Content warnings can be found here

“I see you have a pianoforte,” Valance said, in the airy tones he adopted when he wished to make himself agreeable, but had nothing of weight or worth to contribute. “Are you of a musical inclination, Mrs Tooting?”

Serafina’s mother batted away the gallantry, “No, sir, I am afraid it is Serafina who is talented in that regard.”

“Oh, madame,” he inclined his head with his infuriating smile. “I could have guessed as much - she has the posture of a natural pianist, and her fingers have the strength and delicacy a virtuoso would require.” He batted lashes. “But I can also discern that both of those attributes are hereditary. Have you never played?”

“As a young woman, yes, but I had no gift for it, Mr Valance.”

“Whereas Miss Tooting does?” Valance turned with all the naturalness and grace in the world, “Oh, but I most ardently admire music, Miss Tooting. I should be most honoured if you were to be able to hear you play.”

But Serafina, his Serafina, demurred. “I have already played this morning, Mr Valance. Besides, I fear I should be unlikely to present anything of interest to an aficionado such as yourself.”

“Are you not an aficionado, then, Miss Tooting? By which I mean, do you play only for the pleasure of fools such as myself, rather than your own?”

“While I appreciate music, sir, it is a rather trivial entertainment, and I often find playing most fatiguing.”

“Then I must not press you. Perhaps if we are ever in company, and other voices were able to prevail upon you, then might I have the pleasure of hearing you some other day.”

“I am sure that will be possible, Mr Valance,” said the mother. “Tell me, sir, will you be in Town for the season.”

Well, that seemed to throw him. 

“I hope to be, Mrs Tooting, although I may take it into my head to travel. One misses the continent, at times, you know?”

“Oh, I’m sure one does, Mr Valance. Have you taken a Tour?”

“A small one, madam. I was fortunate enough to see Rossini’s Elisabetta, regina d'Inghilterra when I was at Naples.” 

And dead drunk, Thornton amended. Debauching your way across Italy because your father couldn’t stand the disgrace of you. 

 “A rather a touching tale, I thought. But perhaps you would not find it sufficiently serious in its history, Miss Tooting?” He dropped the question with that faux sincerity he had perfected on unwitting maidservants, and town girls in Oxford.

And, innocent that she was, Serafina touched one hand to her throat, and gathered herself for a few moments before conceding that it was a touching tale, if a little far-fetched. Besides, had Rossini not reused the overture in The Barber of Seville?

“I’m sure he did, and what’s more, he’d lifted it from Aureliano in Palmira before that…” 

And from there on, Richard was cast in the role of ‘other attendant gentlemen’ while Valance flounced and posed and took liberties, speaking of this singer, or that composer, as though he had some interest in the subject beyond his own gratification. Valance had always had all the words, and a smug confidence in his opinions that could only come from a man with a family who’d spent several centuries of lording it over lesser men. 

Richard was forced to watch as the conversation between them become deeper, far too deep for the un-initiated to comprehend, until it became clear to all present that they could speak among themselves for hours. Then, of course, after declaring loudly that, “Yes, of course Mrs Dussek had written that sonata”, and what slander it was to attribute a woman’s finest work to her husband, Valance dropped his voice and expressed the earnest wish that - if she truly did have the sheet music, if it was not too much trouble, if she would not find it tedious, then nothing, nothing would do him a greater honour if she were to condescend to...

After a token hesitation, Serafina assented.

What could be more acceptable, then, than Valance offering her his arm to walk Miss Tooting to the pianoforte? To stand mortifyingly close to her whilst they whispered over the pages and greeted each piece like old friends. Oh, true, Serafina had paused before she had let him take her arm, had given Richard a shamed, embarrassed look which invited him to intervene, but what the devil did she expect him to do? Make a scene in front of her mother? Play the aggrieved fiancé and separate her from a person was no doubt being read as a far more eligible suitor? 

Besides, there was no plea in her glance. No, she had found a dashing roué who would chatter to her about all the frivolous nonsense in which he could not indulge her. He watched them, giggling over the pianoforte. 

