Authors: Suzette Hollingsworth
“Believe it, my love. Perhaps if she were wearing hunting gear she might be able to capture Valentinois’s attention.”
Sangria flowed as easily as the twenty-six fountains, and fireworks illuminated the now-glowing palace against the night sky while they dined amidst much laughter, music, and dancing.
“I have dreamed of this happiness for you ever since knowing you as a small boy,” Esteban stated as he took Alejandro’s face in his hands and kissed both cheeks, an action no one else would have dared. Nicolette smiled to see him, still limping but otherwise looking well.
“My heart has been reborn, my friend,” Alejandro replied.
“I can see that quite readily,” Esteban replied, seating himself with the ease of a gentleman, outshining them all despite his illness.
Most of the men present wore simple dinner jackets and bowties in the style of King Edward VII, but Esteban added to that a pink silk vest, his charms, and a pink bowtie. Still, he could not compete with the jewelry Saint-Cyr wore, who was glittering to the extent that he was some competition for the fireworks
“It is positively magical here, Nicolette.” Lady Elaina sighed, leaning against her husband.
“You are happy, Nicolette,” Lady Ravensdale murmured, seated next to her daughter.
“Very.” Nicolette smiled. “My life has become vastly more expanded than I might have wished, but that is part of being married to Alejandro. Tell me, Mother. Did you see the…
tragedy
…coming?”
Lady Ravensdale nodded sadly. “I did.”
“But you said nothing.”
“Would it have made it any easier?”
“No. Possibly more difficult.”
“It was something you had to traverse in your own way,” Lady Elaina remarked.
“And you have,” added Dr. Stanton. “Admirably.”
“But, Mama,” argued Nicolette, “we might have prevented it if we had known. Possibly someone might have been saved.”
“I wish that were so, Nicolette. I only had a vague foreboding. I did not know when or where. And I knew that your path would not be deterred. On other occasions I have managed to save lives, but not as often as I might like; I do wish for it. Perhaps someday.”
“For now, we are all simply so happy that all our family is well,” Lady Elaina stated, “and that you and Alejandro have each other.”
Nicolette hugged her mother, beginning to giggle as she caught a view of her brother with frosting on his nose. “Lance, you are almost nine, and look at you!”
“It is
good
to be married to the king!” Lance grinned sheepishly, licking his lips. “Letty, he has so many cooks!”
“And they never stop feeding you!” remarked Nicolette.
“It is fortunate that there is so much activity to be had here at La Granja.” Lord Ravensdale raised his eyebrows, but there was unconcealed affection in his expression as he took his daughter’s hand and squeezed it.
“The palace is at your disposal, Lord Ravensdale.” Alejandro smiled.
“Would you care for a fencing lesson tomorrow, Señor Lance?” Esteban asked.
“Would I!” Lance’s eyes grew wide, his adoring eyes resting on Esteban. “Yes
,
sir!”
“Esteban shall be teaching our firstborn to fence before he is out of the cradle, I have no doubt.” Alejandro laughed.
“I see the same,” murmured Lady Ravensdale.
“I will teach your children, but I will no longer live in the palace with you, my king,” Esteban remarked, tears forming in his eyes. “We have been together a long time, and now you are grown.”
“Not live with us in the palace?” Alejandro was visibly alarmed as he grasped Esteban’s extended hand. “But I still need you, my friend. Now more than ever.”
“We will see each other. But it is time for me to make my own life now that you have yours.”
“Of course.” Alejandro swallowed hard. “I can never thank you enough for all you have meant to me.”
“What shall you do now, Esteban?” asked Nicolette.
“It has long been my dream to form a home for orphans in Madrid.”
“You will have my full support,” Alejandro replied softly.
“And”—he smiled broadly—“I will marry.”
“
Marry
?” asked Alejandro.
“You look at me as if I am immune from affairs of the heart.” Esteban laughed, adding softly, “I assure you that I am not.”
“Who is this woman whom God has smiled upon, Esteban?” Nicolette watched him attentively.
“I have not met her,” he replied simply. He tossed his headful of black curls, laughing. He smiled in the direction of the gorgeous flamenco dancer wearing a flaming-red silk dress with a plunging neckline. “But I shall enjoy finding her. And I
will
find her.”
“Let the games begin,” remarked Lord Ravensdale.
“
Ladies beware
,” added Nicolette, giggling.
Smiles resurfaced on all, though Nicolette saw the sadness etched into Alejandro’s expression. But Esteban had forfeited his life for long enough. It was time. And she had no doubt that Esteban and his new wife would be frequent guests at the palace.
“You said that you saw our child, Lady Ravensdale?” Alejandro asked, forcing himself to refocus his attention.
“I do. She will be an excellent fencer.”
“
She
. Oh?” Alejandro chuckled.
“What else can you tell us about her?” asked Nicolette, leaning forward.
“She will be much like Lord Ravensdale, a warrior’s spirit with a heart for justice.” A slow smile came to Lady Ravensdale’s lips as her eyes rested on her husband.
