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Authors: Susanne Dunlap

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BOOK: The Musician's Daughter
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To my dismay, as soon as I took a step forward my uncle rushed up to me and claimed my arm.

“You look very pretty,” he whispered, smiling and nodding to his acquaintances as we passed. Toby had let go of my train. I looked back and saw him being ushered over to the side by a footman to stand in a group with the other pages. At least there were some boys his age present. Perhaps the evening would not be too dull for him.

“I am sorry I could not have escorted you here myself,” my uncle said. “Some—developments, you know.”

My uncle cut quite a different figure from the one I had met previously at his ease in his everyday garb. I wondered where he had gone to change into his purple satin evening coat, gold waistcoat, black breeches, and red high-heeled shoes with gold buckles. There was so much lace clustered at his throat that as he walked it caught a slight breeze and flipped up into his face. He blew it down quickly each time, but our step
poof
step
poof
progress struck me as so funny I could hardly contain my laughter.

I soon realized that we were aiming toward a group of old men standing off to the side. As we approached, I noted several diamond and emerald rings on their fingers, and one or two wore military medals and ribbons on their breasts. “Gentlemen, my niece, Fräulein Theresa Maria Schurman,” my uncle said when we reached them. I curtsied low. Whoever they were, there was no question in my mind that they were all either noble or at least wealthy, and so required the deepest reverence. When I rose from my curtsy, I could not help noticing the expressions in their eyes, which were variations of the hungry look my uncle had when he watched me at the dressmaker’s.

“Might I request the pleasure of the first dance with your niece?” said the one who looked the oldest and most decrepit.

“Of course, General Steinhammer,” my uncle said, his smile stretching and pushing the folds of fat on his cheeks to the edges of his face. He didn’t give me a chance to answer for myself.

But as the general reached for my hand, I felt a gentle touch on my shoulder.

“Ah, there you are my dearest!”

Everyone, including my uncle, bowed deeply to the lady whom I knew before I saw her would be Alida Varga. I turned and flooded her with a grateful look. She linked her arm in mine. “I know you will forgive me, gentlemen, but I wish to present my cousin to Her Highness the Archduchess.”

Six pairs of astounded eyes shifted back and forth between Alida and myself. We looked nothing at all alike—she had golden-blond hair, round blue eyes, and clear, even skin with a warm glow, whereas I had light-brown hair and gray eyes that drew to points at their outsides, and I tended to freckle—making her claim to kinship rather unbelievable. I curtsied to the gentlemen and let her lead me away, knowing that my uncle would be utterly furious with me, and rapidly trying to figure out how I would avoid him for the remainder of the evening.

We took a leisurely stroll around the room. Alida’s pleasant expression never varied. It seemed that every other person nodded or bowed to her as we passed. One or two elderly ladies stopped her and asked to be presented to me. She made the introductions with no excuses for my humble name, and we continued until we came quite close to the orchestra, which was arranged on a dais at one end of the ballroom. I noticed Zoltán, of course, who followed us with his eyes as we passed by.

“There is a certain plan for the evening,” Alida said. “And we would very much like your help in executing it. I was meant to complete the task, but I would have put myself at great risk of discovery and jeopardized everything we have been working toward. And so now I shall ask you.”

I was conscious of the light pressure of her skin against my arm.

“The general you were about to dance with was responsible for a terrible massacre near our estate in Hungary about five years ago,” Alida continued, still smiling sweetly. “We believe he is one of the people named in the report your father was carrying the night he was killed.”

I began to tremble. Somehow, until that moment, everything had seemed very remote and unreal. How could bits of paper, and secrets about people far from our cozy apartment in Vienna, have anything at all to do with me? Yet it was these bits of paper that had led my father to risk so much. And it was this general who had almost touched my hand who might have been involved in his murder.

Alida took two glasses of wine from a footman’s tray and gave one to me. “You must be strong. You look beautiful. To night, if you are willing, you will learn how to use that beauty without giving up your virtue.” She steered me casually into an empty anteroom. “Let me fix your train, my dear,” she said loudly so that anyone nearby would assume that was our reason for entering the deserted space.

Alida leaned in close and whispered instructions to me, at the same time tucking a small, folded piece of paper into the top of my bodice, where it caught on the medallion and chain. I intervened, pulling out the medallion so that I could better hide the note.

