Diana knew it too. She gave him a satisfied look, and said something that brought a wary look to his eyes. He stepped back and then came down the terrace steps.
Lucy grabbed his arm. “What is she doing? Do you know?”
“Just announcing the concert, she says.” Richard turned to Laura, and she saw the strain of the last hour on his face. “I don’t think she’s—”
But what he thought, he did not get to complete. Diana’s voice, amplified, cut through his words. “Ladies and gentlemen – a minute of your time.”
She stood there, sparkling again, turning herself on like the performer Dominic had trained her to be. She had been born for the great opera houses of the world, but she was making the best of this terrace, this day, this hour. The guests all turned to her, seeing not the unwelcome guest at the banquet, but Diana Abbott at her best, Sleeping Beauty now awakened, so beautiful it was hard to look away.
“Oh, brother,” muttered Tom. “What an act.”
And it was. Diana waited to make sure everyone’s eyes were on her, and she held out an arm at the caterers’ tables in a theatrical gesture. “Just a brief moment – I know we’re all hungry, and doesn’t all that food look fabulous! Thank you so much for coming here to celebrate the Fourth of July with us—”
“I’m going to kill her,” said Mel McIntire on Laura’s right, and didn’t keep her voice down when her husband shushed her. “All she did was show up to spread her own special brand of trouble.”
“Mel,” said Richard, and then swore under his breath. “What is Julie doing?”
Oh, no.
Diana was chattering on, something about the Fourth of July and remembering their freedoms after the terrible events of 9/11, but her family wasn’t paying attention. Julie was wheeling out her harp, as tall as she was, and setting it up beside her mother. Laura felt a cold tide sweep over her.
“As many of you know, my sister Lucy – Lucy, back there,” and she waved, “and I have a piano club in Hampton. We’re very proud of it. We’ve run it for two years – well, Lucy really runs it, she’s the boss, you all know I’m not so good at business – but in our two years—”
A ripple of laughter spread through the group at her charming self-deprecation.
“—Hampton Roads Club and Tavern has prided itself on bringing the best of adult contemporary music to our part of the world. Tomorrow we’ll issue an official press release—”
“Only if I let her live,” Lucy whispered furiously.
“—but here’s a sneak preview today! Ladies and gentlemen, save the date – two weeks from tomorrow night, July 19—”
Six years of flawless anonymity, and her blabbermouth sister was about to blow it all.
“—appearing at Hampton Roads Club and Tavern, to benefit the neonatal wing at St. Blaise Hospital – in her first Virginia concert ever—”
No way out.
“—Lucy and I proudly present our baby sister, Laura St. Bride—”
Game and set to Diana.
Laura squared her shoulders, ignored Richard’s hand on her arm – she might never feel his hand on her again – and began to walk up the steps.
“—Miss Cat Courtney!”
Anyone looking at her saw only a young woman dressed casually for an outdoor party, climbing the steps to stand beside her beloved older sister, smiling graciously at the applause that greeted her. She’d learned her lesson well from Dominic: never let the mask slip, never let anyone see. She’d forgotten that lesson since Monticello.
She would not forget again.
Cat Courtney spoke into the mike. “Thank you so much.”
She thought her head might split from the pain.
Diana took the mike again. “Now this is a benefit, we’ll be taking reservations starting tomorrow. I know you’ll want to support the neonatal wing – there’s more information on the flier – and of course, you won’t want to miss Laurie in concert.” She held up the slip of paper Richard had handed her earlier, and Laura saw now that it was a corporate check. “And, since this is an Ashmore & McIntire party, I’m so excited to announce that Ashmore & McIntire is sponsoring two tables—”
Applause.
“Thanks so much to Richard and Scott for their generosity!” Then, unbelievably, she blew a kiss at her stone-faced husband. “And the law firm of Maitland & Maitland is sponsoring a table, so we’re well on our way to reaching our goal—”
From Lucy’s dropped jaw, that was news to her.
“—And, of course, in addition to her performance, Cat Courtney is sponsoring a table—”
Maybe Lucy had written it into the contract. She didn’t care.
“It’s so exciting to have Laurie back here with us again,” Diana said. “Lucy and I feel it is a dream come true—” hadn’t she said this already?— “we’re a family reunited. And to have our sister sing for us is more than we ever dreamed. And now, Laurie,” and Diana moved in for the kill, putting her arm around her sister’s waist and giving it an affectionate squeeze, “can you give us a preview? Something to,” she sparkled, “whet our appetite?”
She’d known, she’d known the second she’d seen Julie bring out the harp. Diana had planned this, and never again would she dismiss her sister’s ability to strike. This was entirely the wrong setting for Cat Courtney; there was neither mist nor mystery here, just a humid early evening and a lot of people who wanted to eat and watch fireworks. Cat Courtney wooed audiences in lace and pearls and long bedroom curls; Laura St. Bride stood before a crowd with a limp French twist and a casual suburban-mom outfit.
Diana knew. She was counting on it, that Cat Courtney, yanked out of her normal stage environment, without her protective coloring, would fall flat on her face.
Gambling that, after tonight, she would regain the crown as Dominic’s true musical heir.
