Eternal Melody Page 9

  His comments, while comical, were spoken in a manner so impassioned that Rebecca knew he meant every word.

  “We have a responsibility to the legacy of Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart, arguably the most ingenious composer ever to inhabit this earth. Springwell, keep silent.” Mr. Graysen instructed, as Luke seemed primed for debate. “Mozart himself conducted the début performance of The Magic Flute right here in Vienna on the thirtieth of September 1791. Can anyone tell me what tragically happened just ten weeks later?”

  Ryan looked up regretfully from his violin and answered, “Mozart died and was buried in a pauper’s grave. He was only thirty-five.”

  “That is correct, Mr. Meadow. Mozart had not even reached his pinnacle, and he was cut down. We are indebted to him for this music because we would not be here in this room today were it not for him. It is a privilege not only to interpret the music of a genius like Mozart, but to make a living from it! What more could one desire? An unpracticed orchestra and vocalist make a mockery of the man, do you understand? This music is the result of divine inspiration, my friends. Divine inspiration. Are you divinely inspired?” Despite the passion that permeated Christopher Graysen’s words, his voice remained calm and level, somehow rendering his message even more powerful.

  A disgraced silence fell over the room as everyone mulled over the import of the conductor’s reprimand. Rebecca thought fumingly how she would practice tirelessly day and night, until her voice were hoarse, just to do justice to Mozart’s work. Greta, on the other hand, was nothing but a windbag of vanity. Rebecca wished in that moment that she could introduce her to Ethel and send them both floating onto the high seas with a one-way ticket.

  Chapter Nine

  To Luke’s feverish disappointment, Rebecca disappeared immediately after rehearsal. Mr. Graysen had been so disenchanted with the orchestra that he had not arranged for a dinner break, and they had played straight through to the seven o’clock hour. Luke had tried not to make it obvious, but he had snuck several long looks in Rebecca’s direction, bemused by the sight of her in that aquamarine dress.

  Now, as a glowing dusk settled over Vienna, Luke walked back to his apartment, hoping he would encounter Rebecca along the way and have the opportunity to tell her how beautiful she looked. As he walked along the boulevard, Luke was struck by the instinct that he was being followed. He turned around eagerly, expecting to hear Rebecca playfully tell him that she had stalked him from the rehearsal hall to surprise him like he had surprised her at the mansion that morning.

  Instead, he found himself staring into the jade feline eyes of Greta Schiller, looking as though she were about to bear claws and pounce on him.

  “Lukie, how could you leave the rehearsal hall without saying auf wiedersehen? I was waiting backstage for you.” She pouted her cherry red lips.

  Luke was unmoved by her manipulative coquetry. “Greta, it was a long rehearsal. I just want to go home and get some sleep.” He said patiently, forcing himself not to lose his temper.

  Greta Schiller had almost cost him both his career and his very life. When Luke had joined the International Philharmonic Orchestra, he had instantly fallen for Greta’s enticing charms. She had flirted with him shamelessly and encouraged pursuit to the point where any red-blooded male would not have been able to resist. Unbeknownst to their colleagues, Luke and Greta had embarked on a whirlwind affair. The same day that Luke was going to profess his love to Greta, he had discovered that she was a dark sorceress hidden inside a golden goddess.

  Luke and Greta had been strolling arm in arm through the street when a man had accosted them. Initially, Luke had thought that the man was a petty thief hoping to get some spare change. But when the man shouted that Greta was his fiancée, Luke had been stunned. Dennis had threatened, in a gruesomely explicit fashion, that he would end Luke’s life if he ever spoke to Greta again. Greta had cast Luke a vaguely apologetic look and walked away with her fiancé possessively embracing her. After that day, Luke had endured seeing her face every day at rehearsal.

  While Luke was rebuilding his heart, Greta began an affair with another member of the orchestra. Soon, her fiancé found out about this new lover and took back the engagement ring, returning permanently to Switzerland. As Greta stood before him now against the backdrop of a fiery sunset, he was wary of her motives.

  “Don’t go home to sleep, Lukie. Come have a drink with me. What do you call it in English? A nightcap, ja? Maybe some sherry?”

