Louise Marley - The Brahms Deception

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Table of Contents

A CKNOWLEDGMENTS

As I have done so often, Ive depended on the advice and sharp eyes (and ears) of Zack Marley, Catherine Whitehead, Kay Kenyon, Sharon Shinn, Cat Rambo, and Brenda Cooper. All of you are gifted writers and generous critiquers, and I thank you from the bottom of my heart. Thanks also to my wonderful editor at Kensington, Audrey LaFehr, as well as my faithful and hardworking agent, Peter Rubie.

A special acknowledgment is due the editor Lou Anders, of Pyr Books, who first bought and published the short story on which this novel is based. p dolce appeared in Fast Forward I, one of his fine anthologies, in 2007.

A voice teacher told me once I was born to sing Brahms. I did, in fact, have a special love for his music, and I was privileged to be able to sing many Brahms songs in concerts and recitals. Im grateful to the Master for his entire body of work.

B OOKS BY L OUISE M ARLEY

The Brahms Deception
Mozarts Blood

CODA

Late that same night, Clara woke abruptly and lay staring at the brass chandelier above her bed. Moonlight shining off the fresh snowfall filled her bedroom with its silvery reflection. She sat up, and pushed back a lock of hair that had escaped her nightcap. She saw everything as easily as in daylight, the bulk of her wardrobe, the pitcher and ewer on the washstand. Mementoes of her jubilee celebration still hung around the oval mirror above her dressing table.

She felt the tug that had become familiar over the years. The first time it had happened she had been still young. She hadnt expected, then, that it would happen again. The visions seemed to come when she least expected them, and she thought that was because they were not about her. Her story had already unfolded, while hiswhoever he waswas still developing.

She got out of bed. At the foot she had laid a knitted shawl, and she wrapped this around her shoulders before she crossed the cold floor to the window. He wasnt here yet, but he would be. She knew this feeling, this sense that she was being called. It had been years since she had felt it, but time did not seem to lessen its insistence.

She looked out the window to see the snowy streets, the pristinely blanketed gardens, the spires of the churches rising in the distance, glittering faintly in the moonlight. It felt good, she thought, to be looking forward to Christmas, to have her children about her, to have Hannes in the house. She was getting old, but that was not what mattered. Her family mattered, and her work. Her reputation mattered, and Roberts memory. Roberts legacy. At this moment, in the depth of winter, she was content.

She shivered against the chill seeping in through the glass. As she drew her shawl tighter around her shoulders, she turned her back to the window.

He was standing just inside the door of her bedroom. He wore his customary smooth, shiny coat, made of some material she didnt recognize. It was short, and he wore it open over a shirt with the collar undone. His trousers were made of some rough fabric, with slanted, stitched pockets and bits of what looked like hardware here and there. Like Hannes, he was young, and strong, and handsome.

And this time he wasnt alone.

Oddly, the young woman at his side wore the same rough trousers, but she wore a thick sort of shirt over them, with a high collar that folded just under her pointed chin. She was small and very pretty, with curling, disarrayed hair and a short, straight nose. He had his arm around her, and they were both laughing, leaning together, walking. Clara smiled to see them, though an ache of nostalgia for her own youth made her press her hands to her heart.

The girl seemed not to see her, but hehe turned his head, and his eyes widened. They looked at each other, Clara and the boy, for a long, tender moment. He kept walking, but his eyes followed her, keeping her in sight until he was looking over his shoulder. It was illusion, of course, but it seemed he and the girl walked across her bedroom and vanished through the wall behind the wardrobe.

Clara knew, at that instant, that she would not see him again. The era in her life that had begun in Castagno in 1861 had come to a close.

Though her bare feet were freezing, she turned back to the window and gazed out on the peaceful winter scene. She was old, but in the still of the night, like this, she remembered her mother reading to her, recalled it as if it were yesterday.

Down I go, but I do not stay,
Up again, up, as high as I may.
Voices call, but I do not hear,
A little bird in the sky so clear,
Down and up, and up and down,
A little lark in a silken gown.

Perhaps, after all, she would try to set the poem to music, to re-create the song that had been lost. She would write it to please Hannes and give it to him privately. She would offer it to him as a Christmas gift, a little secret present. It would be a memento of their time together. No one need ever know.

A UTHORS N OTE

Clara Wieck Schumann, 18191896, was considered one of the finest pianists of the Romantic period in music. She concertized for over sixty years, beginning her professional life when she was only nine. Her relationship with Johannes Brahms has been the topic of much speculation over the years, but the two of them gave gossips little to do but speculate. Their idyll in the hilltop town of Castagno is completely invented by the author of this book, but there is little doubt the two cared deeply for each other. Brahms died only a year after Clara, though he was fourteen years her junior.

For a short bibliography and samples of the music of Brahms and of Madame Schumann, please visit www.louisemarley.com .

A READING GROUP GUIDE

THE BRAHMS
DECEPTION

Louise Marley

ABOUT THIS GUIDE

The suggested questions that follow
are included to enhance your groups
reading of this book.

Discussion Questions

Clara Schumann, in The Brahms Deception, gives up Johannes Brahms for the sake of her children, her reputation, and the memory of her late husband. Do you think modern women would make the same sacrifice?

Frederica Bannister is willing to pay any price to be with Johannes Brahms, even if it means living in the nineteenth century, with its deprivations and restrictions, particularly on the actions of women. Do you think, if she had succeeded, she would have been able to adjust to the nineteenth-century lifestyle and culture? Would you want to live in the nineteenth century?

Clara Schumann chides herself for her selfishness in persisting with her concert career. Catherine Clark has no such misgivings, and feels entitled to do whatever is necessary to further her ambitions. Do you see parallels between the two characters? Do you think the different cultures in which they grew up make the real difference between them?

How much do you think the position of women in society has changed since Claras time? Is it better, or is it worse in some ways?

Kristian North idolizes Clara Schumann, and finds contemporary women lacking in comparison to her. Do you think, when Kristian sees Chiara Belfiore in Angels Bar, that he is ready to give up the dream of someone who lives only in the past?

Clara Schumann, like Mozart before her and a number of other child prodigies, worked as a full-time professional musician from childhood, in her case the age of nine. What do you think of her fathers treatment of her? Do you think there is a way to allow a child to perform regularly in public but still enjoy the freedoms of childhood?

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