Eternal Melody (31 page)

Hurling himself out of bed and feeling a twinge of pain in his leg, as he often did when the humidity was high, Luke
picked some random garments from his armoire and threw them on carelessly.  He had just a few hours of leisure before he would have to see Rebecca again
at the theatre
and, possibly, her
wealthy
suitor
too
with a fresh bouquet of flowers.

*****

On Sunday evening, Rebecca selected a
n arbitrary
dress from her wardrobe, not caring what she wore for Milton.  The first garment she seized from the recesses of her suitcase was a
mucky
brown shade that wash
ed out her complexion, making her face
appear ashen.  She had only worn the dress once before
---at
Gregory and Ethel’s wedding in Michigan.  After Ethel had snubbed her and not asked her to serve as bridesmaid, Rebecca had been so offended that she deliberately donned the most unattractive dress she could find, hoping to blend in with the woodwork.  Surprisingly, men had still asked her to dance that evening despite her
hideous
clothing
.

As she buttoned the dress up to the collar
to completely cover
her neck, Rebecca hoped that Milton would find her
drab
, exonerating her from
ever
being his dinner partner in the future. 
During their conversation outside her dressing room, she had been wholly unimpressed with his conversational skills and his physical appeal, or lack thereof. 
Without his money and height, she doubted that Milton would have
had
the courage to so brazenly approach any woman
, let alone a stage performer he’d never met
.

Rubbing a very light coating of pink color on her lips, Rebecca could not help but think of Luke one floor down in his chamber, if that was indeed where he was.  She had not
spoken to
him si
nce the devastating moment when
he had heard her say yes to Milton Thornbrenner. 
Shaking her head sadly at the memory,
Rebecca tossed a few coins and
a handkerchief into her purse.

A moment later,
she heard footsteps climbing t
he staircase.  T
here was a firm knock at her door, and Rebecca knew that it was Milton, though she still clung to a thread of hope that it could be Luke,
coming to sweep her into his arms and beg
her not to see any other man.  As she primly opened the door and looked up into Milton’s
insidious
gaze, she accepted the reality that, at least for tonight, she had to dine with a man whom she did not love.

*****

As soon as Rebecca set foot in the restaurant, with Milton’s gaunt yet possessive arm boldly encircling her waist, she had a
creepy
sensation of déjà vu. 
The opulence in the French eatery, from the hand-cut crystal
glasses
to the gold-trimmed tablecloths, brought back unpleasant memories of her traumatic
employment
in the Brecht mansion.

Graciously, she allowed Milton to pull her chair out
. She
sat down demurely, instantly burying her face inside a menu, not caring if she
appeared
rude.  To her disgust, Milton snatched the menu from her hands and
set it down on the table out of her reach.

Arrogantly, he asserted, “You shan’t need to skim through that.  I shall order the finest
dishes money can buy.”

Snapping his fingers,
he indicated to the uniformed waiter that he was ready to order.  Without another glance in her direction, Milton tersely
told the waiter to bring the best bottle of red wine in the house along with two servings of filet mignon, cooked rare.

Rebecca nearly
gagged when Milton ordered the meat rare and thought how different it had been the first time she dined with Luke in Salzburg. 
Tapping her nails
distractedly on the table, she tried to smile politely when the waiter
dutifully
returned with a ten-year old bottle of wine. 
Rebecca held out her goblet for him, as her hand
accidentally
knocked against the bottle, setting the waiter off kilter and causing him to spill the wine
on
her sleeve.

Immediately, the waiter apologized in very remorseful sounding German, as Rebecca assured him that it was not his fault and not to worry.
  Milton, conversely, regarded the waiter as though he had
just committed a heinous crime,
giving him a look of such blatant reproach that Rebecca wanted to shut her eyes.

When Milton spoke to reprimand the employee, it was even worse.  “Are you some sort of raving imbecile?  Look what you have done!  You have positively ruined the lady’s dress!”

“Milton, please
,
it’s fine.  This is an old dress, and he certainly has not ruined it.”

Sheepishly, the waiter walked away, leaving Milton staring after him with eyes that blazed irrational fury. 
In that moment,
Rebecca decided that his accent was a
clever
disguise, masking an obtuse and inconsiderate
cad
, rather than a refined English gentleman. 
Shocked by his reaction and desperate to
dismiss the episode, Rebecca took a long sip of her wine and brought up the subject of music.

“So, tell me, b
esides
The Magic Flute
, what other operas do you enjoy?”

With a look of boredom, Milton sipped his wine and replied vaguely, “I enjoy all operas.”  Then, with a twinkle suddenly lighting up his dull eyes, he queried, “How much longer will you be in Vienna?”

“Until early October.  Then, I will be off to Venice.
I’m so excited.
Venice is another marvelous city for musicians.  Did you know that Haydn spent his last days there?”  Rebecca presented Milton with this bit of trivia, suddenly suspicious of his interest in music.  Any connoisseur of German classical music would know that Haydn, the celebrated father of the symphony, had died in Venice seventeen years prior.

