Sing me a Swing Song(1)


Sing me a Swing Song

The song of the saxophone resonated through the grand old house, filling every corner with its mellow joy. Rarely had the house been so busy or full of life. Caterers, housemaids, musicians and florists milled about, getting lost in the long corridors, each adding their professionally personal touches to the elegant rooms.

Elizabeth Bennet looked around herself in wonder. Singing with the Herbie Jones Band was an honour and a pleasure she had dreamed about many a time. If only she'd had a little more time to rehearse she'd be ecstatic right now. As it was, nervous as hell was a more accurate description. A late night call, frantic packing and an early morning dash to the train station was not how she had envisioned her first big band performance, but she was determined to make the most of this opportunity. With the regular singer off sick, Elizabeth finally had her chance to swing it with the very best.

Sound check was coming to a close. The musicians had their instruments in tune, the microphones were in place and the sound engineer was happy. The band leader wandered over and interrupted his young friend's thoughts. An old school jazz musician, Herb was looking forward to playing with his favourite pupil.

`So, Miss Libby, you about ready to give us a song?'

`Try holding me back honey!'

Elizabeth couldn't contain her smile as she walked over to her microphone. Nervous as she was, she knew Herb would ease her in gently. Besides, this was a moment she'd been dreaming of for years. A few nerves weren't about to spoil it all for her. Standing in the centre of the stage, her skirt floating around the slender curves of her legs, she chose to seize the moment, to throw herself into living her dream.

Knowing her as well as he did, and proving her trust in him to be right, Herb did the gentlemanly thing and started her off with a few of her favourites. The familiar opening to Dream a Little Dream rang through the ballroom. All other activity in the hall ceased as people turned to watch the music makers.

Elizabeth let the rhythms wash over her, losing herself in the music she loved. She forgot to be nervous as she let her voice flow out of her.

Stars shining bright above me,
Night breezes seem to whisper I love you
Birds singing in the sycamore tree,
Dream a little dream of me.

For a first try, the song went well. Clearly enjoying the moment, the band rejoiced in playing together again, with each musician playfully attempting to outdo the rest. The result was a joyful cacophony of music - not quite the professional sound that they were hoping to produce the next night but a joy to play and listen to. Elizabeth felt at home behind the microphone. She sang well, but knew that she had a lot to learn before she'd be ready to entertain all the guests that were expected the next night.

Rehearsals continued steadily for another hour, by which point Elizabeth's voice was in need of a rest. Her mind was whirling from the almost constant stream of instructions Herb had been giving her - sing, don't sing, improvise, listen, dance. Leaving the noise of the band behind her in the hall, she headed out of the expansive ballroom through the door that she hoped would lead to the kitchen. The Georgian mansion was grander than most of the national trust properties she loved to visit, but the buzzing, homely atmosphere saved it from the conservative, museum like feel of so many of those places. Having found her way through the maze of corridors and grand rooms, she was pleased to be back at the main entrance to the house, fairly sure that she knew the way to the kitchen from there.

Down a short flight of stairs, she found the room she was looking for. The kitchen was warm and homely, with red flag tiles and a well scrubbed oak table in its centre - a strange contrast to the understated elegance of the rooms above. Elizabeth paused to imagine the room as it must once have been - buzzing with the activity of servants, filled with the smells of cooking and baking, the commands of the chef shouted above the general hubbub. As it looked now, she could easily imagine big family dinners taking place here, with a roaring fire in the grate and hearty, home-cooked food on the memory-laden table.

Remembering the mission she had been charged with - tea and biscuits all round and a large glass of water for herself - Elizabeth looked about her for the lady who had welcomed them earlier. Arriving late with no idea of where she was going, she had been relieved to be met by such a warm personality as Mrs Reynolds. Not only had the lady welcomed her like an old friend, she had also promised to help her find accommodation for the night, managing to put Elizabeth's mind instantly at rest on the matter. She had the feeling that once Mrs Reynolds had accepted a task it was as good as done.

`Hello?' she called out as she helped herself to a glass of water. `Mrs Reynolds?'

