Eternal Melody Page 12

In unison, Rebecca and Luke scrambled off the bed. “Yes, Ryan! Just a minute!” She called, frustrated.

  Reining himself in, Luke said, “I’m sorry that your brother is finding me in here. There’s not even a place for me to hide.”

  “Why would you hide? I’m a grown woman and can have anyone I want in my apartment.” She said snappily, treading over to the door to let Ryan in.

  “Rebecca, I’m sorry to bother you in the middle of the night…” He stopped himself, taking inventory of his sister’s bare legs and Luke’s mussed hair and shirt half out of his trousers. Ryan initially looked shocked, but soon his expression turned to embarrassment and he addressed the wall, “I’m very sorry to be intruding, but what I have to say cannot wait until the morning. I really wish it could, or else I wouldn’t be standing here…”

  “Looking at the wall?” Rebecca supplied as Ryan’s face turned red.

  Luke spoke up. “This is quite embarrassing, Ryan. I want you to know that my intentions with Rebecca are respectable.”

  “It’s really none of my affair.” Ryan said uneasily, looking as though he were primed to leap from the window.

  “What is it that you needed to say, Ryan?” Rebecca asked, hoping to allay his discomfiture with a neutral discussion.

  “Actually, it, uh, concerns both of you. I, uh, had some brandy and cigars with Mr. Graysen…he really is a great man, very paternal. A widower. Has two daughters back in the States. Um, I learned a lot about him tonight. But I’m deviating. Anyway, he told me that we,” he nodded towards Luke, “need to be at the rail station by six o’clock tomorrow morning. So, I came to say goodbye to you now, Becky, rather than wake you before dawn.”

  Rebecca felt her heart thudding sickeningly as she realized that Luke would be gone in less than eight hours. And her brother was interrupting their last few moments together. For the first time in her adult life, she found Ryan irritating.

  Fortunately, he knew he was in the way and made haste of his farewell business. “Well, dear sister, I will leave the two of you in privacy. Goodbye for now. Take care of yourself over the next month, and be very careful in the city. Spend more time with Grandmother and the baby. Luke, I’ll see you tomorrow morning. Good night.” Ryan stumbled out of the room, tripping over a pile of clothing.

  When they were once again in seclusion, Luke shoved his shirttails back into his trousers and readjusted his tie. Rebecca observed him, devastated that he seemed to be preparing to leave.

  “My brother ruined the mood, didn’t he?”

  Luke gave a tight grin. “Well, he certainly didn’t help the mood. But I must go and get some sleep now, Rebecca. You heard how early I have to be at the train station.”

  Witnessing the sadness that veiled Rebecca’s innocent blue eyes, he embraced her once more, not wanting to get too close so as not to be able to resist her. “I’m very much wishing right now that I didn’t have to go. If I hadn’t met you, this trip to Munich would have seemed like a dream come true.”

  Rebecca’s expression softened. “It’s still a dream come true. Don’t fret over leaving me. I’ll be here when you return.” She reassured sincerely.

  “But we’ve only just met. If we spend a month apart…” Luke stopped himself, unwilling to utter the disheartening words.

  Tonight was a test for him to see whether he was driven by lust or conscience. It would be so easy to make love to Rebecca and leave his stamp branded on her, to claim her as his territory like a male animal in the wilderness. But he was not a male animal, he was a man. And he refused to let his baser instincts prevail when he had nothing concrete to offer her. If his performance in Munich garnered critical acclaim, then his status in society could rapidly augment. But for the present, he was a lowly, undiscovered musician. Interpreting classical music in Vienna was like designing fashion in Paris or baking pastries in Bavaria. Everyone wanted a chunk of the success, but there was only a finite, and very competitive, amount to go around.

  “Luke, you look as though you’re in the midst of a reverie.” Rebecca observed, as Luke returned his attention to the lovely woman standing before him.

  She still had made no effort to cover herself, with her stockings hanging over the bedpost and her dress practically twisted into knots. He really did have to leave quickly or else his instincts would surmount his morals.

  “I guess I must be getting very tired. Be well, Rebecca, and I will see you in a month.”

  She held her breath as she looked at him, waiting for him to say something more consequential than the banal phrases he had just mumbled. If he wanted her to wait for him, then it would have been customary to make that request of her.

