Eternal Melody Page 4

  “Yes, of course it’s all right that you live here. I must apologize for my impoliteness. I just hadn’t expected to see you here.”

  “You hadn’t expected to or you hadn’t wanted to?” Luke asked with a frown and raised eyebrows.

  Realizing that she could not delicately evade Luke’s question, she endeavored to change the subject. “I really must bring my belongings upstairs. It’s been such a terribly long day, and I would like to retire to my room.” She feigned a yawn, placing her hand over her mouth.

  He looked intently at her, not entirely convinced that fatigue was the primary reason for her desire to take leave of him so abruptly. “You know, I heard your audition this morning and thought it was riveting. I must offer my congratulations on your attaining the understudy role. Even those are very competitive in Vienna.”

  “Thank you, but how did you hear my audition? The room you were playing piano in was quite far from where I sang for Mr. Graysen.”

  Luke shoved his hands into his pockets and admitted awkwardly, “I was standing in the doorway, but you were so immersed in the music that I guess you didn’t notice.”

  Rebecca resisted the urge to gasp and launch into a theatrical display that was as natural to her as singing. The man had just confessed to being a voyeur, and she was blushing a boiling shade of vermilion at this knowledge. If she were honest with herself, though, the blush derived from exhilarating attraction rather than ladylike modesty. Something in the way Luke spoke to her stirred dormant sensations deep within her and made her long to tell him how she had felt watching him at the piano. But then he would think that she was some kind of common harlot, and she would not have that. Ladies of her era were forced to subdue such passionate inclinations and act coy, and for now, Rebecca knew she had to conform.

  “My goodness, Mr. Springwell. You do shock me! I had no idea that you were ravishing me with your eyes while I sang.”

  “Ravishing you with my eyes?” Luke chuckled. “If that’s what you’d like to call it, Miss Meadow, but I’m afraid you’re exaggerating.”

  She tried to look through him, instinctively knowing that he was protecting his ego with that nonsense about her exaggerating. “Very well, Mr. Springwell. Pardon my exaggeration. I assure you, though, that I am not exaggerating when I tell you that I am in dire need of slumber. My brother and I only arrived here yesterday. Since then, I’ve had barely a moment’s rest.”

  “If you’ve only just arrived, then you must also be in dire need of a tour guide. As I told you earlier, I’ve been here for the better part of a year. You’ll find me a most knowledgeable guide, especially if you have any interest at all in seeing Salzburg. I make regular trips there to pay homage to Mozart.”

  Had Luke read her mind? She was astounded that the one place in all Austria-Hungary that she really wanted to see was one of Luke’s haunts. Ryan was protective, but also liberal and probably would not mind if she went with Luke, especially since he was to be a colleague of theirs.

  “It so happens that Salzburg is a place I am very eager to visit. I’ll consider your offer and let you know at a later time.” She stalled, wanting the pursuit to continue before she agreed to anything.

  Luke smiled broadly, revealing his pleasure at her response. “I do hope you’ll take me up on my offer. They have delightful restaurants in Salzburg. There’s one in particular that serves an excellent goulash. Are you familiar?”

  “Yes, goulash is a Hungarian dish, isn’t it?” Rebecca asked. She had never sampled it personally, but knew that it was a hearty stew consisting of a blend of meat and vegetables spiced with paprika.

  “Indeed, it is a Hungarian dish. It makes a hearty meal for a hungry bachelor.” He grinned. “Their desserts are very Austrian, though, which translates as decadent. They make the richest Sacher Torte I have ever tasted.”

  Rebecca suddenly felt her stomach rumble and mouth water, aware that she had bypassed lunch amid the day’s activities. She had no idea what a Sacher Torte was, but if it was a dessert, then she wanted to taste it.

  “What is that dessert you just mentioned?”

  “Dark chocolate cake with apricot jam. It’s sinful.” Luke smiled enticingly at her, and she felt for a moment as though he were trying to lure her with more than just a torte.

  Collecting her composure, she said primly, “Sounds lovely. As I said, I’ll think about it. For now, I must bid you good day.” She gave him a definitive nod that meant she was really going to leave this time, and he tipped his hat in response.

