Sweet Bravado

by Alicia Meadowes

  “You see! It is not so foolish as you think.” Rudi seconded Crawley.

  “Yes, I suppose there is something in what you say,” Nicole admitted reluctantly.

  “Are you afraid of what your husband might say?” Crawley taunted.

  Nicole’s eyes flashed dangerously. “My husband has nothing to do with it. It is simply that I am not trained as a professional dancer.”

  “You would not actually have to dance. Would she, Rudolph?”

  “No, a small part could be arranged where you would appear briefly.”

  “What… what part could that be?”

  “I know,” Natalya claimed coming to them. “That part of the Egyptian princess who is about to become the bride of the pharaoh.”

  “That is perfect! The princess dances to please the pharaoh,” Rudi explained.

  “Actually all she does is introduce the other dancers,” Natalya added. “That would be Rudi and me.”

  “Magnificent!” Lord Crawley encouraged.

  “With two or three rehearsals, you will be perfect as the princess,” Rudi continued eagerly.

  “I do not know. What would I have to do?”

  “Simply pantomine a few graceful movements at the feet of the pharaoh. Then there would be the clash of cymbals and Natalya and I would appear and do our dance.”

  “That is all?”

  “That is all.”

  “It does sound simple.”

  “Enough, my friends, you are pressuring the lady. She must have time to consider. After all, her in-laws may not approve…” Crawley struck the very note to rouse Nicole at last.

  “Oh, nonsense, Joseph. How could I offend society in my own home by merely introducing the dancers. I will do it!”

  “Very well, if you insist.” Crawley smiled triumphantly.

  Nicole experienced some uneasiness as she contemplated the events set into motion by herself, Crawley, and his friends long after her guests had departed. Would she regret her rash decision? But it was the perfect opportunity to strike back at Valentin and the Harcourts. So they scorned her mother for a dancer, did they? Just wait until they heard of her performance with Rudi and Natalya! What would Valentin do? What could he do? No doubt he would come to Brussels with Wellington, and family pride would force him to seek her out. Nicole trembled with hope and fear. She was playing with fire, but she wanted a showdown between them. Perhaps fate would force them to solve their marital dilemma, and that was what she really wanted, and she knew it. Nicole whispered a prayer, “Yes, in Brussels my love, we shall see.”

  So Nicole continued with her plans to perform at her party. Every detail must be perfect, including her own début. She worked tirelessly with Rudi, and it seemed that destiny was conspiring to accomplish her aims. Madame Chenier extended her stay indefinitely in Ghent, and all Nicole’s preparations moved ahead smoothly.

  Madame Lafitte’s efforts to forestall Nicole’s plans to perform with the dancers at the coming reception met with stony resistance from Nicole. There was little Lafitte could do other than act the part of chaperone whenever the dancers or Lord Crawley were in the house. And they were there daily.

  The lady tried to reassure herself that Nicole’s plan was not as outrageous as she knew it to be. Her charge’s part was little enough, consisting of a few whirls and graceful turns—but the costume was far too revealing! She shuddered, watching Nicole practice her obeisance before the reigning pharaoh.

  “Lovely, my dear, Nicole. Absolutely lovely,” Crawley praised her as their practice came to a close one afternoon; however, he did not see the look of black disgust Lafitte directed to the back of his head. How she would like to murder the man!

  Natalya, who had been assisting as pianist during the practice sessions, began to play a lively gypsy tune with much gusto. Immediately Rudi broke into a spirited Cossack dance whirling around the room and catching Nicole by the waist, forced her to dance with him. Something primitive and wild within her responded, and soon the pair was stomping and twirling in true gypsy fashion, clapping their hands and clicking their heels in a joyous impromptu romp. They whirled madly until they collapsed in an exhausted heap on the divan.

  “But you are a wild gypsy at heart, my dear Viscountess! You are wasted as the wife of a British officer. You were meant to be a dancer!” It was heady wine to hear Rudi praise her so, but in her heart of hearts all Nicole wanted was to be the adoring wife of one particular British officer.