  Squelching a burning impulse to strip bare in front of him and openly seduce him into fulfilling the desire he had stimulated, she bid him a stony goodnight to match his. “Very well, Luke. I wish you the best in your travels and in your performance. See you in a month.”

  She gave him a chaste kiss on the cheek. Unbeknownst to Rebecca, the seemingly innocent contact enraged his unsatisfied yearnings.

  Unable to control himself, he gathered her into his arms for a parting embrace that would irrevocably leave his personal mark on her. Luke would not succumb to his overwhelming need to make love to her, but he did kiss her with every bit of passion contained within his body. She responded stirringly, weaving her hands into his dark hair and moving her lips confidently over his. Boldly, she tasted the masculine grotto of his mouth, assimilating his unique flavor and scent so that she would carry it with her long after he left.

  With a movement that nearly wrenched the last tenuous shred of his self-control, Luke broke off the kiss and rasped, “Good night, Rebecca.”

  He immediately turned around, reached for the doorknob and banged his arm carelessly against the wall, cursing under his breath. In the darkness, he found the doorknob and made a conspicuously clumsy departure, walking into the door and whacking his other arm into the wall once he reached the banister.

  Had Rebecca not felt so crestfallen over his departure, she would have exploded into peals of laughter. Aside from the ungainliness of his exit, Luke’s fumbles confirmed the force of his passion. Rebecca did not doubt that Luke had wanted her fiercely in those last moments, but he was trying to be a gentleman, and for that she respected him. But it also made her desire him even more.

  Wiggling out of her dress, Rebecca clamored under the pillow for her nightgown and briskly stepped into it. She lay down on top of the covers, staring listlessly out the window and wishing that she had some kind of sleep potion. Her eyes remained stubbornly open while her mind replayed the bittersweet experience she had just had. It was all novel to her, these irrepressible feelings of longing. Never before had she felt so terribly restless and discontent.

  Lunging up from the bed, she went to her desk in search of the book of poetry Luke had lent her. Feeling slightly foolish, she held the pages up to her nose, hoping to recapture some of his masculine scent. She opened the book to the first page and began to patiently read every verse of every poem contained therein.

  A misty pink sunrise was sweeping through the window when she finally set the book down on her night table and sank into sleep.

  *****

  Standing before Alice Denmaker, Rebecca felt as though she were filing a criminal report with the authorities. The woman looked sternly from Rebecca to the clock on the wall that indicated the nine o’clock hour.

  “Why are you not at the mansion? You should be mopping floors right about now in my estimation.” Mrs. Denmaker gave her a disapproving scowl.

  Rebecca struggled to find the words to explain her embarrassing predicament. From the looks of Mrs. Denmaker, she would not react very sympathetically. In the most controlled and projected voice Rebecca could conjure, she explained the sordid encounter.

  “I am not at the mansion this morning because Mr. Brecht attacked me yesterday in the master bedroom. I was changing the sheets as instructed when he accosted me from behind the door and
forcibly pulled me into a lewd embrace. He groped me in unmentionable places and tried to frighten me by claiming that no one would hear my screams. Needless to say, I fought him to break free and, when I did, I immediately ran off the premises. Under these extreme circumstances, I hope you will understand why I was unable to complete my work yesterday and why I cannot return to that residence.” After she had spilled the whole demeaning story, Rebecca exhaled shakily, cringing at the recollection of the man’s fatty hands sliding over her body.

  To Rebecca’s dismay, Mrs. Denmaker stared at her uncaringly and exclaimed, “I’m afraid I don’t see a problem!”

  “Excuse me?” Rebecca screeched, dumbfounded.

  “Listen, young lady. When I hired you, I told you that this is a cash operation. That means that from time to time you will encounter a randy fellow like Gerhard Brecht who will try to bribe you into becoming his mistress. Unless you were raised in a cave, I don’t see why this would surprise you.” The older woman finished her outrageous speech with a detached shrug.

