Dorien arrived back in the entrance hall just as Harrison pulled up in the limo. Madame Usher threw open the doors. “Hans,” she threw out her arms as a lanky man picked his way up the steps. They did that air kissing thing people in music always did, the sloppy sound of saliva hitting flesh.
“Allow me to introduce this year’s students.” She swept him into the hall, taking his coat and tossing it to me. I hung it over the hook that was right behind her.
“Ah, Dorien Valencourt needs no introduction.” Dorien leaned forward to do the air-kissing thing with the conductor, who had shoulder-length grey hair swept back into a ponytail, and a hooked nose straight out of my fairy tale book. “And I see Titus and Ivan have joined you. It has been too long since you played for us in Berlin.”
“Agreed. Broken Muse would love to return to Germany.”
Boris tsked. “Last time we hosted you, you threw a TV into a swimming pool and caused the police to be called to your hotel.”
“Three times,” Titus piped up, a wicked grin spreading across his face.
Dorien glared at him.
Hans nodded. “Ja, three times. My orchestra cannot afford another scandal, or we’ll lose funding.”
Dorien made the sign of the cross. “I swear on the Almighty the three of us are on our very best behavior.”
“I’ll believe it when I see it. And Elena Nicolescu.” Hans clasped her hand, his eyes drinking her in. “You’re still as enchanting as ever.”
“Thank you.” Her waifish voice soared with pleasure.
Madame shoved Aroha forward. “This is Aroha Rawhiri, from New Zealand. And this is Heather Danvers, of the New Jersey Danvers.”
“And who is this crimson beauty in the corner?” Hans’ eyes swept over me like he was the Big Bad Wolf and I’d just showed up at the door with a red hood and a basket of blackberry tarts.
Seven pairs of eyes flew to me, most of them flaring with annoyance.
“That’s… Faye.” Madame Usher answered stiffly. “She was a student of my New York school before moving to the public school system. I’m afraid her technique won’t ever recover.”
I love the way she says ‘public school’ like it’s a disease.
“Fayede Winter,” Aroha piped up from the back. I glared at her, and she gave me a sly wave.
At the mention of my last name, Hans’ eyes widened with interest. “As in, Donovan de Winter?”
“He was my father,” I said through gritted teeth.
“Astounding. That man had aspiccatotechnique that has never been replicated. The entire Classical world was devastated when he disappeared. I had no idea he had aprotégé.You must share with me all you know of his whereabouts.”
Yes, if I had information about my missing cockpoodle of a father, I’d totally be willing to reveal it to a complete stranger with an obnoxious ponytail.
Hans clasped his hands together. I could practically see him salivating. “Madame Usher, you never told me I was to expect such a star-studded lineup.”
“Save your praise until after the recital.” She led Hans into the Blue Room, the rest of us shuffling behind.
As Hans settled himself into the chair by the window, usually reserved for Master Radcliffe, I poured him a glass of Champagne. As I handed it to him, my gaze caught my music stand near the window.
My violin wasn’t there.
Panic seized me.
There was Ivan’s violin exactly where I left it, the case still locked tight. On the other side of the room, by the piano, was Aroha’s piece. Heather’s violin and Titus’ cello sat together in the corner. But my instrument was nowhere to be seen. “Where’s my violin?”
“Shhhh.” Heather glared at me, obviously forgetting about the no-talking-to-Faye rule. “Don’t make us look bad.”
I snorted. “Sure, wouldn’t want to put yourneck ruffsto shame, Marie Antoinette. I left my violin set up by the window, but it’s missing.”
Madame’s eyes flashed. “You’re accusing another student of taking your violin?”
