tons, gazed longingly at Lord Campbell.
Bridget bit the inside of her cheek to keep from laughing at the expression on Campbell’s face. She expected him to tug on his cravat at any minute. But being a well-mannered gentleman, he stood and said, “I would be delighted to assist you, my lady.”
The young lady gave a decent rendition of “The Soldier’s Widow” or “Return from Waterloo.” A rather somber number for a party, but nevertheless, the group appreciated her performance.
Several other guests rose and played various instruments.
“Lady Bridget, surely you must possess a talent for one of our instruments?” Lady Preston smiled warmly at her.
Bridget’s skill at the pianoforte, while not on par with the best musicians, would certainly not embarrass her. “I do play the pianoforte, my lady.”
“Then, please, do play for us.”
Lord Campbell stood at the same time she did. “I will turn the pages for you.” He said it so determinedly she had to assume he did not want another man standing over her, gazing at her bosom while she played.
Once she settled in her seat, she smiled brightly when she saw the music sheet for “No One Shall Govern Me.”
“I will sing this one.” She placed it on the stand and turned to Campbell.
He broke into a grin when he saw the title. He apparently was familiar with the piece.
Bridget began to play and sang the words.
When young and thoughtless, Laura said,
No one shall win my heart;
But little dreamt the simple maid,
Of love’s delusive art.
At ball or play,
She flirt away,
And ever giddy be;
But always said,
I ne’er will wed,
No one shall govern me.
No, no, no, no, no, no,
No one shall govern me.
As she began the second verse, Campbell joined her, his strong baritone a wonderful complement to her soprano.
But time on airy pinions flew,
And Laura’s charms decay’d;
Too soon alas! The damsel grew
A pettish pert old maid.
At ball or play,