A Gentleman's Game

by Rebecca Matthews

The opulence of the majestic theater did not disappoint Darcy. It was a glorious example of Italian architecture, and dwarfed all the structures surrounding it. Darcy was in awe of the amazing building, the richly dressed people, and the glamour of everyone from the waiters who walked around with trays loaded with glasses of champagne, to the costumed performers, to the embellishments of this showpiece building, to the atmosphere of high expectations. Everything smacked of good taste, luxury, and wealth.

  “Did you know this theater was built when Louisiana was still owned by Spain?”

  “Oh what a grand old building! I just love it! I have never seen anything like it before.”

  “Glad you like it.” Cole was unable to rein in his pride and joy at bringing Darcy such obvious happiness.

  He was glad the opera they were going to see was Mignon by Ambroise Thomas of Paris. When the curtain rose, Cole began whispering his explanation of the story to Darcy who kept her opera glasses glued to her face, fixated on what was happening on stage. Their box seats were an ideal viewing spot. From here, she had a bird’s eye view of the performance, the orchestra, and the audience.

  “The main character is Mignon, a young girl who is abducted by gypsies,” Cole whispered softly, taking pleasure in the sheer nearness of her. As he inhaled deeply of her sweet scent, he explained further, “The girl’s father nearly goes insane from losing his daughter and disguises himself as a wandering minstrel to go searching for her from town to town.”

  Darcy was like a child on Christmas morning. Her excitement was palpable as she sat straight and stiff on the edge of her seat. Cole would be content to just sit and look at her, never looking at the stage at all.

  “He finds Mignon but doesn’t realize she is his daughter. She has fallen for Wilhelm, a young man who sings her a lullaby outside her sick room while she is deathly ill. The words are very moving. ‘I’ve soothed the throbbing of her aching heart’.”

  At intermission he asked, “What do you think so far?” He had noticed her dabbing at her eyes during the moving scenes.

  “Ooh, I love it! This is wonderful beyond description. I can’t believe I am here.”

  Seeing her so enthralled made his heart soar. He hoped this would smooth things between them and open the door to her heart just a crack. He would never give up trying to convince her that she belonged with him.

  As a female character walked on the stage, he continued to explain.

  “This is Filina, who wants Wilhelm for herself, even though she knows Mignon is in love with him. Mignon arrives and Wilhelm’s joy at seeing her makes Filina furious, so she sends Mignon to the conservatory for some flowers she had left there. Her cruel treatment and taunting of Mignon causes the hurting girl to proclaim in a fit of rage that she wished a lightning bolt would strike the conservatory and burn it to the ground. Hearing her wish and wanting to please her, her addle-brained father, who is infatuated with her, sets fire to the building.”

  Occasional small oohs and ahhs escaped Darcy’s lips. Her gaze fixed on the stage, she could not see him as he feasted on the vision of her loveliness and her unguarded enjoyment from this close vantage point. What a spectacular specimen of a woman she was! Any man would be proud to cherish and keep her only unto him. He memorized the details of her face while she sat so close to him engrossed in the action on the stage.

  As Act III began, he whispered to her, “Mignon is nearly killed, but Wilhelm risks his life to run into the burning building and save her. The older man wants to take her away with him, still unaware she is his daughter. Wilhelm, who finally realizes he loves her, intervenes and purchases her freedom from the gypsies. At last her father’s head clears, and he realizes Mignon is his daughter.” Cole and Darcy both sat silently, absorbed in the emotional piece sung by the trio of main characters that ended the show.

  “Thank you so much, Cole, for explaining it all to me. I understand very little French. The music was so impressive and moving! I have always loved all types of music, and you have broadened my love of music to now include opera. I felt carried to a world of love and beauty, sacrifice, and chivalry.”

  Out on the street, she looped her arm through his. “Oh, Cole, nothing I can say could adequately thank you for such a marvelous evening.”

  She looked up at him as they strolled arm in arm, and the soft glow of the lamplight on her sweet, smiling face sent his heart reeling. Meekness becomes her, he mused. What a change from her normal apathetic or angry attitude. Have I done that?

