The Musician's Daughter

by Susanne Dunlap

  “Du bist sehr schön. Your papa would be so proud!” she said, although I knew he cared little for the fripperies and refinements of ladies. In fact, I thought he might rather have been disappointed to see me got up like that. For one moment I imagined flinging my arms around and tossing my head just as Maya had done during her dance in the Gypsy camp, and all the bits of horse hair flying out in every direction, powder dousing those nearest to me. I had to bite my lip to keep from laughing.

  I soon contained myself, however. I hoped that the evening would prove to offer only dancing and gaiety, that my uncle would be too busy with his friends to bother about me, and that what ever Zoltán wished to accomplish would occur without fanfare or difficulty. I hoped.

  Everything started off well when the valet informed me that my uncle had been called to an emergency council session and would meet me at the ball. “Your gown has arrived, and the carriage will be called to take you to the assembly rooms at nine of the clock,” he informed me, then snapped his fingers at the snobbish maid who had treated me so disdainfully the first two times I visited my uncle’s house. “Hildegard will do for you.”

  So, her name was Hildegard. I was secretly delighted that she was now called upon to help me dress, although I restrained myself from saying anything unkind to her.

  She, on the other hand, expressed her annoyance in a thousand little ways, the most irritating of which was yanking so hard on the laces of my stays that I thought she would squeeze the breath out of me.

  “Is that quite necessary?” I gasped.

  “The councilor said to do my best with you,” she said, giving another fierce tug. “And that will take some effort.”

  I was relieved when the doorbell jangled somewhere deep in the house and she let go of my laces. “Now who could that be?” Hildegard muttered. “I’d better see.”

  She left me standing in the middle of the room in front of a large cheval glass. My face was red and my head had already started to pound. I reached behind and tried to loosen my laces but I couldn’t manage it.

  A few moments later I heard excited chatter approach from the vestibule, make its way up the stairs, and crescendo toward my room. Hildegard sounded flustered. “Herr Wolkenstein said nothing about a maid! I’m sure I’m not to let you in.”

  “Ach, Gott im Himmel, he must simply have forgotten. I always attend Mademoiselle Schurman when she steps out.”

  Mirela! How on earth had she discovered where I was, and what had made her come? I prepared myself for the unlikely sight of the wild Gypsy girl in my uncle’s sedate house, but when the door flew open, I had another surprise. Instead of her bright costume and the rings in her ears, Mirela wore a plain black dress with a simple cape and bonnet over it.

  “Why didn’t you say you had a maid coming?” Hildegard snapped at me.

  “I... I... sent her on an errand and wasn’t certain she would complete it before I needed her,” I answered, doing my best to recover from my own shock. “Mirela can take over now. You are dismissed.” I lifted my nose into the air and flicked my hand at Hildegard. I knew it was very rude of me, but I couldn’t help feeling a small glow of pleasure as she sulked off.

  “Please, can you loosen my stays,” I begged Mirela as soon as the door shut behind Hildegard.

  She got right to work, and in a few moments I could breathe easily again. While she continued to help me into my elaborate dress, Mirela whispered into my ear, “I’m sorry, Rezia, to surprise you like this. But Danior spoke to Zoltán, and—I don’t really know how to make it right, but you see, I thought...”

  She stopped speaking. I looked at her face in the mirror. She had gone red, and there was such a tightening around the corners of her mouth that for a moment I thought she might be about to cry. She finished lacing up the dress in the back, then put her hand in her pocket and drew out a brightly colored handkerchief, covered in patterns that resembled those on the rugs in Maya’s hut. Without looking at me, she held it out in my direction. Was she giving me a gift? I already had a lace-edged Handtaschen to take with me to the ball.

  I didn’t understand her action until I realized that the kerchief was only a covering for something else: my gold medallion—well, the medallion my father had been wearing, at least. “Did you—,” I began.

  She put her finger to my lips. “I do not have time to explain now. You mustn’t be cross. But Danior says you are to wear it this evening.”

