Eternal Melody Page 7

  A myriad of daydreams carried Rebecca through the train ride and the short walk to the Brechts’ mansion. The estate was situated on countless acres of lush greenery and meticulously kept flower gardens. She rang the bell and jumped, as the butler immediately answered the door.

  “Hello, miss. Are you the American maid Mrs. Denmaker spoke about?” The butler was barely Rebecca’s height, with thick fair hair slicked back and an accent that was identifiably German.

  “Yes, sir. I’m Rebecca Meadow.”

  “Please step inside.” The butler said, and Rebecca did not bother to ask his name.

  As lovely as the Brecht residence was, it was a tad too ornate for her taste, and she wanted to finish her job as quickly as possible. The she could proceed with the important business of the day: visiting her grandmother and sneaking into the rehearsal hall to watch Luke.

  “Here are your instructions.” The butler handed her a list of tasks, then led her to a private dressing room, where she found a maid’s uniform that scandalized her upon sight.

  “Is this some sort of costume?” She whispered once he had excused himself. With bulging eyes, she took inventory of the pencil-thin black skirt, deep cut sweetheart neckline, fishnet stockings, and black heels. “How am I to clean this monstrosity of a house in such impractical clothes?” She wondered aloud.

  With great trepidation, she slipped into the risqué costume and tied the white lace bonnet securely around her face, managing to cover nearly every wisp of her flame-red hair. Feeling as though she were dressed for some sort of wayward masquerade party, Rebecca grabbed a feather duster, along with other cleaning equipment, and began the arduous task of tidying the entire mansion.

  Rebecca slinked back against the door as she stepped out into the corridor, looking both ways to ascertain that the butler was not near to get an eyeful of her in the revealing costume. She made her way into the main wing of the mansion, situated next to a sitting room complete with ostentatious crystal chandelier and velvet-backed armchairs. Priceless works of art lined the walls, reminding Rebecca of her visit to the Mozart house. Yesterday had never seemed so distant.

  Overwhelmed, Rebecca walked over the marble floors, hearing the echo of her own footsteps and feeling uncertain of where to begin. As she was about to tackle the dining room table, still cluttered with breakfast china, a throaty male voice interrupted her work.

  “Lecker, lecker, sehr lecker.”

  Rebecca bristled as she heard the comment addressed to her backside. She recognized lecker as the German word for “delicious” and knew the man was not referring to the leftover scraps of omelet that were congealing on the breakfast plates.

  Grabbing hold of a dining room chair for strength, she turned to face the most lecherous looking man she had ever seen in her life. His sweaty face was as red as a tomato and his body as round as one, with great puffy cheeks and a thin line sketching a mouth that appeared to be salivating. Rebecca winced, deducing that this must be Herr Gerhard Brecht, the man upon whom her wages depended.

  “Hello Mr. Brecht. Is it all right with you if I start in the dining nook?” She asked, grossly uncomfortable.

  “I’d prefer that you start in the bedroom.” He muttered with a wink.

  Alarmed by his response, Rebecca demanded, “Where is Mrs. Brecht?”

  “Shopping as usual, buying some useless knick-knack or other.”

  Desperate to keep the conversation professional, Rebecca commented, “Your English is excellent, sir. And your accent has a British undertone to it. Have you spent time abroad?”

  “Indeed, I attended university in London. Cambridge, as a matter of fact.” Mr. Brecht spoke with a pomposity and sense of entitlement that appalled Rebecca.

  “How nice.” She placated. “Now, I should go about my duties, as there is quite a bit of ground to cover. I would like to be as thorough as possible and not dawdle.”

  Her voice was firm and decisive. To her tremendous relief, a feminine voice came into earshot.

  “Gerhard! Are you already harassing our new maid?” The woman swatted her husband on the back with a slap that reverberated in the massive dining room. “Please excuse my husband. He’s not harmful, but just an incorrigible flirt.”

  Mrs. Brecht spoke with an accent even more refined than her husband’s, and Rebecca surmised that she must be a born and bred Londoner.

  “I thought you were out shopping, Louise!” Mr. Brecht hissed, painfully affronted.

