Kit lifted a brow, telling Preston without words that he most definitely would, before turning to fetch Madame Durham. The singer was ready, so Kit led her and her husband to the side of the stage, then went up and made the introductions. The men clapped politely and Madame Durham took the stage. Her husband sat at the piano, ready to play accompaniment.

From the first note of Giuseppe Verdi’s “Sempre Libera,” the crowd was riveted. Madame Durham’s soprano filled the room, which had been designed to amplify sound. No one moved. The waiters stopped working and watched from the back, and the kitchen staff all peeked out from a crack in the door. Her voice was beautiful, the kind that filled one’s chest with love and hope, like air infused with pure joy. Kit’s eyes welled, emotion overcoming him as she sang piece after piece, showing the range of her voice.

When she finally finished, the crowd leapt to their feet and broke out into thunderous applause. Madame Durham curtsied gracefully, barely lifting her emerald-colored skirts as she dipped. Mr. Durham also took a bow, then allowed his wife to walk forward and accept more accolades.

Finally, Kit led the couple back to the retiring room. “Thank you. That was absolutely tremendous. You are incredibly gifted, Madame Durham.”

She dabbed the perspiration off her forehead with a handkerchief. “Thank you. Nights such as this make the hours of training and practice worth it. I do love to perform.”

“It’s not as prestigious as Carnegie Hall, but you are welcome here anytime. I’d be honored.”

“As long as you stick to your promise, Mr. Ward,” she said.

Kit nodded, remembering their negotiation when she agreed to perform. Kit promised to host a yearly benefit for the company she recently created, the Black Durham Troubadours. The benefit would raise money to help sustain the troupe between performances. “I’ve signed the contract. Your lawyer will have it tomorrow.”

“Excellent. Will you make sure my driver is ready out front?” She reached for the teapot from earlier.

“I will. In the meantime, I’ll bring you fresh hot water. Would either of you care for dinner? We have lobster and duck.”

Madame Durham nodded. “That is kind of you. Yes, if it’s not too much trouble.”

Kit hurried to the kitchen, where he found Alice and Mrs. Henry wiping their eyes. Suppressing the urge to pull Alice into his arms, he leaned against the counter and folded his hands. “Did you enjoy Madame Durham’s performance?”

“I’ve never heard anything so beautiful,” Alice whispered.

“Me neither,” Mrs. Henry said as a fresh tear emerged. “I’m overcome with it.”

“Would you both like to meet her?”

Mrs. Henry smoothed her hair. “Oh, I couldn’t. I must look a fright.”

“You look beautiful,” Alice told her. “And I’ll come with you. I’d like to tell her how much I loved her singing.”