by Megan Chance
Johnny said, “You never told me about the musician.”
I felt a little flutter of anxiety. “Didn’t I?”
“I’m pretty sure you didn’t.”
“It was a long time ago.”
“Well, it explains Faust, don’t it?”
Softly, I said, “Whatever I know can only work to our advantage. Does it matter how I came to it?”
“No,” he said, and then, again, “no, I guess it don’t.” He stopped, and when I stopped with him, he took my arm and pulled me close. His eyes were burning in the darkness. I thought he would kiss me, but instead he only said, “We’re going to make this work, ain’t we, honey? We’re going to have our theater. You and me, together.”
His voice was thick with a raw kind of desire I recognized, that yearning for something more, something bigger. I felt the past at my back like a menacing shadow, the piercing nip of my own ambition, and for a moment, I was afraid. But when I drew back, he cupped my chin in his hand, his fingers hurting where they pressed into my jaw, and he said, “We’re partners, ain’t we?”
“Yes, of course.”
“Then I want you to promise me one thing.” I tried to pull away. He held me fast. “What?”
“That you will not tell me another fucking lie.”
The danger of him was so thick I could not move. Immediately the choir came into my head, the things I’d told Charlotte, the lie of my own life, and I swallowed and whispered, because he gave me no choice, “All right.”
He released me. And I knew then I must refuse the invitation to sing in Trinity’s choir. The risk was too great; I could not afford it.
From the Journal of Sabine Conrad
MARCH 10, 1874—These last weeks we have been auditioning singers for the company, which is very taxing work. Although Gideon has done most of it, I must be there sometimes so we can find the voices that best showcase mine. I am astonished at how many singers are managed by their husbands, and I think it very stupid of them, as one wonders why they could not find a proper manager. I think it much better to be like Gideon and me, who do not need marriage vows to bind us.
But now, finally, the Price Company is complete. For tenors, we have signed Adriano Torriani, whom Gideon and I both saw at the Manchetti, believe it or not! and Yuri Blanov, who has just come to this country from Russia. There is also Jose Herrera, who will do the comprimario parts and understudy. For sopranos there is me and Amelia Maresi, who has sung for Strakosch’s troupe. Leila Svensson (who is very young and pretty) is our mezzo and understudy. Our basso is Taddeo Nannetti.
Gideon says we will add more as the tour commences, but that this is the core group and will do quite satisfactorily for now.
Leonard has graciously allowed us to rehearse in his theater, and he comes to watch and seems happy with his investment. Gideon is much harder on me when Leonard is there; today he told me I was forcing in the passaggio, which I was not, and that my trills in the cantabile were too harsh. Leonard told him that I was perfect, and Gideon asked stiffly if Leonard would prefer to be the maestro, and I had to whisper to Gideon to take care and make excuses for him to Leonard after.
Leonard has since given us two more cheques. One would hardly know the city is in such despair by the way he spends his money and the parties that are held nearly every night. He squires me about everywhere now, and we are known as a very amusing couple. Gideon says nothing, though I know he does not like it. But he is so busy now arranging tours and choosing our program that he has little time left for me. Without Leonard, I’m sure I would do nothing at all!
It would be perfect if not for Gideon’s distraction and the fact that Leonard expects me in his bed. Still, it avails us the money we need, and when the tour starts, Leonard will find some other soprano to adorn his arm, and everything will be back to the way it was.
MARCH 16, 1874—Gideon has decided we will perform La Trav, Aida, Don Giovanni, and Lucia, and will possibly add others, depending upon the reception of the tour. An ambitious program, and he is very nervous, but I have told him he has chosen such popular operas that we cannot help but draw the crowds, because although the streets are thick with beggars and “To Let” signs are posted in windows everywhere, the rich are still rich in every city. Also, Aida is so new that no one outside of New York has seen it in America, and so they will all be curious because everyone loves Verdi.
