Nicholas shut his eyes as the sweet, lyrical melody flowed through the room. Intricate and lovely, it was as sweet as the scent of springtime blowing in through the half-open window. He sat back and let it transport him to another place and time when he was a child and carefree, and he’d run and played in summer woods.
He opened his eyes to gaze at Miss Rowland. The candles that stood on the pianoforte to light up the music played across her hair, making warm highlights. Her eyes were almost shut, her focus inward as she poured her emotions into the piece. He watched her, heart melting with the tenderness he felt for her.
The tone of the music changed, going from somber and serious to playful and light again, and then to grand, lyrical chords in the finale. She lifted her hands with slow grace from the keys. Henry clapped enthusiastically and Nicholas was glad to join him. He’d been too shy to applaud her, not sure how she’d respond.
She smiled, a blush glowing in her pale cheeks.
“Thank you,” she said softly. “Marcia? Do you want to play next?”
“Yes, please,” Marcia agreed quietly.
She went to sit at the piano and Nicholas watched affectionately as they swapped; Miss Rowland turning the pages for Marcia to play. Clarissa was playing cards with Henry, and Mama sat listening to the music. Marcia was also a fine pianist, Nicholas acknowledged as Beethoven’s music filled the room. She and Miss Rowland would have a lot to discuss together.
“That was beautiful,” Clarissa admitted as they applauded Marcia’s playing. “Now can we please, please do some charades?”
Everyone laughed. Nicholas smiled fondly. His sisters were irrepressible. They both looked at Mama hopefully and Mama looked at Nicholas a little helplessly. He inclined his head. It was just family, after all. No-one was going to judge him if he made a fool of himself. He still prayed inwardly that he wouldn’t have to have a turn.
“Very well,” Mama agreed. “Let’s play charades.”
“I’ll go first!” Clarissa declared.
“We knew that,” Henry teased her fondly.
Clarissa pouted and they laughed. Mama and Marcia settled on the chaise-longue. Miss Rowland was seated in between them.
Clarissa cleared her throat, waiting for silence.
“Now I will begin,” she announced.
Nicholas grinned. He watched as she began miming the name of book or play for them to guess. She waved her hands dramatically, then lifted her cupped, empty palms up into the air.
“Again, please,” Henry instructed, frowning theatrically.
Clarissa rolled her eyes but repeated the gesture.
“Is it a play called, “I flap my hands”?” Henry asked.
“No!” Clarissa said in mock-annoyance, making a face at him. Henry laughed. She repeated the gestures.
“Much Ado about Nothing!” Marcia shouted out the name of a Shakespeare play. Clarissa whooped joyfully.
“Yes! It is! Your turn, Marcia. That was good.”
Nicholas leaned back, watching as the next charade unfolded. Marcia enacted what looked like putting on a top-hat and a coat, then pointed out of the window as if at something a long distance away. They all sat silently.
Marcia repeated the act several times, making one or two changes each time, but still they all remained unable to guess.
“Is itTwo Gentlemen of Verona?” Miss Rowland asked softly.
“Yes,” Marcia answered shyly.
“Your turn!” Clarissa yelled.
“We’re right here. We can hear you,” Mama chided gently.
“Sorry, Mama.” Clarissa said contritely. “I was just excited that it’s her turn.”
“I know,” Mama said with a smile.