They were easily the most attractive couple one could imagine. 

Mrs Tooting beckoned him and, although he would sooner have eavesdropped upon them, he obeyed his hostess. 

“Don’t Mr Valance and Serafina look very fine with the light on them like that? You know, if another were to describe such a couple to me, I would insist that they were speaking of one of those sentimental portraits people are so fond of nowadays.” 

Well, the old sow was anything but subtle.

“I’m afraid I really cannot comment. I have no facility for aesthetic judgement.”

Mrs Tooting tapped her finger against her embroidery ring. “Is he a particular friend of yours, this Mr Valance?” 

“I would not put it in those terms, madame.”

She a small sound that could have been mistaken for a cough. “I suppose you would move in rather different circles.”

To stop his fists from clenching, Richard called up one of his favourite memories of Edward: the sight of him kneeling with surrender in his eyes and blood on his back. The handle of Richard’s riding crop rested on his collar bone, and he stared up into Richard’s eyes with his lips parted for a kiss he was not certain he would get. 

Oh, and he had begged for a kiss, that night. 

“No, madame, not since my Oxford days.”

“Hmm,” Mrs Tooting said again. “And what can you tell me of his character?”

“His character, madame?”

“I believe that was what I asked, Mr Thornton.”

“I’m afraid I could not possibly say, Mrs Tooting.”

“Very discreet of you, I’m sure. The thing is, Mr Thornton, I am neither so blind, nor so foolish as you appear to think me. A great many men can make themselves agreeable without there being any worth beneath the surface. Besides, I have seen your partiality to my daughter. You have hopes of her.”

“Madame, I...”

“Before you deny it, Mr Thornton, let me assure you of one thing. Your hopes are in vain. I do not feel you are a suitable match for my daughter. If, as you will no doubt claim, you love her sincerely and disinterestedly, then it is my belief that you will quit the field. Yet you did not depart when Mr Valance entered.”

“I’m not sure I understand your meaning, madame.”

“That’s interesting. I believe I was being perfectly explicit.”

“Perhaps I merely did not wish to credit you with it, madame. If you mean to imply that a match founded upon mutual affection, sympathetic intellect and complimentary temperament is somehow unsuitable,” as he spoke, he caught a touch of coldness in his voice, the one he had once been permitted to use. Richard tried to control his anger, but Serafina had begun to play with far more interest and expression than she had played for him. He could not moderate his tone, and nor could he look away from her. “Then I catch your meaning precisely. If, as I hope, you intended something else by your words, madam, I am afraid I do not follow you.”

“Where did you school, Mr Thornton?” Mrs Tooting asked.

“At ---. With Mr Valance, as I believe he mentioned earlier.”

“Yet your position is far from that for which your education, and indeed your manner, might have prepared you.”

“Quite, madame.”

“That must be most upsetting for you.”

“My circumstances are not so wretched as you appear to believe.”

“No,” she said, slowly, meditative. “Still, you are by no means the prospect I had anticipated for Serafina’s hand.” She looked, measuring, as though she were aware how deeply her words cut. Mrs Tooting spoke quietly, scarcely moving her lips, as concealed by the music as whatever conference Valance was having with Serafina. “I do not wish to be cruel, Mr Thornton, but despite her charms and the small beneficence I am able to settle upon her, Serafina will not inherit an income which will support her in the life to which she is accustomed. Nor, at this time, will your salary. Therefore, neither my husband, nor myself, can give approval or encouragement to your suit.”

He made himself smile, although he was aware it was more of a grimace, “I see, madam.”

“Therefore, I reiterate. If you love my daughter as truly as you claim, you will place her interests above your own gratification, or mortified pride.” 

He said nothing.

“Mr Thornton, let us be clear. I cordially insist that you withdraw.”

“Might I not plead my case before I am condemned outright?”

“No doubt you will say some such about the depth of your devotion, your prospects in your employ, and your hopes of restoring your family fortunes.”