  The day of Nicole’s party arrived bright and clear with unseasonably warm temperatures for early April and augured well for the turnout that evening. Nicole spent the early part of the day overseeing the final decorations of the grand salon which had been turned into a ballroom for the dancing. At the far end of the room a raised dais had been contrived as a stage for the evening’s entertainment. The musicians were to assemble in a small alcove to the left, and an antechamber to the right was to be used as the backstage area for the dancers.

  All day long, great baskets of flowers filled with irises, nasturtiums, lilacs, and chrysanthemums in blending hues of blues and purples arrived from the florist. They were banked in profusion about the dais and garlanded with trailing greens of ivy and fern in trellises over the French doors leading out to the terrace and gardens.

  The dining room was arranged to accommodate long tables covered in heavy linen and adorned with glittering crystal and silver awaiting the sumptuous buffet now in preparation in the busy kitchens.

  Nicole managed to avoid the reproachful presence of Madame Lafitte under pretext of one duty or another, and in late afternoon she took to her room with strict instructions to her maid that no one was to disturb her. She would try for an hour’s rest in preparation for the evening’s activities. But try as she may, sleep would not come. She was too worked up with nervous energy, and repressed misgivings over her audacious début. Giving up the pursuit of rest as useless, she rang for her maid to prepare her bath.

  She was finishing her toilette when Madame Lafitte finally cornered her. As her maid adjusted the small jeweled plume in her hair, Lafitte entered her room.

  “Well, Fifi, how do I look?” She rose showing off her Empire gown of pale violet silk with a net overdress sprinkled with diamantés. Gleaming amethysts accentuated the fullness of her bosom in the low-cut dress.

  “Beautiful, chérie” A nervous hand plucked at the delicate sleeve.

  “You may go,” Nicole nodded to her maid who silently withdrew. “Well, what is it, Fifi? I can see you will not be satisfied until I allow you to speak.”

  “Chérie, do not do this foolhardy thing.”

  “Fifi, there is nothing the least bit foolhardy in my plans. It has all been worked out very carefully. I am sure I will do my mother proud,” Nicole answered defiantly.

  “And the Viscount? Will he be proud? What of him?” Lafitte countered.

  “We have been all through that, and I will not have you spoiling my evening. I am nervous as it is. Now if you will excuse me, my guests are about to arrive.” Determinedly Nicole marched from the room.

  Although many ladies and gentlemen of distinction were in attendance, Nicole’s entrance on Lord Crawley’s arm created a stir of excitement. The colors of the ballroom decor were chosen to enhance Nicole’s ensemble. The entire setting was a dramatic backdrop to her own vivid beauty, and the scene was altogether one to dazzle the senses. It was a night for revelry and drama.

  Between dances the floor was crowded with lovers, gossipers, and intriguers, and as the night wore on the note of gay abandon increased. It needed only the stunning news of the arrival of the Duke of Wellington in Brussels to mark the night as a momentous occasion. The news swept the ballroom like wildfire and cast the revelers into a frenzy of expectation.

  Nicole moved happily among the guests until she heard the report of the Duke’s arrival. For a moment she froze. To her the news meant only one thing. Valentin was in Brussels! She was seized by an unreasonable desire to flee, but she knew that if she
succumbed to the feeling seeking to master her, the evening would be ruined. The only thought that came clearly through was that she must proceed with the entertainment as planned. Forcing herself into an unnatural calm, Nicole changed into a harem -skirt of deep purple trimmed with gold and a matching bodice. Her midriff was lightly concealed by diaphanous gauze, and her feet were bare. A filmy cloak was clasped over one shoulder to ensure that her attire was not completely immodest, This had been added at Madame Lafitte’s entreaties.

  The time for her performance approached, and while the guests were at supper, chairs were set up at one end of the ballroom where the entertainment would take place. Several candelabra were lighted near the stage area, and the remainder of the room was darkened. Finally, the anticipation was over, and a clash of cymbals announced the arrival of the pharaoh. Violins struck up the princess’s theme music. It was her cue!

