Eternal Melody (35 page)

In a tense silence, they strolled to the waterfront, where gondoliers were waiting to take couples on a ride around the Grand Canal.  Luke handed one of the gondoliers some folded bills from his pocket and joined Rebecca on the gondola.

The gondola
offered
a panoramic vista of water, architecture, and the city beyond.  Rebecca sat with hands folded in her lap, admiring the kaleidoscope of marble on the
palaces
, some dating from the Byzantine era. 
The gondolier began to serenade them, apparently assuming they were an amorous couple, as Rebecca looked down awkwardly.

“He has a pleasant voice.” She commented innocuously.

“Yes.” Luke agreed tersely.

“This is ridiculous!” Rebecca exploded as the gondolier continued singing, oblivious.  “We’re acting like children when we should be savoring every second of this experience.”

“You’re right
.
”
Luke admitted
sheepishly
.  “How many times in your life have you sailed on a gondola?”

“Zero!  Therefore, I would appreciate if you would be a little more congenial.”

“Only if you will.” He countered.

“Agreed.”

“We wouldn’t be in such irritable temperaments, though, if that fool hadn’t come to the villa.” Luke muttered under his breath, banishing all notions of civility for Rebecca.

Aflame with indignation, she clamped her lips together to keep from uttering foul language she would later want to rescind.  It was Luke who had severed their romantic relationship, nipped
it
in the bud because of some macho notion of wealth as prerequisite
for marriage
. 
Reflecting on this truth, Rebecca co
uld no longer contain herself.

Shouting over the gondolier’s tune, she raved, “You are the reason I ever paid a shred of attention to Milton!  If it weren’t for your insecurities, I would have happily stayed with you!”

Luke regarded her darkly and retorted, “Call it insecurity if you wish.  I merely call it reality. 
My scruples are too keen for me to continue as your l
over, but my finances are too…”

“Yes, yes, you’re broke!  Please spare me, Luke.  I’ve heard it a hundred times before!  But now you’ll be making more money in Venice.  We both will.  Perhaps you just don’t want to marry me and be stuck with the adult responsibility of a wife!  Maybe you’re just an immature boy
who wants to sow his wild oats
!”

“
If that is what you think of me, then you clearly don’t know me at all.”
Luke stated darkly.

“And if you think that I am the type of woman to demand riches from a partner, then you don’t know
me
at all!” Rebecca shot back icily
, as the gondolier finally concluded his song.

For the rest of the ride, neither Luke nor Rebecca spoke, both feeling misunderstood by the other. 
R
ebecca stared out at the water
, thinking how she might dine with Milton again just out of spite.  But her conscience nudged her, insisting that vengeance is never a good reason to do anything.  At the moment, though, she was too incensed to listen to good sense and resolved to poke around the neighborhood with the goal of encountering Milton and
acquiescing to his persistent overtures.

With foolhardy wrath she blurted out, “I suppose I should see Milton again after all.  You’ve been right all along.  He has so much to offer a woman, and I might be very happy with him.”

While Rebecca had spoken the insincere words, Luke’s face had progressively colored to a dark, furious shade of red that communicated how deeply she had wounded him.  As she regarded the tense lines of his brow and mouth, Rebecca knew that she had gone too far and could not retract her sentiments.

Hesitantly, the gondolier asked Luke if he would like another spin around the canal to which he stonily replied, “No.  This is quite enough.  Take us back to land.”

Those were the last words Luke spoke that evening.  When
the gondola floated back to the dock,
the sky had turned cold and onyx.
Luke immediately jumped out, not bothering
to bid Rebecca
good night.

*****

The next morning, Rebecca
sat
with Ryan in the sunlit kitchen,
eating
an eclectic breakf
ast of asparagus and fried eggs.
As the siblings ate in silence,
Mr. Graysen popped his head in to announce that she had a caller.

“He says his name is Milton Thornbrenner.  Shall I ask him to wait for you in the parlor?” Mr. Graysen asked.

“Yes.  Please do.” Rebecca replied.

“Who’s this Thornbrenner fellow?” Ryan asked curiously, taking a knife to the crisp asparagus.

Rebecca was taken aback.  “I never told you?  Oh, no, I suppose I didn’t.  Well, I barely see you these days with our schedules.  Anyway, Milton Thornbrenner is an Englishman whom I dined with just once back in Vienna.  He claims to be my secret admirer.” She rolled her eyes, rising to walk to the parlor and meet him.

“What about Luke?” Ryan asked sadly.

“What about him?  You know the story there!  There is nothing between Luke and me, especially after last night.”

“Why aft
er last night?” Ryan
persisted.

“Ask Luke yourself!  He’s your chum, isn’t he?  Now, I have to go meet Milton and see what he wants.” Rebecca left her brother alone in the kitchen while she trudged over to the parlor where Milton was smoking a pipe.

“
Buona mattina
.” He greeted in horribly accented Italian.

“Good morning to you as well.  To what do I owe the pleasure of your company?” She asked artificially.

“Well, I should say that’s the loveliest greeting you have ever given me.  I see Italy agrees with you.”
He exhaled a circle of putrid smoke before reaching for a bottle of brandy on the bar.

“Isn’t it a little early in the morning for brandy?” Rebecca asked with a furrowed brow.

“Never too early and never too late.  It is always the right time for a few swishes of brandy.  But tell me, how do you find life in the Mediterranean?”

“I just arrived yesterday, so I haven’t seen much yet.  But so far
the country
seems delightful to me.”

Emptying his brandy glass in one swift motion, he poured some more and approached her.  “I’ll take you anywhere you want to go.  Just name it.” Milton spoke in a voice intended to be seductive.  To Rebecca’s sensibilities, it merely sounded lewd.

