prologue
Outside London, England—May 19, 1918
The melody inside Chaisley fought with the excited butterflies in her stomach. Which would be released first?
Light shimmered on the shiny black and white keys.
Her birthday present.
The golden letters spelled outSteinway.
Chaisley Frappier’s heart leapt. It was all hers. She slid her hand along each of the eighty-eight keys, counting them again as she went. Their surface reminded her of touching Grandmother’s silver serving dishes. Polished and smooth.
“Go on, darling.” Mother stood in the circle of Father’s arms. “Try it out.”
Chaisley nodded. Couldn’t keep the grin from her face. Father had indulged her initial curiosity by giving her an old, dusty text on musical theory. The binding was falling apart—and if she didn’t hold it just right, pages would fall out—but oh, how she loved that book. The music room had been commissioned not long after she’d read the entire text and shared with them at every meal each new piece of information that fascinated her.
She’d riddled her private tutor with questions about everything she didn’t understand. And soaked in every bit of knowledge asshe waited the long months for her very own pianoforte. Until one day, her teacher informed her parents that she needed a specialized music tutor because he no longer had answers for all her questions.
Another thing to wait for... but to finally have the explanation for the music that seeped from her bones? It was glorious to think about. Grandmother told her such words made her sound much older than her ten years. But all of her time was spent with adults so what other words would she use?
As she sat on the padded bench, she let her legs dangle for a moment, relishing the beauty of the instrument before her. She reached out her right hand to stroke the silky keys again.
The notes resonated within her. Her left hand joined her right.
Touching, caressing, feeling each key as she pressed them to hear the individual sounds.
Each tone.
Her eyes couldn’t leave the piano. She closed the cover with the pretty gold letters over the keys and walked around the instrument. While she understood the basics—the keys made the hammers hit the strings, and they resonated with the sound—it still amazed her. She had so many questions!
“That’s called the fallboard.” Father pointed to the cover and followed her around.
When she stopped in the big curve on the right side, he lifted the massive lid and placed a leg-looking stick into a rounded upside-down cup on the underside. The lid stayed open and her eyes widened at the glorious construction inside.
“That’s the lid prop. And look. If we want it open, but a bit lower, we simply use the shorter leg.” He smiled, and his eyes danced.
Like she imagined her own must look as she took in her new treasure.
Giggles escaped, and she couldn’t stop them—nor did she wish to.
She ran another circle around the piano, twirled around twice when she reached the bench, and then sat down again with aflounce. She lifted the fallboard and slid her index finger over the lettering and then tested out every one of the keys over and over again. Watching the hammers hit the strings, the reflection of her hands in the ebony mirror of the lid, and the precision of movement—she was in heaven. For a whole year, she’d waited.
And it had finally come.
Music radiated within her. Soon she’d be able to transfer the music from her heart to the keys. She just knew it. Everything was mathematical—and she adored math. Measured in half steps, the keyboard was laid out in a pattern. Different combinations of keys would make chords ... major, minor, augmented, diminished. Everything she’d read came alive before her very eyes.
“Happy birthday, sweetheart.” The faint hint of his French and Dutch ancestry came out in his accent. “We’ve hired a master teacher to come see you. Your first lesson is”—he glanced at his pocket watch just as the chime for the front door rang—“right now.”
Chaisley did her best to stay proper on the bench. “Truly?”
He nodded and tapped the end of her nose. “Let’s see if you can put all that book learning to good use.” He leaned down and whispered in her ear. “Be brave, my little munchkin. He’s a very tall man and looks intimidating, but he’s the best of the best.”
She shifted her gaze back to the six-foot grand piano. Another small giggle escaped her and she placed her hands over her lips as if she held a magical secret. And she did. “Dr. G is very tall too.” Father’s best friend and their family physician—Dr. Grafton—had been bringing her additional books on music for several months. Tchaikovsky’sGuide to the Practical Study of Harmonyand Rameau’sTreatise on Harmonywere her current favorites. Dr. Grafton understood her longing to release the music inside her because he said he had that longing too. Even though she’d never played an instrument in her life, Chaisleyunderstoodmusic.
“Well, I see she is enchanted by her present.” Mum’s voicedrifted into her awareness. “We’ll be in the parlor, sweetheart, if you need us.”
The hour with Monsieur Beaufort fed her soul and opened up her mind to the vast universe of music. And she didn’t have to work at being brave. Several times, she’d caught her teacher with his mouth open. Then he’d mumble under his breath in French that he’d never seen a child as gifted as she.