  Controlling a quiver, Nicole moved forward into the light toward the pharaoh. She knelt as a supplicant at his feet and stretched out her arms to him. Receiving a nod from him, she rose and whirled gracefully extending her arms toward the right. There was another clash of cymbals, and Rudi and Natalya appeared. As they reached center stage, Nicole whirled again and sank at the pharaoh’s feet. Unable to resist the impulse, she stole a quick look at the spectators. Lounging against the wall was the one person she feared to see. Valentin was glaring across the room at her! Nicole closed her eyes, almost fainting with alarm. When she opened them, he was still there in his brilliant red uniform, his blazing eyes stabbing hers angrily. The remainder of the performance passed in a blur. There was music and movement, but she saw none of it. A burst of applause and shouts of bravo greeted her ears, breaking the trance which held her. And then a throng of well-wishers was surrounding the performers, laughing, and praising them. Presently there was a break in the crowd, and the tall, handsome figure of her husband faced her.

  “Nicole, my dearest, I compliment you on a most amusing homecoming.” The stormy eyes and strained voice belied the arched grin as he raised her hand to his lips.

  Collecting her wits, Nicole replied in what she hoped was a calm voice, “I am pleased you enjoyed the entertainment, my lord.”

  “How could I do otherwise, when you present us with such a charming view of your accomplishments.” His sarcasm was unconcealed.

  Turning to the onlookers he declared, “I am sure our guests are hoping for an encore.” He flung a challenge to her, daring her to go further, then eyed her smugly as she blanched.

  The Harcourt devil was loose tonight!

  “Encore?” She looked at him in puzzlement as several of the guests murmured encouragement. “I… planned… that is… none has been planned.”

  Through the uttered protests of disappointments, Valentin whispered next to her ear, “Thank God! At least that is one humilation I am to be spared.” He squeezed her arm in a warning gesture as he led her through the crowd and ordered quietly, “Change at once.”

  Seized by a blinding anger, Nicole wrenched free of his grasp. He was taking charge! She would show this arrogant man once and for all that she would not take orders from him. “No, wait! I almost forgot. Rudi? Where is Rudi?”

  “Here, my lady.”

  “Rudi, do you remember the dance you were showing me the other day?”

  “The dance?” he questioned.

  “Come Rudi, tell the musicians what you wish them to play.”

  He still hesitated, “But, madame…”

  “Quickly, Rudi,” she sighed in exasperation at his reluctance.

  “Very well,” he acquiesced and began speaking to the musicians.

  Nicole was afraid to look at her enraged husband who had recovered enough composure to resist the impulse to drag her off the floor. The music began, and Nicole whirled around Rudi who clapped his hands and stamped his feet in rhythm to the harsh primitive sounds. Natalya took up the beat, and encouraged by this, Nicole indicated that others should join in. Although reluctant at first, several of the younger more daring members of the party proceeded to match their steps with the dancers. Caught up in the mad pace of clapping hands, stomping feet, and shouts of laughter, the group began to dance wildly while other guests murmured their disapproval.

  Each rhythmic step brought Nicole closer to her husband until she danced directly in front of him, giving herself up to the intimacy of the moment—her body swaying hypnotically. A wave of jubilation swept her as sparks of desire lighted Valentin’s eyes and seizing her moment of triumph, she flung her cape at his feet revealing her seductive attire to the eager eyes of the surrounding crowd. The light of passion in Valentin’s eyes was quenched immediately, and he lunged at Nicole snatching her in his arms and forcibly removing her from the abandoned merrymakers.

  In the outer hall, he picked her up and, ignoring her flaying arms and whispered damnations, he carried her along the corridor to her bedchamber. Once inside he threw her upon the bed.

  “Well, madame, have you enjoyed yourself?” he demanded furiously.

  “And why shouldn’t I? You must remember I am the daughter of a dancer.” She struggled to a sitting position.

  “Oh, yes, your humble origin, my dear Viscountess!” he sneered. “Does that mean I might expect further shameless exhibitions in the future?”

  “I have done nothing to be ashamed of! And I shall continue to do just as I please.”

  “You forget yourself, madame. I dictate matters in this family.”

