Playing by Heart

by Carmela Martino

  Mamma’s long-ago words came to mind. Maria’s destiny will one day rest in your hands, Emilia.

  That day had finally arrived.

  I looked back at the two stone cherubs perched on opposite sides of the fountain. I had to harden my heart if I was to bear what lay ahead. Help me, God.

  Still staring at the cherubs, I said to Adriana, “There is one way to save Maria.”

  “How?”

  “I’ll take her place.”

  “What? You? But what of Bellini? Once Maria weds Lodovico Volpi, your father’s triumph will surely make him more open to your marrying Bellini.”

  “I doubt Father would ever allow me to wed a man without a title.” Adriana opened her mouth to argue, but I raised my hand to silence her. “And even if he did, I could never be happy knowing I’d kept Maria from her calling.” My heavy heart weighed down my chest. I leaned into my little stepmother.

  Adriana put her arm around my shoulders. She asked softly, “You would make such a sacrifice?”

  My breaths grew shallow. It hurt too much to breathe. I nodded.

  “We mustn’t give up all hope just yet.” Adriana gave me a sideways hug. “Your father was quite distraught when I spoke with him. I believe he’s gone to confront Marquis Volpi regarding his son’s scandalous behavior. Perhaps God will provide a solution we haven’t envisioned.”

  I nodded again, not because I agreed, but because I could no longer speak.

  Chapter Thirty-Seven: Two Squirrels

  I dragged myself to the harpsichord salon and sat staring at the keyboard for the longest time. My mind couldn’t accept what my heart knew: I had no real choice. I was like one of Vincenzo’s puppets.

  I thought of the puppet show we’d seen in Masciago. The tale of Filadora and the Prince had dramatized the old adage “Love conquers all.”

  But the adage was a lie.

  My anger made me sit up straighter. The day after tomorrow, at Father’s meeting, would be my last chance to show Antonio Bellini how I felt. Once his intention to refuse the marquis’s title became known, Father would never welcome him in our home again. I resolved to make the performance my best ever.

  ***

  I’d just finished working through my entire program when I looked up to see Adriana in the doorway. Reading her expression, I knew immediately she had bad news. I waved her over. “Come, tell me what you’ve learned.”

  Adriana shut the door, then stood beside the harpsichord. “Your father has returned,” she said. “I was right. He did call on Marquis Volpi.” My normally energetic stepmother spoke slowly, as though tired. She rested her arms on the harpsichord frame. “Your father said the marquis acknowledged his son’s gambling debts. However, Marquis Volpi claimed to know nothing of Lord Lodovico’s other transgressions.”

  “Did Father believe him?”

  “The marquis was very convincing,” Adriana said. “He called his son into the room and interrogated him in your father’s presence. Lord Lodovico confessed all in rather dramatic fashion. He fell to his knees and begged his father’s forgiveness. He vowed to denounce his former habits and live up to the responsibilities of his position.”

  “Hah,” I said. “And did the marquis forgive him?”

  “Of course. Well, at least in front of your father. Marquis Volpi is a shrewd man. He knows Lord Lodovico’s actions could impact his eligibility to marry a noblewoman. The marquis assured your father that since his son has seen the error of his ways, he is still a worthy suitor.”

  “What did Father say?”

  “Only that he needed to consider the matter further.” Adriana rubbed her hands along the top of the harpsichord frame. “He obviously relishes having an advantage over the Volpis. Your father is shrewd, too. The situation will allow him to negotiate a smaller dowry.”

  “It will also allow Father more freedom in choosing which daughter he’ll betroth to Lord Lodovico.”

  “My thought precisely. So I said to your father, ‘There’s no need to betroth your eldest daughter to Lord Lodovico now. Why not allow Maria to follow her calling to take the veil and betroth her younger sister to Lord Lodovico?’” Adriana paused, then added, “Your father still anticipates your betrothal to Bellini, and thus assumed I was speaking of Isabella.”

  I rose and stood beside Adriana. “What was Father’s response?”

  “He was quiet for so long I feared he would yet insist upon Maria marrying Lord Lodovico. When your father finally spoke, it was as though he was thinking out loud. He said, ‘I suppose Maria could put her learning to good use in a convent. She would make an excellent Mother Superior. I will wait until after Emilia is betrothed to Bellini to begin negotiations with Volpi. With my two eldest daughters situated, Marquis Volpi will have no choice but to match his son with the third and least accomplished. That should take the high and mighty marquis down a peg.’”

  “Father knows nothing of Bellini refusing his great-uncle’s title, then?”

  “Since it would be improper to disinvite Antonio Bellini and his father at this late date, I thought it best not to say anything until after Friday’s meeting.”

  “Good.” I fought to sound calm. Meanwhile, puppet strings wrapped themselves around my heart. “And you’re certain Father won’t enter into a marriage contract with Marquis Volpi before you’re able to explain everything?”

  “Quite certain,” Adriana said. “Your father plans, as he put it, ‘to let Volpi and his son dangle on the hook awhile before reeling them in.’”

  The strings around my heart tightened.

  Adriana must have sensed my feelings, for she placed a hand on mine. “Your mother would be proud of you.”

  I glanced over at the painting of the cerulean Madonna. I hope you’re watching, Mamma.

  ***

  That night, after Maria went to bed, I stayed up writing the letter I’d promised Gabriella. I told her of all Adriana had learned and of my decision to take Maria’s place. I let my tears flow, though I was careful to keep them from falling onto the page. Better to let them out now than during my performance tomorrow.

  But even as I folded the letter and pressed my monogram into the wax seal, my mind searched for some other remedy for the situation. I thought of what Adriana had said in the garden: Perhaps God will provide a solution we haven’t envisioned. I looked up at the crucifix hanging above my dressing table, barely visible in the shadows of the flickering candelabrum. Despite knowing it would take a miracle, I prayed, “Please, Lord, let there be some other way.”

  I woke early the next morning, my eyes burning from all my tears. I wet a cloth at the basin and pressed it to my face. As the coolness seeped into my skin, I heard the mournful cooing of doves coming from outside, followed by skittering sounds.

  I went to the window. A flash of red in the courtyard below caught my eye—two young squirrels were chasing each other. From their playfulness, I guessed they were siblings. The first one, which was a darker shade of red than his brother, jumped onto a small cypress tree. The second scurried after. I lost sight of them among the branches. Then the darker squirrel suddenly emerged at the top of the tree. He chirped down as if to say to his sibling, “Hah, see! I’m faster and smarter than you.”

  The lighter squirrel seemed unperturbed. He scurried back to the ground and scampered away. Still perched atop the cypress, his brother stared down, apparently surprised by the abrupt end to their competition. He cried out in frustration, screech, screech, screech.

  The cry must have woken Maria, for she stirred then. The morning light filtering through the window gave Maria’s face a gentle glow. For the moment, there was no sign of the sickly pallor that had come over her the last few weeks.

  As Maria rubbed the sleep from her eyes, I thought of easing her mind by telling her I planned to wed Lord Lodovico in her place. But I held my tongue. She might try to interfere to spare my sacrifice.

  Maria stretched her arms and smiled. “Oh, Emmi,” she said, “I just had the most wond
erful vision. Mamma was here, in our room.” She glanced around as though expecting to see our mother.

  My mouth went dry. “I’m the only one here, Maria.” My words came out in a whisper.

  She sat up. “I tell you, Emmi, Mamma was here, standing beside the bed.” Maria gestured to her right. “She caressed my cheek and said, ‘My dear Maria, I’ve come to tell you that God has heard your prayers. Tonight will be your last performance. Soon, you will be following your true calling.’”

  How uncanny, I thought. If all went as planned, tonight would indeed be Maria’s last performance. “What a lovely dream.”

  “Wait, there’s more.” Maria came to stand before me. “Mamma had a message for you, too. She said, ‘Tell Emilia God has also heard her prayers. All will be well for both of you.”

  “It was only a dream, Maria.” I turned to the window again, shutting my eyes against my tears.

  “No, I tell you. It was real.”

  I sighed. There was no point in arguing. The future would soon reveal itself.

  Chapter Thirty-Eight: Final Meeting

  That evening, Maria, Isabella, and I stood beside Father and Adriana greeting our guests in the recently refurnished harpsichord salon. Antonio Bellini and his father were among the first to arrive. Benedetto Bellini bowed to Father and said, “I am most honored to be invited to your meeting, Lord Salvini.”

  “We are most happy to have you here.” Father’s eyes scanned Signor Bellini from head to foot. Bellini’s suit was not of the finest fabric, but his posture was proud and noble enough. Father said to him, “Allow me to present my wife.”

  Signor Bellini bowed again. “A pleasure to meet you, Lady Salvini.”

  “The pleasure is mine,” Adriana replied.

  As Father continued the introductions, I held my breath. I feared that when Father got to me, he’d say something about betrothing me to Antonio Bellini. Heaven intervened, though, for just as Father said my name, Governor von Traun arrived. Father’s face lit up at the sight of the governor. It was his first visit to our palazzo.

  “Excuse me,” Father said. “I must welcome Governor von Traun.”

  “Of course,” Signor Bellini said. Then he said to me, “We meet at last, Lady Emilia. I have heard a great deal about you from Antonio. My son has much praise for your musical talents.” Signor Bellini’s eyes were the same azure blue as his son’s, but I saw a profound sadness in them.

  “Grazie,” I said with a curtsy. “But I fear your son exaggerates.” I glanced at Antonio. His eyes bore sadness, too, but also a hint of hope. He didn’t know yet of my decision to take Maria’s place.

  “Buonasera, Lady Emilia.” Antonio looked down at his hands. As he clasped and unclasped them, I thought of the string game and how he’d ensnared my wrist in his loop of twine. Just before tonight’s meeting, I’d slipped the flax-colored twine into my pocket. I intended to return it to him before the night was over.

  “Good evening,” I replied. Before I could think of something more to say, Father called us over to greet the governor.

  By the time Marquis Volpi and his son arrived, Maria had already left to prepare for her presentation. The marquis approached slowly, leaning heavily on his walking stick. He seemed to have aged greatly since I’d last seen him, no doubt due, at least in part, to the embarrassment caused by his son. Lord Lodovico, on the other hand, walked with his usual proud stride.

  Father stood tall as he exchanged greetings with Marquis Volpi and presented us all to him. The marquis was polite but brief. He soon hobbled away.

  Lord Lodovico, however, lingered. He said to Adriana, “You are especially lovely this evening, Lady Salvini.”

  “You are too kind, Lord Lodovico.” Her voice had an icy edge that contrasted sharply with her words, but Lord Lodovico didn’t seem to notice.

  He turned to me and said, “And who is this enchanting young woman?”

  “Why, Lord Lodovico,” Adriana said, “have you forgotten our Emilia? I believe you’ve heard her perform several times.”

  “Forgive me, Lady Emilia,” he said with a bow. “You have changed much since our last meeting.” He smiled and added, “in ways I find quite becoming.” The curl of his smile and tilt of his head reminded me of the long-ago conversation I’d had with Gabriella regarding the signs of flirtation. No doubt Volpi’s pretend memory lapse was part of an act to charm me.

  I swallowed back the bile rising in my throat. For Maria’s sake, I had to join in the playacting. I fluttered my fan in front of my face. “I believe you’re trying to make me blush, Sir.”

  “Not at all,” Lord Lodovico said. “I speak only the truth.”

  Adriana then gestured to Isabella. “And this is our third daughter, Isabella.”

  “My heavens,” Lord Lodovico exclaimed. “How can so much beauty exist in one family?” He bowed to Isabella. “A pleasure and honor, Lady Isabella.”

  Isabella tilted her head and said coyly, “So you have forgotten that we have met before, too, Lord Lodovico?”

  “I beg your pardon, my lady.” He stroked the black beauty patch on his left cheek. “I must have been so intoxicated by your loveliness that the memory of our meeting was wiped away.”