Hearing a noise outside, she turned towards the door that led from the garden. Fully expecting it to have been caused by the lady she sought, Elizabeth took a sip of her cold water and waited for the housekeeper to appear. Unexpectedly, she heard the sound of that good lady's footsteps on the stairs that led from the entrance hall, and Mrs Reynolds appeared at the other end of the room.

`Miss Bennet,' she smiled in greeting, `did I hear you call me?'

`Yes, I wondered if you'd mind if I made some tea for the band?'

`I'll fix you up with some right away,' the housekeeper offered, immediately heading into her walk-in pantry to get the things she needed. `I had meant to offer earlier, but with all these extra people here, I'm having quite a time staying on top of it all,” she called out.

Elizabeth laughed. She could tell the housekeeper was relishing the hustle and bustle that was going on around her. Before she could reply the door from the garden opened.

`Don't suppose the kettle's on?' came a voice she knew too well.

The world stopped spinning. Time stood still as Elizabeth stood transfixed, her laughter extinguished. She knew he hadn't seen her yet, but short of some extreme intervention on the part of some merciful divine being, there was nothing she could do to save herself. Staring blindly into space, Elizabeth sensed him come into the room. Without needing to see him, she knew the exact moment he spotted her.

`Elizabeth,' he said, his voice a disbelieving whisper. Surely not. Here? In his house? How? What act of providence could have possibly brought her here?

`Hello Will.'

He didn't know what to say, just that he had to say something. But how? He could hardly think much less organise his thoughts enough to compose a whole sentence and say it out loud. Realising that he had already spent too long trying to come up with something, Will said the first thing that came into his head.

`Cup of tea? That is,' he mumbled, absently rubbing his cheek with the palm of his hand as he spoke, `would you, can I get you, I was going to have a cup of tea,' he finished lamely. Realising too late the absurdity of his question, Will focussed his attention on his muddy shoes to hide his embarrassment. The re-entrance of Mrs Reynolds, carrying possibly the largest teapot in the world, rescued a relieved Elizabeth from having to answer.

`Tea?' she repeated happily. `Lots of tea William. I see you already know Miss Bennet here. You should have told me dear. I'd have given you a tour of the house.'

The housekeeper's happy chatter finally drew Elizabeth's attention back to the present.

`Oh God!' she exclaimed as the truth hit her like a brick. `This is your house. This is your party.'

Will couldn't help raising a wry smile at the look of dismay on the woman's face.

`I didn't know. I wouldn't have come. I'm sorry. I'll leave. Now. I'm sure the band can find someone else. I'm sorry.'

Without daring to meet Will's eye, Elizabeth turned and fled the kitchen.

`Wait!' desperation caused him to cry out to her. `Please don't. I mean,' he took a deep breath and forced the pieces of his brain back into order. `Maybe we could talk?'

Mrs Reynolds took the hint and, with a thoughtful look at the couple in front of her, quietly left the room.

Elizabeth had stopped at Will's request, but still could not bring herself to look at him. She stood silently, dreading being alone with him.

Will looked at the woman in front of him, his mind racing as it strove to find the right words.

`Elizabeth,' he began hesitantly. `I don't know why you're in my house, or what you're doing in my kitchen, or why you imagine I would want you to leave for that matter, but I'm sure there's a good reason for all of those things. And whatever it is, I want you to know - I don't want you to leave.'

Finally raising her eyes at the gentle tone of his voice, Elizabeth looked up and was instantly flooded with memories. How handsome she thought him. How rude he had been, how dismissive and aloof. His treatment of Jane. His declaration of love. Her rudeness and unkindness. His explanation and her shame. With so many emotions rushing through her head, Elizabeth simply stared at him in silence.

The sound of the band started up again in a distant part of the house. As the first few notes of the piano drifted down through the open door, Will realised what had brought Elizabeth to him.

`You're here with the band?'

He was pleased to receive an affirmative nod.

`You're singing?'

Intrigued as to what response she might get, Elizabeth looked at him as she nodded her reply.

`Wonderful. That's wonderful,' he exclaimed, smiling broadly. `My aunt will be thrilled. And Georgiana. She's been wanting to hear you sing for a long time.'

