Heart Strings (Music of the Heart Book 1) Read Online Free PDF Page A

manager.”
    “Perhaps I could be a secondary harpist—like an understudy the singers have?”
    “That’s not up to me.”
    “Please, sir, can’t you get me in to at least plead my case to the conductor? Surely he has some influence with the theatre manager or this panel of judges.”
    Her pleading eyes reminded him of a sad puppy. Kit was never cruel to puppies. “Very well, but Alex is a temperamental man; I cannot guarantee he’ll even speak with you.”
    She let out her breath as if she had been holding it. “Oh, thank you so much. I don’t mean to be a bother, but I am rather, er that is, I…” She glanced at him from underneath her lashes as if fearing his temper. “I really need the work.”
    Kit had been a hungry musician once, too. And something about her brave yet desperate plea touched his heart. “Follow me.” He knocked on the door.
    The door guard opened it and stuck his face out. “Oh, Mr. Anson, it’s you.”
    “Good evening, Bert.” Kit glanced over his shoulder at the ragged girl. “She’s with me.”
    The door guard hesitated, clearly torn between rules and his desire to stay in Kit’s good graces. “Er, as you wish, sir.”
    “My thanks.” He retrieved a hot cross bun from his pocket and handed it to Bert. “They’re fresh today.”
    Bert grinned. “Thankee, sir.”
    The harpist-waif kept close to Kit as he mounted the steps and entered the stage, dodging curtains, ropes, dancers warming up, vocalists running through trills, and the stage crew carrying pieces of the set. The prima donna , painted like a character from a bygone era, whined about the fit of her costume, and one of the dancers silently wrapped her bleeding foot in a strip of cloth before pulling on her ballet slipper. Kit spared a thought for the dancer, but such occurrence was so common that everyone looked at him as if he had grown a second head when he offered aid.
    At the top of the stairs leading to the orchestra pit, he glanced at the opulent auditorium, unceasingly awed by the fresco-painted, domed ceiling, the three levels of seating, and private boxes on each side of the stage. Invigorated by the sight, Kit descended into the orchestra pit with his little shadow trailing him. He glanced back at the girl who looked around her with wide eyes.
    “Now?” thundered the conductor, Alex. “He’s just now telling me this?”
    A young stagehandshrugged and trotted up the stairs to the stage.
    The conductor tugged on his hair. “I can’t believe this!”
    “What’s amiss, Alex?” Kit asked, while the rest of the orchestra ignored his outburst.
    Alex Abbiati, one of the most brilliant young conductors of the decade, turned to him, his brown skin reddening and his coal-black eyes flashing. “The harpist injured his hand today and cannot play.” He let out a groan. “I knew we should have hired a secondary harpist. This one is so temperamental and…odd…that I had a feeling we ought to have someone ready in the wings.”
    Kit blinked. A harpist appears begging for work the same time their orchestra harpist is injured and cannot play? What were the chances of that? Perhaps fate was on this girl’s side. Or an angel watched over her.
    Alex paced back and forth, tugging on his black hair until it stood on end in all directions as if he had been out in an electric storm. “I suppose we’ll have to change your duet in the second act from harp and violin to pianoforte and violin. I’ll have to send word to Marcus. He’s the only one I know who can sight read well enough to perform without rehearsal.”
    “Perhaps we have another option.” Kit glanced over his shoulder at the waif-who-would-be-harpist shadowing him, but she had already stepped around him.
    With all the poise of a duchess, she approached Alex and sank into a curtsy fit for the queen’s drawing room. “Sir, if I may; I am an excellent sight-reader. If you’d be so kind as to allow me to audition, I believe you will agree I am a suitable