  Luke frowned, “People drink sherry in the afternoon, not at dusk. Besides, I really must be going. After the lecture Mr. Graysen gave us this afternoon, I want to wake up early and practice. It would behoove you to do the same.”

  “Lukie, you are very boring.” The pout deepened, a common trick Greta used that had no effect on Luke anymore.

  “That’s fine. I don’t mind being boring. But I do mind that asinine nickname.” Luke spoke firmly, trying to maintain his reserve, but Greta had the tendency to exasperate people rather quickly.

  He began to stride away from her, but she quickened her pace to move alongside him.

  “Do you have a new girl?” She asked sullenly.

  “That is none of your business.”

  At that point, Luke considered running, knowing that Greta would never be able to keep up in her impractical high heels. But that would communicate to her that she still wielded control over him, so he kept his cool.

  “I think you do have a new girl. Is it someone in the chorus? Or is it a girl from the outside? Tell me.” She pouted in earnest now, as Luke decided the only tactic that might work was completely ignoring her.

  They walked for several blocks in tense silence until his apartment building came into view.

  “Gute nacht, Greta.” Luke clipped as he left her standing on the sidewalk, arms crossed furiously over her chest. Shaking his head in disgust, Luke ascended the staircase until he was on the fifth floor. He hoped that Rebecca would be in her room. Waiting for him…

  He knocked several times on the door, listening for any sound inside and hearing none. Undeterred, he knocked again, this time more loudly, but the chamber remained silent. He needed to see her. It would be too risky to visit her at the Brecht mansion again, but he did not want to wait until afternoon rehearsal when there might again be too much commotion to have a private conversation. On an excited impulse, he resolved to wait until she returned to her chamber, even if that meant that he would have to endure a night of insomnia.

  *****

  The Meadow family sat in awkward silence, eating their plain dinner of steaming broth with semolina dumplings. Gregory had demanded a family meeting be held and, for once, he had made a prudent selection of restaurant, aware that his available funds were dwindling. When he had come to fetch Ryan and Rebecca at the rehearsal hall, she had been livid. Without so much as a word from Luke all afternoon and now forced to dine with her family, Rebecca felt as sulky as the little girl they seemed to consider her.

  The only reason she had agreed to dinner was that it would provide her leisure time with her grandmother as well as with Annabelle, whom she had not seen since Gregory and Ethel stampeded into Vienna like raging bulls. The baby girl was placid in her mother’s lap, accepting sips of broth and cooing.

  “May I have some more ice water?” Rebecca asked frostily, as Ethel lifted the glass carafe and leaned over to place it in her hands.

  “Whatever is that stench?” Ethel exclaimed, expelling a fake cough as Rebecca glared at her. She knew that Ethel was making reference to her lily perfume, and it angered her to think how her heifer of a sister-in-law was the one to notice it, rather than Luke.

  “I don’t smell anything, Ethel.” Rebecca lied. “Do you smell anything, Grandmother?”

  The old woman had not been engaging with the family at all since they arrived in the restaurant, and Rebecca was beginning to wonder if her hearing was on the decline. “Grandmother?” She repeated, tapping her on the shoulder.

  “Yes dear?” Sh
e dropped her spoon, looking up in surprise from her broth.

  “Never mind.” Rebecca said softly, giving the woman an affectionate squeeze.

  “Never mind that you’re saturated in perfume like some sort of…” Before Ethel could utter the odious word, Rebecca clenched her hands into fists and banged them on the table while Ryan came to her defense.

  “Ethel, try to be civilized. This is dinner, and we’re in public, not sitting round our dining table in Michigan!” Ryan exclaimed.

  “Don’t speak to my wife that way! Stay in line, lad.” Gregory spoke to Ryan as though they were father and son, even though barely two years separated them.

  Rebecca rolled her eyes, knowing that Gregory’s defense of his wife stemmed from pride and not passion. He didn’t care how anyone spoke to her except that she was his wife and a reflection on his manhood. Ryan realized this too and returned to his soup without a retort.

