That afternoon, Sam changed into one of her new dresses. It felt incredible to finally wear something that fit her properly. The high-waisted slim silhouette of the Regency period made it imperative that the foundation garments provide the right shape, and the conical 1760s stays would not do.
The lightly boned stays of the Regency were mostly supported with cording and a removable wooden busk in front. The looser undergarments—stockings, petticoat, and bum pad—were extras that Sarah had kindly gifted to Sam and did not require precise fitting. With these and the stays all in place, Sam easily slipped into her new pink gown. The cotton felt cool against her skin in the heat of May and the delicate ruffles around her neck and skirt hem added that touch of femininity that Sam so loved about historical clothes. She performed a few twirls in front of her mirror to get them out of her system before joining the Daleys, Sarah, and JB in the drawing room.
Abby was at the piano, fingers bouncing away at the keys to the tune of "Light as Thistledown." Sam offered her most enthusiastic applause at the end of the song and Abby sprung up from the piano bench with a grin. Then she stuck her chin in the air and announced, "I can play it even faster!"
"Even faster!" Sam exclaimed. "Well, this I must hear!"
Abby plopped herself back down on the bench and proceeded to race through the same melody at twice the speed.
"Abby's taken quite a liking to you," Mrs. Daley said as Sam took a seat in an empty chair between her and JB. "I've no idea what you've done to bewitch her, but I'm grateful she gave no fuss about practicing her piano today. And I've you to thank for that, Mrs. Byron."
"I'm pleased to hear it," said Sam. "Abby is a delight."
"What did you do to get her to like you so much?" JB whispered to Sam, quietly enough that no one else could hear.
"I work with kids at the museum, remember?" she whispered back. "Eight year-olds are easy. It's the pre-teens that will give you nightmares."
JB smirked. "Believe me, I know."
"But I love them too," Sam assured him. "Plus, they're dealing with all sorts of crazy stuff—puberty and middle school and identity crises…Ugh, you couldn't pay me enough to go back to that age."
"Me neither. Being thirteen twice is bad enough. I think I'd rather die than have to be that nerdy kid a third time."
Sam scooted closer and murmured into his ear, "I hate to break it to you JB, but you're still pretty nerdy."
He snickered. "Look who's talking."
"Touché."
Someone coughed behind them. They simultaneously jumped and turned around. Sarah held a finger to her mouth, then pointed back at the piano, but the corners of her eyes crinkled and suppressed laughter tinted her words when she said, "Must I now be responsible for four prattling children?" Sam and JB looked at each other, then sheepishly redirected their attention to the piano.
The final notes had yet to stop ringing when Abby once again scurried off the piano bench. She beamed at Sam, who made sure to clap with loud enthusiasm for the little girl. "Nicely done," she said.
"Now it's your turn, Mrs. Byron," said Abby.
Sam's stomach did a backflip. "I'm sorry?"
"Lovely idea, Abby," said Mrs. Daley. "Won't you play for us, dear?" She smiled at Sam with eager eyes. Sam swallowed. She'd always wanted to learn piano, but had never managed to fit it into her busy schedule. But most society women in the Regency period at least knew how to play a few songs. How would she explain her lack of experience?
Before she had a chance to embarrass herself with a feeble excuse for backing out, JB stood up and announced, "I must insist that you instead allow me to take a seat at the pianoforte so you may hear my wife sing. Her voice is what she is known for in our parts."
"Marvelous!" cried Sarah, beaming at Sam. "Do sing for us, won't you?" Sam's mouth was too dry to speak, but she nodded.
"Come," JB said, looking at Sam now. "Shall we choose a piece from the songbook?"
Sam reluctantly joined him at the piano. "What are you doing?" she hissed at him, hopefully out of earshot of their audience.
"Saving this town from potential time damage. If they find out you don't play piano, they may suspect we're not who we say we are and then word will spread and that could cause a series of…anyway, you already know how to sing and I'm good at sight reading. We just need to find a song in here that you know." He handed her the book of handwritten music and lyrics.
She tried to steady her breathing as she skimmed through the pages and song titles. "What if I don't know any of these?" She was familiar with lots of popular songs from history, but certainly not all of them, and she only had a few memorized. What were the odds she would find…Wait. She stopped on a page in the middle of the book. "I know the English lyrics for 'Non Lo Dirò Col Labbr.'" She pointed at the title at the top of the page.
JB groaned. "The English lyrics didn't emerge until the 1920s."
"I know, but it's not like they're going to recall the lyrics from memory and document them," Sam replied, hopeful if not confident. "At least it's less suspicious than me refusing to sing altogether."
JB rubbed his temples, but eventually gave her a quick nod and positioned the book on the piano. He then slid onto the bench, fingers hovered over the keys, and said to the room, "My wife is delighted to perform for you a…familiar tune with her own lyrics."
Sam gulped as JB played a lilting intro, then took a deep breath and put her diaphragm to work. And now she was singing, singing a historical song in a historical time in a historical dress, and, wow, how exhilerating! Mrs. Daley was smiling and Sarah was swaying along to the music and even little Abby gave her full attention. Mr. Daley and Charles drifted in from the library and stood in the threshold to listen.
Now riding on the wave of a performer's high, Sam embraced the emotions of the lyrics and relaxed into the theatrics of the piece. It had been a long time since she last sung on stage and apparently the part of her soul that craved the spotlight was eager to spring forth. She was so immersed that when JB suddenly stumbled over some notes, it took her a moment to realize she was singing with no accompaniment. Abruptly, she stopped and felt her confidence curl in on itself in the silence.
JB looked even more embarrassed, accidentally knocking the sheet music off the piano in an attempt to correct himself. "M-my apologies," he stammered.
Sarah and the Daleys, however, knew their manners and took the opportunity to clap and praise Sam for her singing. Sam offered an awkward curtsey and thanked them before promptly asking Abby to play her song just one more time. Abby made no hesitation and was back at the piano before JB had even picked up the sheet music. He gave Sam a grateful smile and reclaimed his seat beside her.
By evening, Sam was still humming the song's tune, and as she burrowed under her sheets that night, she tumbled into dreams of grand theatres and bright opera costumes, and a silhouetted figure waiting in the wings that made her shiver…