  I was too surprised to be angry, and glad to have the medallion back. “Will you come with me to the ball?” I asked.

  She smiled. “No, I must go back to the camp. Maids like me are not welcome at an assembly ball!” She stepped back, cocked her head to one side, and surveyed me from head to foot. “You look beautiful! Such a lady.”

  Her compliment made me glow from the inside. I don’t quite know why, but I wanted to embrace Mirela, to hold her close to me like a sister. Her theft of the medallion seemed suddenly not to matter. Although I knew next to nothing about this Gypsy girl, I felt a kinship with her that I had never felt for another friend before, not even Toby. But there wasn’t time to think about it much. I simply smiled as she dipped a quick curtsy to me and opened the door so that I could pass through. I held my head high and maneuvered my voluminous skirts out into the hallway and down the stairs.

  Toby was showing signs of boredom as he waited for me by the door, picking at a thread that dangled from the ruffle of his shirtsleeve. My little brother appeared very handsome in Prince Nicholas’s livery—handsome, but small, I thought. One of the steps creaked as I descended, and he quickly jumped up from his seat and put his hands behind his back, as I had taught him on the way over. I think my appearance was so altered that he was struck dumb. It seemed likely his jaw would drop all the way to the floor. “Bei alle Engeln!” he said. I didn’t know whether he was merely surprised or meant to compare me with an angel. I laughed.

  Mirela saw us into the carriage, then stood and waved as we drew away from my uncle’s door. I regretted that she would not be with us, and felt distinctly more anxious about the coming evening without her.

  The carriage had an elegant, wooden body suspended on springs attached to large, delicate wheels. Inside, the walls were lined with satin, and we sat upon velvet cushions. Four beautiful bay horses pulled us along the icy streets, a liveried coachman drove, and two footmen stood on platforms at the back holding torches up high. A postilion sat on one of the horses at the front, calling out, “Make way for Councilor Wolkenstein’s carriage!” I could not resist looking out to see the common folk—people no lower in status than we were—staring at us as we passed.

  I could have ridden around Vienna all evening and enjoyed myself quite well, but we had only a short distance to go before arriving at the public assembly rooms. They were in a large, modern building behind the ancient Rathaus, the place where all the business of the city was transacted—licenses issued, criminals charged, heroes honored. We had to wait in a line of carriages before it was our turn to descend, but even before we turned the corner, I could see the glow from the assembly rooms’ brightly lit windows. As we approached the entrance, the footmen hopped off their perches. One of them opened the carriage door while the other helped me climb down the steps. I had told Toby his job was to keep my train from trailing in the snow—which had now turned to mud and manure because of all the horse and carriage traffic that had preceded us.

  Even though I felt as elegant as the most distinguished woman I had ever seen, I realized as soon as we entered the main ballroom that compared with the truly wealthy, I still appeared humble. I wore no diamonds in my hair or around my neck, buckled to my waist or wrapped around my wrist. Nonetheless, many heads turned to look at me when my name was announced despite the fact that all I had on in the way of jewelry was the gold medallion, which hung right at the level of my breasts and drew many eyes directly to that part of my body. I quickly tucked it inside my bodice.

  To my dismay, as soon as I took a step forward my
uncle rushed up to me and claimed my arm.

  “You look very pretty,” he whispered, smiling and nodding to his acquaintances as we passed. Toby had let go of my train. I looked back and saw him being ushered over to the side by a footman to stand in a group with the other pages. At least there were some boys his age present. Perhaps the evening would not be too dull for him.

  “I am sorry I could not have escorted you here myself,” my uncle said. “Some—developments, you know.”

  My uncle cut quite a different figure from the one I had met previously at his ease in his everyday garb. I wondered where he had gone to change into his purple satin evening coat, gold waistcoat, black breeches, and red high-heeled shoes with gold buckles. There was so much lace clustered at his throat that as he walked it caught a slight breeze and flipped up into his face. He blew it down quickly each time, but our step poof step poof progress struck me as so funny I could hardly contain my laughter.