  “Nothing tickled my fancy, Gerhard, so I returned home early. And not a moment too soon, I see! Please resume your work, young lady, and never mind old Gerhard. He won’t bother you as long as I’m around.”

  Mrs. Brecht flounced out of the room with a mortified Mr. Brecht tailing her. Rebecca had to cover her mouth in order to prevent a wild giggle from erupting, so amused was she by the marital spat that had taken place before her. So Mr. Brecht liked to flirt? Well, as long as he kept his meaty paws to himself!

  Hours later, in dire need of a bath and refreshing lunch, Rebecca took leave of the Brecht mansion and wearily walked back to the train station. Once she was back on Kirschstrasse, she was amazed at how the place felt like home. After a morning of laborious cleaning in a strange residence with even stranger inhabitants, the familiar sight of her apartment building was a welcome greeting.

  Before she went upstairs to change into fresh attire, Rebecca debated speaking directly with Beatrice. Somehow, she needed to explain the predicament involving Gregory and Ethel. Then she remembered the language barrier and realized that without Ryan as interpreter, any discussion would be meaningless. Resolving to put that matter on hold for a little while longer, Rebecca changed into a forest green muslin dress and prepared to go in search of her grandmother.

  *****

  The porcelain tea cups clinked musically inside Gloria Meadow’s airy hotel room. Rebecca had found the hotel without incident and now felt overcome with joy to once again be talking to the dear old woman whom she had missed more than she realized.

  “Grandmother, the voyage must have been terribly taxing for you. If I had known that Gregory was going to accost you and bring you overseas, I never would have left Michigan!”

  The rosy-cheeked older woman, dazzling with shiny silver hair that still betrayed a splash of youthful red, tittered and replied, “Nonsense, my sweet Becky! That voyage across the Atlantic was the most fun I’ve had in years! You know, I was still a fairly young woman when my dear Sanford passed on, and I always felt smothered inside that old house. It has so many memories for me, not only of your grandfather, but also of your parents.”

  Gloria Meadow looked at her granddaughter with eyes that communicated compassionate understanding. She knew long ago that Rebecca would not be contained. It was unthinkable to keep such a spirited girl away from the world.

  “Yes, Becky, I’m happy that you made the decision to come to Vienna. Don’t let Gregory tell you that it was improper. Ryan escorted you, and I’m sure has been doing an admirable job of protecting you.”

  “I don’t need protection, Grandmother,” Rebecca quickly replied.

  Gloria’s understanding and liberal thinking had its limits, and she was compelled to disagree. “Of course you need protection, darling. Too many men in this world are like ravenous wolves, and you must beware of them.”

  Rebecca opened her mouth to protest that she wasn’t Little Red Riding Hood, but Gloria went on. “On the other hand, there are some men who are true gentlemen. I won’t disillusion you and say that there are princes or knights in shining armor, but there most certainly are good gentlemen.”

  Rebecca’s thoughts wandered instantly to Luke and how, even during that passionate kiss in the doorway, he had shown himself to be a gentleman and not a ravenous wolf. Maybe a ravenous gentleman, Rebecca thought naughtily, craving the taste of his lips as she usually only craved a delicacy like Belgian chocolate.

  “I hope the man who’s courting you is not one of the wolves.” Gloria said slowly,
as Rebecca flinched, snatched right out of her own imagination.

  “What are you talking about?”

  “Gregory told me how he and Ethel found you yesterday.” Gloria explained softly, as Rebecca searched her eyes, gauging if there was judgment or condemnation there, but she saw only concern.

  Fuming once again over her intrusive brother, she exclaimed, “Gregory is a donkey’s…”

  “Rebecca Sarah Meadow! I forbid you to finish that sentence.” Gloria scolded harshly, intolerant of even the mildest profanity.

  “I’m sorry, Grandmother. I just feel so frustrated and betrayed by him. Did Ryan tell you why he believes Gregory is really here?” A blank look came over Gloria’s face, convincing Rebecca that Ryan had not said anything yet. “Gregory seems to think that I will become a filthy rich diva and that he can live off of my earnings!”