  “Oh, we are not done yet. We will have a midnight supper at my hotel before I allow you to retire for the night.”

  She laughed. It was a sound he had never heard before, and he instantly loved it.

  They strolled arm in arm, the way lovers do. Looking down into her emerald eyes, he added, “I am truly glad you enjoyed it. We will go again when a new opera opens, and there are other opera houses in New Orleans. They have many other events at the French Theater: concerts, balls, cotillions, and more.” Excitement crept into his voice. “There is so much for you to see and do, now that you are free of your cage, my beautiful little bird.”

  He lifted her gloved hand to his lips, and despite the material between his skin and hers, the warmth of his lips sent a shockwave through her body, just like on their carriage ride. He was the only one to ever evoke this response from her. It was thrilling, delightful, and somewhat frightening. I could picture myself as the young maiden, Mignon, wooed and won by a virile and strong young man, not unlike Cole. Darcy, guard your heart. You can’t fall for this man!

  During their supper at his hotel, they talked easily, avoiding certain subjects. She laughed as the champagne bubbles tickled her nose. She had only been used to drinking hard liquor. As she sipped the bubbly, she realized that other than a nightcap a few times, she had essentially stopped drinking since Edgar’s murder. This was the first time she became aware that she no longer relied on her familiar panacea.

  “I love this stuff,” she told him of the sparkling wine. “I was downing larger and larger amounts of liquor to tolerate Edgar’s visits to my bed. I needed to be numbed for that ordeal.”

  Then she suddenly stopped and delicately pressed her fingers over her mouth. She was letting confidences slip through her lips again, despite her secret vow to never tell Cole anything more about her sordid past. Something about him drew the words out of her, the same way drawing salve pulls pus out of a wound. His warm and caring attention was extracting and discarding forever the foul residue of a disgusting farce of a marriage.

  In time, she could imagine her wounded spirit totally cleansed by the refreshing spring of his affection. She seemed helpless to prevent it. How did he do it? He did not pry, but something about his presence seemed to open her heart and mind, purging her of the gory past and making healing possible. He was indeed an amazing man, and she was glad he had found her.

  No! No I am not glad. Her head began to ache. Her mind was confused, her thoughts jumbled, and her emotions in a whirl. Should she be grateful or hateful to this man who had appeared at a poker table one night and remained a part of her life ever since? Her laughter ceased, and she emphatically set her glass on the linen tablecloth.

  “I really think I should be getting home now. It has been wonderful, but I really should be going. May we leave now?”

  Her request carried such urgency that she was almost begging him. The sudden desperation in her plea caught him completely off guard. Confused and perplexed at Darcy’s sudden change in demeanor once again, he stared at her, speechless. They had been having such an enjoyable evening, and then without warning that iron gate slammed shut again, just as it did at every encounter. There was no foretelling what would trigger it, but it inevitably came crashing down, spoiling the mood and arresting any progress in their relationship. Each time, he was able to stave it off a little longer than the time before, but it always reappeared.

  Whatever it was that terrified her so that she ran like a scared rabbit, he would wait and wa
tch, and hope and pray for her to get it out of her system. He belonged to her. Now all he had to do was wait for her to belong to him. It required her coming to him of her own free will because she wanted to be with him always, not just for a moment until some demon within chased her away.

  Within minutes of driving away from her door, he was already missing her. He was hopelessly addicted to her, and he did not want to recover. Immediately, he began thinking about their next meeting. He must plan something special. He could hardly wait.

  Darcy walked into the foyer of her mansion home and leaned back against the closed front door. What am I doing? Tonight was wonderful, but I am terrified to let him into my life. I need to stop seeing him. But he is so charming and makes me feel such special feelings I have never known before. Her reverie was interrupted by a sour-faced Eva.

  “So! You finally home! Nearly morning, ya know. I hope you had a good time ’cause I been worried sick ’bout you. Now I go to bed.”

  Disregarding Eva’s dour mood, she was happy to see her friend was still up at this hour. Darcy was eager to share tonight’s experiences.

  “Oh, Eva! Tonight was wonderful. The opera was...”