  I soon realized that we were aiming toward a group of old men standing off to the side. As we approached, I noted several diamond and emerald rings on their fingers, and one or two wore military medals and ribbons on their breasts. “Gentlemen, my niece, Fräulein Theresa Maria Schurman,” my uncle said when we reached them. I curtsied low. Whoever they were, there was no question in my mind that they were all either noble or at least wealthy, and so required the deepest reverence. When I rose from my curtsy, I could not help noticing the expressions in their eyes, which were variations of the hungry look my uncle had when he watched me at the dressmaker’s.

  “Might I request the pleasure of the first dance with your niece?” said the one who looked the oldest and most decrepit.

  “Of course, General Steinhammer,” my uncle said, his smile stretching and pushing the folds of fat on his cheeks to the edges of his face. He didn’t give me a chance to answer for myself.

  But as the general reached for my hand, I felt a gentle touch on my shoulder.

  “Ah, there you are my dearest!”

  Everyone, including my uncle, bowed deeply to the lady whom I knew before I saw her would be Alida Varga. I turned and flooded her with a grateful look. She linked her arm in mine. “I know you will forgive me, gentlemen, but I wish to present my cousin to Her Highness the Archduchess.”

  Six pairs of astounded eyes shifted back and forth between Alida and myself. We looked nothing at all alike—she had golden-blond hair, round blue eyes, and clear, even skin with a warm glow, whereas I had light-brown hair and gray eyes that drew to points at their outsides, and I tended to freckle—making her claim to kinship rather unbelievable. I curtsied to the gentlemen and let her lead me away, knowing that my uncle would be utterly furious with me, and rapidly trying to figure out how I would avoid him for the remainder of the evening.

  We took a leisurely stroll around the room. Alida’s pleasant expression never varied. It seemed that every other person nodded or bowed to her as we passed. One or two elderly ladies stopped her and asked to be presented to me. She made the introductions with no excuses for my humble name, and we continued until we came quite close to the orchestra, which was arranged on a dais at one end of the ballroom. I noticed Zoltán, of course, who followed us with his eyes as we passed by.

  “There is a certain plan for the evening,” Alida said. “And we would very much like your help in executing it. I was meant to complete the task, but I would have put myself at great risk of discovery and jeopardized everything we have been working toward. And so now I shall ask you.”

  I was conscious of the light pressure of her skin against my arm.

  “The general you were about to dance with was responsible for a terrible massacre near our estate in Hungary about five years ago,” Alida continued, still smiling sweetly. “We believe he is one of the people named in the report your father was carrying the night he was killed.”

  I began to tremble. Somehow, until that moment, everything had seemed very remote and unreal. How could bits of paper, and secrets about people far from our cozy apartment in Vienna, have anything at all to do with me? Yet it was these bits of paper that had led my father to risk so much. And it was this general who had almost touched my hand who might have been involved in his murder.

  Alida took two glasses of wine from a footman’s tray and gave one to me. “You must be strong. You look beautiful. To night, if you are willing, you will learn how to use that beauty without giving up your virtue.” She steered me casually into an empty anteroom. “Let me fix your train, my dear,” she said loudly so that anyone nearby would assume that was our reason for entering the deserted space.

  Alida leaned in close and whispered instructions to me, at the same time tucking a small, folded piece of paper into the top of my bodice, where it caught on the medallion and chain. I intervened, pulling out the medallion so that I could better hide the note.

  “Ah, so you found the pendant,” Alida said, taking the medallion in her fingers and turning it over.

  “Yes. It was the most extraordinary thing,” I began to explain to her, but she put her finger to her lips.

  “You may tell me later. After I finish explaining what you are to do, you will return to the ballroom and let the general claim you for his partner. Wait until the musicians perform the Ländler. He will hold you close for part of the dance and you should lean forward—so.” She demonstrated a coquettish pose that allowed me to see into the top of her gown so that I blushed beneath my rouge. “Then let the general know you have something important to show him.”