“Ah, so you found the pendant,” Alida said, taking the medallion in her fingers and turning it over.

“Yes. It was the most extraordinary thing,” I began to explain to her, but she put her finger to her lips.

“You may tell me later. After I finish explaining what you are to do, you will return to the ballroom and let the general claim you for his partner. Wait until the musicians perform the Ländler. He will hold you close for part of the dance and you should lean forward—so.” She demonstrated a coquettish pose that allowed me to see into the top of her gown so that I blushed beneath my rouge. “Then let the general know you have something important to show him.”

“What do I do then?” I noticed that she hadn’t really given me an opportunity to refuse, but I wouldn’t have anyway. I was too much under her spell.

“Lead him off the dance floor to this room.”

“Suppose he does not follow me?”

Alida smiled. “I have no doubt that he will do precisely as you wish.”

“And once I am here? What then?”

She was about to tell me, but the sound of laughter approached, and a young girl with a rather drunk-looking gentleman following her slipped into the room. “Oh! I do beg your pardon,” she said.

“We were just leaving.” Alida turned to me. “There, you are all fixed. Shall we return to the dance?”

CHAPTER 17

W
hen we emerged from the anteroom, the ballroom was much more crowded than it had been before. Now it was difficult to get from one place to another, and Alida had to let go of my arm just to avoid bumping into people. Every other word I heard was “Pardon,” or
“Entschuldigen-Sie.”
Soon I lost sight of Alida completely. I remembered to hide the medallion away again. The attention it seemed to receive when it was in view made me even more uncomfortable than the stares that followed me. I did my best to appear as if such public gatherings were as natural to me as breathing, and listened to the music to calm myself. The small orchestra—more a band, really—was playing something quiet that was meant as a backdrop since the dancing hadn’t started yet. I recognized a popular aria from one of Salieri’s operas.

“Theresa Maria!”

My uncle’s voice startled me into whirling around. He reached out and grasped my arm with so much force that I thought someone might notice.

“How do you come to be
related
to a maid of honor?” he hissed into my ear. “Especially one who is known to have Reformist sympathies?”

I was spared the need to answer him by General Stein-hammer, who bowed to me and restated his intention to claim my first dance. The orchestra struck up a leisurely triple time, and I decided I had better not put off the task Alida had given me. I saw her joining the dance with a handsome young officer. But they were down at the other end of the room.

To my dismay, however, rather than a country dance, which would have made conversation difficult, the movement changed to a Polonaise. The reason soon became clear: the archduchess had risen to take the floor, her partner none other than my uncle. Now we would have to promenade around the room, and I would be forced to talk to the general. What I had recently learned about him from Alida made my flesh crawl as he lifted my hand to lead me into the dance. I couldn’t help watching my uncle smile and lean in to whisper to the archduchess, who more than once fluttered her fan in front of her face to hide a giggle.

ONE, two, three, ONE, two, three,
I counted to myself, getting into the rhythm of the dance and trying not to forget to sink into one knee and point out the other toe on the strong first beat, then rise up on my toes to step for the weak beats two and three. I noticed that most dancers simply walked in time to the music, but a few stalwarts among us actually tried to dance. That made it a little easier not to talk, since it was also necessary to angle one’s head out prettily in the direction of the extended foot every three beats. So I looked first toward the general, then away.

“I daresay you are a fine dancer, but I had something particular I was hoping to say to you, Mademoiselle.” The general had gripped me closer to him so he could speak into my ear when I turned away, and now I could ignore him no longer.

“Yes, Your Excellency?” I said, lowering my eyes modestly and bending just a little from the waist as Alida had shown me. His eyes found my cleavage as if a magnet had drawn them there. I felt faintly nauseated. I could see the entire train of events before me and would have no power to avert them once they commenced. Once I did as Alida had instructed me, I would have crossed a threshold. I knew that such actions would initiate me into a world of deceit, and I could no longer claim to be entirely innocent.

At that moment we passed by the end of the ballroom where the orchestra sat. Zoltán was in the last chair of the first violins. I looked at him just in time to catch him watching me before he focused on the music in front of him again. I could not see his expression. What must he think of me? I wished I could clap my hands and make time stand still for a moment so that I could run and talk to him, explain that I was about to flirt shamelessly with this old general on the instructions of Alida, that my actions had nothing to do with what I really wanted or how I really felt. But the moment flew by, and soon we were approaching the door to the anteroom where Alida had told me to bring the general.