  Gregory took a long swig of water, draining his glass and gesturing like a Neanderthal for Ethel to refill it. Then, he pulled his chair back from the table and cleared his throat with an air of exaggerated importance, as though he were about to deliver a political speech.

  “The reason I called all of us to dinner tonight is quite simple. Now that the entire Meadow family is in Vienna, we need to pool our resources.”

  Rebecca and Ryan exchanged glances, knowing exactly where Gregory was leading.

  “The house still stands in Grand Rapids, Michigan, and I am the deed owner. Therefore, I will need to return to the house before winter so that it won’t crumble to the ground and become a financial liability. Of course, Grandmother, Ethel, and Annabelle will all be coming with me. In the interim, I expect Rebecca and Ryan to begin a stash to fund our return trip to the States.”

  Rebecca was so elated by the news that Gregory intended to return home by winter that she almost didn’t want to argue about giving him money. But the image of herself in that appalling uniform slaving away day after day as a housekeeper made her more conscious of how valuable a salary was to one who works for it. Why should she give Gregory money that she literally labored on her hands and knees to earn?

  “Gregory, I believe what you’re asking is unreasonable. You came to Vienna of your own volition with fanciful notions of striking it rich.” She began, but he interrupted her.

  “That’s preposterous!”

  “Oh? Then tell me why you are here.” Rebecca knew she had him caught as he sat rigidly in his chair with Ethel alongside him grimacing and fidgeting. “I thought you might respond that way. As I had started to say, you came here voluntarily, and now it is your responsibility to find a way back to the United States. You are in no position to make demands of Ryan or me.”

  “I’m afraid you’re wrong about that, Rebecca.” Ethel said with a look so smug that Rebecca knew she was plotting something precise and destructive.

  “Why am I wrong?” Rebecca asked, trying to conceal her uneasiness.

  “You have no right to be working in Vienna. You are evading taxes with your cash payments from Alice Denmaker’s housekeeping service. Therefore, the government could throw you in prison.” She said with rich satisfaction that sickened Rebecca.

  She looked at Ryan for support as well as for clarification, knowing that he was the only one who could have leaked the information.

  “I’m sorry, Becky. When I told them about your job, I didn’t think they would try to use it against you.” Ryan shot Gregory and Ethel a darkly disapproving look. “What you’re proposing is blackmail, you know!”

  Ethel shrugged. “Rebecca has cost us enough money already. She should be home in Michigan caring for Annabelle like a good aunt, not whoring through Europe sporting paint and perfume trying to become a singer!” Ethel’s words spilled a burning envy that Rebecca had always suspected was there.

  “Grandmother, are you going to allow her speak to me that way?” Rebecca demanded, not wanting to dignify Ethel’s crass words with a direct reply. As poor as Gloria’s ears were, she had heard every escalating decibel of Ethel’s remarks to Rebecca and could remain a neutral peacemaker no longer.

  “I do not tolerate that kind of language from anyone. Not even when my husband was alive did he dare to speak to me that way! This family needs to unite, not disintegrate. We are all on foreign soil with a limited amount of funds. Therefore, Rebecca and Ryan, I do expect you both to help Gregory as much as is feasible. Gregory and Ethel, I expect that you will not provoke Rebecca as you have done thus far. The language that has passed across this table is utterly unacceptable, but the divisive sentiments are even worse!”

  Gloria’s heartfelt monologue reminded Rebecca of Mr. Graysen’s equally effective speech from that afternoon. The two had much in common, Rebecca thought.

  The family finished their broth in the same tense silence that had marked the beginning of the meager repast. Afterwards, Rebecca was grateful that no one had a stomach for dessert, and she bolted up from the table as soon as Gregory paid the check. Where he had gotten the money from, Rebecca did not know and did not care to inquire.

  Walking alongside Ryan towards their apartment building, Rebecca mentally replayed the disastrous dinner. Even though Gloria had finally spoken up, Rebecca felt Ethel’s threat looming over her. The woman was a cunning fox who would resort to blackmail if it were the only way to keep herself financially solvent. Kicking some stray pebbles on the road, Rebecca sought her brother’s advice.

  “What do you think I should do, Ryan? Should I just give Gregory and Ethel a portion of my wages and bite back my pride?”

