Eternal Melody Page 13

  As the calendar inched closer to September, rehearsals were becoming lengthier and more physically demanding. Seamstresses had been commissioned to design costumes, and Rebecca assigned her grandmother to help complete the laborious task of clothing an entire chorus. Sewing helped Gloria to be content and feel useful rather than a burden on her granddaughter. In addition to the costumes, the set needed to be decorated lavishly, and stage hands from around the city came in every day to contribute to the project. It was a complex set to design, as the opera took place in Egypt. Every detail was crucial, from the paper cutouts of palm groves to the desert backdrop against the Pyramids.

  Tickets were currently in production at the printing press, as The Magic Flute was scheduled to début on the eighth of September and run through the first week of October. If it opened to good reviews, then it was feasible that the orchestra would be taking the show on the road. Rebecca held fast to that aspiration, determined to give a memorable performance and begin a career across Europe.

  When the calendar page finally flipped to September, the entire ensemble was in a panic about their looming opening night. Each day, Rebecca waited for a knock at her door, hoping that Luke would come for her immediately from the train station. But every day, her fifth floor chamber was silent except for the sound of her own voice. Even Mr. Graysen was becoming nervous, as he was counting on Luke and Ryan to perform, even though they had missed the majority of rehearsals. The two young men were so adept at handling their instruments and knew the opera so intimately that they would be able to slip seamlessly back into the orchestra.

  By the time the fifth of September dawned, and they were a nail-biting three days from débuting, Rebecca’s stomach stirred with butterflies, not only from stage jitters, but out of fear that something had happened to Luke and Ryan.

  That afternoon in rehearsal, Rebecca frantically pulled Mr. Graysen aside. “Do you have any idea what has delayed Luke and Ryan?” She asked, not bothering to mention Greta. For all she cared, Greta could have fallen head first into another dimension.

  Mr. Graysen nodded his head reassuringly. “As a matter of fact, I just received word that they were asked to give encore performances in Munich. That’s why they have not returned as scheduled. But they will be arriving on the afternoon of the eighth.”

  “But that’s opening night! Will they be able to perform?”

  “I don’t see why not. They might be very tired, but they’re solid young fellows. They can fall comatose after giving a stellar performance, as long as they wake up the next day and do it all over again!” Rebecca smiled, appreciative of Mr. Graysen’s humor. “Do not worry at all about them. I want you to concentrate solely on preserving that angelic voice until our début. Can you do that for me?”

  “Yes, Mr. Graysen, yes I can.” Rebecca said, though she doubted it. At that moment, Rebecca spotted her grandmother walking into the hall with a bag full of linens. Rushing over to the woman, she exclaimed, “Grandmother! Did you come here all by yourself?”

  “Don’t look so concerned. I’ve been cooped up in that hotel room for far too long. It was a pleasure to escape for a while.”

  Rebecca regarded her skeptically, alarmed that the old woman had walked so far in the summer heat. “But you must be completely dehydrated. Come, let me fetch you some water.”

  “I’m fine, dear. You know that I’m a spry lady, not an invalid!” Gloria shook her head in amusement as shiny wisps of silver hair draped over eyes that were as china blue as Rebecca’s.

  “I don’t believe I have had the pleasure of making your acquaintance, madam. My name is Christopher Graysen.”

  The women whirled around to find Mr. Graysen smiling jovially with an outstretched hand.

  “It’s wonderful to meet you, Mr. Graysen. My granddaughter speaks very highly of you. I’m Gloria Meadow.” The two shook hands and exchanged a lingering look.

  “The pleasure is mine indeed. I must thank you for all your hard work sewing costumes for our chorus. I know it was a helter-skelter, last minute sort of endeavor.”

  “Not at all. You provided the fabric, and it has been a very enjoyable way to pass my days. I hope you will be pleased with the results. This bag contains just a sample of what I’ve sewn. My grandson will be bringing the rest later, I hope.”

  Gloria looked at Rebecca, knowing that Gregory was unreliable. As far as Rebecca was concerned, transporting a few bags of clothing was the least that the slothful cad could do. It still irked her that neither he nor Ethel had lifted a finger since arriving in Vienna.

