Secrets of a Soprano (39 page)
Sempronio and Sofie came in to hug and kiss her and wish her luck. Tessa had a new
répétiteur
now, one who was able to stay in the country for long periods, Sempronio being in constant demand in London for concerts and as a singing teacher. She saw them almost every day now she was in town again, and they would always be her dearest friends. Knowing her well, they didn’t stay long. She needed quiet to prepare her mind for the challenge ahead. Even Max had been banished to his box. Only Angela was permitted to remain with her.
As a result of her new performance-day regime, she felt absolutely splendid: confident, powerful, invincible even. She fingered the white roses on her dressing table, inhaled their fragrance, and kissed them.
Then she forgot everything but the evil queen and the fiendishly difficult music Mozart had written for her.
*
Max had refused
to sit in the stage box with Lady Clarissa and Simon. Since Tessa was on stage he preferred his own company, so he could admire her without distraction and think how lucky he was to have such a talented wife. And luckier still to be the one to take her home afterward.
He had every faith in Tessa, but nervousness was inevitable. He fretted. About her voice, which he knew was as good as ever. But what if giving birth had affected it so she could not be heard in this grandiose theatrical palace his mother had created? Or perhaps some unmannerly yahoos would remember the old controversy over the hospital and boo her? He’d have to jump down to the pit and fight them. Or, and this seemed the most likely of all terrible eventualities his brain could dream up, a massive piece of scenery would fall on her?
She had sent him away when he escorted her to her dressing room, saying she needed quiet before the performance. But what if she needed him to help soothe her nerves? He should go back at once.
His exit at the back of the box was blocked by the appearance of the Marquess of Somerville. “What do you want?” he asked rudely.
“Always a pleasure to see you, Max. You look calm.”
Max grinned sheepishly at the man’s perception. “I’m more nervous about tonight than Tessa.”
“How is the lovely Lady Allerton?”
“Lovely and all mine, thank you.”
“Yes, you won that one. Don’t worry. Domesticity has never been to my taste, but I do look forward to hearing La Divina again. Lady Clarissa has promised something spectacular.”
Max groaned. “She hasn’t let me into the theater for rehearsals since I own the rival house, but I hear things. I don’t think you need to worry about insipidity and good taste this evening.”
“Excellent. While we’re on the subject, will your wife be returning to the Regent? Nancy is anxious to know.” Somerville’s mistress had been promoted during Tessa’s absence and was doing well in the leading soprano roles, though not, of course, as well as Tessa.
“Tell Miss Sturridge that she is safe, though Lady Allerton may return for particular operas from time to time. She does not intend to perform regularly. She has accepted an engagement in Italy so we shall take the whole family to spend the winter in Naples.”
When Somerville had departed, Max dwelled on the many advantages of life as husband to a singer—private concerts at home, winter in a warm climate—if only he could control his nerves. Tessa said any agitation she felt always disappeared once she appeared on stage. Max hoped it would work for him too. Perhaps he’d better do some breathing exercises. He inhaled a time or two, in the way he’d watched her prepare so often. The absurdity made him feel better.
The opera was about to start. In
The Magic Flute
Simon had found the ideal vehicle to combine first-rate music with Lady Clarissa’s passion for the sensational. There would be a dragon, other fantastical creatures, and plenty of live animals, including, yes, an elephant. Tessa was quite excited about her own entrance but had refused to spoil the surprise. Every form of persuasion he’d attempted, many of them quite inventive, had failed.
The overture began and he fell under the spell of Mozart’s music. Much of the audience was less easily enchanted and fell silent only when the curtain went up and the giant proscenium arch revealed a magical forest. The dragon was splendid, the singing adequate—though not, to Max’s satisfaction, up to the standard of the Regent. As thunder announced the approach of the Queen of the Night, a dark curtain fell. The orchestra played the thrilling music that heralded her appearance and a collective gasp went up from the vast auditorium when the curtain reopened. A rocky island rose from beneath the stage, surrounded by water. From within a cave Tessa emerged, gorgeous in black and silver.
The scenery did not collapse and every word could be heard. Each soaring note was perfect, and the end of the aria was greeted with rapture. La Divina was back.
No one in the audience could be happier than the diva’s husband whose eyes were damp with love and pride.
Except, perhaps, the husband’s mother. Although she hadn’t managed to fit a shipwreck into
The Magic Flute
, she had insisted on an ocean.
Opera singers, especially sopranos, were celebrities in the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries, comparable to rock stars now. In creating Teresa Foscari I drew on incidents from the lives of two of the period’s most renowned, Angelica Catalani and Maria Malibran. The soubriquet La Divina I borrowed as an homage to the twentieth century’s greatest diva, Maria Callas.
The Regent Opera House is an invention inspired by the short-lived Pantheon Opera, built in the 1780s. I trust the Regent lasted longer. The Tavistock is based on the King’s Theatre in the Haymarket, which was the home of Italian opera in Regency London. In the British Library I found a treasure trove in the form of three volumes of newspaper clippings from press reports, gossip columns, reviews, and advertisements concerning the King’s Theatre. Many of the press reports that head each chapter are taken, with appropriate adaptation, from those volumes. Among the reports was a furor over Catalani refusing to sing at a benefit for a hospital and having her donation returned. Without knowing the reason behind the controversy, I adapted the incident for my story.
Tessa’s solo operatic debut at the age of seventeen was not unusual. Catalani’s was at sixteen while Malibran was seventeen when she stepped in for a sick prima donna—shades of Forty-Second Street! The enormous sums earned by the top singers challenged the incomes of aristocrats: One year Catalani was estimated to have earned over £16,000. Like Tessa, she had trouble collecting money owed, as well as having her fortune frittered away by a gambling husband.
I set my story in 1818, the year that Rossini’s
The Barber of Seville
was first performed in London. Beethoven’s
Fidelio
premiered in 1805 so there is no reason it couldn’t have been performed in 1818. In fact, it didn’t reach London until 1832. All the operas, songs, and arias mentioned in the book were staples of the period and can be found in multiple performances on You Tube if you want to hear them.
My eternal gratitude goes to Louisa Cornell, professional opera singer and Regency romance writer, for her invaluable information about the habits of sopranos, current and historical. Any inaccuracies are mine, not hers. Thanks to Edie Danford for her stellar editing and to Megan Mulry, Anne Calhoun, Stacey Agdern, Janet Mullany, and many other writing friends for their suggestions, support, and encouragement.
Secrets of a Soprano
has been a long time in gestation. Originally it was intended as a follow-up to my debut novel
Never Resist Temptation
, the story of Tessa’s pastry cook cousin Jacobin and Anthony, the Earl of Storrington. Instead I put it aside and began the Burgundy Club series. But I always loved the half-written story so last year I decided to revise and finish it. I hope you enjoyed it.
Miranda
Miranda Neville grew up in England, loving the books of Georgette Heyer and other Regency romances. Her historical romances include the Burgundy Club series, about Regency book collectors, and The Wild Quartet. She lives in Vermont with her daughter, her cat, and a ridiculously large collection of Christmas tree ornaments. Miranda loves to hear from readers and can be reached through her
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The Wild Quartet series
The Second Seduction of a Lady (novella)
The Importance of Being Wicked
The Burgundy Club series
The Amorous Education of Celia Seaton
Confessions From an Arranged Marriage
Also
Anthologies with Maya Rodale, Katharine Ashe, and Caroline Linden:
Anthologies with Grace Burrowes, Carolyn Jewel, and Shana Galen:
