Nightingale (31 page)

Max closed his eyes, the more perfectly to listen. Whatever else he was, tormenter and jailor, teacher and seducer, he was also, first and foremost, an admirer. Seeing him worshipping always made her feel weak.

The warm stretch of her throat, the supple purity of the sound from the very first note, brought Klara true physical pleasure. With her voice she would defend herself from her rival, this singer she had once looked up to, whose singing had been a joy and standard. As Klara's voice rose, she felt a surge of power. In song she would confront and vanquish them all.

Oh, God! Had Almassy slept with this woman? Had he been her lover before, in Komaron?

"Do you need to try through it, Concertmaster?"

"He's played the piece often
," Madame winked.

"Great skill in the hands, these keyboard men."

Wranitzsky turned toward the Count and laughed. Almassy’s eyes flashed anger, but his face, Klara noted, turned red.

"Sir!" He pushed his chair back and got to his feet.

As he swung about, ready to confront them, Klara stepped forward and slapped him hard across the face. Then, picking up her heavy skirts, she fled.

Chapter
18

"Fraulein Silber! Wait. I must speak to you."

"Those two smug monsters! I loathe them! And, as for you! You, sir, are beneath contempt!"

Max's coachmen grinned and bowed low, but Klara, wrapped in the dove gray cloak, skirts in hand, went striding away down the street.

"What, in God's name, are you thinking?"

"Go away. You lied to me, sir."

"Do you think I'm Wrantizsky's lover? Can't you see that's exactly what they wanted you to think?"

White faced, Klara spun to face him. "But you were her lover once, weren't you?"

"Yes, fool that I was."

"God! How could you bring yourself to touch that – that
Medusa?"

"They insulted both of us, Klara."

"How did they insult you? It is all true, isn't it?"

"Klara!" Almassy took her arm and spun her around. "Please listen."

"Don’t touch me! It always comes down to tricks of one kind or another with men, doesn't it?"

"Klara, please listen.” He kept pace beside her as she rushed over the cobbles. “When I was younger, she visited Prince Vehnsky and I accompanied her. Just because it was an older woman and a younger man, don't pretend you have no notion of how it might have happened."

"You are going to tell me she seduced you."

"She did. After she left the Elector, she indulged herself with several younger men, and I was one of them."

"
Grosse Gott!
"

"Is it more horrible than you and Max?"

"Yes! No! What's horrible is that there we were, the four of us in one room, all with such – knowledge! Like … like incest!"

He reached to touch her, but she jerked her arm away.

"You've had plenty of time to tell me. Why didn't you?"

"It was wrong, Klara, but there is nothing to say about Madame Wranitzsky and I that is in the present tense. I was the one to break it off and when I did, she swore I’d be sorry. She and the Count are quite a pair."

Klara, who had been walking fast and paying less and less attention to anything but boiling emotion, certainly not to the pavement beneath her heeled feet, marched across a narrow side street. Here she encountered a patch of broken pavement and ice, slipped, and nearly fell.

"Ow!" Her fall carried her against Akos, who caught her. "Oh, God! Ow!" Pain shot through her, infuriating, sharp. She took another step and nearly fell again.

"Here." Akos firmly caught her at the waist. "Let's sit for a moment."

Feeling as if she would faint, first from rage and now from pain, there was nothing to do but accept. Arm around her, he guided her in at a door where a sign picturing a Moor's head swung in the chilly wind. This was an apothecary's shop, and, as usual, there were several chairs by the door. Two servants were already seated, chatting and waiting for prescriptions. Behind the counter, a gray-haired couple worked, the woman measuring dried herbs into a cone of brown paper, the man using a pestle to grind something.

"This lady has turned her ankle,” Almassy said. “May we rest until she recovers?"

"Do you need salts, Madame?" The old man, noting their fine clothes, came at once around the counter.

"No, but the pain is bad," Klara sniffled. She was dangerously close to weeping.

"Take your lady into the parlor. My wife will brew something for her."

In a moment they were seated in the dim room which lay behind a curtain. The only light from outside came through the opening into the apothecary's shop, so a candle had been lit. There was a stove, so it was warm enough, there in the windowless gut of the building.

"We'll bring something for you in a minute, my lady.”

"Thank you for your help, Madame Apothecary. Now, dear Klara, let me look." Almassy knelt before her. Klara sat still, allowed him to put his hands beneath her skirt, to take her ankle between his hands.

"How does this feel?” His fingers probed.

"Stop!" She felt herself turn white.

"I'll get some ice water from the barrel outside. It's the best we can do."

As he got up, Klara burst into tears.

"Ah, Klara!" He returned to the bench, sat and then drew her close.

Oh, what a welcome refuge, this coming home to the warm, manly scent of him, to hear his heart beating close to her!

"When I heard you sing last winter, I fell in love like a star-struck boy. I had no hope of winning you, but, somehow, everything in the world looked different to me. When I returned to Prague, Madame Wranitzsky summoned me as usual. I played for her, but told her there could be nothing more. I felt shame for what I’d done, because I’d never truly loved her. I told her honestly that while I would always revere her talent, anything else was no longer possible. She's not likely to forgive that, and perhaps she should not, for though she did offer, I was villain enough to take."

Truth and guilt, both naked, appeared in his eyes.

"Oh, dear Akos! If only I could have been stronger, prouder, sung the aria. If only I weren't so ready to doubt you, so terribly afraid."

"The Count is a genuine threat."

"I am afraid of myself, too, my darling. I thought I knew about life, but it seems that I know nothing. And, oh, I have again put you in such danger, such danger!”

"Never mind." He stroked her cheek. "Things would have come to a head sooner or later."

Beyond the curtain, they heard voices and the sound of the door closing as the last customers went out. Klara leaned against him, her cheek upon his black waistcoat, the servant’s livery he wore. He stroked her and whispered, "We must go to Prince Vehnsky, and ask for his protection."

Chapter 19

The old Prince stared at them for a long cold moment. He frowned and slowly shook his large head.

"This is a most unpleasant business, Almassy, and come, as I'm sure you know, at a most awkward juncture."

"We are two musicians who serve different masters, but who wish to take the honorable course and be married, sir. It might be as simple as that."

"And you know it is not, young man! Many have warned me the day would come when the indulgence I have shown you, that willfulness bred in the bone, would discommode me."

"My lord, you had me educated as a gentleman. Allow me the respect I have learned to have for myself. I have come for your permission to marry, as it is my duty to do, both as your servant and in that other relationship we share.""

"Well," the old man sighed, gazing at the erect young man who faced him. "I must think. Right now, as you know, I have company. Young Herr Mozart is waiting upon me, as are my guests. Fraulein Silber, my dear, are you in pain?"

"I fear we have caused you enough trouble, sir, without
….”

"I shall have something sent to you. May I suggest that you rest upon the divan in the next room?” The prince picked up a bell on the table beside him and rang it to summon a servant. "Tell Vastag what you need, Almassy, and he will fetch it for you. I must go to my guests now, but when I return, we shall discuss this further."

***

"Oh, God!" Klara shuddered as Almassy helped her to the divan. "The Prince will not help us."

"Don't fret until we hear what he says. My grandfather never makes any decision quickly, or under pressure."

"I have been so busy feeling sorry for myself, thinking of how I was betrayed by Giovanni. I believed Max, who said that I had been deceived, that Giovanni was an opportunist, not a true lover. But now I see how selfish it was to ask that loving me be everything. How could I play the victim while faulting Giovanni for wanting his art, his life, more than me? I'm the one who failed the test of love! I should have pardoned, not judged him! And now it is my selfishness which has betrayed us. I could not see anything there in that woman’s parlor, nothing but that you had slept with her. I believed you had taken me lightly, even more lightly than Giovanni had. And Max! Max knew exactly what I would do!"

"Hush, angel. Why shouldn't loving you be everything? It's all I want to do, now, or ever. Oh, don't cry, my Klara! Love shall conquer All, I know it."

They embraced, there in the dim room. Nearby, they could hear a swell of voices, the Prince’s guests. Slowly, Klara grew calmer, here in the strong arms of her love. Soon, a clavier began to play, a song that danced and rippled like a bright wind across the serene face of a summer lake.

"Mozart!" In spite of their fear, they began to listen, arms around each other. The opening allegro was so filled with joy that they began to feel hope in spite of themselves. Almassy’s hand gently traced the outline of Klara's cheek, while they gazed into each other's eyes.

As long as the music lasted, they were suspended, out of time. Then, in the polite patter of applause which followed, the magical moment ended.

"If Orpheus himself played in their midst, would they recognize him?”

Klara leaned back against him. "It sounded,” she said, “as if heaven and earth were kissing."

"That boy makes me so jealous. I strive to compose … I sweat and slave over every note, while you and I both know that Mozart probably tossed this piece off in the last few days after he received the Prince’s invitation. I’m afraid I shall never be more than Concertmaster, Klara."

"You are far more than that, dear Almassy," she whispered. "So many more things than I ever imagined one man could be.”

***

"Well, young sir," said the Prince, “come and tell me more about this business."

At long last, the afternoon party over. Now only the Prince and Akos remained. Klara had been kept in the other room, where she was now attended by one of the housemaids.

"Perhaps I shouldn't have listened to young Herr Mozart's music." Vehnsky allowed himself a guarded smile. "I feel in a rather softer mood than when I left you."

"Then I am glad that you did, honored sir."

"The problem is, as you very well know, that Count von Oettingen is a powerful and influential man,
one whom I often find myself aligned against. Now, when the old empress is resigning so much business to the Crown Prince, things at court are in a fluid state. What is good policy to the Habsburgs may not always seem so to those of us who hold the eastern border."

"But surely, sir, this is simply a matter…
."

"Not simple at all, young man!” The Prince regarded his grandson sternly. “However, I am somewhat inclined to support your view. Still, let me ask you a question. That Fraulein Silber has a glorious voice and is a lovely young woman is not in dispute. However, her parentage is a mystery."

"You mean that because she came from a nightingale cage she is probably illegitimate. What of it?"

"I mean that you are who you are, young man! There are wider possibilities for you than you might imagine. For instance, Widow von Kemeny has made it clear that
….” Vehnsky let his voice trail away.

"I have no wish, sir, to marry for position or money."

"I could command you to do as I say."

"With respect, sir, I don't believe you would."

"And why not?"

"Because it would mean that you would openly acknowledge who I am."

"Don't be impudent, young man! You have been treated well, and with affection."

"Yes, sir, you have always been most kind and generous, but is it always impudent to speak the truth?"

"You are my blood, Akos Almassy. Must I consent to a union with a young woman who has lost her honor?"

"She has had it stolen from her, sir. I wish to return it." It wasn't easy for Akos to contain his temper, but he knew he must.