Feeling all the oddness of their situation, Elizabeth didn't know how to take Will's enthusiastic outburst. The tornado that hit her brain when she saw him standing in front of her receded, leaving a trail of devastation in what had previously been her brain. Her thoughts seemed twisted inside out, scrambled in her head, yet all vying for attention at once. In desperation, she blurted out an honest question:

`So you really don't want me to go?'

`Go? God no.' Realising that Elizabeth would probably be in his house for the best part of the next two days, Will found himself feeling strangely calm in her presence. He chose his words carefully. `Apart from the fact that my family would never forgive me if they found out that they had lost the chance to have you sing at their party, I would very much like it if you would stay.'

Still she struggled to think of a reply. Here she was, in front of the man who had dominated her thoughts for the last six months, the man that she had talked to in the mirror more times than it would be prudent to admit to any mental health professional, and she couldn't think of a single sensible thing to say. Beginning to feel somewhat foolish, Elizabeth looked up and caught Will's eye. Something in his expression and the hopelessness of her thoughts birthed a bubble of laughter inside her. The recognisable grin on her face brought a smile to Will's lips, and an all too familiar flipping to his stomach.

`Thanks Will,' she choked out, those two little words telling Will everything he needed to hear. She would stay!

Before she could say anything else, Mrs Reynolds came hesitantly back into the room.

`I hope I'm not disturbing you William, only I did promise to put some tea on for everyone. With all the running round that's been going on, I'm sure they're quite parched by now.'

Will smiled fondly at his considerate housekeeper. `That sounds like a wonderful idea Mrs Reynolds. I'll give you a hand if you like.'

`Perhaps it would be a better idea for you to go and change out of your muddy things young man,' she suggested in a tone that brooked no refusal. 'I've enough to do this weekend without having to follow you around with a mop and bucket.'

Will looked bashfully at his dirty shoes and muddy hands. `I was helping to set up the lights in the summer house,' he offered by way of humble explanation.

`Well off you go and change. Plenty more jobs to be done before your aunt and uncle arrive.' Elizabeth was amused to see Will being bossed around by the homely lady in front of her - this was definitely a new side to Will Darcy. `Maybe you could show Miss Bennet the way back to the ballroom on your way. I'll bring the tea in when it's ready.'

Rolling his eyes at Elizabeth in mock exasperation, Will bowed gallantly and gestured for Elizabeth to lead the way out of the kitchen. They walked in silence up the stairs, both wanting to say so much but fearing to say anything at all.

Elizabeth, always the more talkative of the two, was the first to gather her courage.

`Will, I,' she broke off almost immediately with a small sigh. Having begun though, she was determined to say what she needed to. `I really didn't know this was your house. I don't mind if you want me to go?'

The last was said as a question, to which Will could only turn to her and repeat what he had said earlier, sorry that she thought so badly of him that she needed to ask again. On hearing the honest note in his voice, Elizabeth had no choice but to believe him. By now they were standing outside the ballroom, the chattering of the band members reminding them that they were no longer alone. All of her previous feelings of awkwardness returned, and she quickly turned to return to her friends.

`Elizabeth,' he called her back. `Would it be alright if Georgie and I come down later on to watch you rehearse?'

Such a humble request from the man who was, after all, the host of the party and owner of the house brought a wry smile to Elizabeth's lips. Will couldn't help but smile back, delighting in the joy her presence brought him.

`Sure. I'd like to meet her,' was all she said as she again turned and walked to the stage at the far end of the enormous room. Before she could suppress it, a thought wandered into her mind - I could have been living here now. This could have been my house, my party! An amused sigh turned into a happy grin as she hoisted herself back onto the stage.

Mrs Reynolds soon followed Elizabeth into the room, pulling a hostess trolley piled high with biscuits and tea cups. She chatted with the band while pouring drinks, and then stayed on for a few minutes to listen to the rehearsals, intrigued by this bubbly woman and the spell she had cast over her employer.

