I whipped my head around, hearing the sound of imaginary marbles clanging together between my ears. “Li is a member of the Barnes family, Mr. Basset. While in his presence, I expect you to treat him as such.”
Mr. Basset didn’t reply as he walked over to the piano. “Shall we get started? I’m on a schedule.”
I exchanged a quick glance with Li, in which I hoped I conveyed my apologies for Mr. Basset. He nodded and went back to sit on the couch, preparing to listen. There was a quality to Li that seemed more obvious here in bustling Paris. A stillness that drew me to him. Like a morning after a snowfall or the first freeze when everything is beautiful and precious and there are no sounds but the beating of our hearts. I’d missed his presence more than I could explain, even to myself.
We ran through my scales, which I’d dutifully practiced all week. I expected praise but didn’t get it. All he said was, “More practice. You’re still too breathy on the low notes. Remember what I said about the nose.”
Next, Basset had me sing the piece I was working on for the recital next month. According to him, I was not ready for public performance, but he’d reluctantly agreed that I could participate. From what I could discern from his short explanation, twice a year his students performed at a club. He invited influential men who directed operas and musicals and owned music halls. I’d chosen “What’ll I Do,” one of Irving Berlins’s hits. I loved the lyrics, especially after learning Berlin wrote it for the girl he loved. Her father hadn’t approved of Berlin and sent her away to Europe. He wrote it while pining for her, much the same as I’d done for Li over the last few months. I didn’t have any trouble connecting to the emotion of the words and music.
I sang through the first verse before Basset interrupted me, giving me notes on my breathing. He had given me so much instruction I couldn’t keep it all in mind. I apologized and waited for him to begin playing. The second time he let me run all the way through. As sometimes happened, I got lost in the music, the emotion swelling up in me and coming out of my mouth. He was right about breath. The more I did what he asked, the better I became. I hated to admit it, but it was true. That didn’t make his lechery any less disgusting.
When I was done, Basset’s lips twitched, as if he were pleased. I stole a glance at Li. He gave me one of his special smiles. I’d pleased him, at least.
“Better, Miss Barnes.” He leaned close to my ear. “You didn’t have to invite a babysitter, you know. I’ve quite behaved myself, haven’t I?”
I ignored him, asking instead what he wanted me to do next. He got up from the piano bench and drew out a sheet of music. “Here’s something new I want you to try.”
For the next thirty minutes, we went through the new music. It was a lively tune and challenging for my mouth and tongue. Finally, we were done. I felt exhausted and ready for lunch.
When Basset was gone, I collapsed onto the sofa. Crossing my ankles and clasping my hands together, I waited for Li to say something.
“Your voice has grown,” Li said. “We have to admit that.”
“Yes. Do you see why I needed you to come? I didn’t want to give up everything, but I didn’t know how long I could keep pushing off his advances. Of course, he was a peach today.”
“Other than the racial slur,” Li said.
“I’m sorry about that.”
“You didn’t say it.”
“I know, but I’m still sorry it happened.”
He unbuttoned his jacket and adjusted his tie. “It’s a good song for you. I want to hear what you sound like with a whole band behind you.”
“We could go out to one of the clubs tonight. I heard about an underground jazz club not far from here.”
Li brightened. “I’d like that.”
“We could go to dinner first. Just you and me. Last night was too much. I see that now.”
“Fiona, I don’t know about eating out just the two of us. I don’t want trouble.”
“We won’t have any. We’ll eat downstairs. They know me there.”
He continued to look skeptical but acquiesced. “What do you do in the afternoons?”
“Walk a little. Then come back and work on my vocal exercises. I hate them, you know, but I promised Papa.”
We were interrupted by Gabriella asking if we’d like lunch.
“We’d love some,” I said. “And then I’m taking Li out for a walk along the river.”
“Lovely, Miss Barnes.” Gabriella did her customary half curtsy and scuttled back into the kitchen. Shortly after the door closed, I heard a crash and then a flurry of French.
“She’s a little clumsy,” I said. “I think she’s broken five glasses, two plates, and a vase thus far.”
Li laughed. “Poor thing.”
“But she’s so sweet, I can’t let her go.” I spoke just above a whisper.
“My Fiona.” Li smiled as he looked across at me. “Always kind, even to those who don’t deserve mercy.”
My Fiona?How I wished that were true.