Page 181 of Pervade London
Why did Diana want me off this yacht?
The seats quickly filled with guests as we took our places on the stage. I scanned the many faces. A line of dignitaries sat in the front row. Peramivir, the Russian Ambassador, sat amongst them, and beside him, a burly man with a grumpy face and thinning hair…Ivor Mikhail.
I tore my gaze away, recalling James’ visceral response in the Park Room Restaurant when he’d heard the man’s name. Remembering his pained expression caused dread to shudder through me. I’d felt compelled to do research on Mikhail sooner rather than later, because I’d never seen Ballad look so tortured before.
Diana took her place before us.
In a daze, I realized my feet were resting upon the same stage as hers. My beloved idol was mere feet away and playing Mendelssohn’s “Violin Concerto in E Minor.” These lowly students bathed her in grandeur as her soul poured forth musical notes from her Mary Portman Guarneri violin. Yet again she reminded everyone why she was hailed as an iconic star. She moved elegantly, playing with the ease of a world-famous violinist.
Afterward, there came the thunderous quake of awed applause.
Penn-Rhodes signaled it was my turn.
I, Emily Rampling, was to follow the greatest violinist of the twenty-first century. My talent would pale.
With a kind nod of support from Diana, I hurried forward, raising my violin and bringing up my bow, positioning my chin rest.
Brahms’ “Violin Sonata No. 3” sang from my Stradivarius as my heart chased after each note, my body moving with the music, my soul cracking into a thousand shards of misery. The melancholy piece had been written to honor the creator’s forbidden and unrealized love. Ignoring the audience, and the many faces focused on me, I played with every fiber of my being. I had once desired to perform in public, but now I struggled to keep control of my confused emotions and self-consciousness.
I wasn’t meant to be here.
I’d stolen this moment that was never destined to be mine. This realization cried through my strings to convey what I was incapable of saying. Each note, each draw of my bow was a plea for forgiveness.
Pulling my love for Xavier out of the ether, I played for him, recalling the first time we’d met in the Underground…the way he’d bravely chased after my violin to rescue it. The fact he’d given me this one in its place was as astonishing as it was profound. He and James had gifted me with a beautiful home. In return, I’d betrayed their trust and lied to them.
A future with the three of us together was never going to happen.
Destroyed by these thoughts, I let go and gave myself over to the music completely, as only a true lover can.
Just as James had taught me.
And then it was over. I stirred from my melancholy, lowering my bow and staring out at the sea of faces looking back at me, and then snapping my gaze over to Penn-Rhodes.
He gave a nod. “Whatever is ailing your heart, cling to that.”
The clapping grew louder until there was a standing ovation.
Awed by their reaction, I managed to smile. Their fervent applause to my performance made my heart sing with joy.
Exhilaration took hold of me. This was a memory I’d always hold on to.
The evening progressed with my fellow students showing off their talent and lending their youthful brilliance to this esteemed setting. Diana played once more to end the evening’s recital—again reminding everyone present why she was hailed as the queen of the international stage.
Afterward, we huddled in the corner congratulating each other on a concert well done. Penn-Rhodes’s tutoring had been honored.
A hand rested on my shoulder.
Pivoting, I saw Diana.
“You play beautifully,” I said breathlessly.
“Come with me.” She spun around in a cloud of chiffon-filled elegance and strolled toward the staircase. “You’re to play for a VIP, Bella.”
Glancing back, I realized I had no choice but to follow.
She led me down the staircase. “You have been summoned.”
“Who by?” Less than an hour ago she’d warned me to get off this yacht, and now she was leading me into its depths.