Elizabeth was used to singing with Herbie, but only as part of his jazz quartet. He'd been her piano teacher for nearly four years and had been the one to encourage her to work on her singing as well, so that both of them delighted when she had fist performed with him twelve months previously. To so suddenly be climbing the steep learning curve of fronting his twenty piece band was something which she had never dared imagine. There was so much more to think about, so many more people to listen to. On their part, the band were used to the habits of Julia, their usual singer, and had to learn to interpret their new leading lady's body language. But Elizabeth was keen to learn and easy to teach, and a morning which could have been fraught and frustrating had turned out to be fun for everyone. Elizabeth was pleased to find that she was making less mistakes as time went on, and the band were more than satisfied with their newest member. If they were being honest, they'd have had to admit that she wasn't as talented as Julia, but she had a natural exuberance and understanding of music that more than compensated. And as far as the male members were concerned, watching her dance about the stage was more than enjoyable.

Herbie decided she had practised enough for them to indulge in one of his favourite rehearsal tactics. The band would play a song, and then after a while, he would point to a different member who would pick the next tune, the more audacious the change in style the better. This would be a big challenge for Elizabeth, as she would have to improvise a lot, but Herbie was the kind of man who believed in pushing you out of the aeroplane rather than talking you into jumping.

Missing her cue a few times, and having to sing several songs that she didn't know many of the words to, Elizabeth was certainly put through her paces over the next half hour as Cry me a River was followed by the trashy Hotta Chocolotta, itself succeeded by Big Boy Blue. But she did it all with such good humour and humility that no-one was able to get upset with her. Tomorrow night was still a long way off, and she would know most of the set list in advance, allowing her time to revise lyrics and increase her confidence. In the meantime, her natural jazz rhythm and ability to own the stage even in an empty room was electrifying, distracting many of the other workers from their business.

Given that they had now been rehearsing for nearly four hours, the band took a welcome break for a late lunch. Having had his ears carefully tuned to everything that was going on in the ballroom since meeting Elizabeth earlier, Will was on his way to meet her as soon as the band put down their instruments. Bringing his sister and cousin with him, he was delighted to be able to introduce Georgie to the woman he had told her so much about.

With her skin still flushed from singing, she looked to him more vibrantly beautiful than ever. He remembered the first time he had met her, when he had declared himself too busy to be concerned with being polite to a waitress. He cursed himself for the stupid pride that had caused him to jump to such a stupendously false conclusion. She wasn't even a waitress - not that he would have minded if she had been - she was just helping out before taking her seat behind the piano. He'd lost count of the number of nights he had lain awake, unable to forgive himself for his arrogant disdain.

Most people might have assumed that it was her voice that had captivated him later that same evening, that when she began singing he was hopelessly lost in her sultry tones. But after hours of reflection, he knew that it was more than her voice - he could write a list of the things about her that he adored: her playfulness, her generosity, her elegance, her laughter, her intelligence, her ability to understand and charm people, her feminine sexuality.

Seeing her now, looking so happy amongst the musicians, he felt a deep pang of regret at all that had passed between them. But now she was here, in his home, filling and completing it with her presence. And best of all, she was willing to talk to him. It was more than he had dared to hope for.

“Beth Bennet!” cried Rich, following his cousins through the door. “Now I see why Darcy was so keen to drag us here. One minute we're in the middle of our lunch, the next he's stealing my fork and pushing me out of the door. But I must say it's worth it to see your beautiful face again. How are you gorgeous? And more to the point, what are you doing here?” Elizabeth laughed aloud as Rich squeezed her in an enormous hug and tumbled words out of his mouth.

“Hello yourself Richard,” she responded, releasing herself from his arms and turning smilingly to Will and the young lady next to him.

“Elizabeth, this is my sister Georgie,” he offered. Immediately, Elizabeth's heart warmed towards the shy girl in front of her. Aware of all that the sixteen year old had been through in the last year, she felt a strong desire to befriend and protect her.

“Hi Georgie. It's lovely to meet you. I'm sorry for interrupting your lunch!”

“You didn't really. We'd all finished except for Richard.”

“And I don't count I take it?” laughed her cousin.

Will was delighted to see that his sister was immediately relaxed in Elizabeth's company. He had hoped that Georgie would like Elizabeth almost as much as he did, but worried that her shyness would prevent them from forming any kind of friendship. Apparently his concern was unnecessary - they already appeared to have bonded in the face of Richard's teasing, against which they were putting up a spirited defence.