  Isabella laughed. “You do have a way with words, Lord Lodovico.”

  I hadn’t told Isabella yet that I would be the one to wed Volpi and not her. No matter. She’d learn of it soon enough. And now that Father planned to let Maria become a nun, Isabella could be betrothed to some other nobleman. Perhaps she’d be lucky enough to marry someone she could be happy with, as Gabriella had.

  I glanced over at Count Cavalieri. His face beamed as it had on his wedding day. He’d already reassured me that Gabriella was doing well and couldn’t wait to introduce me to their new son.

  ***

  Maria’s talk for this, her final meeting, would be different from all the others. Instead of discussing new theories, she would present a summary of the booklet she’d dedicated to Archduchess Maria Teresa. Father had planned tonight’s meeting to demonstrate that my sister, who was nearly seventeen now, had completed her studies. Thanks to Adriana, the next step in Maria’s life would be to take the veil and not Lord Lodovico’s hand.

  Father announced the news as part of his introduction to Maria’s talk. He must have told Maria first, though, for her face was aglow even before he began to speak. It soothed my heart to see her so happy.

  As Maria reaffirmed the notion that women could and should be educated, I scanned the room. I spotted Antonio Bellini seated in the front row, his back to me. I planned to speak to him right after my performance. My head grew heavy at the thought of telling him of my impending betrothal to Lord Lodovico. But Bellini deserved to hear the news directly from me.

  I looked away and my eyes fell on Lord Lodovico and his father. While Marquis Volpi sat perfectly still, transfixed by Maria, Lord Lodovico fidgeted incessantly. He raised his handkerchief to his mouth to hide a large yawn, then glanced about. His gaze caught mine before I could avert my eyes. Lord Lodovico smiled. If I hadn’t known of his exploits in Austria, I might have been flattered. Instead, my stomach sickened at the thought of marrying such a scoundrel. Yet I managed to make myself smile sweetly just the same.

  Maria came to the end of her talk. Everyone rose to their feet and applauded enthusiastically, especially the governor. When the applause died down, Governor von Traun signaled Maria toward him. I watched as he spoke to her, no doubt complimenting both the content of her speech and her eloquence.

  In that moment, I realized that the envy that had smoldered in my heart all these years had finally died out. I was filled with only pride for my sister, as on the day of her first public speech. Maria had followed in the footsteps of Lady Elena Cornaro, one of the learned women she’d praised that day. Like Cornaro, my sister had mastered seven languages and studied philosophy, mathematics, and astronomy.

  Maria’s intelligence had won her renown throughout the Duchy and beyond. Yet she’d remai
ned incredibly humble through it all. And now she was giving up everything—marriage, wealth, acclaim—to serve the filthy beggars who lined the streets of the city. My own sacrifice seemed paltry in comparison.

  Chapter Thirty-Nine: Farewell

  After a break for refreshments, it was my turn to perform. Antonio Bellini again seated himself in the front row, with his father beside him.

  The guests grew silent as I took my place at the harpsichord. I adjusted my skirts, drew back my shoulders, and began. I went through a repertoire of my best sonatas and songs, playing with such enthusiasm that perspiration soon trickled down my spine. I cared not. I was determined to express myself as fully as I could, through both the words and music. The audience applauded warmly following each piece. That mattered not either. Today I played for an audience of one.

  Finally, I came to my last piece—the lullaby the archduchess had liked so well, my love song to Antonio Bellini. He’d heard me play it at Gabriella’s, but tonight I wanted him to really feel the music, to be touched by the emotions that had inspired it.

  I took a deep breath. I would need to keep tight rein on those emotions to sing without faltering.

  I played the prelude molto teneramente, as tenderly as I could. Then I began:

  “I am so blessed to have you as my own,

  my precious, precious one.

  I will love you my whole life long …

  As I sang, I recalled telling Bellini I’d written the lullaby for the archduchess. He knew not that I’d originally composed it for him.

  I glanced up and found him in the audience. His eyes met mine. The rest of the room fell away.

  No matter what pain or hardship life may bring