Rhapsody Read Online Free PDF Page B

festival."
    "Sorry, Vera," he said. "I guess I'm a little
weary. Jet lag or something." What is she prattling on about
anyway ? he asked himself. Some ancient Countess von und zu
Something-or-other. He found that he was irrationally irritated,
with Vera and this glittering party. It was his own preoccupation,
however, that disturbed him the most, for he couldn't seem to shake
its hold over him.
    "Do you feel ill?" she asked.
    "No, no," he answered, trying to reassure
her. "Just tired."
    "You worry me, Misha," she persisted. "You're
not yourself. You haven't been since lunch."
    Why doesn't she leave me alone? he wondered.
God! How I would give anything to get out of this stifling
atmosphere with all these relics of a by-gone age and get back to
the hotel where I can—what? But he knew what. Speak with Serena on
the telephone. Arrange a meeting for tomorrow afternoon.
    "I'll be fine," he said to his wife, a tired
smile crossing his lips.
    He saw the consternation etched into her
elegant features. A sudden wave of guilt, like a fever, washed over
him, and he realized that betraying her in his thoughts, as he
surely was, was virtually tantamount to the actual deed. But what
choice do I have? he asked himself.
    "You look beautiful tonight," he said to her,
hoping that his voice had the ring of sincerity, for it was true.
"Ravishing."
    "Thank you, Misha," she said, smiling. "I
didn't think you'd noticed, and I made a very special effort for
you tonight."
    And indeed she had, he noticed. She was
wearing an opulent Christian Lacroix couture ball gown. Its bodice,
all creamy lace that ended in handkerchief sleeves, was gem
encrusted, and its skirt was the same lace underlaid with a
rose-colored satin petticoat. The gown had required three fittings
in Paris and was a masterpiece of the couturier's art.
    Her pale blond hair was pulled back into an
elegant twist, with slightly curled tendrils framing her porcelain-
skinned face. She wore diamonds, white and pink, on her ears, at
her throat, and on her wrists. Normally a more conservative
dresser, she had about her the air of a Marie Antoinette fantasy
tonight.
    Misha looked at her admiringly, asking
himself how he could even think of betraying this lovely creature.
But try as he might, he could not wrench his mind away from
thoughts of Serena Gibbons. It was as if she had cast a spell on
him, a spell he didn't have the power to break.
    "Vera, liebes Kind! An elegant lady of an
ancient age tottered up to them and exchanged air kisses in the
Continental fashion with Vera. She was dressed in a rather dowdy
manner, Misha observed, old lace and satin hanging limply on her
skeletal frame, but she wore what appeared to be the entire wealth
of the Holy Roman Empire in precious stones.
    "I must meet this divine man," the woman said
to Vera, her English embroidered with the merest trace of a German
accent. She nodded toward Misha, her wispy white hair riotously
escaping the confines of the tiara she wore, its immense stones
looking far too weighty for her head.
    "Katharina," Vera obliged, "this is my
husband, Misha. And this, Misha," she said, turning to her husband,
"is Princess Katharina von Wallenburg."
    Misha took the princess's bony, liver-spotted
hand in his own and bent over to kiss it, careful of the enormous
stones in her many rings. "I am very pleased to make your
acquaintance," he said, making an effort to turn on his charm once
again.
    "Likewise," the princess replied, her smile
exposing yellowing teeth. Her shrewd, hooded old eyes twinkled
cornflower blue. "The concert was magnificent, as I'm certain
everyone has told you, so I won't bore you about it any further.
But it was so beautiful that Rudolph and I will be making an extra
little gift to the fund. In your name."
    "I am honored," Misha said humbly, "and I
thank you very much." He noticed that Vera was smiling broadly, and
knew that he had her to thank for this honor. It was her tireless
socializing on his behalf that had brought