  “Good day, Miss Meadow.” As he disappeared down the hallway, she could hear him say, “See you soon, neighbor.”

  She stifled an amused giggle and headed upstairs to finally see her new living quarters.

  *****

  The following morning, Rebecca awoke with stiff shoulders and a neck horribly out of alignment. Still, it had been a luxury to sleep in a room that was stationary, not rocking nauseatingly on the ocean or thumping incessantly over train tracks. Add to that the fact that she did not have another audition to face, and Rebecca felt quite felicitous…until she remembered what she had to do that morning. Look for a job.

  As she stretched in her bed, she felt assaulted by sharp sensations of dehydration and hunger. There was no choice. Before she sought work, she would have to eat breakfast or she would be completely useless. Rebecca flung herself out of bed and walked over to her unpacked luggage. Inside the suitcase, she found an ankle-length chartreuse dress with mandatory high collar buttoned all the way to the chin. Rebecca felt like such a frump in these garments and wished that just once in her life she could own a high fashion gown that would not make her look like someone’s staid great-aunt. This thought infused her with even more motivation to rise from the mediocre role of understudy to veritable operatic diva. Snatching her parasol and key, Rebecca dashed out of the room and down the stairs, stopping on the fourth floor to notify Ryan where she was going.

  As she paused in front of his room, she was surprised to see that the door was ajar. “Ryan? Are you in here?” She called from the doorway.

  Luke Springwell strutted over to the door, dressed to the nines in a black suit that made him look completely out of place in the grimy apartment. He greeted her with a smirk, “Guten Morgen. Wie geht’s?”

  Flustered by his presence as well as by his arrestingly handsome appearance in the black finery, Rebecca spun her head around. “Do I have the wrong room? I was looking for my brother, Ryan.”

  “Yes, I’m right here.” Ryan hollered, walking to the door. “Luke introduced himself to me yesterday and came by this morning so we could walk together to the rehearsal hall.”

  “There’s a dress rehearsal for a symphony we’re performing tomorrow night.” Luke explained. “That’s the reason for my elaborate attire. Ryan won’t be performing in the symphony, but I thought it would be useful for him to attend a dress rehearsal and see how we do things. Next week, we’ll all begin rehearsing for The Magic Flute. Then you’ll need to be there as well, Rebecca.”

  She flinched, scandalized that he had called her by her first name in front of her brother. Only yesterday he had referred to her as Miss Meadow, and she did not know where he had gotten the idea that he could chat with her so familiarly. Perhaps she had given him too much encouragement.

  “I’m glad you two have had a chance to become acquainted. Have a good time at the rehearsal, Ryan. And you too Mr. Springwell.” She nodded curtly toward Luke.

  “We don’t have to be formal with each other now, Rebecca. We’re all going to be colleagues and hopefully great friends.” Luke said boldly.

  “He’s right, Becky. You can relax a little. Your shoulders look all bunched up.” Ryan commented, infuriating Rebecca.

  “Yes, Becky, you should relax.” Luke teased.

  “First of all, you may call me Rebecca, not Becky. Second of all, Ryan,” she gritted the name, “if your bed is anything like mine, then you’ll know how I feel this morning. The mattress was so h
ard and lumpy, it was like sleeping on a pile of rocks!”

  To her outrage, both men burst into laughter, causing her cheeks to flame hotter than her blazing hair.

  “The beds are rather harsh.” Luke admitted. “I suppose it’s easier for a man to bear than a woman.”

  “How’s that?” She asked indignantly.

  “Men have stronger muscles and can withstand discomfort more easily than women.” He reasoned, as Ryan traitorously nodded in agreement.

  Now that her brother was a chum of Luke, she did not know if she still wanted to take that day trip to Salzburg. Upon returning, Luke and Ryan would likely fall into uproarious laughter behind her back like two insolent little boys.

  “I regret that I haven’t the time to engage in debate about the subtle differences between the genders and what their muscles can withstand, but I must be on my way. Ryan, I believe you know what that means.” She looked desperately at her brother, hoping that he would allow for a graceful exit.