He has settled dates in many cities, including Havana! Amelia Maresi and I have toured often enough that it is nothing new to us, but Leila Svensson is so fluttery and anxious that Gideon has had to schedule rehearsals for her alone. She is such a stupid girl. If she did not have such a good voice to complement mine I am certain he would let her go before we even leave.
MAY 13, 1874—We are a success in Brooklyn! Though I had not let Gideon see it, I was worried, because the economy is so bad and I was afraid the crowds would be small. But, as he said, I am becoming so well known that people will spend their savings to see me. We sold out every night, and the newspaper notices were very good. One said: “Now that Mr. Price’s art ists have been shown to the public, we are free to congratulate the impresario on his ear for talent and his genius for production.”
We leave tomorrow for the tour, and I was relieved to say good-bye to Leonard. He looked very sad, and gifted me with an exquisite necklace of pink diamonds and a bracelet to match, which may be my favorite of all the gifts he has given me. He tells me to write to him (which of course I shall have to do, as Gideon must send him percentages), and he looks forward to my return in the fall. I have not told him that I don’t know if I will be returning in the fall, or that even if I do I doubt I shall be his lover. He looked so distraught at the thought of my leaving that I was very sweet to him instead.
NEW ORLEANS, JULY 15, 1874—Today is my twentieth birthday, and we are back in the French Quarter after spending six days in Havana, which was stranger and more delightful than anyplace I’ve ever been. There were men outside the backstage door every night, and when I came out they threw flowers and ribbons and swore they loved me and every time I passed they reached to touch me. One man even cut off a small piece of my hair as I went by and then held it up for all his friends to see and told me it looked made of spun gold and he would keep it forever.
Gifts came to my room every day—jewels and flowers and pretty ribbons, and I have given some to Amelia and Leila too, because there are too many for me to have alone. (Though I have lost one of my favorites—a jeweled ivory fan—and cannot find it anywhere.)
I enjoyed Havana very much, but I love New Orleans too, because here they love Gideon as much as they love me. We have been feted at the homes of the very best of Creole society, and I have grown very jealous at the way all those dark-eyed women flirt with him and he is very charming in return—almost too much so, I think. But he deserves this, because he has been so very brilliant in conceiving this tour, and everyone in the company loves him. I hate how secret we must be, and I long for the world to know what we are to each other. But Gideon only laughs when I say this to him and says not yet, that we are not yet secure enough. Then he kisses me and asks how much I like pink diamonds. I confess I like them very, very well indeed.
AUGUST 10, 1874—Gideon has been so distracted and tense of late that everyone feels it. I don’t know why it is so, as we are nearly selling out each venue we play. But he has hardly spent any time with me, and I am very anxious over it. Last night, I begged him to take me somewhere just to have fun, and he was very impatient and said he could not be squiring me around everywhere as he was too busy trying to make our dreams come true.
I was very hurt. Sometimes I miss Barret. Oh, not the fights, but the way he would come to my room and talk with me. Without him or Gideon to distract me, the days seem very long.
SEPTEMBER 4, 1874—Yesterday Taddeo threatened to leave the company. He and Gideon fought during rehearsal over something stupid. Amelia told me that Taddeo has been in love with me since before the tour began, and that
he has been looking for an excuse to leave because I hardly look at him and he is heartbroken.
I was surprised—Taddeo has always been a gentleman, and I love playing Donna Anna to his Don Giovanni because he is so passionate. I didn’t realize he was so passionate because he was in love with me. Amelia said she thought Taddeo could be moved by any appeal I might make to him, and as the rest of the company liked him very much, would I make the attempt?
So I did. It took some time and much pretty talk, but I flattered Taddeo into staying. But Gideon was very angry. He said I had no right to interfere with Taddeo without talking to him first, that he had let him go and had been auditioning bassos for the last three hours and hired two, so that now he had three and what was he to do with them? I told him to let one of the new ones go because I liked singing with Taddeo, and he said he would not keep a singer who spent his hours making calf-eyes at me and asked how exactly had I convinced him to stay?
