The Opera Singer's Daughter (A Sherlock Holmes Spin-Off Novel)

Chapter One

1902

Chest heaving and heart pounding, I ran as fast as my skirt would allow. I dodged and ducked around passersby to keep from losing any bit of momentum. A crate, left out by a busy storekeeper, loomed in front of me, and I was forced to leap over it. My height of five feet and five inches made this an easy enough feat. Gasps filled the air in my wake as my boots landed solidly on the ground.

The sight of a fourteen-year-old young lady racing along the pavement was not a typical one, I would grant, let alone one who had an armful of sheet music clutched to her chest. Still, it wasn't as though I was causing any problems. Well, not a real problem. The real problem would be if I was late. Signori Bianchi would have me singing nothing but scales for a week.

A stitch in my side made me regret the pastries I'd consumed during tea. If I'd had any idea I would be racing time itself, I might have been more moderate in what I ate.

And why, oh why, had I allowed the maid to lace me up so tightly?

Though not as tightly laced as some fashion dictated, my school uniform was not made for this kind of strenuous activity.

I had spent too long trying to convince Constable Higgins to tell me what leads he had about the latest series of thefts in the area and now my legs were paying for it.

My boots skidded several inches when I came to a stop in front of my destination, Regaining my balance, I hurried up the stone steps and rang the doorbell. I braced myself against the door frame to get my breath back.

The church bells rang out as the door opened. "Good day, Mrs. Williams," I said, straightening up. "I hope you are well today."

Mrs. Williams raised an eyebrow and shook her head as she stepped aside. "You're late, Miss Norton."

"No. I'm not," I said, unable to not sound as though I was out of breath. "It is four o'clock exactly. You can hear the bells ringing now, I am sure." I paused, letting the distant church bells prove my point for me. "This is the time for my appointment with Maestro Bianchi."

"Don't try to talk me into circles," the woman warned as I entered the house. "I am well aware of your sweet talking ways, Miss Aida Norton, but it's not me you have to convince. It's Signori Bianchi himself. You know what he thinks about tardiness."

Any hope I had of her putting in a good word for me died as she closed the door and then walked away. My heart thudded heavily in my chest as I moved to the parlor to await my music teacher. I sank onto the familiar green velvet settee, grateful for a moment to rest my feet after my run.

I'd barely taken a breath when the pocket door connecting the parlor to the music room was shoved open. I lunged back onto my feet to curtsy. "You are late," Signori Luca Bianchi said without a word of greeting. "I've warned you once before."

How could he know that? He heard the doorbell and I hadn't said a word, so he couldn't know I was out of breath. Had he heard the door open? Mrs. Williams hadn't spoken to him in the other room; I would have at least heard her voice if she had. What gave me away?

"Good afternoon, Signori Bianchi," I said, resisting the urge to protest the accusation. "Is four o'clock not our usual appointment?"

His dark brown eyes peered at me, his forehead furrowed with disapproval. "Do you expect your voice to be at its best when you are unable to breathe in the proper way?"

"No, Maestro," I said reluctantly. "I lost track of the time, but I was not late! I know how much you dislike tardiness."

"Come." He spun on his heel and strode back into the room where we had our lessons.