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Mark stared at the woman,who was younger than he’d expected at first. Yesterday when he’d seen her, her mannerisms and demeanor made him think she was in her thirties, but up close, he could see she was much younger. Very early twenties, most likely. Something about her spirit made his heart ache for her, and she wore it like a heavy winter coat. What could make a woman appear so sad at such a young age? Her eyes, as beautiful as he remembered, were full of a deep sorrow he wanted to somehow make disappear.
As he’d played and he’d gazed into her eyes, the heaviness had lifted and she’d appeared light and free. Now she seemed sad again. And incredibly nervous.
“Most people don’t experience music like I saw you doing.”
Her cheeks turned pink and she gave a small shrug. “Like I said, I haven’t heard music like yours in a long time.”
Her words saddened him. Music had fallen out of favor with the general public, especially the younger generation. Well, classical music. Popular music was everywhere these days. There was a place for that kind of music, but the music of the great masters... It was eternal and profound. It cut through language and cultural barriers like nothing else could. It could heal and elicit emotions like nothing else.
She stared at his violin, a longing in her eyes. “It’s a beautiful instrument. Who made it?”
“Guarneri.”
“Wow,” she whispered. She lifted her hand and began to reach out, but snapped her hand back to her chest. “Sorry.”
He held it out to her. “You can hold it if you’d like.” He could catch her if she ran off with it. She wasn’t very tall.
“No, I couldn’t.” She shook her head. “It’s too precious.”
There was awe in her voice and he drew his brows together. Many non-musicians were familiar with Strads. Few had ever heard of Guarneri. Very few. “Are you a musician?” he asked again.
She blinked. “No.” She reached for the bags at her feet and stood. “I need to go.”
“Wait!” He jumped to his feet as she turned away.
She turned back around, fear in her eyes.
“No, I...” He let out a frustrated breath. “Do you— Are you in a hurry? Wanna... get some coffee or something?”
Her eyes widened. She glanced at the violin and back into his face. She shook her head. “I can’t.”
Disappointment laced around his heart. “Another time?”
She gave a slight shake of her head, glancing once more at the violin. “I can’t,” she whispered and turned away.
She was walking away. He couldn’t let her go without finding out... “What’s your name?”
She paused and turned back around, searching his face once more. “Emily.”
A smile crept across his face. “Emily.” It fit her.
She gave a tight smile and hurried away.
He returned to where he’d left his case near the wall, repeating her name in his head. He put the violin to his shoulder and began Vaughan Williams’The Lark Ascending3, his bow floating across his violin strings like the wings of the bird the music sang of.
Fifteen
Emily wincedas she stretched in bed. Last night’s visitor had been cruel. Thankfully, he hadn’t stayed the night.
She trudged to the bathroom and grimaced at her image in the mirror. Her hair stuck out at odd angles. At least she didn’t have makeup smeared around her face. She started the water in the shower and leaned against the vanity as she waited for the water to warm up.
As the steam rolled through the bathroom, she stepped into the hot water, bringing the temperature down a touch so her skin didn’t burn. The warmth soothed the aches in her body, though if she turned in the wrong direction, the stream hit the fresh bruises and she groaned at the pain.
She didn’t have to be at work until this evening and longed to explore her new neighborhood. Her new condo was much closer to the National Mall and all the joys it contained. Thursdays in DC tended to be busier than earlier in the week because of long tourist weekends, but it was still blissful to walk around.
She could indulge in a visit to the Smithsonian and check out their updated violin exhibition. She’d just learned about it a few weeks ago and was eager to see the beautiful collection.
Or maybe she’d walk over to the Kennedy Center. Though the idea of going to a concert made her stomach churn, it was still one of her favorite places in the city.