  Gloria seemed perplexed. “But that’s what families do, my dear. They help each other. If one becomes wealthy, all should benefit, don’t you agree?”

  Gloria’s diplomatic approach incensed Rebecca, but she did not argue. Inwardly, though, she felt that Gregory would take her money without any regard whatsoever for her welfare. If a leprechaun offered Rebecca a giant pot of gold coins, Gregory would be apt to toss her a penny and keep all the treasure for himself.

  Gloria went on, “Greed, pride, and selfishness have torn many a family apart. Let that not happen with ours. If you do succeed in singing, which I have every confidence that you will, we will all be basking in your glory.”

  Basking in my money, Rebecca wanted to say.

  Gloria continued, “Gregory lost his job, as you might know, and saw no reason to stay in Grand Rapids when his employment prospects were slim. What better thing to do but all be together as a family again? That’s why we’re here, to show our support of you and Ryan as you pursue musical careers.”

  No matter how Gloria sugarcoated it, Rebecca was convinced that the combination of free money and a free nanny had lured Gregory and Ethel to Vienna. Sensing that it was futile to argue with her grandmother, Rebecca sighed and changed the subject.

  “How is your knitting coming along?” She asked, as Gloria lapsed into a tangent about the latest blanket she was knitting for Annabelle and how the project had occupied her time during the entire boat ride. Rebecca listened to the old woman patiently, though she could feel her heart lurch every time she recalled Luke and his unforgettable embrace.

  *****

  When evening descended, Rebecca was back in her chamber feeling a revival of the restlessness that had always been a mainstay of her personality, but was now even more potent. Afternoon tea with her grandmother had been cut short by yet another unexpected visit from Gregory and Ethel, this time with the infant in tow. Rebecca had rejoiced in seeing Annabelle again, who had already changed and now had silky soft tufts of auburn hair covering her adorable round head. At nearly a year old, Annabelle showed signs of being able to walk soon, as she happily crawled around the carpeted hotel room and took a few tumbles that lightened the atmosphere and made everyone laugh.

  Rebecca’s delight in reuniting with Annabelle had postponed, but not eliminated, her boiling avidity to brawl with her relatives. For that, she would have to bide her time wisely. She had been elated, though, to learn that her apartment building did not have any more rooms at the moment and that Gregory and Ethel would be residing in the hotel indefinitely. Rebecca had no idea where they were going to obtain the necessary funds to pay for an extended hotel stay, but it was not her concern. Her housekeeping job would barely cover her own living expenses, let alone those of two other adults and a child. She hadn’t asked Ryan about his wage as concert violinist, but she imagined that Gregory and Ethel were probably waiting in the wings to leech onto him, even if he earned a paltry amount of cash.

  A rapping sounded at her door, and Rebecca rolled her eyes, certain that Gregory and Ethel had returned to finish their shouting match from the previous evening. Plastering a venomous expression on her face, Rebecca swung the door open and gasped when she recognized her visitor.

  “Is something the matter, Rebecca?” Luke asked with genuine concern, as Rebecca quickly softened her features into a smile she hoped he would find coquettish and carefree.

  “Not at all. How was your day?” She asked breezily, tilting her head to one side.

  “I was about to ask the same of you. Mr. Graysen was looking for you today.”

  “Why?” Rebecca asked, as her heart reeled with hope that he was going to offer her a role.

  “You’re the understudy for the role of Pamina in The Magic Flute. Rehearsals began today. Didn’t Mr. Graysen tell you?”

  Rebecca remembered with a wave of regret how Mr. Graysen had told her that she would be expected to attend rehearsals. With the cyclone arrival of her relatives and the grueling first day as a maid, Rebecca had completely forgotten to go to the rehearsal, and that lapse of memory was unacceptable. She could not allow these peripheral people and circumstances to blockade her career.

  “Yes, he did tell me, but I had an extremely hectic day.” She said vaguely, not wanting to tell Luke what her job was for fear of humiliation.