  “And I recall you gave me the right to lead my own life!”

  “That was a mistake! You do not know the meaning of the word discretion…”

  “You dare to talk to me of discretion after your scandalous conduct with Tessa Von Hoffman!” she stormed, jumping off the bed.

  “Her again! I am tired of hearing about Tessa!” he shouted.

  “Like it or not she is part of this… this mess!”

  “Yes,” he hissed menacingly. “She, too, haunts me, but whereas I have little control over her, I have you in my power.”

  “And what power do you profess to wield over me?” Defiantly she stepped toward him placing her hands onher hips.

  “Life and death, my dear,” he assured her arrogantly.

  “Are you threatening me?”

  “Yes, I am. It would be a pleasure to strangle you. Then again maybe I shall have you locked up in a convent…”

  She laughed nervously.

  “Or better still take my mother’s advice and give you a child.”

  “You hateful brute!”

  “It tempts me… especially after that provocative performance this evening.” He advanced toward her. She backed away to the windows. “Why should I not enjoy the pleasures of a wife who seems to have captured the fancy of…” he hesitated, “God knows how many other men during my absence.”

  “You…” she gasped, her outrage nearly rendering her speechless. “You…”

  He caught her to himself and Nicole began to struggle in his arms. “Let me go!”

  “At least I shall be free of doubts during your confinement.” He grabbed her writhing body more firmly.

  “Why take a woman who despises you?” she cried.

  “Because I am master here, and I do not think you have learned that yet! I will do whatever I damn well please with you!” he roared.

  Freeing one of her arms, she slapped him hard across the face. Stunned momentarily, Valentin drew back, a black scowl contorting his handsome features as he reached out and grabbed the filmsy garment she was wearing, ripping it down the front and exposing her full breasts. She screamed in alarm, but it was stifled as his mouth closed on hers, and he bore her down on the bed. Unexpectedly a fire was lighted in her to match his own enraged passion. She clung to him only to be startled by his abrupt withdrawal. His irregular breathing was the only sound within the room as he leaned over her. Then he rose and began straightening his uniform. “Let that be a lesson to you, my love,” he rasped. “I could take you anytime I want, but
I shall not… tonight! We have guests waiting.” He walked toward the door and turned to address the disheveled girl crouching on the bed. “It is interesting, my dear Nicole, although you profess to hate me, how quickly you respond to my advances.”

  “You… contemptible beast!” She flung herself off the bed and threw a vase at the retreating figure whose mocking laugh could be heard through the closed door.

  Resolutely the Viscount proceeded down the stairs to the party below. His body ached with desire for her, but his pride kept him from retracing his steps and completing what he had started.

  Chapter XIII

  Nicole was surprised to see Valentin in the breakfast room when she came down the following morning. He eyed her silently until the servants withdrew. Then he said, “I should be at headquarters by now, but I waited to speak to you.” She continued to sip her coffee. “I want you to make no further commitments without my knowledge, Nicole.” Her head jerked up, eyes angry violet flames. But he ignored her defiant stare and added, “I mean it, Nicole. I do not have time to talk about it now; when I return this evening, we will discuss everything.”

  He, got up and came around the table to her and placed a hand lightly on her shoulder, but she shrugged it loose. Valentin sighed, controlling his rising temper at her imposed silence. “Maybe we can come to some sort of an understanding if we talk it out.” He did not wait for a reply.

  Nicole remained seated at the table thinking over what happened the night before. She had left the bedroom dressed once again in her violet silk and reappeared below cloaking her turbulent emotions under an icy calm. It was easy to locate her husband—his burnished blond head topped most of her other guests. Nevertheless, he made no attempt to seek out her company. Several times she caught his gaze, yet whatever he was thinking was masked behind a cold exterior. Half-expecting he might lead her out in the last waltz, she was disappointed for he was nowhere to be seen.

  Later Nicole thought she glimpsed him in the courtyard as she ushered out the last guests, but of that she was uncertain. Frustrated by her inability to communicate with him, she wandered about the empty rooms as the servants doused the candles and bid her a courteous goodnight.