Laura flashed her most Cat Courtney-like smile and nodded graciously. Diana had forgotten how many years of practice she’d had, going all the way back to when she had sat beside Dominic on the piano bench, daydreaming.
A searing pain streaked behind her eyes. She looked at the sheet music on Julie’s music stand. “Persephone.” Everyone expected that; it was her anthem song. “He Never Loved Me.” No, no, no. “Midnight.”
Someone called out, “Sing ‘Midnight.’”
She sent the man a flirtatious wink. “Too R-rated for this crowd.”
Laughter.
She plucked an octavo from behind two others, and knew why Julie had kept it hidden from her mother. “This one.”
She ignored Julie’s gasp and stepped up to the microphone. She put Laura away somewhere remote, safe; the woman who looked out at her audience did not see her lover, or her sister watching her with frantic eyes. She did not see the sister who stood a few feet away, waiting for her to fail. She saw the great dark beast, the great unknown glimpsed at the start of every performance.
She said into the mike, “I want to dedicate this to our sister Francie, who can’t be here with us today.”
Without looking back at Julie, she gave her a nod and waited for the opening chords.
Most of her songs demanded far more than a harp; this was one of the few that spun such light, delicate notes, lovely little silver droplets of sound.
“Laughter and joy rising,
The sun, the sand, the sea,
Living forever in memory,
You were always there,
For all my life…”
Lucy was staring at her in horror.
“Bright smiles and stardust
Gliding in and ’round life
I was never like you
Never turned heads and hearts
The way you did without a thought
The last time I saw you,
You shimmered, lost star, gone star...”
She did not need to look at Diana to know that her sister stood frozen in shock.
“You’ve been gone so long
I can’t remember your voice
> As you sang out your hello
But I still see your eyes in the stars
And you’re not so far away....”
She finished on a simple, sweet note. As Julie played the last chords, she tilted her head slightly and let her eyelashes sweep down. It was an effective mannerism that signaled to the listeners that the song was finished, and it did not fail this time. At the last note, applause broke out.
Laura turned her head slowly, slowly enough so no one who didn’t sense the undercurrents would ever catch it, and she gave Diana a sidelong glance. All the gaiety had drained from Diana; she stared back at Laura, pale, devastated.
That’s right, Diana. Francie.
Lucy was pushing her way towards them, her eyes burning straight into Laura.
“Encore,” called a guest.
At that, Diana woke up. She was Dominic’s daughter, too; she knew never to falter on stage. The understudy, the walk-on, had upstaged her. She had to act now to turn the spotlight back on herself. And she did so with a vengeance, bringing her hands up to clap. “Bravo, Laurie!” She moved over to embrace her sister, and made sure to turn away from the mike. And into Laura’s ear, she breathed, “You – fucking – bitch.”
Julie heard, and gasped.
Laura hugged her back. “Family’s reunited, are we?” she said savagely, and Diana tensed against her. “Forgotten her, have you? I haven’t.”
Diana stepped back, and her smile was fond and proud. “And whose fault is that?” Her shoulders lifted slightly as though she and Laura were sharing a laugh. “You saw her last.”
Lucy mounted the steps, but Diana forestalled her before she could say anything. She moved back to the mike, subtly crowding Laura into stepping back. “Wow! And that’s just a preview. Now,” she leaned forward, gorgeous smile enveloping them all, “want to hear a secret? Not too many people know Laurie trained for opera—”
Lucy inhaled audibly.
“—And we all thought she’d given it up, but I was privileged to hear her singing Madama Butterfly earlier this evening, and, my friends, she hasn’t lost her touch. She confided in me that she might even include a few pieces on her next album—”
Laura looked blindly at her audience.
“It would make our father very happy to know that Laurie is considering a return to the opera stage.” Diana stepped back and lifted her arm towards her sister. “Laurie, sing Puccini for us.”
Game, set, and match.
Except that Diana didn’t know who she was dealing with.
None of them had ever known.
Lucy grabbed her arm and whispered, “Don’t do this. Please, I beg you.”
Laura looked at her briefly – didn’t Lucy see that she had no choice? – and walked over to Julie, watching them with frightened eyes. Oh, Julie, you think you are such a schemer. These currents you cannot begin to imagine. Someone called out, “I love you, Cat.”
There was one in every crowd.
She waved back. “I love you too.” She fixed Julie in her sights and said quietly, “Do you have my father’s sheet music?”
Julie swallowed hard. Laura leaned down and said in a fierce whisper, “Don’t play games with me. I know you’ve been to that house. Do you have his sheet music?”
Julie managed a nod.
“Good.” Laura reached for the pencil on Julie’s music stand – like any good musician, she kept one handy. She scribbled on the back of a sheet. “Go find that. I know for a fact that he had it. Go!”
Julie cast an anxious look at her father, another at her mother, and fled into the house.
Laura walked over to the mike. “Sorry, folks, had to arrange for some music.” She cast an unseeing glance over them. “While we wait, I invite all of you to join me in celebrating this holiday. As Diana said,” and she sent a smile in her sister’s direction, “we have much to be grateful for this Fourth of July – much to mourn. We’ve sustained a terrible shock, but we’ve shown we can pick up and go on. Nothing can bring us to our knees.”
