It had been weeks since we’d spoken, and I was full of doubts. After all, Mozart was moving in a world peopled by the prettiest singers and dancers in the Empire!
I was fairly innocent, but I knew quite well that there were hundreds of ways a young man could have his cake and eat it too. I began to despair of ever seeing him again.
On the day Mozart was supposed to sign the contract, Mama, Thorwart, and I waited together in the parlor. It was ten minutes past the hour--ten years in hell--when Mozart at last arrived.
He tugged at his cuffs as he always did when he was ill at ease, but his eyes lit up in the most wonderful way when he saw me. The first thing he did was to ceremoniously kiss my hands, one after the other.
Thorwart took Mozart by the shoulder and directed him to the table where the shameful contract lay. While my sweetheart looked it over, I hung my head, knotted my fingers, and waited for the terrible moment when he’d turn on those fashionable red heeled shoes and walk out the door forever.
After what seemed to me yet another eternity, Mozart, face unusually pale, reached with one sturdy hand for the quill they had provided. Heart pounding, scarcely believing my eyes, I watched him sign the marriage contract with a bold flourish.
Herr Thorwart and Mama exchanged a despicable look of triumph, but I was too elated to care.
I was loved! Loved beyond prudence or reason!
After shaking his hand with false bluffness and congratulating him for “acting like an honest fellow,” Thorwart brusquely excused himself. “Business at Court,” he said, in his most irritatingly self-important tone.
Mozart remained, sitting beside me on the sofa. Apparently, with the signing of the contract, he had earned the right to visit. Mama sat on the other side of the room like a watchdog, but we didn’t waste time looking at her.
“You didn’t think I’d do it, did you, Stanzi?” he asked, gathering up my hands. Leaning close, he inhaled deeply. I felt like a rose.
Just as Aloysia had said, Mozart was “only a little man,” but that afternoon I wouldn’t have traded him for the tallest hero in the Empire. His golden hair was unpowdered and a tangle of shiny curls, his queue fashionably braided with black and white satin. After he’d saluted my fingers once again, he pressed my open palms against his face.
Just this little bit of touching made us both shake like a pair of newborn calves. Mama made a sound of disapproval, but we paid no attention.
I wanted to fall into his arms, but above all I wanted to prove that I, too, had courage.
Mozart had disobeyed his father to have me! What could I do to prove my devotion?
My eye fell upon the shameful contract which still lay on the table. The beastly Thorwart hadn’t taken it with him.
Slipping my hands free, I jumped up and ran to the table. Grabbing the contract, I tore it in two.
Mama was completely taken by surprise. For a moment she sat, eyes bulging, rigid with disbelief. Then, she leapt out of her seat and charged.
I threw the pieces in the air and ran back to the protection of my sweetheart’s arms. Together, we turned to face her.
Mama stopped short and shook her head, sputtering furiously.
“Konstanze Marie Weber! Have you lost your mind?”
I clung to my man, desperate to say how true I was. “Dear Mozart!” I cried. “I don’t need any stupid contract. I believe what you say.”
Wolfi’s eyes were bright as he held me.
“Please don’t be angry, Widow Weber,” he pleaded in his softest voice. “On my honor, on my good Mother’s soul, I promise I’ll marry Konstanze just as soon as I can get Papa’s permission.”
Then, right there, in front of her, we kissed. Oh, the warmth, the sweet taste! When it ended, I felt as giddy as if I’d gulped an entire glass of wine.
After Mozart left, Mama set upon me, slapping me over and over, beating me back into the sofa with both hands.
There were a thousand screamed repetitions of “He’d better marry you soon, you crazy little bitch!”
Every day from that instant on I heard about what a fool I had been. Mama heaped endless tasks upon me. I had to cook, do mending for the boarders, and even scrub the floors on my hands and knees.
Finally she locked me in one of the bedrooms. I wouldn’t be allowed out, she said, until I’d finished a veritable mountain of sewing.
She punished Sophie when she tried to whisper to me through the door. I was so frightened and lonely that I lay on the bed and cried for hours.
I began to imagine that if Wolfgang’s Papa didn’t give his consent soon, I’d go completely mad, like some heroine of a melodrama, and end my torment by leaping out the window.
The Six Bells of Madame Lin is the first book in The Witch of Marigold Hall Trilogy, a fictionalized account of the struggles of Lin Mang, a blind woman who manages to navigate the world during the Mongol conquest of China in the 13th Century. Withou
The Six Bells of Madame Lin is the first book in The Witch of Marigold Hall Trilogy, a fictionalized account of the struggles of Lin Mang, a blind woman who manages to navigate the world during the Mongol conquest of China in the 13th Century. Withou
Compelling historical fiction that traces the life of a young English immigrant woman who travels to America at the turn of the century to start a new life for herself. Encountering danger, romance, heartache and tragedy, she strives to fit into a
