Just Like Heaven (Smythe-Smith Quartet #1)(67)

“Some people have no one,” Honoria said passionately.

Sarah stared at her a moment longer, then said it again. “I’m sorry, but what are you talking about?”

Honoria looked at all of them, aware that her voice was rising with feeling but completely unable to modulate it. “I may not like performing in musicales, but I love rehearsing with the three of you.”

Her three cousins stared at her, momentarily nonplussed.

“Don’t you realize how lucky we are?” Honoria said. And then, when no one leapt to agree, she added, “To have each other?”

“Couldn’t we have each other over a game of cards?” Iris suggested.

“We are Smythe-Smiths,” Honoria ground out, “and this is what we do.” And then, before Sarah could offer a word of protest, she said, “You, too, regardless of your last name. Your mother was a Smythe-Smith, and that is what counts.”

Sarah sighed—loud, long, and weary.

“We are going to pick up our instruments and play Mozart,” Honoria announced. “And we are going to do it with smiles on our faces.”

“I have no idea what any of you are talking about,” Daisy said.

“I will play,” Sarah said, “but I make no promises about a smile.” She looked at the piano and blinked. “And I am not picking up my instrument.”

Iris actually giggled. Then her eyes lit up. “I could help you.”

“Pick it up?”

Iris’s grin grew positively devilish. “The window is not far . . .”

“I knew I loved you,” Sarah said with a wide smile.

While Sarah and Iris were making plans to destroy Lady Winstead’s brand new pianoforte, Honoria turned back to the music, trying to decide which score to choose. “We did Quartet no. 2 last year,” she said, even though only Daisy was listening, “but I’m hesitant to choose Quartet no. 1.”

“Why?” Daisy asked.

“It’s rather famous for being difficult.”

“Why is that?”

“I don’t know,” Honoria admitted. “I’ve just heard that it is, and often enough to make me wary.”

“Is there a Quartet no. 3?”

“I’m afraid not.”

“Then I think we should do no. 1,” Daisy said boldly. “Nothing ventured, nothing gained.”

“Yes, but it is a wise man who understands his limits.”

“Who said that?” Daisy asked.

“I did,” Honoria answered impatiently. She held up the score to Quartet no. 1. “I don’t think we could possibly learn this, even if we had three times as long to practice.”

“We don’t have to learn it. We’ll have the music in front of us.”

This was going to be much worse than Honoria had feared.

“I think we should do no. 1,” Daisy said emphatically. “It will be embarrassing if we perform the same piece as last year.”

It was going to be embarrassing regardless of what music they chose, but Honoria didn’t have the heart to say it to her face.

On the other hand, whichever piece they performed, they would surely butcher it past recognition. Could a difficult piece played badly be that much worse than a slightly less difficult piece played badly?

“Oh, why not?” Honoria acquiesced. “We’ll do no. 1.” She shook her head. Sarah was going to be furious. The piano part was especially difficult.

On the other hand, it wasn’t as if Sarah had deigned to take part in the selection process.

“A wise choice,” Daisy said with great conviction. “We’re doing Quartet no. 1!” she called out over her shoulder.

Honoria looked past her to Sarah and Iris, who had actually pushed the pianoforte several feet across the room.

“What are you doing?” she nearly shrieked.

“Oh, don’t worry,” Sarah said with a laugh. “We’re not really going to push it out the window.”

Iris positively collapsed on the piano stool, her entire body shaking with laughter.

“This isn’t funny,” Honoria said, even though it was. She’d love nothing more than to join her cousin in silliness, but someone had to take charge, and if she didn’t do it, Daisy would.

Good heavens.

“We’ve chosen Mozart’s Piano Quartet no. 1,” Daisy said again.

Iris went utterly pale, which for her meant almost ghostlike. “You’re joking.”

“No,” Honoria replied, in all honesty a bit fed up. “If you had a strong opinion, you should have joined the conversation.”

“But do you know how difficult it is?”

“That’s why we want to do it!” Daisy proclaimed.

Iris looked at her sister for one moment and then turned back to Honoria, who she clearly judged to be the more sensible of the two. “Honoria,” she said, “we cannot do Quartet no. 1. It’s impossible. Have you ever heard it played?”

“Only once,” Honoria admitted, “but I don’t remember it very well.”

“It’s impossible,” Iris cried. “It’s not meant for amateurs.”

Honoria was not so pure of heart that she was not enjoying her cousin’s distress just a little bit. Iris had been complaining all afternoon.