Now was the time to act. On the next strong beat in his direction I puffed out my chest and leaned forward so that he could get a good look. “Perhaps if you have something particular to say we could find a private room, so that I may hear it the better.” I drew him quickly out of the line and threaded us through the crowd.
What if they’re all looking at me and they think I’m doing this because I want to?
I thought, suddenly conscious of other eyes upon us and one or two knowing smiles.

All at once, a disturbance at the opposite end of the room drew everyone’s attention away. I thought I saw a flash of Alida’s golden-blond hair, followed by whispers all around of “She fainted,” and “One of the maids of honor has swooned.” I did not know whether Alida had timed the diversion on purpose, but I thanked her nonetheless as the general and I slipped into the anteroom.

The door closed behind us, and suddenly I was alone with a man I had been told was a heartless butcher. I did not know what to do next, because Alida’s instructions had been cut short by the interruption. I said the first thing that came into my head. “What was it you wanted to tell me, General?” I batted my eyelashes in an attempt to act coquettish.

He moved toward me, eyes not on my face but on the flesh just above my low bodice. I resisted the impulse to turn away or cover myself with my hands, instead puffing out my chest again.

“I wanted to tell you what a pretty thing you are, and suggest that we come to some mutually acceptable arrangement that would satisfy both our needs.”

I had no needs that he could satisfy and I didn’t want to ask myself exactly what he meant. I turned and walked a little away from him. “Sir, I do not know what you suggest. You cannot be speaking of marriage!”

“Marriage! I should say not. My wife, God bless her, is in excellent health. I speak of something much more entertaining.” He walked forward, hands reaching out to grasp me.

I stepped quickly to the side to avoid him. “My uncle, sir, has undertaken to find me a suitable match.”

The general’s chuckle made me blush. “It was your uncle, my dear, who thought of this arrangement in the first place, knowing that I am willing to pay him well—and you, of course—for certain compensations.”

It took all my powers of self-control not to spit in his face and storm out of the room. I had to remind myself that Alida and Zoltán would not have placed me in this position if there had been any other way to accomplish their goal, and that what was at stake was important enough that my father had possibly sacrificed his life for it. Yet however distasteful the general was, the thought of my uncle was worse. How could he do it? He had as much as agreed to sell me to the general! I hoped that perhaps in some twisted way he thought of it as advancing my position in society. Was it possible that other girls of my station—girls who had not been brought up to believe in honor and humility and saw it only as an opportunity to enrich themselves—would not think twice before agreeing to the arrangement the general presented?

Recalling Alida’s instructions, I did my best to make it appear as if my hesitation were an act of flirtation. “Well, if my uncle has sanctioned it, then I have a message for you.” I leaned over a little at the waist again, and reached into my bodice for the note that Alida had given me. I drew out the piece of paper, and in the process pulled out the medallion as well.

The general clasped my hand hard and took the note from it, opening it with one hand and keeping me gripped with his other. I watched his smile fade as he read, and then his eye rested on the medallion. A look of horror mixed with fury came into his eyes. “Do you know what you’re playing at,
verdammte Tusse
?” the general snarled at me, yanking me toward him. I tried to wrench free, but he wrapped his other arm around my waist and pulled me into him, squeezing me so that I could hardly breathe. His breath smelled foul, like wine and rotten food. “I don’t know where you found that bauble, and whoever gave you this note will find himself regretting it.”

At first I thought he was going to bite me like a mad dog. But just as I realized he intended instead to give me a fierce kiss on the mouth, I heard a noise from behind me. Before I had a chance even to wonder what it was, two men with masks approached, laid hold of the general, and pulled him away, at the same time stuffing a gag into his mouth. I was suddenly at liberty. I opened my mouth to scream out of sheer surprise, but one of the men who had grabbed the general put his finger to his lips to shush me. The general struggled against them in vain. He was old and overpowered.

By now I had recovered enough to recognize Danior’s eyes behind one of the masks. He smiled his even smile at me before whispering, “Well done,
Kushti.

BOOK: The Musician's Daughter
4.38Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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