He was very offensive. I was so angry I broke into tears, and I could tell Gideon was very frustrated. When he took me into his arms I stayed very stiff and angry, and then he whispered that he was sorry, but the company took a great deal of his time and patience, and he must be able to trust that I was not working against him. Which I did not mean to do! I told him Amelia had asked me to speak to Taddeo. Gideon said that the others in the troupe would not watch out for me the way he does. He says I don’t realize how important I am and how people will try to use me.
I felt very stupid then, and told him I would be more careful, and he kissed me and was very gentle and loving again.
* * *
N.B. When I went to dress for dinner I saw that the earrings I’d left on the dressing table were gone. I have searched everywhere for them. Gideon says I must have mislaid them, but they were very large emeralds and I do not see how I could.
ST. LOUIS, OCTOBER 10, 1874—Besides the fan and earrings, my golden locket is missing, and two brooches and one of my favorite rings. Gideon says perhaps it’s the maid, but I snapped at him that there was a different maid in every hotel, and I doubted they were in collusion. He does not seem to think it matters, but I am extremely frustrated.
OCTOBER 15, 1874—Last night I told Gideon that I thought Leila was stealing from me, and he said I must be mistaken, and why would she do such a thing? I told him that I saw how she flirted with him and he said I was acting like a jealous wife, and I asked him if I had a reason to be jealous. He said no, of course not, and then I said I wanted him to prove it by letting her go.
He said he wouldn’t punish her for my stupid suspicions and that if I didn’t believe him then I must not love him and that he had more reason to be jealous of me and Taddeo than I did of him and Leila. Then we had a terrible fight. I screamed at him and he told me to mind my voice and I told him to go to hell. He slammed his hand against the wall and went out, and when he left I lay on my bed and cried until I was quite hoarse, and my voice was completely gone. Amelia had to sing for me, which only made everything worse. It is at times like these that I need to sing, because I can lose myself in it and it soothes me as nothing else does.
I fell asleep, and when I woke, he had come into the room. It was late, after the performance, and he sat down beside me and handed me a jewel box. He said he had meant to give it to me next week, but he wanted me to have it now. It was a brooch, a circlet of filigree studded with sapphires to look like the night sky, with one large pearl to serve as the moon and stars made of diamonds—six of them; one for each year we had known each other, he said, because we had met on October 25th the year I was fourteen (how had he remembered that when even I had forgotten?!), and he said he would have one added each year from now on.
It was so romantic and beautiful that I burst into tears. He took me in his arms and kissed them away, and then he helped me pin it on, and said he was sorry, that he did not mean to make me unhappy, but it hurt that I didn’t trust him, and I said I did trust him, that I had been a fool, that of course Leila could stay.
Much later, after he had fallen asleep beside me, I stared at the brooch where I’d put it on the bedtable so I could see it and thought how many more stars might be added to it, until it is an entire universe of diamonds.
ST. LOUIS, FEBRUARY 25, 1875—Again in St. Louis! This tour seems to be dragging on forever, with all its extensions and added dates, and I think I am not the only one wearying of it. I am very worried about Gideon. He is working so hard, and the demands of the company are so much that I hardly see him, and when I do he is too exhausted to do anything but fall asleep. All these petty things consume him, and he is more impatient with me than ever when I tell him how I miss him. He has not come to my bed in two weeks. If I were his wife, he would not ignore me this way, and that stupid Leila would not be so quick to look at him the way she does. But I know what he would say if I were to mention it. No famous prima donna is managed by her husband. And I suppose too that a woman must obey her husband’s commands no matter how famous she is, so it is best this way. But I think that Gideon and I should buy a house together when we return to New York, with servants who don’t change and furniture to my taste. I have been happy at the Fifth Avenue, but I’m going to be twenty-one this year, surely I should have something of my own?