Do you hear that, sister dear?
“In memory of those we lost—” in the ether, Cam would just have to forgive her— “please join me in our national anthem.”
She didn’t dare look at Richard.
The national anthem was too difficult for most people to sing; they hit those last verses and dipped an octave, but she had a method to her madness. She deliberately pitched high, to test her tessitura. She had no trouble stretching her voice. She’d limbered up earlier with Madama Butterfly and “Francie,” and what Diana didn’t know was that, given sufficient warm-up, she could sing well beyond her normal range.
And what Diana also didn’t know was that Laura knew, by heart, the aria sung so many years ago, when Dominic had conducted his oldest daughter in concert and she had shone like a star in her satin wedding dress.
“And the rocket’s red glare,
The bombs bursting in air,
Gave proof through the night,
That our flag was still there.”
Julie came out the door, yellowed sheet music in her hand.
“Oh, say, does that star-spangled banner ever wave,
O’er the land of the free—”
Most people bailed out here, unable to sustain that note.
“—And the home of the brave.”
Some people had tears streaming down their faces. They’d played the national anthem at Cam’s memorial service, and she and Meg had both broken down. But Cat Courtney did not have the luxury of tears.
Applause rose.
She inclined her head, and then stepped over to Julie, Diana on her heels. She picked up the music and flipped to the third page. “Start there, on G.”
“No!” Diana had seen it too. “No, you can’t. Julie, don’t play it. That’s an order.”
Laura turned on her, and they stared at each other for a long moment. “Fine.” Her voice shook. “Then you sing it. You get up there, Diana, and you sing for these people.”
Diana swallowed hard.
She’d never known she had such a bitch living inside her. She’d never dreamed she could behave this way to someone so utterly pathetic, fighting for what little she had left. She stared at her sister, the challenge hard in her eyes, and then she stepped back to the mike.
For a second, she didn’t know which way Julie would go. A harp was terrible accompaniment for this piece, anyway, but it was all she had. She could always sing a cappella if she had to. Diana had forgotten that also – with her perfect pitch, she could sing anything without accompaniment.
Then she heard the chord. Julie had made her decision.
A few tentative notes – Julie didn’t know “Nessun Dorma,” that was obvious. Laura waited through the introductory measures, and remembered that night when Diana had sung in concert, her future and her marriage bright before her. When young Laura Abbott had sat beside Diana’s husband and seen the prince smile proudly at his princess, so violently in love that, granted the gift of perfect foresight, he would have denied that this day could ever come.
“Nessun dorma,
nessun dorma ...
Tu pure, o Principessa,
Nella tua fredda stanza,
Guardi le stelle
Che tremano d'amore
E di speranza”
No one sleeps!
No one sleeps!
Even you, oh princess,
in your cold room,
look at the stars
that tremble with love
and hope!
Richard, a week ago, climbing the stairs to his princess’s bedchamber, the prince long since locked from that cold room.
“Ma il mio mistero è chiuso in me,
Il nome mio nessun saprà,
no, no,
Sulla tua bocca, io lo dirò
Quando la luce splenderà.”
But my mystery, it is locked in me.
And my name, no one will know!
No, no!
On your mouth I
will say it,
when the light will shine!
Richard, faced with the devastation of that terrible moment he had locked away – when Diana had flung her betrayal, and its consequences, in his face.
“Ed il mio bacio scioglierà il silenzio
he ti fa mia.”
And my kiss will break the silence,
that makes you mine!
But his kiss hadn’t broken the bonds holding his princess to her master. Laura’s kiss hadn’t broken the bonds that held him to Diana. She no longer knew if it ever would.
“Dilegua, notte!
Tramontate, stelle!
Tramontate, stelle!”
Vanish, night!
Set, stars!
Set, stars!
She was not going to be a creature of his night any longer. She was taking back the day.
“All'alba vincerò!”
At dawn, I will win!
And did Diana see now? Did she know the stakes?
“Vincerò!”
Did she understand that she had declared war on the wrong sister? I am much stronger than Francie ever was. Think you can face me in battle and win?
She lifted her arms to the heavens.
“Vincerò!”
I will win!
She let her voice ring out, her volume glorious against the terrace stones and the olive trees, her pitch perfect. As she let that last note die into the chords of the harp, she let her eyes drift shut, she bowed her head, and her arms fell slowly to her side.
A moment of stunned silence, and then the applause thundered against the stones. She took a deep breath, opened her eyes, and smiled at them, and for a moment – just for a moment – Cat Courtney allowed Laura to savor the triumph.
Did you ever think I could do it, Daddy? And how quietly do you lie in your grave now?
She turned and motioned for her niece to get up and take a bow. Torn between her mother and her aunt, between loyalty and music, Julie had pulled through magnificently, and she deserved every second of applause. Then Laura said into the mike, “Thank you for listening. Please join us in two weeks.”
She ignored Diana, eyes dark with fury and humiliation. She ignored Lucy, eyes bright with pride and apprehension, and she walked down into the crowds.
All That Lies Broken (Ashmore's Folly Book 2) Page 21
