The Musician's Daughter (15 page)

CHAPTER 18

M
y heart would not stop thumping in my chest as I watched Danior and the other man drag the general through a door hidden in the paneling of the anteroom, its real purpose doubtless to permit servants to come and go discreetly. In an instant, I was alone, feeling how close I had come to being soiled by that despicable man’s lewd proposition and still feeling the pressure of his clammy hands on my waist. I took a few deep breaths to calm myself and patted my coiffure, pushing a bit of horse hair back into its place and pinning my hat down more securely. I pulled up my bodice and tucked the medallion back in its hiding place. Now I had no doubt at all that there was some deep significance to the pendant. My father could not have possessed it by chance. I paused a moment longer to calm myself before opening the door to the ballroom again. I should rejoin the festivities as if nothing had happened.

As I was about to leave the anteroom, something on the floor caught my eye. In the scuffle, the general must have dropped the note I gave him. Although I told myself I must pick it up so that it would not fall into someone else’s hands, my real reason was simple curiosity. The thought crossed my mind that I ought perhaps to let the message to the general remain a secret to me, that I might learn more than I wished to if I knew what it said. But that was only for a second: I had a right—and a duty, I told myself—to know what it contained. After all, I had risked both my reputation and my safety to deliver it. I smoothed it out with trembling hands.

The emperor will be informed.

That was all. Five words. For the general to have responded so violently to it only confirmed that he had something to hide. I still didn’t know exactly what, or even how much it had to do with my father’s secret activities. Or perhaps I was mistaken. The general may have assumed that someone planned to tell the emperor that he had tried to seduce me. The imperial family was notoriously virtuous and very religious. Yet who would really care? Didn’t things like this happen all the time? And there was the medallion, too, and the general’s response to seeing it.

My mind was spinning as I continued into the ballroom. Couples had formed for a contredanse, and almost everyone—except the older ladies and gentlemen with canes—was stepping through the complicated figures. I looked for Alida, spotting her once again with the handsome captain who had led her out in the Polonaise. On the opposite side of the room, the pages still huddled together, a bouquet of young boys in livery whispering to each other and playing what games they could without leaving their posts. I looked for Toby among them.

He was not there.

I quickened my pace toward the pages, at the same time scanning the room for my uncle, who had also vanished.
Perhaps they returned home,
I thought, but then dismissed that as impossible. They would not go without me—unless, it occurred to me, my uncle assumed I would be departing with the general. Over in another corner stood two or three of the men I had been introduced to by my uncle, deep in serious conversation. Uncle Theobald was not among them. Perhaps they would know where he and Toby had gone.

On my way to them I paused and asked one of the pages, “Did you see a young fellow named Tobias Schurman, in blue-and-gold livery? Prince Nicholas Esterhazy’s livery?” He shrugged.

Then the fellow next to him said, “Oh, he was here, I remember, but Councilor Wolkenstein came and took him away. Seemed angry about something.”

I thanked him for the information.
At least he was with my uncle,
I thought. My angry uncle, apparently. What had provoked my uncle Theobald? Had he seen my behavior toward the general? It was exactly as he had asked me. That should rather have pleased him.

Unless, I thought with growing unease, he had somehow discovered that the general had been abducted.

I tried to get Alida’s attention, but she was caught up in the dance and gazing steadily into her partner’s eyes. Perhaps it would be easier to make my way to Zoltán, find some way to tell him what had happened, and see if he had noticed anything or knew why Toby and my uncle had vanished.

But as I started to move through the crowd, the music came to a stop and the entire assembly began to surge against me. I might as well try to fight the currents in the Danube as push against a ballroom full of dancers intent upon reaching the banquet hall next door.

I scanned the sea of faces for anyone I knew. All the ladies with their powder and rouge looked like puppets, and the men, faces red now from drinking and exercise, all blended into variations on the face of the general, which I could not banish from my mind.

I must get out into the air,
I thought. The smell of food nauseated me. I did not know where the cloaks had been placed, nor whom to ask. I was so overheated that I wanted to run out without even bothering to retrieve my wrap.

“Theresa, what is wrong?”

I whirled around at the sound of Alida’s voice. Her hand upon my arm felt cool. It stilled the rapid beating of my heart, and I felt calmer very quickly. “Toby is gone,” I whispered, “and so is my uncle. I don’t know what happened.”

A flicker of alarm passed through her eyes. “Had you said anything to your uncle?”

“No!” I exclaimed, then lowered my voice again. “As far as I know he just saw me dancing with the general and then entering the anteroom, an event I believe he wished for as much as you did.” I blushed.

“
Sei mutig,
Theresa. Have courage. Perhaps your brother stepped outside. It is very warm in here.”

The dashing captain Alida had been dancing with joined us at that moment. “Might I fetch you some refreshments?” he asked, smiling into her eyes and hardly noticing me.

