The Prince's Snuffbox, George and Susannah

[George Hackett (Rose)]

"Perhaps," George replied, interested into this insight into Mr. Hutchinson, "you might reconcile German and Italian music by singing Mozart's Italian songs. His operatic arias are some of the most beautiful ever written. How very lucky that you are both able to enjoy this talent."

He found Mr. Hutchinson's taste in music unsurprising considering what he had seen of this quiet, well-mannered and educated professional man. It fitted. He found that he wanted to hear both him and his sister perform.

"No, I am not so fortunate to have musical talent myself" (something he had often had cause to regret in Italy) "but I do enjoy listening to others very much. I hope I shall have an opportunity to hear you and Mr. Hutchinson," he added.

[Susannah Hutchinson (Amy)]

Lord Selwyn hoped to hear her sing! His words inspired equal parts euphoria and terror. Could she possibly? She wanted to—wanted to give a most elegant and skillful performance, sound as comfortable as she did when alone in the sitting room at home. But no one outside her family circle and a very few close friends had ever heard her before. She had not been in the habit of performing at parties, though she knew other girls who did and always secretly thought she could best them. Yet…a memory surfaced that she had tried to forget, an example of her bluster and resulting shame.

There had been one instance, about the time she had turned sixteen; that infamous party at the Frasers. Miss Hortensia Fraser was a year older and had just come out in society, to her own very great delight. Sukey had always loathed her, and the feeling was mutual, but as their mothers were friends, the two girls had often been obliged to be in one another’s company. Miss Fraser’s own younger sister Eugenia was wont to sing duets, and the sisters had planned an impressive array of entertainments to feature Miss Fraser and, no doubt, win her accolades and suitors from among the company. Unluckily, Eugenia, a sweet but fragile thing, suffered a sore throat on the evening of the party, sending Hortensia into a fit of pique just as guests began to arrive. More from of a desire to out-do the brat than from an eagerness to assist, Sukey had volunteered to take Eugenia’s place. Such supreme confidence in her own abilities had proven unfounded. She had no more than a few minutes to look over the music and learn the parts, and when time came to perform, she hit two sour notes to start. Though she improved thereafter, the experience shook her, and she provided only weak harmonies to Hortensia’s soaring soprano. When the music and applause died down, Miss Fraser had shot her a smug glance that had wilted what remained of her pride. Sukey fled to the garden, fighting back tears, and remained there for the entirety of the evening, while through the window, Miss Fraser flirted and carried on as though she were God’s particular gift to Wiltshire society.

“I am not sure that London will provide us with an opportunity to perform,” Sukey hedged, “but it is an honor to know that you would be among the audience if it did. I will look into Mozart’s arias. I believe Ben may have the music for Don Giovanni, or perhaps might borrow it from a friend. But, Lord Selwyn, when it comes to Mozart, you are clearly more expert than I: is there a particular opera or aria that you recommend?”

[George Hackett (Rose)]

George was somewhat surprised that she seemed to take his desire so seriously, but could not help being pleased by it.

"I am sure you will have a chance to perform at some point. From what I remember of society, young ladies are always being called upon to display their talents." Then George realised this sounded petulant and hastened on to say, "I am afraid that my favourite Mozart opera is one that you will not know- Die Zauberflote or The Magic Flute, his only opera in German. I do not believe that it has been performed yet in England, but I heard it several times and found it the most beautiful. However, there are some lovely arias in Don Giovanni and the other opere; you cannot go wrong with Mozart."

He had briefly lapsed into Italian for one word. Opera was a subject he was far more used to discuss in that language so it simply slipped out.

[Susannah Hutchinson (Amy)]

It had only been one word, but it rolled off his tongue with refreshing zest. Somehow, it brought to mind bittersweet chocolate: rich, smooth, and yet piquant and surprising. Or, perhaps, consuming a syllabub and encountering a sudden pocket of lemon. In either case, it was curiously delightful. Sukey wondered if Lord Selwyn’s whole personality might be like a pudding. She imagined herself telling him so: “my lord, you are strangely like a pudding—a steamed pudding, I think, outwardly English, and yet one never quite knows where one will encounter chocolate or exotic fruits, for they are folded into the whole.” How completely ludicrous she would sound, and how little Lord Selwyn might appreciate the implication that he was dense, heavy, and scoffed at by Continental pastry chefs.

“Opere,” she imitated him softly. It was tolerable, she supposed, but hardly seemed natural. “Oh, it sounds so beautiful when you say it!” A small, wistful sigh passed her lips. “I might improve my Italian, I think, but when it comes to German, I will not even make an attempt. I will simply say, ‘The Magic Flute.’ I confess, though, that my performances in the past have mostly consisted of less artful compositions: Dibdin, Storace, and the like. I shall master some arias, but until I do, I may well be a disappointment to cultured London society!”

[George Hackett (Rose)]

Dibdin. Storace. Not composers that had travelled to Italy. The names brought back memories of being at Hazledeane and listening to a young Lucia Fotherington showing off her vocal talents (before that delightful day when she realied that she did not really have much, at least not compared to... ). Anyway.

"I am afraid you will have to consult someone else on what you should sing. I have been too long out of English society to know what is appropriate. But I am sure anything you choose will be suitable." A platitude perhaps, but he saw none of those disagreeable traits of vanity that so plagued so many young ladies and plenty that indicated natural taste.