  “No, I would suggest giving Grandmother a portion of your earnings, and she can disperse them as she sees fit. I plan on doing accordingly.”

  “But you know Gregory sees himself as the patriarch of this family, and he would be even angrier than he already is if we dethroned him. Besides, I don’t think it’s fair to place Grandmother in the middle.”

  “I disagree, Becky. Grandmother is an excellent mediator, and she can handle Gregory better than you or I can. Just trust me on this.”

  Ryan obviously was not going to relent, so Rebecca nodded and tried to convince herself that his idea was a constructive one. Frankly, between her housekeeping job and rehearsals, she had neither time nor energy to exert over a family squabble. In fact, as the ten o’clock hour drew closer, Rebecca felt her head begin to throb from a combination of physical exhaustion and frayed nerves.

  Upon arriving at the building, Rebecca bid a hasty good night to her brother and walked tiredly to her fifth floor chamber. As she tiredly climbed the stairs, Rebecca was beginning to feel as though she resided in an attic. She hoped the room would not be too infernal, as she had neglected to leave a window open during the day.

  Setting free a mighty yawn, Rebecca approached her doorway, then shrank back into the hallway. Alarmed, Rebecca blinked, as a shadow bounced across the walls. A menacingly large male shadow. There were no men in residence on the fifth floor. Whoever this man was, he had no business being there, and Rebecca had to stifle a scream as she turned to run down the stairs and get Ryan.

  A warm hand covered her shoulder as she parted her lips soundlessly. The man’s hand came over her mouth at once, muffling any piercing that might have emanated from her powerful operatic lungs. She squirmed, trying to set herself loose as the man whispered hoarsely, “Rebecca, please don’t scream…and don’t be afraid, it’s me Luke!”

  Immediately, he uncovered her mouth and released her so that she could turn around and give him her most deadly glare. “Luke! You almost scared me out of my skin!”

  “And you almost woke the entire building!”

  “Well of course I did, I thought you were some kind of criminal! What are you doing on this floor anyway?” Her pulse slowly returned to normal as she looked into his comforting brown eyes.

  “I was waiting for you. Apparently not the most brilliant idea, but I thought you’d be happy to see me since we didn’t have a chance to talk at rehearsa
l.” He explained calmly.

  She managed to curve her lips into something resembling a smile. “I am happy to see you. But standing in a dark hallway in the dead of night is not the way to approach a lady, you know.”

  Luke perceived the gentle scolding in her voice and chuckled. “You’re right. I’m very sorry. For the second time today, I’m very sorry.”

  “For the second time today, you’re fully pardoned.” Rebecca said amiably, broadening her smile. “I had dinner with my family tonight, and I’m so glad to be back here.”

  “Did your brother and sister-in-law upset you again?” He asked, sensing that another confrontation had taken place.

  “Yes,” Rebecca admitted, “but I don’t want to talk about it.”

  “Very well. I suppose there’s nowhere we can go at this late hour, but I was hoping you could at least spare a few moments.”

  At this point, Rebecca suspected that she would be too wound up to sleep, and she was not about to pass on an invitation to spend time with Luke. It had been all she could think about since their sunrise kiss.

  “Yes, I believe I could spare a few moments.”

  “Good.” Luke hesitated. Rebecca’s eyes widened expectantly, as she wondered what he was struggling to say. Finally, he asked, “Would you like to see my chamber? I promise, I’ll be a perfect gentleman.”

  She was not nearly as scandalized as she ought to have been. With a carefree note to her voice, she replied, “I believe you, Luke. Yes, I will come see your chamber.”

  Chapter Ten

  Luke’s quarters were immaculately kept, with not a trace of unlaundered clothing or other disorganization anywhere. Several pairs of newly polished shoes sat in a row alongside his violin case. On his desk were stone bookends housing about a dozen hardcover volumes whose titles were multilingual, with an equal distribution in English, French, and German. Rebecca considered herself a rather orderly person, but even her room was not so meticulous. Her poor wrinkled dresses were still splayed across the bed waiting to be pressed, while the rest of her belongings were buried in dark, unknown places inside her luggage.