  Rebecca’s jaw dropped, and for several moments she was speechless. When her tongue was again functional she defended herself fiercely. “With all due respect, Mrs. Denmaker, I may not be the most sophisticated person in the world, but I know what is proper. The audacity of this man staggers me, but what is even more appalling is your blasé attitude! As my employer, a married woman no less, I thought you would defend me. This is a housecleaning service and not a brothel, correct?”

  Mrs. Denmaker sighed impatiently and began distractedly shuffling some papers on her desk. “Of course it is a housecleaning service. But you are not exactly in a position to refuse an affluent man’s offer. You should be grateful. He would have paid you very handsomely, I am sure.”

  “Grateful?!” Rebecca sputtered, now seething with red rage.

  “Yes, grateful. Instead, you childishly stormed out of the home of one of my most important and loyal clients.”

  “I seriously doubt that Gerhard Brecht knows the meaning of loyalty.” Rebecca interrupted furiously.

  “It is of no significance what the man’s character flaws are. He is a well paying client, and you may have ruined my chances of his ever using this service again! I’m afraid I have no choice but to fire you.”

  Mrs. Denmaker did not dare to look Rebecca in the eyes as she muttered those dismissive words. Instead, she feigned interest in a document on the corner of her desk, poring over it as though it contained all the secrets of the universe.

  “Why that’s unlawful…that’s unconscionable!” Rebecca burst out, then wondered why she should argue to keep a job she detested so much. If she continued to work for the “cleaning service,” Mrs. Denmaker would likely send her to some other lecher’s abode. Then she would be propositioned by some other cad like Gerhard Brecht. It seemed counterintuitive to grovel for a job that was so inherently debasing, but Rebecca reminded herself how much she needed the money. Rent was due on the fifteenth of August, and she had not yet earned a cent.

  Shoving aside her worries, Rebecca resolved to simply demand the three days’ worth of earnings for which she had worked. Somehow, she would figure out a way to earn money that would not compromise her principles.

  “Fine, Mrs. Denmaker, I am fired. Please just give me the three days’ salary for the work I’ve completed.” Rebecca held out her hand, unwilling to be trifled with any further.

  Begrudgingly, Mrs. Denmaker grabbed some bills from a wad in the desk drawer and practically threw them in Rebecca’s face. Without another word to the horrid woman, Rebecca exited, lifting her chin so high that she nearly dislocated her jaw.

  *****

  Rebecca sat in the rehearsal hall, nervously biting her fingernails. It was a habit she had acquired as a little girl, shortly after losing her parents. Only in severely stressful situations did Rebecca revert to the nasty practice. With both Ryan and Luke on a train to Munich and Gregory still lurking around Vienna with an empty wallet, Rebecca felt very anxious indeed. The unexpected events of the morning had compounded all of Rebecca’s other worries until she felt as though she were going to have a breakdown.

  But, she remained stoic and, realizing that she was slouching, sat more upright in her seat. Her grandmother had always told her that correct posture was as important to a singer as it was to a dancer. Smiling at her grandmother’s words, she admired the string instrumentalists on stage and how their fingers worked effortlessly. With a twinge of longing, she recalled Luke sitting on that stage. Before she could dive into a sentimental abyss, Mr. Graysen called everyone’s attention as he always did. Rebecca gave her index fingernail one final chew and tore her hand from her mouth, placing it at her side. If necessary, she would sit on her hands so that her colleagues would not discover what an unbecoming habit she suffered from.

  “Good afternoon, my friends. As you know, Mr. Springwell and Mr. Meadow departed for Munich this morning, and I am sure we will hear a good report from them upon their return in September. You may also notice that another member of our orchestra is missing today.”

  Rebecca craned her neck to scan the stage for an empty chair. She did not know most of the musicians by name and had no idea who was absent.

  “It seems our lead soprano has been stricken with an acute case of laryngitis.” Christopher Graysen explained, as Rebecca had to consciously stop herself from leaping joyfully into the air at the news.

  It was not all that surprising, considering the audible hoarseness of Greta’s voice at last afternoon’s rehearsal. With Greta absent, Rebecca was next in line for the plum role of Pamina. She sucked in an anticipatory breath as the conductor went on.