  “I know you must be very upset after that incident with your brother and sister-in-law. I thought that might be part of the reason for your absence. It’s perfectly understandable. Believe me, I know all about family squabbles. They can be nasty.” He glanced down at his leg, permanent proof of how a fraternal misunderstanding could escalate into a heinous duel. “But you also mentioned starting some sort of job today, didn’t you?” Luke regarded her quizzically, his expression devoid of the flammable reaction she had seen just yesterday. Had his solicitous treatment of her been just a fluke?

  Rebecca had to consciously prevent herself from slumping along with the plunging of her mood. “Yes, I started a new job. But I will be at rehearsal tomorrow. What time does it start?”

  “At two o’clock sharp. We usually break for dinner and then either continue rehearsing in the evening or stage a performance, such as the symphony we played last week.”

  Rebecca was already exhausted thinking how she would spend all morning cleaning behemoth houses for fussy bourgeois folks and then sit through rehearsal all afternoon and evening. How would she even make time to practice her craft? She was aware of the necessity of keeping a singer’s voice in optimum condition, which could only be achieved through grueling hours of practice.

  “Then I will see you at two o’clock tomorrow afternoon. Thank you for calling on me.” Rebecca did not want to dismiss Luke, but she felt uneasy and began to shut the door.

  He clasped his hand over hers on the door and protested, “Wait a minute! Why are you shutting me out so hastily? I thought perhaps you’d like to take a moonlit stroll.”

  Rebecca looked at Luke with his freshly shaven face and fashionable gray suit. She wanted to accompany him, but knew that it would be foolhardy and that she could not sacrifice her sleep lest she wake up past noon and miss her second day of work.

  “Perhaps another night, Luke. I must awaken early tomorrow just as I did today.”

  Disappointment momentarily clouded his eyes, but then he probed, “That new job I suppose? What exactly is it that you do, Rebecca?”

  She darted her eyes nervously, thinking of a plausible occupation that would not bring her so much embarrassment. “I’m a…well, I’m employed as…how shall I say?” She stammered hopelessly.

  Luke frowned. “Are you hiding something? I know it’s none of my affair, but I hope you’re not doing anything unsavory.”

  “Unsavory?” She repeated incredulously. “What on earth is that supposed to mean?” Her eyes flickered like blue flames as she mentally dared him to so much as allude to the most unsavory profession for a woman: harlotry.

  “Well, you know what I mean, Rebecca. An unsavory profession such as…well…” Now it was Luke who stammered uncomfortably in the wake of her stormy glare.

  “Go on. Come right out and
say it. Don’t mince words for my benefit.” Rebecca encouraged icily.

  “Never mind. I didn’t mean to imply anything that would offend you. You just seem so cagey about your new job. You’ll have to pardon me.”

  “I’ll pardon you when you tell me what you’re thinking.” She insisted.

  Knowing that the damage had already been done, Luke deigned to admit what he had been thinking. “I’m certain that I’m wrong, but for a moment I thought that perhaps you had become a…a, uh…”

  “A what? A lady of the night? At seven o’clock in the morning? Don’t you even see the absurdity of your own theory, not to mention the gall?” Rebecca demanded angrily.

  “Of course I do, and I’m very sorry. It’s just that there aren’t many jobs available in Vienna to young American ladies who don’t speak German. Please forgive my crass assumption.” Luke looked at her desperately, feeling like an utter fool for what he had implied.

  Rebecca stood in place stiffly. For Luke to even suspect that she would be a lady of the night was a crashing blow, and she felt winded.

  Luke fidgeted in the doorway, unsure of how to make amends with this woman glowering at him murderously. After the high voltage scene he had witnessed last night, Luke was beginning to think that Rebecca was more than a handful.

  “Rebecca, I don’t know what else to say by way of apology. I hardly know you and I…” Luke trailed off, as Rebecca’s eyes transformed from tumultuous to vacant in the span of an instant.

  “You hardly know me? I see, Mr. Springwell. I suppose that everything I confided in you yesterday about my family was merely casual conversation to you. If you really must know, I am a maid. Now please be gone.”

  Without another word, Rebecca slammed the door in his face. She stood there for several long minutes, half-expecting Luke to knock on the door and apologize again. But perhaps she had treated him too coldly this time. It wasn’t as though they had forged a strong bond that could withstand two consecutive days of emotional outbursts.