While the afternoon and evening had gotten off to a bit of an awkward start, he was enjoying himself now. He had watched with a little jealousy as the elder Tilbury had chatted with Ellen for quite some time when they had finished exchanging gifts. Indeed, he could not do anything except hang on Ellen’s every word.
The viscount broke away from the group of gentlemen and walked over to join the ladies. He sat down beside Ellen, and Simon’s ire rose once more. What game was the young viscount playing at? Simon hung his head, trying to keep his jealousy under control. Ellen smiled and they began talking about what, Simon did not know. But it was obviously very amusing.
All of a sudden, Lady Beatrice stood up and called for attention. “I think a performance is in order. What say you, Sisters?” she asked.
Golda moaned, and Ellen did not say anything but look at Beatrice as if she had sprouted antlers. Agatha stood and began to bounce as if she were a hare. “Oh, yes, let us do a show for everyone. Ellen, you can play the pianoforte, and we three shall act!” she said.
The two elder Semple sisters were less eager than their younger sisters. But after some convincing, they both stood and went along with their sister’s scheme.
“Now, everyone, come and sit down. Papa, may we move the settee back a bit?” Agatha asked. She did not wait for his reply but started rearranging the furniture. The younger Tilbury began helping her, and she gave a coy grin as he offered assistance.
Beatrice piped up then, and Simon moved over to the settee that was now in line with a larger couch, both of them set to face away from the hearth toward the opposite wall. He and Lord Semple sat down on the sofa and were soon joined by Lady Semple. The Tilbury brothers sat down, and Thomas, Golda’s husband, laughed as the ladies headed out into the hall to change into costume dresses.
“I had no idea the girls still put on plays,” Simon said, leaning over to Lord Semple.
“They have not for several years—not since Golda married Thomas, I believe. This will be a treat,” he whispered.
Simon nodded and watched as Ellen sat down at the pianoforte. He had not heard her play since they were children. Soon the ladies were ready, and they walked out and curtsied as if they were players on a real stage.
The audience clapped for them, and the children squealed in delight when their mother appeared, dressed in a French gown that would have been all the rage fifty years ago. Ellen began to play softly in the background as the girls acted out a scene from a play they must have done several times before, for each seemed to know the lines by heart.
However, Simon could not help that his gaze constantly travelled back to Ellen. He studied her profile as she closed her eyes and let the music wash over her. She seemed to glow with inspiration, and he wondered if she composed it as she went or if it was a piece she knew well.
Golda, Beatrice, and Agatha took their bows when their little play was finished while Ellen applauded from the pianoforte. He thought she intended to stay hidden in the corner, but Golda waved a hand toward her, and she reluctantly stood. Her sister brought her to the centre of the makeshift stage and made her take a bow. Simon clapped all the louder, beaming with pride.
Ellen’s cheeks coloured, and she waved him off as she walked over to him, but he continued to applaud her.
“That is quite enough, thank you,” she said, looking about the room at the rest of her family members. “It was not all that good.”
“The performance or you? Because I thought them both to be charming to the extreme,” Simon said. “Did you compose the piece you were playing?”
Ellen looked at the floor and then back at her sisters. “Yes, a long time ago. It has changed over the years, but it was something that Beatrice asked of me. She always did have a passion for the stage, as you can see,” she giggled, motioning to her sister, who was still in costume. He assumed Golda and Agatha had gone off to change, for they had disappeared from the room.
“And it seems you still have a passion for playing the piano. I had no idea you were still so keen,” Simon said. It was as if he was seeing his wife for the first time, or at least seeing her in a new light. “You have not touched a pianoforte since we have been married.”
Ellen’s face fell, and he quickly hurried on. “I am not scolding you. I only thought that someone with as much talent as you should not squander her gift. I would very much like to hear the old manor filled with music, and I know my parents would as well. It would be a real privilege.”
She looked up at him, and her eyes shone with tears. “Thank you, Simon. It means a lot to me that you would say so.”
“Of course,” he replied. He felt his throat go dry. He wanted to say more, but her father abruptly walked over to the window and turned to the group with a look of consternation.
“It is snowing!”
Chapter 19
Ellen rushed over to join her father at the window, as did the rest of the family. They were all squished together, probably looking very silly and looking out at the nearly three inches that had already piled up outside. “Oh, dear,” she said under her breath.
“You act as if it is the end of the world. It is only a little snow, and very beautiful at that,” her mother chimed in. “Come away from the window, all of you.”
They did as she said, and Ellen returned to Simon’s side. “What are we to do, Mama? We cannot leave now. It would be too dangerous.”
“Well, you shall all have to stay here tonight!” she said, her face beaming with the prospect of having all her daughters under her roof once more.
“We shall not intrude, Lady Semple, as we are just across the road.” Viscount Tilbury said, bowing at the waist as he made his leave. “It has been a pleasure for my brother and I to be included in your family celebration. We thank you,” he said. He nodded to Ellen with a smile, and she returned it.
“Of course, Viscount. You know you are always welcome here,” her mother said. Goodbyes were exchanged amongst the rest of the group, and soon the viscount and his brother were gone.
“I do feel bad for them having to walk across the road in this,” Agatha chimed in. She had changed out of her costume but had failed to put her hair right. It hung loosely over her shoulders, as it had when she was a little girl.