I must sing. She took a deep breath and mustered all of her inner discipline.
The audience demands it.
65
Seductress
“I will make her my wife
without delay”
- The Barber of Seville by Gioachino Rossini
“Perhaps you should sing tomorrow, my love, when you are rested.”
Which would never come. He opened his mouth to protest. They had only been in the bridal suite several hours, and yet he was drained of all energy. If he did not perform his marital duties soon, he might not be able to. And he desperately did not wish to disappoint his bride further.
And yet I cannot. There is no honor in it. Alejandro still believed the annulment was the only answer. In which case he could not take her to bed. Nicolette would never be happy with this life, and he could not be happy if he had resigned her to misery.
Perhaps it will all work out for the best if I am too exhausted to perform my duty.
“Are you refusing my wedding gift?” she demanded, spinning towards him, fury written across her expression.
That is the girl I know. My love. Alejandro could not help himself. Amusement tugged on his lips. “Naturally I cannot refuse my queen anything.”
“Good. I trust you shall have occasion to use those words again in the near future.”
Alejandro smiled for the first time in many hours as his curiosity grew. He watched Nicolette busying herself and pulling out of her portmanteau a sheer white chiffon scarf some five feet in length.
What in blazes is that? Next emerged an elegant walking stick with a carved white marble handle.
Alejandro loved watching Nicolette acting quite at home in the sitting area of his suite. He pretended she now belonged here in this mix of Grecian columns, stone, wood, and stained glass.
Pretending she would stay.
Returning from her dressing room she was a vision in white in the most seductive gown he had ever beheld. She wore a dressing gown of white batiste to which alternate rows of embroidered and tucked bands gathered just under her exquisite bosom. The gown crossed her breasts and trailed all the way down the front of her night gown, opening over a plaited flounce accented by a white satin ribbon drawn through the border. The same ribbon circled her elbow, accenting flowing sleeves trimmed with tucks and gathered frill.
She was exquisitely beautiful.
She is mine. At least for tonight. He pretended he could take her, knowing he could not.
I love her. The words moved round in his mind. She was ever one to surprise and entice him, but the words kept stabbing him over and over again.
Quietly she announced, “I will now sing an excerpt from Gilbert & Sullivan's ‘The Grand Duke’. I shall sing both the part of the Duke and his new bride.”
Nicolette leaned the walking stick against the wall.
While he still reveled in the feeling of amusement and wonder, without more than the slightest pause she waived the scarf alluringly in front of her body. Her movement was womanly and seductive, leaving no doubt she was singing the part of the Duchess.
“And now that everyone has departed,
and we’re happily and comfortably married,
I wish to have a few words
With my new husband.”
Her mannerisms were coquettish and winsome as she swayed.
In an instant, she picked up the cane, hiding the scarf from view, lowering her voice, and assuming an authoritative gait.
“Knowing you as I do,
I expect you’ll often have a few words
For your new husband, Julia.
And for everyone.”
Alejandro was surprised how easily she drew him into the Duke's part, even in a flowing white gown. Nicolette Genevieve did sing in over three octaves, after all, easily encompassing the tenor's part.
And she is a superb actress.
She never ceases to amaze me.
Nicolette embellished Julia's role with bel canto flourishments, making it decidedly beautiful and feminine in presentation.
“Ludwig,
I’ve been considering
How I can make the most of my position
As Grand Duchess.”
The sword stick tapped the floor.
“I shouldn’t make it one of your
hoity-toity vixenish viragoes,
Julia.”
She lowered her eyes from behind the scarf and then walked several feet, dragging the long, sheer scarf behind her. Suddenly she turned and looked back at him, lifting one voluptuous hip as she did so.
Alejandro felt himself getting warm under the collar. I wish she wouldn’t do that.
Despite his extreme amusement and curiosity, he began to forget he had no intention of bedding her this night.
She is so incredibly desirable.
“Should you not,
Ludwig?
Do tell.
I know you will with or without my encouragement.”
The Duke twirled the cane in a distinctively pompous manner.
“Oh, I’m quite clear about that,
Julia.
The Grand Duchess is not too clingy.
She’s a child-wife timidly anxious
To coil herself
Into her husband’s heart.
But kept in check by an awestruck reverence
For his exalted intellectual qualities
And majestic personal appearance.”
Alejandro burst into laughter, when not so long ago he had wondered if he would ever laugh again. The scarf went round her shoulders like a shawl, then trailed in front of her eyes, now alight with mischief.
“You don't say, Ludwig.”
Alejandro laughed spontaneously as Nicolette, in turn, feigned airs of innocence and naivety while, at the same time, leaving no doubt that ignoring her wishes would be quite detrimental to her husband's continued happiness.