“Did he?  That’s interesting.” Milton remarked blandly, taking another sip of wine while Rebecca watched him with a combination of suspicion and distaste.  Each time he daintily sipped the wine his thin lips would pucker as though he were drinking
turpentine, and she rather wished he were
.

“
If this is the best wine in the house, I would not want to taste the worst.” Milton commented with another grimace.  “But, enough about the incompetence of this staff and the inadequacy of this establishment.  Tell me, h
ow long shall you be in Venice
, then
?”

“The duration of my sojourn is undetermined as of the present.” Rebecca clipped formally,
purposely
shoving back a one-sentence answer to the
insufferable
man.

Intrigued by her enigmatic reply, Milton raised a bushy eyebrow and said, “However long you are in Italy, I must see you there.  You make such
an unforgettable
Pamina singing
auf Deutsch
, and I can only imagine how enchanting your voice would
ring
in Italian.”

Rebecca was wholly unaffected by the man’s shallow flattery, but his comment did spark a thought in her that had not been
fully registered
before: she was going to perform in
Italian
!  Triumphantly, she thought how the ruined state of her love life did not matter when placed alongside her flourishing career.

Still, as she snuck another look at Milton from the shield of her wine goblet, she imagined
with a lump in her throat
how happy she would be
if
Luke
were
sitting across from her. 
Rebecca practically smashed the goblet onto the table, impatient with herself for fantasizing about Luke. 
Why was it that every time she tried to bask in the glory of her singing career the image of Luke
Springwell
came back to haunt her?

“Please do be careful with that goblet, Rebecca.  I wouldn’t want to cause
another
uproar after that wine spilling catastrophe.”

Rebecca
shot
Milton a tight smile,
amused that he considered a minor accident to be a catastrophe.  Had the man any life experience at all?  Or had he resided his entire life perched on a
n emperor’s
diamond-studded
throne that rendered him hypersensitive to
the slightest inconvenience
?  Another comparison to Luke inevitably
ensued
, as Rebecca
pictured him
shirtless, laboring away on the farm in
Wisconsin
in the morning and
sweating profusely
while
training for the Olympics
in the afternoon
.  Stubborn as he could be, Luke was the epitome of a man in Rebecca’s eyes. 
If only Luke could see that he would make the best possible husband
for Rebecca
and an outstanding role model for
Annabelle…

Their dinners were served
on silver platters
garnished with intricately
arranged
parsley
.
Rebecca made a valiant effort to eat the quasi-raw meat.  Conversation during the meal was
sparse, as Rebecca pretended to be absorbed in her meal, chewing each bite as though she were deep in concentration.

To Rebecca’s misery, Milton extended the evening by ordering peach schnapps as
after- dinner drinks
. 
When she sampled the sweet yet biting liquid, Rebecca thought how she could have enjoyed the drink under other circumstances, with other company. 
The clock crawled forward like
a turtle.

Just
before midnight, Milton finally took out his smooth leather wallet to pay for the meal. 
Rebecca noticed that he did not leave a tip on the table, so while he excused himself to go to the men’s room, she swiftly emptied her purse of every coin she had and tossed them onto the table.  It was unthinkable to leave without giving gratuity to the workers
, especially when one was as wealthy
(and rude!)
as Milton Thornbrenner
.

Rebecca allowed Milton to lead her out into the night and escort her to
Kirschstrasse
.
 
When they arrived at her apartment building, Rebecca stopped short at the ground floor entrance, adamant that Milton would not bring her upstairs.

Hastily, she said, “Thank you for dinner.  Do have a good night.”

“When shall I see you again?” Milton prodded, looking at her intently.

“Oh, I cannot say.  My performance schedule permits very little socializing.  Now, if you would excuse me, it is so very late and I must get some sleep.”

Rebecca rushed her words, banking on the likelihood that Milton would not attempt to overstep his boundaries.  Thankfully, she was right, and he retreated, favoring her with a gallant bow that
might
have fooled her before their dinner disaster, but not after.

“Good night, Pamina.  Until we meet again…”
Milton bent to kiss her cheek, strode away, and disappeared into an alleyway like
a
sinister apparition,
leaving Rebecca shuddering.

The sound of her character’s name on his lips was disturbing, and she felt the urge to run upstairs and lock her bedroom door, pulling the blankets up to her chin.
Knowing the walls of the building had poor insulation, Rebecca walked
noiselessly
up the staircase, eager to reach the fifth floor.  On the fourth floor, she
jerked upon
finding Luke
standing at the window
.
He whirled around to face her, his features obliterated in the darkness.

“L-Luke,” She stammered
, disconcerted by his hulking presence in the dusky hallway
.  “What are you doing?”

“Watching that man kiss you.”
He gritted.

“He kissed me on the cheek, Luke!  Besides, why do you suddenly care? 
You
were the one who persuaded me that I should seek a man of a more affluent class.”

Rebecca could not read his expression in the black
ness,
but when he spoke, Lu
ke’s voice articulated a sneer, as he mocked,
“I do not
‘
suddenly care.
’
  You asked me what I was doing, and I merely gave you an answer.”