off all resolution. It was the end of feeling such loneliness, of being the one not chosen, of living in silence.
He was panting and rubbing himself against her. His groin was hard. He pushed up her skirt and petticoats, and explored high above her knee under her drawers. “Yes,” she stammered. “So it’s ‘yes’ then?” he replied. His fingers touched the soft hair between her legs, and she gasped; he put his free hand over her mouth. “Ah, you wild kitten,” he whispered. “I have wanted you since you first walked into my shop.”
He pushed her back onto the table, and some materials fell to the floor. Vaguely she felt something sharp under her back, and heard the pounding of dancing on the floor above them. He was pressing against her; as she lay in shock and joy, feeling his weight, she managed to murmur, “But what does this mean, Johann? Will you leave your wife and run away with me?”
“What I wouldn’t do for you!”
The street door opened abruptly, and a few men came in, dragging a great bass in its case. She rolled to the side, pulling down her skirts. Without his warmth above her she felt naked and alone. He had stridden forward to greet his new guests, his voice hearty, hand extended; in her confusion she backed up, began to pick up some bits of ivory from the floor, and then dropped them. Quickly she ran up the steps to the room with the half-empty plates and the wine bottles. And where was he? Half of her had been torn away. And then there he was, coming up the stairs with his friends.
From a corner his wife stared at her, and Constanze stood between the woman’s hard eyes and the man’s broad laughter. It was as if he were a different person than the one who had almost taken her virginity downstairs on the table with the instrument parts pushing into her back. Her virginity—dear Lord! She moved among the others, wondering if everyone could see on her face what had happened. Except for Frau Schantz’s bitter look, no one seemed to notice her at all.
Sophie was shaking her. “It’s time to go,” her little sister whispered. Sophie’s breath was also full of wine and cakes, and she swayed a little and burst into embarrassed giggles. “I’ve made a fool of myself! Someone twice my age tried to feel my breasts. I think I’m drunk. We promised we’d be home by ten. Alfonso is also drunk; I don’t know how his wife will get him home. I find these evenings confusing; convent life must be easier. May I hold on to your arm. Dearest Stanzi, I am quite ...”
They supported each other down the stairs, past the many instruments in the shadows and out into the spring evening. Sophie put her hand over her mouth. “I’m going to be sick,” she gasped.
“Rest here awhile.”
“We’ve got to be home. Blessed Saint Anne, Stanzi, someone’s coming.”
They turned as best they could and made out Alfonso’s golden-haired prodigy hurrying after them. He approached them in a nice trot, his face openly good-natured, and said, “Let me walk with you! What were the others thinking! You should not walk home alone.” His glance took in Sophie, but he was discreet and said nothing, only looked a little amused.
Constanze let him take her arm, glancing worriedly at her sister on the other side of him. Whatever he said, she heard little. She thought only of the dark instrument workshop, the smell of unfinished wood, the glimmering black and ivory keys, the oddly coiled strings, the feel of the fortepiano maker as he pressed close, the sound of dancing above. What could she make of the kiss, and the hand groping above her garter? What wouldn’t I do for you, he had said. And now there was Sophie, cautiously putting one flat shoe before the other, babbling about the evening. The sooner she goes to a convent, the better, Constanze thought. I ought to join her. I’ll have to confess this.
Sophie’s chatter grew indistinct, and they walked in silence for a while until they saw the green dome of Peterskirche rising stolidly above the tall houses. Constanze slipped her arm from Henri’s and curtseyed. “We can go from here,” she said.
“May I come to call on you, mademoiselle?”
“You may,” she said, distracted, taking her sister’s arm.
He walked away, looking back every now and then to smile at them.