Rebecca stalled, as Milton pounced.  “I’ll take you to Piazza San Marco.  No one comes to Venice without visiting the Piazza.  Grab your wrap and we’ll be off.” Milton instructed, and Rebecca did not resist.

“Wait here.  I’ll be back in a minute.” She said dully, heading to the kitchen where her sweater was draped over a wooden chair.

Ryan was
scraping the last egg morsels from his plate and looked up in surprise when Rebecca entered the room.  “Did you send him away already?”

“No.  I just came to get my sweater.  He’s taking me to Piazza San Marco today.” She shrugged nonchalantly, hoping to dodge any additional questions from her brother.

“You need to be back by dark, Becky.”

“Pardon me?  I don’t have a curfew.”

Ryan shook his head impatiently.  “Don’t be so testy.  I know you don’t have a curfew.  Tonight at seven o’clock, Mr. Graysen is holding a meeting to discuss our upcoming performances.”

“Oh!” Rebecca brightened with interest.  “Did he mention which opera we’re going to be training for?”

“It’s just a rumor, but I heard that it’s going
to be one of Rossini’s comedies.  We’re set to open
in November and run until two weeks before Christmas.”
Ryan replied in a conspiratorial whisper.

“I hope it’s
The Barber of Seville
!  That would be such great fun. 
Don’t worry,
I’ll be back long before seven.  See you later.” Rebecca glided out of the kitchen and back into the parlor with a genuine smile on her lips.

Milton took one final swig of brandy and smiled broadly at her, assuming that her cheerful disposition was for him
,
although it was in spite of him---and in spite of all men, Rebecca thought.

Chapter Twenty-Four

Evening fell and still Rebecca had not returned from her excursion with Milton.  Ryan sat with Luke in the parlor, drinking double espressos to be alert for what promised to be a lengthy meeting that night.

“Is she really with Thornbrenner?” Luke asked miserably as Ryan quickly nodded. 
“I can’t believe how many times I’ve let that woman slip through my fingers.  It makes me
furious
.”

Ryan looked at his friend sympathetically. 
“I know you care for my sister, Springwell.  I don’t want to be an intermediary, but I do wish there were some way to fix things between you.”

“I think things have been damaged beyond repair at this point.” Luke said quietly, betraying a deep and layered sadness.

“Don’t say that.  I still see hope for the two of you.” Ryan offered.

“Let’s change the subject
.
Do you want some more espresso?”

“No, not unless I want to be awake for the next week straight!” Ryan joked, eliciting a marginal smirk from Luke.

The young men launched into a
livelier
discussion of Italian soccer as a delicate knock sounded at the open door.  “Who’s knocking when it’s open?” Ryan asked comically, instantly sobering when he turned and
beheld the woman standing in the
doorway.

A raven-haired
, hazel-eyed beauty with
long legs and the elegant posture of a flamingo
stood like an angelic apparition in the doorway
.
Ryan
nearly
drop
ped
his espresso cup.  Luke barely looked up from his
cup to glance at the girl, who was still
shyly standing outside the parlor.

With difficulty, Ryan ventured, “Uh…
buona sera
…good evening…is there something I can do for you?”

The beautiful girl, who looked little more than twenty years old, shifted in place on the shiny marble floor and replied in lightly accented English, “Yes sir, I am looking for Christopher Graysen, the conductor.”

Stumbling to his feet and gesturing for the girl to enter, Ryan replied, “I’d be glad to get him for you.  What is your name?”

“Concetta.” The girl answered timidly with a half curtsey.
“Venice is my city, and I hear
that your orchestra is here.  I am a ballet dancer…maybe you need a dancer?”

“Well maybe we do!” Ryan answered heartily.  “I’m Ryan Meadow.  Very pleased to meet you.  Or should I say,
piacere
!”

“
Piacere
.” Concetta shook Ryan’s hand gently and
flushed self-consciously

“I’ll bring you to Mr. Graysen.  I think he’s out on the ver
anda right now.” Ryan offered.
Then, suddenly remembering that Luke was in the room, he tossed a quick goodbye over his shoulder and
led
Concetta onto the veranda.

*****

That evening, Rebecca sauntered into the villa just seconds before the clock struck seven, having been delayed by a very ardent Milton.  She surmised that there must be something different about the Venetian air, as Milton had tried ceaselessly to kiss her and would have gone farther than that had she let him.  Finally, she had told him that she needed to be present for a meeting at the villa and he would have to bring her back immediately. 
Reluctantly, he had deposited her at her new residence, asserting that he would be back the following morning to take her out to a champagne brunch.

Now
Rebecca sat expectantly among her peers, waiting to hear Mr. Graysen’s first announcement since their arrival in Italy.  Gazing across the room she noticed Ryan sitting next to a beautiful young girl.  Luke was on the ot
her side of him, looking gloomy. 
Rebecca reflexively look
ed
away.  Even Gloria and Annabelle were there, and Rebecca gave them a little wave, which the baby returned ecstatically with a coo.

Smiling
directly
at Gloria, Mr. Graysen began to speak.  “Welcome to Venice, everyone!  I am very excited to announce that we will begin work on our next production,
The Barber of Seville
, in just a few days time.  To that end, I would like to introduce the newest member of our team.”

Reveling
in the knowledge that they would be performing one of the most hilarious
and entertaining
operas ever composed, Rebecca beamed, listening excitedly as Mr. Graysen
introduced the
mystery
girl
at Ryan’s side
.  Rebecca learned that Concetta was a classically trained ballet dancer who also sang background vocals.  She would be a member of the chorus, Mr. Graysen announced, as Ryan seemed unreasonably pleased with this news. 
Even at a great distance across the room, it was clear that Ryan was infatuated with the ebony-haired beauty.