  “Excellent.” Mr. Graysen rejoined, and Rebecca noticed a sparkle in his eyes that she had never glimpsed before.

  Glancing over at Gloria, she saw that the old woman’s eyes were keenly alight. Upon closer perusal, Rebecca also noticed that her grandmother was not as frail as she had been back in Michigan. Despite frequent dinners of thin, watery broth and stale bread crusts, Gloria seemed to have gained weight. Rebecca wondered if she had developed a fancy for the rich cakes and pastries that were available in abundance all across Vienna. That would easily explain the woman’s new plumpness that lent her face a youthful glow.

  With uncharacteristic shyness, Gloria said, “Well, Mr. Graysen, I certainly would not want to keep you. You have an orchestra to conduct, and I have more clothes just waiting to be sewn.”

  “Madam, you have not kept me at all. Thank you once again for your selfless contribution to this orchestra.” As he spoke, Rebecca found it funny that he should say that, as Gloria was being paid a stipend for her work. But neither one of the silver-haired folks was making much sense in each other’s presence.

  “You are most welcome. I must be on my way now. Good day, Sir!”

  Before she could walk away, Mr. Graysen kissed her hand, sending her into girlishly convulsive giggles that flabbergasted Rebecca. Gloria had not behaved that way in front of a man since her husband had passed on. Rebecca had believed those feelings no longer coursed through her grandmother’s system, but now she realized how foolish that was. Passion was perennial as long as breath and blood flowed through one’s body.

  As Gloria walked out the door with a flirtatious bounce in her gait, Mr. Graysen stared after her, grinning. “Your grandmother is a most charming woman. Is she a widow?”

  Rebecca wanted to laugh at Mr. Graysen’s candor and transparent attraction. But, perceiving the earnestness in his face, she replied seriously, “Yes, she is a widow. My grandfather died when I was ten.”

  Mr. Graysen appeared to be doing some mental calculations as his eyes darted up thoughtfully. “And how old are you now, if you don’t mind my asking?”

  Generally, Rebecca would have been scandalized by such a question, but she merely grinned and said, “I am twenty-two.”

  “Twelve years is a long time for someone to spend in solitude. My wife passed on four years ago.” Mr. Graysen suddenly became quiet, lowering his eyes as if overcome with renewed sorrow that had long been buried. “Tabitha was my first love. We grew up in the same little town in Massachusetts. I married her immediately after high school. She adored music as much as I do, and we would spend hours discussing composers and operas. And what a marvelous singing voice she had. She was a soprano, like you. Our two daughters also have an affinity for music, but they do not play an instrument or sing, much to my disappointment.”

  “What a beautiful love story.” Rebecca breathed, before adopting a lighter tone in response to Mr. Graysen’s comments about his daughters. “Sometimes the musical gene bypasses a generation, or at least part of a generation.” She thought about how tone deaf Gregory was. “For example, Ryan and I are both musical, but our eldest brother is not at all. Our grandmother sings, but the rest of our family has voices as flat as a sheet of paper!”

  Mr. Graysen chuckled and said with an arch of his eyebrow that betrayed keen interest, “So your grandmother sings?”

  Rebecca smiled knowingly. “Yes, Mr. Graysen. Indeed, she taught me everything that I know ab
out music.”

  “What a remarkable woman.” Mr. Graysen murmured. “Oh, dear, now I’m thinking about my daughters. They haven’t been the same since their mother passed. I suppose their husbands take good enough care of them. If they hadn’t been married, then I never would have left Massachusetts.” Mr. Graysen confided.

  “You must miss them terribly.” Rebecca remarked, perceiving the man’s mournful countenance.

  “Yes, I do. I have not seen them for several years. But that’s enough chatter about my woes! Let us begin rehearsal.”

  *****

  Rebecca awoke the morning of September 8, 1900 as a child would on Christmas, dashing to the tree to unwrap a pile of toys, books, and candy. Along with excitement, Rebecca felt a tingling sensation of nervous energy that started in her fingertips and rushed wildly to her toes. Bypassing breakfast, Rebecca practically jogged to the rehearsal hall. With each accelerated step she took, she wondered if her nervousness was simply because this was the long awaited opening night. Or, more frightening, was her body reacting to the fact that she would finally see Luke again after his extended absence?

