Music Monday: Schubert – Ständchen (Serenade)

I chose today’s music because when I was touring Uniacke Estate Museum this past Saturday (Yes, I was there again 🙂 ), there was a piece of music Schubert on the music stand in the sitting room. This tour was a special, limited-number tour in which the ropes were down and we were guided into the rooms and behind closed doors and given the chance to see things up close and from different angles. We even got to peek inside drawers and cupboards.

Published to YouTube by J.J.Burred on February 6, 2017.

Here is the music stand with the music which was right next to the early 1800s piano and then on the other side of the piano were several music books.

We also visited Sherbrooke Village, a Victorian village, at the start of the week.

Between the two trips, I spent some time in bed and visiting therapists because, over the previous weekend, my hip began giving me some trouble and continued to worsen. (I think it was one walk up a steep gravelly path too many 🙂 ).

It’s doing much better now. Between the rest I gave it and the acupuncture and massage/osteo treatments it received, it is ready to start slowly taking up walking again (although I do believe I will limit myself to flatter terrain for a while).

While resting, I finished getting Willow Hall ready for Kindle Unlimited, where it is now available. Yay! I’m glad to have that project done. sighs in relief

A Dash of Darcy and Companions Cottage Collection 1 will be leaving KU this week, so now is the time to download if you haven’t had a chance to read it yet. Next week, after the long weekend, I will start getting these books republished on all the other sales sites.

I also struggled for a couple of days with the plot of Grace’s story and after some brainstorming and a read-through of what I have written so far, I managed to write one chapter and have solidified what needs to happen before the HEA.

That is all I got done this past week, which was only one to-do item less than I had hoped for, so I am happy with that.

This week, we are back to blog posts all week long, and I have an Austen Authors post on Tuesday. In my personal life, my husband is coming to the end of his vacation, and we hope to take at least one more day trip before he’s done. Therefore, my writing time will still be limited, but for such a good reason that I really can’t complain (too much LOL). Soon enough it will be back to the busyness of work. While I find myself craving a regular routine, I know I will miss having him home to mess up that routine. 🙂

This week, I think I’ll share an excerpt from Discovering Mr. Darcy, which is in the Cottage Collection 1 set of stories, because it involves a piano.

AN EXCERPT FROM Discovering Mr. Darcy:

Elizabeth closed the door to the room.  It was nicely furnished with a couch and chair in front of the fireplace and a lovely writing desk under the window. However, this was as much as she could see from the entryway since an armoire blocked her view of the rest of the room. The piano must be on the other side of that armoire.

She stepped around the piece of furniture and stopped.  There was no piano.  There was instead, a very large bed with a trunk at its foot and a set of clothes laid out on the mattress — a set of men’s clothes. And boots. There were boots standing next to a chair beside the bed.

With her hand resting on her racing heart, Elizabeth turned back to the door. She had counted three doors up on the left. She was certain of it.  She tried the handle on the door, but it would not turn.  She pulled harder and then knocked softly as panic began to demand larger breaths to keep her head from spinning.

“Richard, is that you?”

Elizabeth’s heart lurched. No, no, no. This could not be his room. It could not be!

“Richard?” Darcy called as he entered his room, rubbing his head with a towel.

Elizabeth dropped her gaze to the ground.  Mr. Darcy was dressed only in a robe, and she was standing in his room.  Oh, how she wished the floor would open up and drop her to her death. That would be far less painful than forcing a “No, it is not Richard” from her lips. However, the floor did not open, and her teeth, tongue, and lips managed to produce the sounds needed to alert him to her presence.  She covered her face with her hands.

“The door is locked. I cannot leave,” she added to her admission that she was not Richard.

“Miss Elizabeth?”

“I am afraid that is my name,” she replied, turning away from him.  “Colonel Fitzwilliam told me that this was the room where I could find the piano.  Your aunt insists that I practice, and my cousin would not allow me to remain at home, even if my head did hurt.”

Darcy tied the rope around his waist more snuggly.

“I was in the hall, and a man came up to Colonel Fitzwilliam, and there was something that was lost, and he told me to go three doors up on the left, so I did, and then I entered and rounded the wardrobe,” she waved her hand behind her at the large piece of furniture as she babbled, “and there was no piano. I tried to leave, but the door will not open.”

He pushed by her and tried the handle for himself.  It was indeed locked.  “You do not have the key?”

“Why should I have the key?” she retorted, looking at him with wide eyes.  “It is not my room.”