“A warrior?” asked Alejandro, grinning. “Our little girl?”
“Yes,” Lady Ravensdale replied softly.
“Ah, and here is the beautiful bride!”
“Enrico! How are you?”
“
Bellissimo
.” Caruso kissed his fingertips. “As are you, Signora Nicolette. Or, should I say, Your Highness?”
“
Never
among friends. And do you look forward to your engagement at the Metropolitan Opera in New York, Enrico?”
“Yes, a new home. Naples—my own Italy—scorned me. As long as I can sing, I will be happy.”
“As long as you breathe, you will be happy, Enrico. And Ada. Where is she? Is she excited to see New York?”
“She prefers to stay at the villa I bought her in Florence with my first advance.”
“Ada is not going with you to New York, Enrico?” Nicolette asked in disbelief.
“She has aspirations. I will see her.” Caruso smiled, handing the king a tablet. “King Alejandro, I have brought a wedding gift for you.”
“Ah, a caricature of the queen and myself.
Delightful
.”
“Enrico, this is hilarious!” Nicolette could not help herself—she was almost in a fit of laughter, most unbecoming to a queen, she was sure. “Did you draw it?”
“Of course. Who else? I have hundreds of these.”
“
Hundreds
?” Alejandro gulped.
“Not hundreds of you and Signora Nicolette but of everyone I know.”
“How fortunate that we can count you among our acquaintances, Señor Caruso.” Alejandro managed to catch his breath again. “And what do you do with these drawings, may I ask?”
“
Do?
What does anyone do with art? One feels it, one lives it, one—”
“Let me be more precise then. Shall you be submitting them to the newspapers?”
“
Newspapers?
You insult me. They do not deserve my work!”
“I agree entirely!” the king emphasized.
“Señor Caruso,” Esteban added gently, “as a boy, Alejandro had some painful and damaging experiences with caricatures being placed in the newspapers. Especially given recent events, we cannot be too careful.”
“That recent horrible event was instigated by a madman acting alone,” exclaimed Enrico. “For all else, you must learn to laugh back, King Alejandro! Who is bothering you? Shall I do a caricature of him for you?”
“
Tempting
…” considered the king.
“You must make a joke of it!” advised Caruso. “Laugh, and the world laughs with you. Cry, and you cry alone. Life is to be lived.”
“Excellent advice, Señor Caruso.”
“I must have one for my opera box!” Saint-Cyr interjected, bursting onto the scene, waving his lavender-gloved hand.
“One
what
?” asked Alejandro.
“One of those…candy…things!” explained Saint-Cyr indignantly.
“A
piñata
?” exclaimed Nicolette with equal indignation. “In the Palais Garnier? One of the most beautiful opera houses in the
world
?”
“They will throw you out of the Palais Garnier, Saint-Cyr,” Alejandro replied, stifling a chuckle. “Possibly out of Paris.”
“They cannot. My grandfather was one of Napoleon’s guards.”
“Tsk. Tsk.” Alejandro shook his head. “Piñatas are quite out of fashion in opera houses these days, Saint-Cyr.”
“You jest!” accused Saint-Cyr, tapping his finger on his cheek, the topaz on his gold pinky ring throwing streaks of glitter.
“I’m quite serious, my friend,” insisted Alejandro.
“It is shocking how quickly the utterly divine can fall out of fashion anymore,” Saint-Cyr replied, dejected.
“True, but it can’t be helped. The world moves forward with or without us.”
“
Alors!
Valentinois! Do you speak Spanish? Ask that young lady where she purchased that sheer fabric. The ruffles would look quite elegant on my chairs,” Saint-Cyr exclaimed as he wandered off. “Young lady, put your skirt down, it’s indecent! Valentinois! Give her some candy.”
“Thank you, love,” Nicolette sighed.
“I have arranged some Spanish music for you,
mi cielito
.” Alejandro bent toward her.
Nicolette smiled. Alejandro had thought of every detail, and she had only to dress for the wedding, carry her roses, and enjoy her guests.
As the flamenco dancers performed for her and the guitarist played and sang, she watched wide-eyed, feeling absolutely invigorated by it. It was fiercely emotional music with a strong rhythm. There was much rhythmic hand clapping and encouraging shouts from fellow performers, and the dancers came down heavily on the brick patio, emphasizing the beat. The execution was brilliant, noisy, and
savage
. She wondered that there must have been some metal attached to their shoes. The male dancer wore a white ruffled shirt and very formfitting black clothing—dressed much like the matador—and the rippling of every muscle was evident to her. Likewise, the female dancer was dressed provocatively, with one side of her low-cut, highly ruffled dress reaching up to her thigh. The combination of music, dance, and rhythm created a wildly focused, almost-trancelike state of emotion.
“What is this
flamenco
dance, Alejandro?” she asked breathlessly, clapping vigorously even as she turned to Alejandro.
“Traveling troupes perform it and are increasing in popularity throughout Spain.”