I begin to see the correlation. There might be a veil in her presentation, but the message was not that veiled. Alejandro chuckled to himself.
He had always disliked the comedic operas. His life was serious and amusement was an indulgence he couldn’t afford.
At the moment delight was necessary to his survival.
“Is there anything else that would please my husband, the Duke?”
“I’m glad you should ask,
Julia.
A wife who regards my slightest wish
as an inflexible law.
Who ventures but rarely
into my august presence,
Unless I should summon her
to appear before me.
A crushed, despairing violet.”
“I can see that you would like that, Ludwig.”
She threw the scarf into the air and let it slide down her hair, her shoulders, her hips, until it fell upon the floor, emulating a woman undressing.
Alejandro found his heart was beating faster, perspiration rolling down his forehead.
“There is a good deal to be said
For your view of it, Ludwig.
And it shall not be long before I say it.”
Her lips pouted provocatively. Alejandro took out his handkerchief and patted his forehead.
“My dear, Ludwig,
I feel I must warn you
There are some instances
which would necessarily result in strong scenes
of justifiable jealousy.”
Nicolette presented these simple words with the most phenomenal run of scales Alejandro had ever heard, adding emphasis while creating beautiful music. It was a travesty the world could not hear it, so exquisite was her rendition.
How can she perform with such perfectionism when she must surely be exhausted? Where she found her reserves of energy, Alejandro did not know.
She is the consummate performer.
“There’s no difficulty about providing scenes provoking jealousy, Julia.
I could never deprive you of anything.”
“With a lovely but detested rival.”
The Duke assumed a smug expression.
“Oh, I’ll provide the rival, Julia.
Never fear.”
Suddenly Nicolette pulled the scarf tightly between both arms, almost making it pop.
“Whom I should honor
with a fencing lesson!”
Nicolette took the cane and pulled out the sword, stabbing the air. Even though the sword was the Duke's prop, it was clear what she meant: this was Julia’s response.
Again Nicolette displayed the range of her trills and scales, absolutely astonishing with the beauty of her voice and her delivery.
She laughed and cajoled, and Alejandro was right there with her, completely immersed in her performance, present with her in all respects, sharing her emotions.
He was certain, along with the soprano, she would be victorious in the end. She would accomplish whatever she set out to do. He experienced the pleasure of knowing one's own power. He felt joy.
He had wondered if he ever would again.
In an instant Nicolette transformed to the Duke.
“Oh, I wouldn’t stab her, Julia.
It’s been done to death.”
“Then what do you suggest, my love? Should I stab you instead?”
The Duke strutted with his cane.
“None of that, my sweet lamb.
Most unladylike.
I should treat your rival
With a silent and contemptuous disdain,
And delicately withdraw from an awkward scene
which, to one of your sensitive nature,
would be disagreeably vexatious.”
“Should you, my darling Ludwig?
For myself—
I fear not.
Far from being disagreeable,
It would be my delight
And indeed my obligation
to dispose of her
in the most public and uncivilized manner
Imaginable.”
Nicolette leaned close to Alejandro’s face, and he could feel her breath on his ear as she sang.
“Do you know now what will happen if you ever stray from me, my husband?” It was Nicolette speaking to him now. She was telling him he was hers.
And no one else’s.
“Nicolette, you must leave in the morning, it isn’t safe.”
“Have you learned nothing, my love?” She leaned towards him, revealing full, gorgeous breasts.
Oh, my God.
She was telling him she fully embraced this marriage.
Everything has changed. Nothing has changed.
She is mine.
“How could I ever want anyone else when I have you, mi cielita?” He felt love in his heart. And desire.
Nicolette pulled away. For that, he was sorry.
She curtseyed and he nodded his approval. She had played both parts so expertly and with such believability, transitioning back and forth before his eyes.
In only a few moments she had exposed feelings which were heavily weighing on him. Once she had released them, she had replaced them with joy and hope.
She pulled the pins out of her hair.
“Is this another performance?” His mouth grew dry.
Slowly she began undressing before him, her breasts almost entirely exposed, rich and full.
“No,” she said softly. “My performance is complete.” She pulled the edge of her gown over her shoulder.
“I suppose it is time for mine.” He felt his resolve to release her fade away.
She lifted her gown up past her knees, revealing beautifully shaped legs—legs he had never seen before—and began to sway as she had swayed in Bizet's Carmen.
He had offered to pay an emerald necklace for this private performance not so long ago, which she he had told him was not for sale.