  “I don’t want to hear about it,” Eva snapped, holding her arm up, fingers splayed, palm out. Turning on her heels, she retreated hastily, practically running up the stairs.

  Darcy followed with determined footsteps. “I know it is late, but Eva you and I need to talk. I must know why you are so vehemently against my seeing Cole. There is something you haven’t told me that accounts for you acting this way. I need to know, Eva. I want to know. We have shared so many things with each other that we have never told another living being, but you are holding something back, something that has made you bitter and angry at the entire male population. This is more than just Edgar’s treatment of you. Tell me, Eva. Tell me now!” She had followed Eva to her room. Her tone was firm and authoritative, and her voice had gotten more determined with each subsequent step.

  Eva’s shoulders drooped, and she sank down in the small needlepoint rocker.

  Darcy hoisted her backside up onto Eva’s four-post bed and waited.

  “Well, all right. I don’t want you mad with me.” Eva paused and took a slow, deep breath. “It was during the war. My family, we lived in a nice house in northern Louisiana. My Papa, ooh he was so strong and so handsome. His skin was shiny, brown, and smooth just like a pecan shell, and he was tall and slender like a ponderosa pine. He was my world.”

  Darcy could feel Eva’s love and pride as she spoke of her beloved father.

  “My mama was a tiny Creole, as feisty as a honey badger, but oh how Papa loved her. My brother and little sister and I were all so happy. Whenever Mama tried to punish us with her switch, we would run and hide behind Papa. He would walk up to Mama and give her one of his big, beautiful smiles, and soon they was kissing and laughing and the switch lay forgotten on the ground.

  “Then one day when I was eleven, my little brother and sister was five and seven, the Yankees come. They eyed my mama like hungry wolves, licking their lips. Papa told them to leave her be. They say they would leave her alone and take me instead. Papa shouted at those devils to leave me be, but they shot him dead before he took one step. The one in charge told two of his men to hold me down, and three others held my mama down on the ground. Before we knew what was happening, he shot my brother and sister like dogs. Then the evil bastard said they was all gonna have a turn at Mama and me. I know if she cudda gotten loose, she wudda killed them with her bare hands. She toll them they was filthy swine and were never gonna touch her or me.

  “The biggest, meanest one toll her, ‘Oh you think you are too good for me?’ Then he grabbed his pistol, cocked the hammer, and in a split second he rammed it up her ‘down there’ and fired. I screamed and fainted, and I am so glad I did. When I come to, I figured each one of the bastards had me. I was torn and bleeding like crazy, and my whole family was dead. I guess those bastards thought I was dead, or would die soon enough so no need to waste a bullet on me. Oh, how I wish they had shot me to death. It would have been so much better for me.

  “Somehow, I got myself to a neighbor two miles away. I don’t know if it took me hours or days to get there. They called for the doctorin’ woman to come. She say I would never be able to have chilluns’ or ever enjoy bein’ with a man. That was fine with me, ’cause I never wanted to be with one after what happened. Not ever! After a time, they sold me to a man who gathered up orphans and folks who had no one and no way to take care of themselves to be sold into indentured service. I was an orphan. No one wanted me. I was just an extra mouth to feed. So I had no choice but to go with him.

  “In time, the torn up parts healed, but the scars of what they did never left here.” She tapped her temple. “I ain’t never wanted anything to do with a man since. Lordy, no! When Edgar come to me, it was like it was happenin’ all over again, only I was awake this time. I toll him I was torn up down there, and what he was doin’ hurt me somethin’ awful, but he did not care. I hated him with every breath I took. I still do.” Eva, full of bitter hatred, sounded very old and tired by the time she finished.

  “Oh, Eva! How awful. No wonder you hate men. You poor dear! I am so very sorry. I wish there was some way I could take back what has happened to you.”

  Eva slumped over, her face buried in her palms, weeping.

  Darcy rushed to Eva’s side and fell down on her knees beside her. Holding her friend close, Darcy rocked her back and forth, crooning to her softly, like a mother comforting a child after a nightmare.