“What do you mean, fat? I'll have you know that I'm still the same size I was when I was eighteen,” he protested at Georgie's accusation.

“Yes,” Will strung the word out thoughtfully, “your mother always said you were a chunky child.”

Instinctively he ducked the playful blow that he knew Rich was about to aim at him. Beth and George laughed at the cousins, before Beth took the opportunity of their distraction to link her arm through Georgie's and possessively lead her away from the boys. The pair struck up a conversation about music, with Georgie entreating Elizabeth to play something for her. Elizabeth was surprised but pleased to hear that Will had so lavishly praised her abilities, and agreed on the condition that Georgie would return the favour.

“Elizabeth,” Richard interrupted, “what are your plans for the rest of the afternoon?”

“I'm finished with rehearsals for the day - they need to sort out the lighting or something so we've been banished from the hall. I need to learn some lyrics and still have to sort out somewhere to stay the night, but otherwise I don't have any plans.”

“Well the problem of where you can stay is easy,” replied Richard matter of factly. “This house has what, seventy nine bedrooms or something.”

“Sixteen,” corrected Will as though it were a perfectly ordinary thing for a house to have so many rooms.

“Plus the guest cottages makes about seventy nine. Anyway, as I was saying before I was so rudely interrupted,' he continued with a wink in Beth's direction, 'there's tonnes of space here. And even with all the guests mother has insisted on inviting, I'm sure there's a couch or something left over that you can sleep on!”

Afraid to look at Will for fear of what his reaction to his cousin's impetuous invitation might be, Beth jumped in quickly to reply, “No really, it's fine. I don't want to be in the way. Mrs Reynolds is already run off her feet trying to deal with all of the guests that are expected tomorrow. I couldn't impose.”

“You wouldn't be Elizabeth. Really,” Will implored, finding the idea of her staying in his house to be deeply appealing.

“But you have so many people coming tomorrow. Don't tell me that you haven't already allocated every last bed in the house.”

“Actually, we haven't,” came Georgie's determined voice. The two men looked at her, surprised that she would join this conversation. “There's a spare bed in my room, if you don't mind sharing with me.”

Feeling all of the simple honesty in Georgie's invite, Elizabeth was unable to do anything but accept, feeling only slightly nervous about spending so much time in Will's presence. What was going on? Four hours ago she was preparing to sing at the anniversary party of some anonymous millionaire, and now here she was busily reminding her heart of how much she loved said millionaire's even richer nephew while agreeing to spend the night under his roof.

“That's sorted then,” said Richard happily, noticing but choosing to ignore the look that was currently being passed between Darcy and Elizabeth. “What I was going to say is that my mother, father and other assorted Fitzwilliams are expected here in the next hour or so, and that at four o'clock we have a dance lesson planned. Since something tells me you already know how to swing - in the kindest sense of the term you understand - Miss Bennet, I rather hoped that your feet might like to come along and assist those of us less endowed with a sense of rhythm than you.”

“How could a girl resist such a wonderful invitation? As long as my feet may bring the rest of me too then I'd love to come,” she laughed. “Are you're sure your parents wouldn't mind me joining in though? I'd hate to gate crash.”

“Mind you joining in? Have you met my parents? The more the merrier as far as they're concerned, and God bless you you're a beautiful jazz singer who can dance - if the party wasn't a celebration of my parent's marriage, I'd swear that my father would fall in love with you on first sight.”

Elizabeth was horrified to feel herself blushing at Richard's careless use of the word 'love'. She wasn't ready for that word to be spoken in Will's presence yet. Knowing that it was silly to let herself feel so embarrassed at a throwaway remark, she managed to laugh, looking anywhere but at Will as she did so.

As far as that gentleman was concerned, the idea of anyone apart from himself dancing with Elizabeth was simply unthinkable. And yet, he had to remind himself, she had once made it painfully clear to him that she was no-one's to possess. She would dance with whomsoever she wished, whenever she wished. All he could do was pray that he might be blessed with her hand at some stage.



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