Nicolette swayed and danced. She turned and looked over her shoulder at him, her red lips parting slightly.
She was an exquisite mix of girlish coquette and mature woman. The most enticing woman he had ever known.
She did not sing. But Alejandro was suddenly struck with the truth: On the most painful day of her life she is offering herself to me as a gift for my soul.
Can it truly be possible she is my Queen?
Not yet, she isn’t.
He forgot his own grief. He began to forget everything as he was swept up in her pure intoxicating sensuality. Though it wasn't her purpose, she was about to experience every pleasure a woman's body could know.
As his anticipation grew the realization struck him this was not a performance. This time it was real, and the idea excited every fiber of his being.
She is seducing me.
And she would succeed. This incomparable seductress was his wife. At least for tonight.
She utilized every feminine wile available to her, having a considerable repertoire. Cutting her dance short, Alejandro picked her up and took her to their marriage bed where he proceeded to do all within his power to make her forget.
And to remind her she deserved to be treated like a queen—and always would be, as long as they were together.
More than anything in the world, Alejandro wanted to erase the memory from her mind of what should have been a magical day. He wanted to replace that memory with the memory of his making sweet, sensual love to her. He wanted everything in her world to be beautiful and dear: as beautiful and dear as she was to him.
She was the only light in his life and the love he had waited all his life for.
Nicolette Genevieve Huntington was the only thing in his life he had chosen. He was not about to let her wait another second for an expression of his love.
66
To the Devil
“To the Devil
With all this chattering!”
—CARMEN by Georges Bizet
His lips came down on hers, and she found herself swimming in sensation. It had taken everything she had to divert Alejandro's attention, though she had been in no mood for anything but an endless sleep.
Suddenly she felt very alive indeed.
Oh, I have waited so long for this. His lips caressed and coaxed every inch of her body. To be next to him, to feel his lips on hers, to be touched by him.
To be his and only his. Never had she imagined the thrill it would give her knowing that Alejandro was her husband.
Each time their lips touched, she reveled in the joy of being desired by him and time stood still. At this moment, nothing existed in the world but this man. She looked into deep brown eyes, alive with warmth, acknowledging her, opening to her, laying his soul bare before her.
His hair fell into his eyes and there was sweat on his forehead. She could hear his heart pounding, but still he caressed every inch of her, slowly, deliberately, tenderly.
Gingerly he lowered her gown over her shoulders exposing her breasts. He paused to look at her, smiling with satisfaction.
“Beautiful,” he murmured.
He took both hands and gently pushed them together, reveling in the fullness. Even as he suckled her, he gently massaged her lower body with his manliness, caressing and arousing her.
“Alejandro,” she whispered breathlessly.
She moved her body with him, longing for him, not understanding these new sensations.
As every exposed and unexposed surface tingled, each new touch sent a rush of pleasure through her body.
There could be no doubt left in her mind that her husband was skilled in love-making. But this was not what thrilled her. She knew with each touch that it was not a mechanical exercise for him.
He saw her. He was with her. He loved her. And, most surprising of all, he trusted her.
She could feel his heart beating faster and his body hardening as he bent over her, both of them sinking into the feather mattress. There would be time for a leisurely love-making for the rest of her lif
e. For now, she wanted him, and with no further delays. She stroked him, and he moaned.
“No, Nicolette, not yet,” he barely managed.
“Now,” she commanded in a whisper. She stroked him again, gingerly running her finger along the tip of his shaft. He groaned, and she put both hands on his face and brought him to her, kissing him deeply.
As they kissed, he entered her slowly. She winced, and he began to withdraw. She put her hands on his hips and pushed him towards her with force, gasping.
“Nicolette,” he whispered, “Are you ready?”
“Oh, yes,” she exclaimed.
He increased his pace to match her need—and his own. A wave of pleasure washed over her. He shook, and, in that moment, she felt the supreme satisfaction of knowing she was Alejandro's wife.
It is pure bliss.
67
Illuminated
“He who wanders
This street
Full of hardship
Becomes clean
Through fire, water, air, and earth
If he the terror of Death
can overcome
He vaults from the earth heavenward
Illuminated.”
- THE MAGIC FLUTE by Amadeus Wolfgang Mozart
He was on a galleon sailing ship on a moonlit night, alone on the starboard deck. Two enormous masts extended from the center of the ship, both flowing in syncopation with the waves, threatening to fly free.
Ropes, pulleys, and ladders attached various parts of the masts to the deck below, fighting their apparent desire to free themselves and swirl up to the heavens. It was their constant fight which propelled the ship forward, that perfect balance between subjugation and struggle.
The Serenade: The Prince and the Siren Page 45