“That was my intention, yes.”

“Then allow me to spare you the trouble. I place very little faith in either the protestations or the promises of young men.”

“Then you will not even permit me the hope, madame, that if my circumstances were to change...”

“Sir, I inform you frankly that by the time your circumstances have been able to change, my daughter will be happily wed to another of her many admirers. Therefore, I expressly forbid you to stimulate her hopes of matrimony by either making a declaration, or employing any other such underhand techniques. I will not have her happiness bought by counterfeit coin, or promissory note.”

“I see, madame.”

“Therefore, Mr Thornton, your hopes dashed and your happiness no doubt destroyed, I call upon you to show the truth of your affection for my daughter by giving me an account of the character of the young man currently gathered about the pianoforte with Serafina.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“You seem a young man of sense and discernment,” she said. “That is the sole reason I permit you to approach this house, to attend my daughter. And we have assured ourselves that you value her happiness above your own, have we not, Mr Thornton?”

“Yes, madame.”

“Therefore, with her happiness foremost in your mind, is this Mr Valance a fitting prospect for my daughter’s hand?”

Richard attempted to control his rage. “If I am to understand you, madame, you have not only forbidden my own approach to your daughter, but expect me to give a recommendation to my supposed rival.”

“Yes, Mr Thornton.”

Richard drew a deep breath. “I am afraid I cannot do so, madame.”

“You refuse, sir?”

“No, madam. I’m afraid I cannot give Mr Valance a recommendation. Indeed, at risk of being indiscreet, I feel I must tell you that he is no suitable company, let alone prospect, for a young lady of virtue and intelligence.”

Mrs Tooting tapped her fan against her knee and made a slight sound of assent, “You mislike him.”

“My personal feelings have very little to do with it. As you have said, an engaging manner can hide a multitude of…” he made himself pause, draw breath. “Those acquainted with the gentleman at the pianoforte know him to be quite notorious.” 

He regretted the word as soon as it crossed his lips, knowing the effect the breath of aristocratic scandal could have upon a certain class of matron. 

“He is a rake of the most detestable stripe and quite destitute. His father was the late Sir Charles Valance. At one time, I believe Mr Valance hoped to inherit his father’s estate, but was passed over in favour of his brother, the current Sir Charles. His younger brother, madame. He has been disowned. He has no prospects, and no remaining friends outside of the very lowest sort. Given to duelling, drinking, and gaming, he is at constant risk of a lawsuit, and at the mercy of his creditors. Much as it pains me to speak thus of an old schoolfellow, indeed, a boyhood friend, I can assure you that whatever good nature he once possessed has been ruined, just as his good name has been despoiled.”

“One might say that those were the words of a rival, Mr Thornton.”

“Indeed one might, madam, but they could be verified by the most cursory of enquiries. His disgrace is hardly unknown.”

“Thank you, Mr Thornton. If that is the case, though, I wonder at the vehemence of your words.” She smiled as though she had said nothing untoward, a gentle and womanly smile, “Tell me, you were once very close, were you not?”

He stared at her, bewildered. 

“My advice to you, Mr Thornton is to apply yourself to your work. Finance can be a very rewarding career for a diligent young man who does not let… social matters… distract him. Who knows how quickly such a man might prosper?”

“I beg your pardon?”

“I do not ask wealth for my daughter’s future, nor the hollow grandeur of a title - only acceptable comfort, and a man prepared to put her happiness before his own. Therefore, look to your business, Mr Thornton, and prosper swiftly.”

He sat, speechless, nonplussed, not able to make himself understand.

But the music had stopped, and Serafina, in a voice more childish and petulant than the one he associated with her was saying, “Mama, what are you and Mr Thornton talking of?” and Valance was leaning against the piano in a way that would have earned Richard a quick reprimand. 

Valance grinned, of course. 

“We were merely discussing the weather, my dear, weren’t we, Mr Thornton?”

He hesitated for a moment too long before saying, “Yes. Yes, of course we were.”