I asked Gideon what he thought of such an idea and he said now was not the time. He thinks we must begin looking at Europe. He’s been making inquiries of impresarios there, trying to win me a role at Covent Garden or the Theatre Italien or even La Scala. I told him that of course I longed to go to Europe, but why not buy a house in Manhattan as well, something to return to? He said it was an additional expense we did not need, as this tour was costing a great deal, and our finances could not bear a house just now, which surprised me greatly. I had thought we were becoming quite rich, but I admit I am not very good with such things; I have always been satisfied to leave them to Gideon, and he knows better than me.
DENVER, MARCH 22, 1875—I am the “Queen of Denver.” My dressing room and the hotel are both filled with flowers, and Taddeo brought me a lovely ruby and pearl brooch that someone threw upon the stage for me, though of course Leila asked him how he knew it was meant for me and not for her or Amelia. Taddeo (bless him!) told her I was the only one who had deserved it, and she grew very angry and broke a mirror.
Afterward Gideon said I must not provoke her so. I said that he had always told me that rivalries increased the public interest, and here was one he could exploit if he cared to, and he said, “Damn it, Sabine, think of me, will you,” and I said I was always thinking of him, and I did everything he wanted me to do, so perhaps it was time he did something for me and sent Leila packing before I took it into my head to go instead.
I regretted my words immediately because I saw I’d hurt him. He said that he had dedicated his life to making me happy. Then he said he’d had a letter from an impresario in Paris—one Alain DeRosier—who was planning to be in America next year and would like to hear me, and I forgot all about Leila.
But as soon as Gideon was gone I resented that he had turned everything to my fault, and had not really listened to me and pooh-poohed my idea of a house. I have been thinking lately that he does not wish the best for me so much as he pretends he does. He always finds a way to dismiss my complaints and suggestions, and I am growing very dissatisfied, which is a feeling that has consumed me lately, and I don’t know how to stop it.
I begin to long for Europe. Barret was right; I cannot be as famous as Adelina Patti without it, and besides then it would be just Gideon and me alone again. If I cannot be his wife in name, it will at least be as it was. He could devote himself to me and leave all the little frustrations of running a company behind.
SAN FRANCISCO, APRIL 22, 1875—We are in a great deal of chaos. Everything was arranged for us to perform at the Royal Theater, but when we arrived yesterday, the owner of the theater, whose name is Mr. McAlester, told Gideon that he had decided to cancel our booking in lieu of a company who is asking for a lowe
r percentage of ticket sales.
I have not seen Gideon so angry in a long time, though he was very calm, and threatened to sue because we had signed contracts saying we were to perform here during these dates.
It was all very bad, but I noted how Mr. McAlester kept looking at me as if he could not quite believe I was standing before him, and so I put my hand on his arm and said in my most soothing voice that I thought we could come to some agreement, perhaps over dinner and some wine? Mr. McAlester stammered and blushed, but he agreed. I thought for a moment that Gideon would protest, but in the end we went to dinner and I flirted with Mr. McAlester quite shamelessly. I know Gideon did not like it, but he was as ruthlessly engaging as he always is, and because I am still suspicious of Leila and him, I admit I did try to provoke his jealousy a little.
Afterward, Gideon said he would have to consider either going to a different theater or taking his company out of San Francisco altogether, and Mr. McAlester said we could always try Seattle. Gideon said that Seattle was where culture went to die, and he had been thinking more of Sacramento. Mr. McAlester asked Gideon to have a drink with him after they escorted me back to the hotel.
So, I was put out of the way. I was in bed reading much later when Gideon came into my room. He loosened the drawstring of my nightgown, and kissed my breast and murmured against my skin that Mr. McAlester had asked for a private audience with me the next evening, and would I consent to go?
It had been weeks since Gideon had touched me this way, and my longing for him had only been growing and growing. He said how desperate our money situation was, and how much we needed this booking, but I only wanted him to kiss me. So of course I said I would meet McAlester.