HIGHLY NECESSARY A/N: This chapter deals with music. Music is my next greatest passion. I am about ready to bawl because I cannot let Constance adore Vivaldi as much as I do. Quick history lesson: In Vivaldi's later years (somewhere 'round 1737ish), the Pope was torqued at him, Vivaldi's fame declined, as did his health, he died in 1741, he was pretty much forgotten and all of his music went into private collections. His music was virtually unknown until 1926 when they were unearthed in a music library in Italy. The general populace did not actually hear Vivaldi's music until the 1950s. E-mail me if you want the whole story. I'm not sure if Corelli (another Baroque composer—check out his Concerto Grosso in g minor, No. 8, Opus 6) was forgotten too, but oh well, he's in here any way. By the way, Constance's 'nyah' opinion of Mozart is mine own, and I know I'm about to be flamed for this chapter. Love, Portia
Constance frowned, effecting a little more effort from Bordon. After all, Colonel Tavington had given him a rather threatening glare and that was not something Bordon wished to test.
"Um, Miss Tavington, do you like…music?" he mumbled, averting shyly his eyes from her.
"Very much so!" she chirped. "I can play all the stringed instruments quite satisfactorily, though I primarily play the violin. Will does not believe it proper to have a cello or viol de gamba cradled between my knees, so should my music call for a cello, I have him play. Once or twice I've played a continuo part on the contrabass, as there was no available harpsichord. And you, Captain?"
"I enjoy listening to it when I can, but I do not play."
Constance nodded. "Will plays Bach cello suites beautifully, but I doubt he would oblige your request to hear him play. Perhaps I will play something for you on a later visit?"
"I would much like that."
"I only pray you have no preference for Mozart."
Somewhat surprised, Bordon scrutinized her. Mozart was a rather estimable young composer, though still no where near as popular as Salieri in the Viennese circles. "What do you mean?"
"Mozart's melodies, to my ear, are the same tinny tune over and over. He seems to have the tendency to "reuse" his music so that what he writes now sounds awfully similar to something he wrote two years ago."
"And what does the lady prefer?"
"Telemann, Corelli, Bach, Heinichin. Boccherini is a current favorite of mine. Haydn's music is similar to Mozart's, but I feel it has far more variety."
Bordon smiled. "In some sense, the lady is behind in fashion."
"I may assault my feet and waist with the cruel contrivance of 'fashion' if it means I do my feminine duty and land a husband," she said dryly, taking on the taut manner of her brother. "But I refuse to assault my mind, a far more permanent thing than my features, with worthless and boring music, books or other 'fashionable' things. I am accomplished, but I do not go about them mindlessly. I may only have so many opinions allotted to me as a female, and I had better be belligerent about those."
"Well said," Bordon murmured. He was getting to like this little woman. She was definitely not of the normal mold, but at least she was interesting enough.
Wilkins noticed them and hailed his fellow captain.
"Here's one you need to be mindless to understand, Miss Tavington," Bordon whispered to her. Constance giggled and followed the approach of Wilkins with her eyes.
"Hello, Captain Bordon, sir," Wilkins said with a pompous bow. "My, my sir, what lovely lady is this you've got at your arm."
"This is Miss Constance Tavington, Captain Wilkins. She is the colonel's sister." Constance gave a reserved curtsey, fearing that if she dip her body too far forward, Wilkins would see far more than he deserved.
"Jim Wilkins, miss," the tall captain said with another bow.
"I never knew we were at such informalities, Captain Wilkins."
"Well, miss, you may call me what you wish."
A devilish smirk settled onto her visage. "How kind of you to give me such leave, sir." She nodded to him with a most charming smile. "Now, if you will excuse Captain Bordon and me, we were on a stroll of the encampment. Good day."
Wilkins tried for elegance and made his most impressive bow. The effect was a stifled giggle from the woman at his gracelessness and awkward speech. He stared after Constance as she walked off with Captain Bordon.
Out of earshot, Constance leaned into Bordon's shoulder for confidentiality. "He's a captain too?"
Mournfully, Bordon nodded. "A real boon to our corps," he answered cynically.
"He tries too hard to impress. I think I would pity him more than I would esteem him."
"Your brother despises him. Captain Wilkins is not a fellow to be trusted. He has already betrayed his closest friends—once a turn coat, always a turn coat."
"Aye, though from looking at the fellow, you would assume he's in for his own personal gain."
"Sadly, yes, though he often doesn't seem to have to brains to come up with such a plan." Bordon sighed and gazed softly at her. "You had better watch out for him, Miss Tavington. He's a big man."
"Indeed, but a real shit-wit." Constance chuckled wryly.
The captain, though initially taken aback by her profanity, burst into a convulsive fit of laughter. "Well said again, Miss Tavington!"
Next chapter: Lieutenant Tobias Fife arrives, and Constance's prompt to "leave."