Page 74 of His Arranged Duchess
“I think,” Lucien said at last, speaking slowly, “that I am not quite worthy of you, my dear duchess. Your faith in me is more than I deserve.”
Before she could respond, the orchestra struck up with a flourish. Silence fell in the audience as the overture began, a jaunty, vibrant tune that immediately pinned Frances to her seat with fascination. The curtain rose, revealing a man in a strange costume.
He began to sing, the music turning fast and urgent. Frances leaned forward, eyes widening. Abruptly, some sort of mechanical creature began to descend from above, twisting and writhing in a way that made it clear that the creature intended to attack the man.
“Is that asnake?” Frances gasped, under her breath. Before Lucien could answer—she was fairly sure he was trying not to laugh—the man on stage collapsed. Before the creature could attack, three women strode boldly onto the stage, arms raised, and began to sing, banishing the snake.
Frances watched breathlessly as the story unfolded. She privately thought that the hero—the man who’d fainted at the snake—was not handsome enough to have allthreeof the women in love with him at once, but hedidhave a beautiful voice.
Abruptly, another character joined the fray, and this one seemed more interesting than the somber hero. This one appeared to be wearing a cloak made of leaves and was clad mostly in feathers. Several feathers were waving in his hair, and he bounced around the stage with irrepressible energy.
“Papageno,” Lucien explained. “The man’s an idiot.”
The story unfolded, each song making the rafters of the theatre quiver. When the first act ended and the Intermission began, Frances sat back with a sigh, feeling as though she’d been holding her breath the entire time.
“I should warn you, there’s more, you know,” Lucien said, laughing.
“I know, and I cannot wait,” Frances responded with a sigh. “How beautiful. I don’t understand how Mama could have…” she broke off abruptly, biting her lip.
Lucien shifted to face her. “Don’t understand what, my dear?”
She sighed again. “I don’t understand how she could have given it up. It must have hurt her so very much. I should warn you, I cannot sing at all. I haven’t a scrap of my mother’s talent.” She paused, smiling. “She said that I took after my father in that regard.”
Lucien tilted his head, observing her. “Do you regret that you never knew him?”
She nodded. “Very much. Mama doesn’t speak of him often, but when she does… I can’t help but feel that he was a remarkable man. I do wish I could have met him, even once. Still, Uncle Cassian is said to be very much like him.”
“A brother’s bond is a great thing indeed,” Lucien murmured, and there was something strange and wistful in his voice thatFrances could not quite understand. She eyed him curiously, waiting for him to elaborate, but he stayed silent for one minute, then two. Then, quite abruptly, he got to his feet, flashing a hasty smile at her.
“Wait here, my dear, and I shall fetch those oranges for you.”
“I’m sure you can have them brought,” Frances tried to say, but Lucien either did not hear or did not listen and vanished at once. The sound of his footsteps was swallowed up by the thick carpeting, and then he was gone.
Left alone, Frances sighed and leaned back against her seat. Closing her eyes, she let the atmosphere of the bustling theatre wash over her.
Did Mama adore this time, as well? Did she rest during the intermissions, or did she scurry around to prepare for the next acts? Did the excitement of the theatre give her energy? Did it thrill her, like it thrills me?
Then somebody cleared their throat behind her, and Frances flinched, turning around.
Benjamin stood in the curtained doorway, looking sheepish.
“Do forgive me,” he murmured. “I saw you and Lucien across the theatre and made up my mind to come and speak to him. But I see that he’s gone.”
“You’ve just missed him, I’m afraid. He went for oranges.”
Benjamin looked truly disappointed to have missed his friend, and Frances felt a pang of sympathy.
“Why don’t you join us?” she suggested impulsively. “It’s only the two of us here; there’s plenty of room.”
He chuckled wryly. “I’m not sure that Lucien would appreciate my ruining his romantic evening at the opera.”
She bit her lip. “Well, at least stay and wait for him to return.”
Benjamin gave a tight smile. “I might just do that, Your Grace. Thank you.”
He threw himself into the chair which Lucien had recently vacated and stretched his legs out in front of himself.
“If you don’t mind my saying, you and Lucien seem closer than ever,” Benjamin remarked, after a moment of silence.