Darcy raised a brow.  “You would not be the first lady to attempt to snare a gentleman in such a fashion.”  He clamped his lips closed and moved passed her again to go look for the key.  He should not have said that. She was not the sort to affect a compromise — at least not with him.  Besides, if she were to attempt to snare anyone in this house, it would be Richard.  Darcy pulled out drawers and searched for the key. Not finding it anywhere in his dresser, he got down on his knees and felt under the bed.

“You think I would try to trap you?” Elizabeth had finally found her voice after such a startling accusation.  “If it were my intent to do so, I would have done it while at Netherfield, but why should I want to be tied to you?” She folded her arms and glared at him. Her anger overcoming her embarrassment at seeing him dressed as he was with his bare feet and calves poking out from under his robe as knelt on the floor.  “I should hope to marry a man with some sensibility, or at least, one who knows how to smile.”

“Thank you for clarifying your opinion of me.” He rose from the floor and rounding the bed to the far side of the room opened a door.  “You will find a piano in here.  There is a sitting room between my room and the room my sister uses when she is here.”  He stepped back and waited for Elizabeth to cross the room and go through the door.   Then, he closed it and leaned against it.  He was correct in one thing, she disliked him.  He pushed off the door and gathered up his clothes, taking them to the dressing room to attempt to make himself somewhat presentable.

Elizabeth stood just inside the sitting room.  Her anger fading and a strange sadness filling her heart. Mr. Darcy had not raised his voice in return to her harsh words.  He had merely replied softly as if what she had said had cut him to the core.  She would have preferred him to bluster about.  She bit her lip and looked back at the door to his room and then crossed to the instrument.

A small pile of music lay neatly on the side, and one piece was spread out as if waiting for her to attempt it.  Her eyes ran over the notes as they rose and fell on the staff.  It was not a simple piece, but it was not completely beyond her skills.  She began by picking out the notes on the upper staff with her right hand. Then, reaching the end of the piece, she did the same with her left hand before attempting to combine the two.

Darcy heard her slowly picking out the tune of a familiar song as he dressed.  It reminded him of hearing Georgiana approach a new composition.  How he loved to watch her tip her head and bite her lip as she concentrated on learning the fingering and committing the melody to memory.  He wondered if Elizabeth did the same.  He pulled on one stocking and then another. His boots he would do without, just as he would do without his jacket and cravat.  He pulled a pocket knife out of his dresser and attempted to force the lock open on his door, but it was of no use.  He returned the knife to its drawer and sank into a chair by the fireplace.  He would read until she left, then he would ring for his man and make himself presentable in time for tea.

For twenty minutes Darcy stared at a book and thought about the lady in the other room.  For the same twenty minutes, Elizabeth attempted to apply herself to her music but found her mind wandering to the gentleman beyond the door.  He was insufferable, she reminded herself.  Handsome and wealthy, but insufferable.  Finally, she rose from the instrument.

She had practised as required. Neither Lady Catherine nor Mr. Collins had indicated how long she had to play.  She pulled on the door to the room, but it did not budge.  She pulled harder but without success.

There was yet another door she could try — the one in Miss Darcy’s bedroom. She hurried through the door that adjoined the sitting room and tried Miss Darcy’s door.  It, like all the others, would not budge.  With a resigned sigh, she returned to the piano and sat on the bench but did not touch the keys.  She was trapped — well and truly trapped. There was no way to leave these rooms without someone coming to let her out.

In the other room, Darcy snapped his book closed. He had not heard a door open or close, but she was not playing, so she must have left.  He pulled his bell and then went to the sitting room door and peeked in.  Elizabeth sat at the instrument, her hands covering her face, and her shoulders rising and falling as she cried.  No matter what she had said to him. No matter what she thought of him, he could not allow her to go uncomforted.

“Miss Elizabeth,” he said softly as he approached her, “are you well?”  It was a silly thing to say when a lady was weeping, but what else could he ask?

She rubbed the tears from her cheeks with her hands and shrugged.  “They are all locked.”

He handed her a handkerchief and took the chair next to the piano where he always sat to turn pages for his sister.  “What are all locked?”

“The doors.” Her reply was somewhat muffled by the cloth she was using to dry her face.

“This door?” he asked.

She nodded.  “And the one in Miss Darcy’s room. We are trapped.”

The oddness of the situation settled uneasily around Darcy.  Three doors locked, and no keys to open them?  He knew that the keys for this room and Georgiana’s were kept by the housekeeper and Lady Catherine unless Georgiana was in residence. The fact that the door to this room had not been left unlocked if it was intended to be the room where Elizabeth practised did not make sense…

~*~*~

MAILING LIST     PATREON