  When she arrived at the rehearsal hall, the theatre was already abuzz with activity. Set designers scrambled around making eleventh hour adjustments to the scenery, while the musicians rehearsed furiously in a whirlwind of dissonance.

  Luke, spotting Rebecca from across the theatre, immediately slammed down his violin, nearly shattering the thing to pieces in his haste to greet her. They rushed over to each other, forgetting for the moment that their colleagues might notice their ardor. When he was standing inches away from Rebecca, he stared down into her face, drinking in the sight of her like a man dying of thirst.

  “Rebecca, it is wonderful to see you. You look more beautiful than when I left. You didn’t meet anyone new, did you?” He questioned, waiting breathlessly to tell him that she hadn’t.

  To his relief, she laughed and replied, “No, I have not!” Then, catching his insecurity, she asked him the same question, equally delighted when he confirmed that her fears were unfounded.

  “I have waited a month for this moment. Tell me we can be alone after the show.” He urged in a tone that took Rebecca by surprise.

  Had Luke been this solicitous before he went away? Suddenly, she could not remember, but knew that she was as desperate to be in private with him as he was with her.

  “Yes, we can be alone after the show.” Rebecca whispered helplessly, shivering as she imagined their coupling.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Luke handed Rebecca a tissue and commanded, “Remove every layer of that makeup, Becky, right now.”

  The opening night performance had garnered a standing ovation from the audience. Now, Luke and Rebecca were back in her bedroom, still giddy from the success of the live performance.

  Bewildered, she asked, “Why?”

  He chuckled and smirked at her. “I am a man who appreciates natural beauty. I cannot even recognize you underneath all that paint. It’s intended to be worn on stage, not in the boudoir.”

  “You shouldn’t even be in my boudoir!” She exclaimed, blushing.

  Luke shook his head in wry amusement. “But I am here. And I only want to see the real you. On stage, you’re dazzling inside that costume and even underneath all those pasty cosmetics. But behind closed doors, I want you to abandon the façade. Abandon the outside world and be present with me. Unveil your true beauty that I assure you is more dazzling than any glamorous dress or priceless jewel. You don’t need any enhancement. Just be Rebecca, and your beauty will be utterly breathtaking.” He took the tissue and spread it over her lips.

  She met his hand and grabbed the tissue, wiping her entire face until it was nude and rosy from the friction.

  “Is that better?” She queried softly, nearly speechless.

  “That is perfect.” Luke answered, bowing his head to capture her lips, bruised tender from the roughness of the tissue. He released her hands so that he could yank her pins from her hair, letting the fiery mane tumble over her shoulders. Ignoring the pins that fell to the ground, he moved his lips hungrily in synch with hers, gathering masses of her hair into his hands and inhaling the sweet fragrance of it.

  Rebecca stood on tip-toe to reach him, feeling liberated without any cosmetics, her hair completely loosened and fanning as a brisk gale blew in through the window ajar. To Luke’s pleasurable surprise, it was Rebecca who led them towards the bed, as she began to walk backwards, still clinging to him and rubbing her lips enticingly against his. As he pushed her down onto the mattress, she recalled the heated night that they had begun to make love and then been intruded upon. It had been so painful to watch him leave, knowing that he would be in Munich for an entire month.

  This time, she did not care if the entire city of Vienna came rapping at her door; she would not let them in. No one could intrude on this long awaited night of lovemaking and emotional union. Rebecca let out a moan of delight as Luke began to rip off her dress impatiently, pulling on it violently until the frock lay in a shapeless heap on the floor. She tugged on his necktie, eager for him to be free and naked too. Swiftly, he tore off his tie, followed by his shirt and trousers. Rebecca lay on the bed, examining him with glazed eyes. His chest was even more muscular than it appeared in clothes, and every ripple of his abdomen was clearly defined.

