The Serenade: The Prince and the Siren [Daughters of the Empire 2] (BookStrand Publishing Romance) (21 page)

Lady Elaina swept into the room, her indignation apparent. “So you’ve read it.” Unlike Nicolette, she was already dressed, her auburn hair arranged in an elegant coiffure atop her head, her aquamarine eyes blazing.

Nicolette opened her mouth but could find no words. Possibly she had lost her voice forever.

“Don’t believe a word of it, Nicolette.” Lady Elaina needed no encouragement. “I was there, and your performance was stupendous. I don’t know when I was ever so impressed.” She paced the room with the energy and appearance of a much younger woman, wearing a gown of pale-gray crepe de chine with a sheer chiffon overlay of embroidered dots in silver thread.

Nicolette glanced at the newspaper before her eyes, still not believing the black-and-white characters that danced before her, mocking her.

“This is absolute rubbish!” Lady Elaina seized the newspaper from Nicolette’s limp hands and in an agitated motion swatted the bed with it. “You are the greatest coloratura soprano I have ever heard. You can perform feats with your voice which put even the celebrated, established sopranos to the pale.”

“I gave everything to the audience, Grandmamma,
everything
.” She didn’t know if she said the words or only thought them. Moving slowly in a daze, Nicolette placed herself onto an eighteenth-century Venetian fainting couch where she sat, stunned. She stared at the winding designs of an Aubusson tapestry that served as a rug at her feet and wondered if she might faint from dizziness.

“Believe me, I
know
. It was the performance of a lifetime.”

“And this is what becomes of it. I can’t give any more.” She shook her head in disbelief.

“And no one has ever prepared for a role as you prepared for this one! Before beginning the study of the part, did you not go to Spain for several weeks and mingle with the people, learning the Spanish dances?”

“Yes.” She nodded, feeling a headache coming on. Large mirrors on her walls made the room appear much larger than it was, and the myriad reflections of light seemed to be laughing at her. “I was completely captivated with the factory cigarette girls, and I patterned my characterization of Carmen after them,” she murmured.

“Your rendition of Carmen positively vibrated with sensuality. The role took on a life of its own.” Lady Elaina sat down beside her, patting her hand. “That is the problem.”

“
What
was the problem?” Nicolette gasped, afraid to hear the answer.

“It became too real.” Lady Elaina opened the newspaper she clutched with a crisp
pop pop
and began searching with her eyes.

“Is that not the goal of theatre? Of
opera
?”

“Ah. Renault, one of the most respected critics in the business, writes, ‘If ever a more lewd and licentious interpretation was given, it is difficult to picture,’” Lady Elaina read aloud, her voice shaking. “‘The part calls for a woman who has power over men. But this performance by Mademoiselle Nicolette Genevieve made a mockery of the soprano’s role. It made one blush to see it. I hope I shall never see the likes of it again.’”

“Stop, Grandmamma!
Stop
!” she gasped, unable to keep from scanning the paper with her eyes as she inched closer. Below the review was a picture of her kissing Caruso. She almost choked on her words even as she continued reading where Lady Elaina had ceased, at her insistence. “‘Enrico Caruso was excessively theatrical as well; his exaggerated Italian pretensions overshadowed the part.’”

Nicolette tore the newspaper from her grandmother’s hands, reading the next review out loud. “Armand Le Strange writes, ‘Mademoiselle Nicolette Genevieve’s coloratura singing I found hopelessly overdone. One wonders if one was at a circus performance instead of the opera as she showed off her voice acrobatics. Worse, her voice is dark and invasive, like a black fog slowly encroaching upon an abandoned cemetery—and equally as disturbing. Her low register is bold and unrefined, almost as powerful as a man’s voice! She was well aware of it, too, immodestly utilizing this part of her voice for climactic effect in a way that was both suspenseful and vulgar, maintaining its rich timbre much higher on the scale than do most sopranos. Her voice is amazingly agile but much too ornate. Enrico Caruso sang magnificently, it is most unfortunate the soprano did not complement his exceptional ability.’” She dropped the newspaper onto the couch, her mouth wide open.

“Insufferable man!” Lady Elaina exclaimed.

“My life is over, Grandmamma. All my dreams…
destroyed
,” she wailed.

“Nonsense, child,” Lady Elaina pronounced resolutely. “You must turn it to your advantage. If you do not know how to do so, something is lacking in your education, and that is why this has been given to you. I regret to tell you, Nicolette, that this is the first genuine challenge you have ever had in your life. You must rise up to meet it and defeat it.”

“The first genuine challenge?” she repeated incredulously. “My entire life has been nothing but. I have hardly known a moment I wasn’t working toward this goal each and every waking hour! And while I sleep as well!”

“I can assure you, Nicolette, that the rest of the world is privy to pain every day of their lives. Up until now, you have worked very hard, but things have gone well for you. You have an enormous talent and every advantage. How many people work equally hard but without the same results? Emily, your maid, is exactly your age—and what are her prospects?” She shook her head. “No, you do not truly know disappointment.”

“I do now,” Nicolette murmured, tears forming in her eyes. “Never fear on that score.” She glanced about her room. Everything was
music
. A lyre-back chair beside her music stand held the score from
Carmen
. A pair of bronze-dor
é
sconces over the mantel of a white marble fireplace framed a Parisian scene from Puccini’s
La Boh
è
me
. A painting of Mozart sat next to her desk.