"I do recommend working at your Italian, Miss Hutchinson. Knowledge of it will open up literature, music and art to you in a way which I fancy no other language can."

It occurred to him immediately afterwards that perhaps such pursuits were not as exciting to a debutante as they were to him, but he could not take back his words. Besides, had not even the incomparable Lady Julianne demonstrated an interest in the Medieval Religious Icons Exhibition?

[Susannah Hutchinson (Amy)]

She felt a disappointment to cultured society already. Perhaps she should not have invited such judgment? There was a touch of finality in what Lord Selwyn said, which might have been due to the rapid approach of the end of the dance; Sukey suspected, however, that her preferred composers were neither accomplished enough for Italy nor smart enough for London. Her partner had adopted a tone reminiscent of a tutor—a kinder, handsomer tutor she had never encountered, to be sure, but these very qualities made the lesson seem somehow more imperative. Though not ashamed of her taste, Sukey felt that she would like to impress Lord Selwyn as she hoped to impress Mr. Stapleton, and she feared that she had lost ground in the endeavor despite a promising start.

Lowering her eyes, she made some unimaginative remarks in praise of Italian and expressing her intent to learn its subtleties. What else could she do? It occurred to Sukey that she ought to be passionate about mastering foreign tongues, as it would greatly increase her ability to meet and converse with new people; but without the prospect of ever traveling abroad, it seemed an awfully wishful course of action. If she married a very wealthy man, perhaps, they might visit the Continent now and then. She indulged in a brief fantasy that found her mingling with Parisians and Venetians, self-assured and sought-after, on the arm of a fine gentleman who loved her. As usual since her arrival in this strange, vibrant place, her mind oscillated between extremes. Was she suited only to the country and its humble ways, or could London’s excitement offer her a place to thrive, to re-invent herself as something new? Yet, if she attempted such a thing, it seemed to her that she would invariably fall back into the habits and manners she had been accustomed to all her life. Why would a Lord or a Duke or an Earl even glance in her direction, interloper that she was? And supposing she could marry so well—a doubtful prospect—would she even like the “new” Sukey (or rather, Susannah, for she could scarce imagine the ton’s reaction to a “Lady Sukey”)?

She was loath to end the dance on so bland a note, and anyway, a natural inquiry into Lord Selwyn’s future plans would not be amiss. “Are you firmly fixed in England now, Lord Selwyn, or do you envision yourself returning to Italy?”

[George Hackett (Rose)]

Several minutes passed during the dance in which they conversed rather blandly about Italy. It was safe discussion though, and Miss Hutchinson, if she did not say anything he had heard before, was pleasant and listened to what he had to say in reply about Italian, Italian culture and so on.

The dance was drawing to a close when she asked a rather personal question. Or at least it was a personal question for George. Nevertheless, he answered it honestly enough. There was nothing about Miss Hutchinson that caused him to feel wary.

"My father's health is not good and there is a great deal of business that a man in my situation must deal with, so yes, I believe I am settled in England now. I do hope to return to Italy some day, but it will not be to live."

There were a lot of euphemisms in that sentence which if George had been more knowledgeable about marriageable females he might have wanted to avoid. A Viscount with an ill father who had business to conduct that involved attending Almack's and dancing every dance- they might get the right idea! But George did not think of that.

He bowed with a small smile amidst his gravity as the dance drew to a close and then offered her his arm. "Can I escort you back to your brother, Miss Hutchinson, or to the refreshment table?"

He was not sure he wanted to see Mr. Hutchinson again, but he supposed he would have to deal with the fact that he clearly had the connections to get into Almack's. And he liked the fellow well enough, which should be enough.

[Susannah Hutchinson (Amy)]

Sukey’s mouth crinkled into a frown. “Oh dear. I’m very sorry to hear that your father is ill. I am sure he must be a very distinguished gentleman.” Though a more savvy young lady might have understood the import of Lord Selwyn’s remarks, Sukey expressed a fervent hope that his father might recover. “It seems terribly unfair that, instead of being with your father, you must be in London just now with the burden of business affairs. They are probably the furthest thing from your mind.”

His offer to escort her back to her brother coaxed out a smile again. “Thank you; that is most kind.” As they made their way towards the side of the room, her thoughts floated back to the subject of Italy. Would Lord Selwyn—if and when he married—take his bride there, or to some other exotic place with strange customs and incomprehensible tongues? “And I hope you find yourself free to visit Italy again. Though of course a short stay could not possibly compare with calling it home.”

[George Hackett (Rose)]

George only inclined his head and said, "Thank you," since he did not feel at all as charitable as her towards his father. It was a terribly undutiful attitude to have and George was rather ashamed of it but, well, Miss Hutchinson had not met Lord Morven.

She did seem to understand things very well however. He smiled and nodded for a last time before meeting with Mr. Hutchinson. "You are correct and I do not think it ever will be home again, but I do hope to be able to visit again some day."

He greeted her brother, trying to see him not as a banker but as a gentleman and left them as soon as possible, though not without a feeling of regret that Miss Hutchinson was not better connected. She was a very amiable girl.

((OOC: Hope you don't mind my finishing it up!))