  Though he was no longer a runner, his legs were still powerfully sculpted and athletic. Once he was nude, he made haste to join her again on the bed, lying full length on top of her and covering every part of her writhing body with a trail of kisses accompanied by stimulating, fondling hands.

  For a moment, he pulled back, gave her a hard look that smoldered dangerously. He whispered, “You cannot see how beautiful you are, but I can. You have never looked more stunning than you do right now.”

  She smiled up at him and wound her arms around his neck, urging him back down to her lips. Against his mouth she breathed, “Luke, you know this is my first time.”

  He tensed for a moment at the rousing sound of her breathless, impassioned voice and replied in a strained tone, “Yes, I know. Just relax and let me love you.”

  With his heart thudding in quick palpitations, he dove into her, body and soul, as she expelled a muffled cry against his shoulder. Their union was jarring and tender at the same time, with Luke patiently waiting for Rebecca to find a pleasurable rhythm and then losing himself in it and surrendering to its cataclysmic force.

  In the radiant aftermath of their lovemaking, Luke lay facing Rebecca, silently admiring the curve of her profile and the light freckles that sprinkled her nose. The bed was barely wide enough to fit a child, let alone two adults, but he relished the closeness that the tight quarters allowed. As he watched Rebecca’s lashes flutter sleepily over her oceanic eyes, Luke could not remember a time when he had felt closer to anyone. For the brief time he had a tryst with Greta, there had never been a shred of intimacy to link them together. Their language barrier, along with Luke’s pervasive instinct that she was not trustworthy, always precluded true bonding.

  Soon, Rebecca’s breathing became steadily softer until it was barely audible, and Luke did not want to disturb her. Instead, he gently lifted the sheets a bit higher until they reached her collarbone, so that she would not get a chill during the night. As his lids became heavy, he let his mind plunge into an encompassing state of unconsciousness, sliding his arm around her smooth shoulders while they slumbered together.

  Pale yellow light stroked the room, warming the naked lovers who slept entangled between the rumpled cotton sheets. Rebecca was the first to stir as she awoke with a mighty yawn followed by a sigh of contentment as she gazed over at Luke still sleeping soundly. She marveled how he still looked disarmingly handsome, even with his hair in all directions and traces of her burgundy lipstick smudging his unshaven cheeks.

  She reached out a hand to touch one of those roughened cheeks, enjoying the bristly sensation against her silken palm. Luke mumbled something
incoherent in his sleep, making Rebecca feel protective of him as she nuzzled closer.

  A few moments later, he awoke to greet her with smiling eyes and a groggy, “Good morning.”

  “Guten Morgen, Herr Springwell!” She said playfully, eliciting a hoarse laugh from him.

  “I think that may be the first time I’ve ever heard you speak German, Liebling.” She beamed as he addressed her by the German word for “lover.”

  “One night with you and there’s no telling what I might do!” She replied brightly, feeling a wave of uncommon energy rush over her.

  It was very different from the restlessness to which she had become so accustomed. And it was also contrary to the excitement she felt on stage. Lying in Luke’s arms the morning after making love for the very first time infused Rebecca with an unprecedented lightness that permeated her every nerve ending.

  When he leaned over to kiss her and sweep her once again into his embrace, she surrendered instantly, daringly climbing astride him and initiating a new position. Headstrong and willful as she was, Rebecca delighted in seizing control over him and drawing him into her unpracticed but intoxicating motion. He lay beneath her with wide, wild eyes, basking in the sight of her fully displayed nakedness and letting his hands roam to places that he knew would make her blush.

  But instead of coyness, Rebecca was charged with a fresh boldness that reminded her of fleeing the house near midnight to catch a train to New York. There had been no turning back, no relenting to fears. Instead, she had pressed forward and ventured into completely uncharted terrain, like wandering around a dark forest without a compass. She had known what her destination was, but not the road that would bring her there. Now, as she undulated her hips over Luke and caressed his ribcage, Rebecca felt the same way, except that this time she knew neither the route nor the destination. She knew nothing of the past nor future. The only existence that resounded with truth was the bliss that she felt merging with Luke Springwell.