The Lorimer Legacy by Anne Melville Read Free Book Online Page B

where two servants were waiting with an invalid chair to carry her up.
    â€˜Thank you, my dear,’ she said. ‘If this is to be the first step in a great career, I feel privileged to have been present at it. I wish you every success.’
    There was an immediate feeling of rapport – almost affection – between the two women. Alexa was warmed by it as she returned to the piano and her sympathy must have been obvious, for Mr Glanville showed no impatience at the interruption.
    â€˜My sister-in-law suffers from a muscular disease,’ he said. ‘She is in constant pain, which she can relieve onlyin hot baths and poultices. My brother leaves with her tomorrow for Baden-Baden, so that she may take the cure again. Now then, let us continue. Mr Lorimer was not deceived. You have a good voice. I would like to explore its range.’
    By now Alexa’s confidence had returned. She had been so painstaking in her exercises over the years that she found no difficulty in singing the scale from each chord he played. When he stood up during the last of them and put his hand lightly round the front of her throat she was disconcerted – but continued to sing in order that he might feel the movement of her larynx, if that was what he wanted.
    His next move was very much more disturbing. He asked her to sing a series of notes, starting softly and making a gradual crescendo, prolonging each note for as long as her breath allowed. As she did so he came to stand behind her, very much closer than Alexa liked, and put his arms round her waist, pressing the palms of both hands against her diaphragm.
    She did her best to conceal her uneasiness. He was testing her breath control. It was a legitimate touch for a music teacher. She had seen her own mother do it to the little girls she taught, helping to show them how they should breathe. But her mother was not a man; and this man was not a music teacher.
    He had the right to know whether she deserved his interest, she told herself. It need never happen again. And although he was not a teacher, he had conducted the audition in a reassuringly professional way. Alexa sustained each note as he had instructed, and tried not to notice that his thumbs were touching her breasts.
    At last the ordeal was over. For a second time he looked her up and down. ‘I think something could be made of you,’ he said. ‘I hope you’re not stupid enoughto think that you can walk straight into an opera company. The training for a singer is long.’
    â€˜How long, sir?’ asked Alexa.
    â€˜The best singers take six years.’ He showed his amusement at the dismay on her face. ‘And by then you think you will be old. and ugly, with the best years of your life wasted! Well, if you work hard, three years may be enough. We will wait until the travellers have departed tomorrow morning, with all the fuss that will involve. Then I will arrange for a teacher and discuss a course of study for you. For tonight, I will have a meal sent up to your room.’
    â€˜You are so kind, Mr Glanville. I don’t quite understand – I would like to say how grateful I am.’
    From what she had been told, she half expected him to reply with some reference to his love of music, but instead he smiled in a manner which she found unpleasant.
    â€˜Good,’ he said. ‘I feed on gratitude. I shall expect to be succoured by regular offerings of it.’ He dismissed her with a nod, leaving her to make her way back to her bedroom.
    As he had promised, a tray was brought to the room. When she had eaten the lonely meal she went to bed, exhausted by a day of travel and anxiety. For a long time she lay with her eyes open in the darkness, trying to make sense of all that had happened and to see, if only a little way, into the future.
    The past was something she must try to forget. Throughout the previous night she had lain awake, weeping, hurt and unhappy. That Matthew should