  “What do I do then?” I noticed that she hadn’t really given me an opportunity to refuse, but I wouldn’t have anyway. I was too much under her spell.

  “Lead him off the dance floor to this room.”

  “Suppose he does not follow me?”

  Alida smiled. “I have no doubt that he will do precisely as you wish.”

  “And once I am here? What then?”

  She was about to tell me, but the sound of laughter approached, and a young girl with a rather drunk-looking gentleman following her slipped into the room. “Oh! I do beg your pardon,” she said.

  “We were just leaving.” Alida turned to me. “There, you are all fixed. Shall we return to the dance?”

  CHAPTER 17

  When we emerged from the anteroom, the ballroom was much more crowded than it had been before. Now it was difficult to get from one place to another, and Alida had to let go of my arm just to avoid bumping into people. Every other word I heard was “Pardon,” or “Entschuldigen-Sie.” Soon I lost sight of Alida completely. I remembered to hide the medallion away again. The attention it seemed to receive when it was in view made me even more uncomfortable than the stares that followed me. I did my best to appear as if such public gatherings were as natural to me as breathing, and listened to the music to calm myself. The small orchestra—more a band, really—was playing something quiet that was meant as a backdrop since the dancing hadn’t started yet. I recognized a popular aria from one of Salieri’s operas.

  “Theresa Maria!”

  My uncle’s voice startled me into whirling around. He reached out and grasped my arm with so much force that I thought someone might notice.

  “How do you come to be related to a maid of honor?” he hissed into my ear. “Especially one who is known to have Reformist sympathies?”

  I was spared the need to answer him by General Stein-hammer, who bowed to me and restated his intention to claim my first dance. The orchestra struck up a leisurely triple time, and I decided I had better not put off the task Alida had given me. I saw her joining the dance with a handsome young officer. But they were down at the other end of the room.

  To my dismay, however, rather than a country dance, which would have made conversation difficult, the movement changed to a Polonaise. The reason soon became clear: the archduchess had risen to take the floor, her partner none other than my uncle. Now we would have to promenade around the room, and I would be forced to talk to the general. What I had recently l
earned about him from Alida made my flesh crawl as he lifted my hand to lead me into the dance. I couldn’t help watching my uncle smile and lean in to whisper to the archduchess, who more than once fluttered her fan in front of her face to hide a giggle.

  ONE, two, three, ONE, two, three, I counted to myself, getting into the rhythm of the dance and trying not to forget to sink into one knee and point out the other toe on the strong first beat, then rise up on my toes to step for the weak beats two and three. I noticed that most dancers simply walked in time to the music, but a few stalwarts among us actually tried to dance. That made it a little easier not to talk, since it was also necessary to angle one’s head out prettily in the direction of the extended foot every three beats. So I looked first toward the general, then away.

  “I daresay you are a fine dancer, but I had something particular I was hoping to say to you, Mademoiselle.” The general had gripped me closer to him so he could speak into my ear when I turned away, and now I could ignore him no longer.

  “Yes, Your Excellency?” I said, lowering my eyes modestly and bending just a little from the waist as Alida had shown me. His eyes found my cleavage as if a magnet had drawn them there. I felt faintly nauseated. I could see the entire train of events before me and would have no power to avert them once they commenced. Once I did as Alida had instructed me, I would have crossed a threshold. I knew that such actions would initiate me into a world of deceit, and I could no longer claim to be entirely innocent.

  At that moment we passed by the end of the ballroom where the orchestra sat. Zoltán was in the last chair of the first violins. I looked at him just in time to catch him watching me before he focused on the music in front of him again. I could not see his expression. What must he think of me? I wished I could clap my hands and make time stand still for a moment so that I could run and talk to him, explain that I was about to flirt shamelessly with this old general on the instructions of Alida, that my actions had nothing to do with what I really wanted or how I really felt. But the moment flew by, and soon we were approaching the door to the anteroom where Alida had told me to bring the general.