  He furrowed his brow for a moment, not sure what she meant. Then a glimmer of understanding came over his face and he replied, “Yes, Becky, I know you want to search for work, but do you really want to go on your own?”

  “Yes!” She exclaimed impatiently. “I’ll be quite fine on my own and will let you know how things go.”

  When Luke would have opened his big mouth to say something, Rebecca glided down the stairs and out into the sun-kissed morning.

  *****

  The streets of Vienna were peopled with businessmen walking briskly to their offices and young mothers pushing babies in carriages. Rebecca immediately spotted a street vendor selling breakfast breads, which she hastened to purchase in a larger quantity than she normally would. From the first nibble of sweet roll, she realized just how famished she had been. She gobbled down the rolls quickly and continued along the main street, not quite sure what she was expecting to find. All the signs were written in German and, though Rebecca could understand the writing, she was too bashful in that language to saunter in and ask for work. With her rudimentary vocabulary, any employer would probably laugh her right out of the building. And Rebecca had endured enough mocking for one day.

  She recalled with cheeks flaming afresh how impudent Luke Springwell had been to call her Becky and tease her so mercilessly right in front of her brother. The worst part was not that he had enjoyed the mockery, but that a part of her had as well. However she might like to pretend that he repelled her, she knew that they were opposite magnetic poles inexorably drawn to one another. Even a morsel of mocking attention from him was better than none. But if he continued to treat her that way, she would not hesitate to shove it right back to him. Growing up with two older brothers had taught her how to hold her own in any situation.

  Rebecca continued along the sidewalk, twirling her parasol absently and feeling hindered by the foolish thing. She knew that society expected her to carry around the accessory, considered dignified, but she merely found it a nuisance. Why should a girl be afraid of a little sunshine? With her pale pink complexion, it would be nice to absorb some color from the sun. As a child, she had deliberately lounged under the sun, hoping that it might make her freckles vanish, but years later she had learned that it had probably added more freckles than were originally there!

  Suddenly, Rebecca halted in her tracks on the sidewalk, spotting a sign across the street that was written in English. It read: “Maids wanted. Inquire within.”

  She paused and reflected on the type of employment the sign was advertising. It was a steep departure from what she had hoped to do in Vienna, but if it was only temporary, like her minuscule rented room, then it could be bearable. She was not exactly in a position to be selective.

  Resolutely, Rebecca crossed the street and walked inside the building, as a bell rang overhead to announce her entrance. Moments later, a middle-aged woman with flaxen hair arranged in a severe bun emerged from the back and took a seat at a desk in the center of the room.

  “Good day, Miss. How may I help you?” She asked in a well-bred British accent. Rebecca was instantly set at ease to be conversing with someone who shared her mother tongue.

  “Good day, Madam. I’m here to inquire about the sign outside. Is there still a need for maids?” She queried politely as the Englishwoman looked her up and down, silently evaluating the applicant.

  “Yes, I am still hiring maids. I’m Mrs. Alice Denmaker and I own this housecleaning service. Do you have experience?”

  Rebecca thought quickly, unwilling to lie and say that she had been a professional maid, but realizing that the woman expected her to reply that she was experienced. “In the United States, I was responsible for cleaning the house of a family with three generations living in it.” She cleverly avoided saying that those three generations were her own family and that all she had done was dust and mop every week.

  Mrs. Denmaker seemed satisfied with this response and did not probe further. “My clients are some of the wealthiest families in all of Vienna. They belong to the bourgeoisie and entertain frequently. Therefore, they expect their homes to be impeccably kept. If you would fill out an application, I can hire you immediately and you will be paid on a cash basis. I don’t fuss with the administrative nightmare of work visas, so you needn’t concern yourself about that. Are you available mornings?”

  “Yes, absolutely.” Rebecca replied, pleased that the job would not interfere with her afternoons and evenings. She could save those for attending orchestra rehearsals.