“This is not the time for self-pity. It serves no purpose.” Lady Elaina rose and began pacing again, crossing in front of the marble fireplace before turning to face Nicolette abruptly, her aquamarine eyes vivid against the white marble. Nicolette was accustomed to her grandmother’s unrelenting pragmatism, but she felt as if those eyes were drilling a hole into her when she least needed to be scrutinized.

“There is no longer a purpose, Grandmamma. It is
over
.” She felt herself choking on the words.

“It most certainly is
not
over! And I’ll thank you never to use such a phrase in my presence again!” Her expression was defiant. “Having had a protected childhood raised alongside Tibetan monks, some of the purest and most loving people alive, who sought no gain for themselves at the expense of others, you now work in a world replete with jealousy, falsity, thievery, and cruelty. There are those who do not believe they can be successful on their own merit. They must, instead, attempt to make everyone around them appear unfavorable by comparison.” She smiled smugly. “You must learn to live in this world the rest of us inhabit, my darling.”

“You sound like the Dalai Lama, Grandmamma, who told me that my suffering is a gift! Can you not see that this is
disaster
?” Nicolette stared at her beloved grandmother in horror, not believing what she was hearing.

“Pish-tosh!” Lady Elaina huffed indignantly. “Do not allow such a thing, Nicolette! Refuse to accept it, and a solution will present itself. I would not call this unfortunate turn of events a
gift
—it is a serious millstone and an injustice—but it must now be dealt with nonetheless, and you will be a stronger person for it, I guarantee.”

“It is immaterial if I am strong or weak!” she sobbed. “It only matters that I
sing
.”

“It is quite relevant, I assure you! Your own mother was cast out on the very day of her presentation to society, the day she had been planning for all her life. I see many similarities with your current situation.” Her lower lip began to tremble as she turned to face Nicolette, her auburn hair catching the morning light. “I never saw anyone so distraught in my life. And yet, reticent, terrified Alita—whom most didn’t think had an ounce of backbone in her—set her own course, sailed to Egypt, and rescued not only herself but thousands of others in the bargain!”

“Yes, yes, I know but…” Nicolette began. “Honestly, all Mama ever wanted was to be at home and to raise a family. She married the Earl of Ravensdale and never wished for anything else.”

“Nicolette Genevieve Stanton! Don’t you ever let me hear you diminish someone else’s dreams and disappointments simply because they are not your own. I assure you that Alita’s challenges were every bit as great as your own. Possibly greater. As I said, life has spoiled you terribly until now.”

“I didn’t mean…Oh, Grandmamma! Can you not see that I am suffering terribly?” She burst into tears. “That I have already been destroyed? There is no need for you to chime in with my failings. Does this really serve any purpose?”

Lady Elaina rushed to her and put her arm around her as she sobbed into her shoulder. “There, there, my dear. You shall make it all well, you’ll see, probably in half the time it took the rest of us. I merely want you to see that you are no different from women who have gone before you and overcome incredible odds.”

“But, Grandmamma…” she sobbed.

“It took me six years to overcome my difficulties and to realize my dreams.”

“Six
years
? Oh, what am I saying? I will never be a star now! Six years would be a miracle! It simply cannot happen now!”

“Don’t tell me this is different, my girl! In 1860 I myself was shunned by all when I went into nursing school—and believe me, things are much better for women now than they were then—I know, I helped bring many of those changes about myself. Now I am the most sought-after political hostess in London.”

“Yes, it is quite an achievement, Grandmamma”—she sniffed, forcing herself to gain control of herself—“but opera…”

“Don’t think for a moment, Nicolette, that you are the first to face a trial. Or that the world of music is any more difficult and cutthroat than any other world. Many have gone before you and succeeded. We are original women, all of us, and there will always be setbacks for those who live authentically. But it is only temporary, I assure you.”

“Many have gone before us and failed as well.” Nicolette fought back tears as she wrung her hands, shaking her head in anguish.

“True, and if you give up now, you will, without a doubt, be among them.”

“There is no solution, Grandmamma. Singers do not endure if public opinion is not with them. And the critics define public opinion.”

“Do they now? Public opinion is ever changing with a life of its own.”

“Oh, what could I have been thinking, Grandmamma? I thought that I could hold to a higher ideal in a profession which depends upon the approval of others. I wanted so desperately to be true to myself and to the music. And it was just a dream.”

“You must not despair, Nicolette. You were right to focus on the development of your talent first and foremost. No one does anything great without being disliked by
someone
. When I went to nursing school, you would have thought it was a personal attack on womankind.”

“How could anyone possibly object to a woman living according to her ideals and serving society?” Nicolette asked, disgusted, forgetting her own problems for a moment.

“It was said that I was an unfeeling, bitter woman driven by selfish ambition. Women like me would destroy the fabric of the family. When I began working for political reform and universal suffrage, I was either too strong or not strong enough—and the devil’s tool, either way.” Lady Elaina shrugged. “Now we can scoff, but it was very painful at the time, with far-reaching consequences. I lost
everything
.”

“But this isn’t like nursing, Grandmamma.” Nicolette’s heart was sinking. “This is the
stage
.”

“You must be like Caruso and laugh in the face of cruelty.” Lady Elaina took her by the shoulders. “What was the prank he played on Melba?”

“Oh, not now, Grandmamma. Now is not the time to reminisce.”