Blood Rhapsody by Nancy Morse

Author:Nancy Morse [Morse, Nancy]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Published: 2013-12-14T14:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 13

“Not coming back?” Pru’s voice sounded hollow and unbelieving.

“Yes, dear. His manservant brought this note by this morning.”

Disappointment radiated throughout Pru’s being as she read Nicolae’s note. The handwriting penned on the ivory parchment was neat and impersonal, with nary a curlicue or flourish to indicate it was written by the same hand that played the violoncello with such emotion. The words were spare and to the point and offered no explanation of why he was not returning.

She’d been hoping to tell him what she learned from the alchemist when he came for his final music lesson. She looked at her father with a bleak expression. “I don’t understand.” He was the one brilliant spot in her dreary, otherwise uneventful life, she wanted to say.

“It’s likely he feels there is nothing more to be gained from his lessons,” her papa said weakly. “And he would be right.”

A frown marred Pru’s features. That was the logical reason, but she could not help but wonder if she was the cause of it. Did Nicolae regret confiding his dreadful secret to her? Was he angry that she had rejected his offer of immortality? Or maybe, she thought with a start, he’d met someone else, a woman more accommodating and experienced. It made awful sense. After all, she had scarcely known what to do. He’d had to guide her every step of the way. She straightened indignantly. What did he expect? He knew she was unpracticed in the art of lovemaking. It must have pleased him immensely to know she was a virgin. And now that he’d taken from her the only thing of value she possessed, was he done with her?

She balled up the note and hurled it across the room. It bounced off the fireplace grate and landed on the carpet. “I’m not going to the concert,” she announced.

“Pruddy, you must.”

“How can I, Papa?” she said in horror. “After everything we have done for him, this is how he repays us? With a note and no explanation?”

“I suppose,” he uttered reluctantly. “But perhaps you are too quick to judge him.”

“I wouldn’t be the first. Aunt Vivienne absolutely abhors the man.”

“Your aunt has not heard him play. You have, and so you know there is more to him than what his note conveys.” He lifted his head a little higher on the pillow and looked at his daughter. “Are you in love with our young friend, Pruddy?”

“Certainly not!”

“Then has he done anything that would cause this uncharacteristic display of irritation?” His gaze strayed tellingly to the crumpled note on the floor.

Pru closed here eyes, trying hard to block out all the ways in which Nicolae had tricked her. Had it been all a ruse just to take Papa’s place at the concert? Was the story he told her even true, any of it? She had believed it, but was that because she wanted to or because he wanted her to? What a fool she was for trusting him, for believing everything he said, even the part about her being beautiful.

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