  “Greta came to see me this morning and scribbled on some paper how she has suffered from laryngitis before and believes she’ll be well enough to sing in a matter of days. Just this morning, I had received word from Mr. Shundry in Munich that, in addition to the violinists, they were also in search of a female soloist. It seemed logical to ask Greta if she would like to go, and she readily agreed. Therefore, she will be joining our violinists to comprise a trio of guest performers!” Mr. Graysen spoke with pride and evident excitement just as Rebecca descended into a state of gloom.

  Luke and Greta were going to be performing together for an entire month in Germany, while Rebecca was stuck behind in that hole of an apartment. Rebecca was now compelled to bite her nails out of anger rather than nervousness. Of course, it was not Mr. Graysen’s fault. The man did not know that there was a jealous love triangle unfolding within his orchestra. But why had he sent such a weak singer? Why hadn’t he asked Rebecca instead of that ludicrous banshee?

  Rebecca looked up to see Mr. Graysen standing in front of her curiously. When had he stopped talking?

  “Miss Meadow, are you quite alright? I just said in my speech that I need to speak with you privately before we begin rehearsing today.”

  Had he said that? Rebecca had tuned out as soon as she heard the awful news that Greta was with Luke.

  “I do apologize, Mr. Graysen. I must have missed that part.” She said sheepishly as he gave her an understanding smile and sat down next to her.

  “That’s fine, Miss Meadow. I first wanted to congratulate you on your promotion from understudy to lead singer!”

  “Thank you, Mr. Graysen.” Rebecca managed.

  “I want you to know that from the moment I heard your glorious audition, I envisioned you in this part. It’s regrettable that Miss Schiller is plagued with laryngitis, but it certainly has opened a good door. When she returns from Munich---and this is just between you and me---she will be filling the role of understudy.”

  Rebecca’s eyes bulged, astonished. “What do you mean, Mr. Graysen?”

  “Listen, I want this orchestra to be first-rate, and the only way that will be possible is through having premium performers such as yourself. When Miss Schiller first auditioned, the orchestra was in its infant stage, and though I knew she was not the most talented, she does have a certain…how shall I sa
y? A certain stage presence.” Mr. Graysen carefully picked his words, but Rebecca knew he was alluding to Greta’s plentiful beauty. “But now that we are in the growing stages, it is time for us to have vocalists who will help us soar. Finally, I am aware that Miss Schiller has been involved in some personal scandals, and that does not bide well for our professional image. But I mustn’t divulge any details.” Mr. Graysen quieted himself, and Rebecca wondered if he knew about Greta’s affair with Luke.

  For the moment, Rebecca’s concerns about paying rent had been allayed since she would now be a paid performer. “I cannot thank you enough, Mr. Graysen! Truly, I appreciate this chance you are giving me more than you know.” She wanted to give the man a hug and peck on the cheek, but she merely beamed at him through luminous eyes.

  “You are most welcome, Miss Meadow.”

  For the remainder of the afternoon, Rebecca rehearsed with the orchestra and, for the first time that week, the group indulged in a dinner break. It was quite clear that Greta had been slowing everyone’s progress, and the musicians toasted merrily to Rebecca with a sweet Rhine wine inside the restaurant where they sat around several oblong birch tables.

  When Rebecca arrived at her apartment that evening, tipsy from too many glasses of wine and exhilarated from hours of singing, she curled up onto her bed and fell into the deepest night’s rest she had experienced since leaving Michigan.

  Chapter Thirteen

  The ensuing weeks were a hurricane for Rebecca, who was constantly engaged with rigorous rehearsals at the hall. She devoted all of her spare time to Gloria and Annabelle, having daily tea with her grandmother and playing joyously with the ever changing tot. As she and Ryan had agreed before he left for Munich, Rebecca gave Gloria a portion of her wages for the old lady to divvy up fairly. Rebecca estimated that by the time Ryan and Luke’s train rolled back into Austria-Hungary, Gregory and Ethel’s ship could be sailing out.

  The steady flurry of activity in Rebecca’s life was not sufficient, though, to keep her daydreams from wandering to Luke. He had not written her once since leaving, but neither had her own brother, so she tried not to read too much into it. Still, speculation about what Luke was doing with Greta gnawed at her mercilessly. She tried to cling to those final moments and that explosive, devastating kiss, but with each new sunrise the memory faded a little farther into the distance.