“Captain Berenger, allow me to present my cousin, Fräulein Theresa Schurman,” Alida said. I curtsied and he bowed. “Theresa has lost her page, and wishes to return home. He was dressed in blue-and-gold livery. I don’t suppose you have seen him?”

“No,” he said, “but I am certain we could find someone to retrieve the lady’s wrap and see her to her lodgings, if that is her wish.”

“Excuse me,” I said, and curtsied to Alida, giving her a look that I hoped conveyed the extent of my fear. I had to find Toby, and I intended to start at my uncle’s house.

I asked the first footman I encountered to bring my wrap. I paced up and down in front of the doors while I waited what seemed a long time for him to return with it. I did not let him help me put it on, but threw it over my shoulders and ran out into the cold. I knew my elegant skirts were dragging in the mud, and I felt the satin of my slippers catch on the jutting edges of cobbles and tear. Somewhere along the way my hat flew off. I did not care. If I could have, I would have instantly transformed my finery into a plain, woolen dress, taken down my absurd coiffure, and covered my head with a simple cap. Anxious tears flowed down my cheeks, no doubt making the powder that coated them gather into unsightly clumps. I did not care.

In very little time I arrived at the door of my uncle’s house in the Graben. It was dark and shut up, as if even the servants had retired for the night. I flew up the steps to the front door and began pounding on it and calling out. I knew it would create a disturbance, but I had to rouse my uncle and figure out where Toby was.

I noticed a few candles appear in neighboring windows by the time the bolt was drawn and the door opened to me. I found myself confronted not by the maid but by the icy valet. He smiled a humorless smile. “The councilor said I should expect you. Would you care to wait in the parlor?”

“No, I would not care to wait. Where is Toby? My brother?”

“I fear you must speak to your uncle, and he has gone out briefly. I expect his return at any moment.”

The valet was tall, but he looked frail. He was also old. I had no doubt that I could outrun him. His only advantage would be in knowing the house well.

“Toby!” I screamed as I tore up the stairs two at a time, my petticoats bunched in my fists so that I would not trip. “Where are you?! Toby!”

Somewhat to my relief, the valet did not follow me, but remained in the vestibule holding the lamp. I soon wished I had thought to grab it from his hands, though. The rest of the house was darker than night, and I bumped into several small items of furniture and sent one or two fragile knick-knacks crashing to the floor. As I ran up and down stairs, opened doors, and peered into musty rooms that I could tell even in the dark were devoid of life, I became increasingly convinced that I was alone in the house with the valet. Even the rooms in the attic where the servants slept revealed nothing by the soft light from the street-lamps outside but neatly made cots and a crucifix on the wall. With the exception of the valet, the staff had obviously been given the night off.

I had been over the entire house except for the cellars. I gradually slowed my frantic pace as I returned to the vestibule to confront the dour face of my uncle’s lackey.

“I would like you to show me below stairs,” I said, mustering my most commanding tone of voice. I had no wish to descend to the cellars alone without a light to frighten away the rats. This fellow was so still and quiet I thought for a moment he might be a simpleton. In any case, I no longer feared him for himself, without my uncle to give him power. He was just a servant in a grand house.

“Follow me,” he said, agreeing perhaps a little too readily when I thought about it afterward.

He led me through the kitchens, also empty except for a cat that stirred from its sleep on the hearth just long enough to hiss at me as we passed. He unlocked the door to the most lavishly stocked pantry I had ever seen—with more food stored on its shelves and hanging from its hooks than our entire family would eat in a year, I thought. We passed through this to a door so small I had to crouch to get through it, and the valet nearly had to bend in half. We descended a curved flight of stone steps and ended up in a vaulted underground space. The first room contained racks and racks of wine bottles. It seemed remarkably clean for a cellar. Several other rooms led off that one, the first of which contained stacks of firewood, another with barrels of something that might have been ale, and mounds of turnips and onions. Nothing seemed even the slightest bit out of the ordinary, and my brother was not hidden anywhere in this perfectly orderly space.

It was all as it should be, I thought, until I passed through to the last, large room, which I decided had to be beneath the grand dining room. This area was completely empty. Not in the way of an unused space, but as though it had been scrubbed clean in the recent past. At its end was yet another door, dark and ancient with a pointed top. I rushed to it, grasped the iron ring that served as its handle, and tried to open it. It was locked. The valet had followed me in and lit the way—by now I thought him quite accommodating—and approached with an iron key.

“I presume you would like to see this room as well?” he said.

Thinking back to that moment, I should have been more cautious. I should have paid attention to my first instincts, which were not to trust this servant, who was clearly devoted to my uncle. But instead I stood back and let him open the door. And once it was open, I stepped through it and found myself at the top of a flight of stairs. I could hear water dripping somewhere, and realized I was at the entrance to the new sewers that meandered beneath the city streets and took the waste from thousands of water closets and chamber pots away to the Danube. I turned to escape the stench and saw the smiling face of the valet as he closed the door between us, leaving me alone in the cold, dark space.