As Ashley got closer to Georgia, through the crowd she saw Lord Fairfax seated nearby in one of the conversation circles, chatting with Leighton and Sutcliff.
Her heart caught in her chest when she spotted Ravencroft, giving Mr. Barrett a hug. As he straightened he gave his head a slight shake to flip his long hair out of his eyes. Even through the buzz of conversation, she heard his deep rumble of laughter, felt it right down to her toes.
Before she got close enough to speak to him, the retired music teacher took Ravencroft and Fairfax by the hand as though they were small children and led them right past her, exclaiming “Mrs. Barrett will be so happy to see you both!”
Mr. Barrett was oblivious to her, Fairfax acknowledged Ashley with a nod, and Ravencroft gave her a self-deprecating shrug and half-smile at being led like a child.
They didn’t have far to go, as Mrs. Barrett was seated in the next cluster of couches. Ashley debated moving away so as not to eavesdrop on the reunion, while Mrs. Barrett declared she hadn’t seen ‘young Mr. Linford’ in over two years.
“Amazing, isn’t it?” Georgia said, suddenly at Ashley’s side. “No matter how old one gets, the teacher always sees you as a student.”
“That is true, miss,” Ashley said, affecting a stern voice. “And what do you have to say for yourself?”
They bent their heads together, laughing. They quieted just in time to hear Mrs. Barrett request they sing the “Switch Song.”
“Do you still remember it?” Mrs. Barrett said, addressing both Fairfax and Ravencroft. “You came up with it when Mr. Barrett insisted you practice your upper ranges and you were bored.”
“Ooh!” Georgia clutched Ashley’s arm. “I’ve heard about the Switch Song, but never heard it performed,” she whispered. “I remember Mother and Aunt Lydia talking about it. Uncle David and his friends won a school talent show with it, more than once.”
After Fairfax beckoned them over, Westbrook, Leighton, and Sutcliff joined Ravencroft and Fairfax in a tight circle, speaking so quietly their voices were indistinguishable. After a moment they broke apart.
“Your wish is our command, madam,” Lord Sutcliff said, bowing over Mrs. Barrett’s hand. He was as tall as Fairfax yet stouter than his companions, with short brown hair, and crinkles at the corners of his brown eyes from smiling.
“Oh, la, Lord Sutcliff,” Mrs. Barrett said, fanning her cheeks with her hand. “Go on with you!”
The five gentlemen trooped out of the room.
“I have to tell Mother!” Georgia grabbed Ashley’s hand and they worked their way through the crowd searching for Lady Mansfield.
“He’s going to do what?” Lady Mansfield said a few moments later. “Lydia needs to hear this!”
They found Lady Templeton, had a similar conversation as with Lady Mansfield, who then tasked them to seek out Lady Bedford.
“He’s what?” Lady Bedford quickly made her way over to chat with Mr. and Mrs. Barrett.
While the musicians on the far side of the room continued to play for the dancers near the terrace doors, Mr. Barrett had apparently spoken to Lord Oswego. Footmen rearranged several of the conversation circles to make a small stage area and moved the couches and chairs into rows.
Butterflies of anticipation danced in Ashley’s stomach, for no logical reason. She’d heard all five men sing before, though not together. This would be her first time hearing Lord Sutcliff in a formal performance. Certainly that was no cause for excitement; Ashley would not be adding Sutcliff’s name to her list of potential suitors, no matter how attractive his face or beautiful his voice, after she heard Mrs. Barrett greet another woman as Lady Sutcliff and invite her to sit on the couch beside her.
The five men returned and wended their way through the clusters of people to the cleared makeshift stage area. Lord Oswego gave the signal for the musicians to take a break, and more of the crowd drifted over to watch whatever was about to happen, whispering and wondering aloud. The few couches and chairs filled up quickly, leaving most of the crowd standing.
The men lined up arm’s width apart, each standing in the center of a tile, with Leighton on the far left, Ravencroft next to him, and Westbrook on the far right.
Leighton began singing, higher than she’d ever heard him before, while the other four provided harmony. Ravencroft took up the melody, singing in a low tenor voice. They all began to exchange puzzled glances as they performed. Fairfax sang the next stanza, in a high baritone range she would not have thought possible for him. They went down the line, each man singing lower than the one before, until Westbrook ended the first verse in a bass voice.
As the crowd began to applaud, each man held up a finger, silently asking the crowd to wait. They gathered in a tight circle, heads together, and engaged in an exaggerated yet silent argument. They quickly moved back out into a straight line, each centered in a different marble tile, this time with Ravencroft on the far left singing high tenor, down the line until Leighton on the far right sang bass. Again they each looked perplexed while they sang, sometimes tapping their throat as though the wrong sound was coming out.
With scattered laughter and applause, the crowd began to catch on. Ashley recognized several of the matrons who edged their way to the front for a better view as those who’d been in attendance at previous performances. Lady Danforth already fanned her flushed cheeks.
At the end of each verse they lined up in a different order, seeming still perplexed. Whoever was on the far left sang high tenor, and their voices descended until the man on the far right sang bass.
They began switching places and parts while they sang, their register seemingly dictated by which tile they stood on, the audience laughing in all the appropriate places. Their transitions were seamless, each man perfectly suiting his voice to his position in the lineup, almost dancing as they gracefully swapped tiles. Previous expressions of confusion were replaced with delight as they gave in to the magic ability of the tiles to change their voices. Fairfax flirted with the audience, winking at several women. Leighton was equally charming. Sutcliff saved his smiles and a wink for his wife.
Ashley and Georgia exchanged glances now and then, utterly captivated by the performance. She imagined them as young men still in university, how much time they must have spent in rehearsal not just to learn this skit but also to be able to sing in each range. A way to practice their upper ranges, Mrs. Barrett had said, while their voices deepened as they matured into grown men. The lyrics would have been easy to memorize as this was a popular tune. Ashley had sung it herself and heard it in numerous evening entertainments, though this arrangement was a little different, heavily weighted toward the bass clef. She wouldn’t be surprised if Ravencroft had made the changes.
Her face almost hurting from smiling so much, Ashley leaned around Georgia to check Lady Mansfield and Lady Templeton’s response. They were holding each other by the arm, tears of joy rolling unchecked down Lady Templeton’s cheek as she watched her brother sing and perform as though he had not a care in the world, with not a hint of self-consciousness. Lady Bedford stepped closer, and Lady Mansfield rested her head on her aunt’s shoulder as Lady Bedford put her arm around her.
“Disgraceful, if you ask me,” Lady Bigglesworth said with a snort of derision, the ostrich feather in her green turban trembling in her outrage. “Peers of the realm, acting like common minstrels.”