  “I am glad he is dead Eva. Not for what he did to me, but for what he did to you.” After a few minutes of consoling her dear friend, she spoke softly, tentatively. “Eva, Southern men are not like those Yankee murderers…or like Edgar.” She immediately felt Eva stiffen within her embrace.

  “I will never know. I say who touches me now, and I swear before the Holy Mother no man ever gonna touch me again!”

  Darcy sat back on her haunches looking into her friend’s tormented face. “I understand, and I don’t blame you. Will you forever and always hold it against me if I should someday find a man worth loving who loves me back?”

  Eva just stared at her friend blankly as if she were unable to understand a word she had just said.

  “Eva?”

  Again, no response, just vacant holes in the front of her head where her shiny, black eyes should be. Her face as blank as a sheet of parchment.

  It is best to just let this subject rest for a while. The poor dear. Her tale of horror did explain a lot. How stoic and brave she has been to tolerate Edgar’s perverted sexual behavior considering all she suffered. My poor, dear Eva.

  Dawn was breaking, and although Darcy was weary, her mind was buzzing with what she had seen and heard the past few hours. Her soul danced with joy at the remarkable evening she had enjoyed with Cole, yet her heart was heavy at Eva’s revelation. As horrifying as it was, Darcy was relieved that Eva finally revealed this tragic secret of her past. Unfortunately, Darcy was at a loss how to help her friend, leaving her feeling frustrated and helpless.

  Thoughts of Cole and their wonderful evening filled with romance, elegance, and song filled her with warmth and happiness, yet she could not entirely dismiss her nagging distrust of men, thanks to Edgar. Cole had sworn to do anything for her. Could it be there truly is a man out there like Wilhelm in the opera, who will brave a raging inferno to rescue his ladylove from certain death? Darcy replayed the entire evening from start to finish. It was an absolute dream come true for a poor share cropper’s daughter from Mississippi.

  It seemed Cole was slowly and patiently peeling away the layers of hurt, hate, suspicion, and fear that constituted Darcy’s attitude toward men. Time would tell, but someday a long time from now she might consider the possibility of a relationship with Cole.

  That brought about another whole set of problems summed up in one word—Eva. Darcy could not bear the thought of hurting h
er friend more than she had been hurt already, but what would Darcy do if her friendship with Eva became an obstacle to Darcy’s own happiness? This and a million other questions raced through her mind as answers and sleep eluded her.

  The next day a courier arrived with a bouquet of beautiful flowers for Darcy with a note Thank you for a wonderful evening. I look forward to next time. Affectionately, Cole.

  The fluttering of her heart was like hummingbird wings within her chest. Her cheeks burned, and she could not deny the warmth spreading upward throughout her body. This man definitely knew how to woo a woman, but if he would win her remained a mystery.

  Eva came downstairs a few minutes later and seeing the flowers, snorted and walked away.

  Oh, Eva. Darcy sighed. How could I ever choose between you and Cole? Please don’t make me. Darcy held the card over her heart and could not stop smiling. What was Cole up to? Does he truly care for me, or does he have ulterior motives? She wanted to believe the former, but her suspicious nature swayed her toward the latter.

  Oh, how I wish there was some way to prove if he was really sincere. What if I waste so much time being suspicious and second-guessing him that I throw away my chance to be happy and whole? Cole treats me as if I were some treasured jewel deserving a place of honor, on a pedestal for some reason. Nothing I can say seems to dissuade him, and I could certainly get used to this. There had never been time or opportunity for such frivolous things as courting prior to being married off to Edgar. There was just work, work, and more work for the sake of survival. Life was just something to get through, not enjoy along the way. At any rate, she was certainly flattered by his persistent attention. Laughing at her own foolishness, she sighed deeply and went to put the flowers in water.

  Like clockwork, two weeks later there was a knock at the door.

  Eva refused to answer the knock, in case it was Cole. Eva wore her disdain for Darcy’s ardent admirer like a bright, red flag, and called for Carrie to answer the door

  When Darcy arrived at the entryway where Cole stood waiting patiently for her, she could not hide her pleasure at seeing him again. It had been a long two weeks!