  “Very well. I’ll fetch an application for you and you can start on Monday at seven in the morning. Report here at half past six, and I’ll give you your assigned residences. I do hope you’re an early bird.”

  To herself, Rebecca thought, well, I suppose I’ll have to be, but she simply nodded and waited for Mrs. Denmaker to return with the application.

  After she had signed her name to the application, Rebecca eagerly stepped out into the lively city, feeling that she had earned the right to explore after having so expeditiously secured work. As she rounded the bend of a side street lined with minty-breathed pine trees, Rebecca knew that she was approaching the direction of the rehearsal hall. She was tempted to go there and observe the dress rehearsal, but did not want to face Luke so soon after stalking off and behaving as though she was too busy to spend another moment in his presence. Instead, she headed back towards the bakery. The sweet rolls had hit the spot, and a fresh sandwich with a bottle of soda pop would help her celebrate her new job.

  Chapter Five

  For the next few days, Rebecca did not as much as glimpse Luke. It irked Rebecca that she did not have an opportunity to banter with him. Sometimes, Rebecca discreetly dawdled on the fourth floor, hoping to run into Luke. According to her strategy, if he emerged from his room, she would simply tell him that she was in search of Ryan. It was a perfectly plausible story and would allow her the opportunity to see him again without revealing any interest.

  But Luke proved to be elusive, and Rebecca wondered if he went out carousing after rehearsal. Vienna had a vibrant nightlife, and performers of all disciplines were notorious for drinking too many beers after dark, some even attending opium orgies. She hoped that Luke was a fellow of a higher caliber than that frightful sort of rake. But then she asked herself why it would even matter. After their last encounter, Rebecca had questioned his true intentions. Perhaps he was just a roguish flirt who enjoyed teasing innocent young women.

  Whatever Luke wanted from her, she could not conjecture, but he certainly didn’t seem to care that they hadn’t spoken in days. Perhaps she had really insulted him by flouncing away from him. But if Luke were going to court her, he would have to be a man of steely strength both physically and mentally. Sighing, Rebecca tried to dismiss these nagging daydreams, as she wanted to remain focused on the sole objective that had brought her across the Atlantic Ocean: launching a music career.

  On Monday, she would begin service as a maid, and she was dreading it. She could only
imagine how degradingly the wealthy clients would treat her. The thought of it almost made her want to board a boat back home to Michigan and run to her grandmother’s arms. Grandmother. She hadn’t had time to think much about the dear woman since her arrival, but now, as Rebecca sat in her minuscule room with four gray walls closing in, she thought warmly of her. Rebecca considered writing another epistle to her grandmother to let her know that she was safe and happy in Vienna. Well, at least the first part of the letter would be accurate, as Rebecca could not truthfully say that she was happy.

  Gloria Meadow was a perceptive woman and would no doubt read between the ink-smeared lines to realize that Rebecca was feeling glum. That would only worry the frail woman even more, so Rebecca decided against writing a letter for the time being. She would wait until her mood lifted---when she rose from understudy to leading lady, Rebecca thought deliciously.

  A sudden knock at her door plucked her straight out of her thoughts. Glad for whoever was paying her a visit, Rebecca smoothed over the layers of her ivory dress and went to open the door.

  Standing there, violin case in hand and arrogant grin plastered to face, was Luke Springwell. Before Rebecca could open her mouth to greet him, he spoke with a wry twisting of his lips.

  “Why did you not ask who was at your door before answering it? I could be a thief or worse---a rake who will ravish you with more than just his eyes.”

  Rebecca felt the familiar crimson flush creep into her cheeks, a reaction that always seemed to occur when Luke taunted her.

  “My day has been rather dull, so if it had been Count Dracula at my door, that would have been fine by me. Unfortunately, it’s just you and my day does not look to become any more exciting.” She said breezily as he laughed out loud. Rebecca was surprised that she had not offended him. A man capable of laughing at himself was rare indeed.

  “I wouldn’t be so sure of that, Becky.” He stopped himself and feigned a look of mortification. “Oh, madam, I do humbly apologize. How dare I call you by such a familiar term! Rebecca, what are you doing for the rest of the day?”