Red Wine For Miss Parker(10)

Suddenly he did not plot how to throw her over the balcony anymore, but to throw her down to the ground and undress her, spread her legs and mount her. He could vividly picture her turquoise eyes, brimming with desire as he would enter her hitherto untouched body. How would it feel when her virginal flesh surrounded him? He imagined her crying out his name when he broke her. How she would be his alone! He closed his eyes and drew in more of her magical scent.





Unfortunately it is a condition of the human body not only to inhale, but to exhale as well.

"Flora…" It came out of him before he even knew it.

She could not possibly have heard him, could she? It had been just a whisper and the orchestra was playing a resounding forte, but when Francesco's hot breath touched Miss Parker's naked skin, she shivered and straightened abruptly.

The metal clasps in her hair hit hard against the Prince's face.

It all went very fast from there.

He howled, Miss Parker shrieked and the audience screamed.

The lights went on.

Francesco found himself and his splendid white uniform covered in blood.

"Maledetta strega!" he spat.

This little fay has lulled my senses with a devilish concoction!

Soon his vision was impaired by more blood running into his eyes and across his face.

"What? What happened?" The succubus called Miss Parker whimpered.

"Un'attentato! Un'attentato! Assassins!" Somebody shouted from the pit. "L'Arciduca! Hanno ucciso l'Arciduca! Un'attentato! They have assassinated the Archduke! They have killed him!"

Francesco's guards, who had kept at a discreet distance so far, were in the box at once and soldiers were storming the pit, sabres drawn.

"Fermi! Stop!" Francesco screamed as general havoc threatened to break out. "Sto bene, sto bene! I'm fine! Keep on playing, nothing's happened!"

"You don't say…" the Duchess remarked sardonically.

She was right. The Prince was in agony. His face hurt like hell.

Clara was on him. "Frankie! Frankie, stay calm, we will help you! Flora is very wise, she will know what to do!"

"No! Non lei, non lei, Chiara mia, tu mi aiuti e nessun altro, hai capito?" He spoke Italian to Clara, not wanting Miss Parker to understand him, telling his cousin he did not want the wicked sprite anywhere near him.

"I didn't mean to— I wasn't— He— What does maledetta strega mean? " Francesco heard Miss Parker's shaky voice as he was carefully led towards the exit by Clara and a guardsmen.

"Oh," Ludwig von Hohenstein responded readily, "I belief it means ackurrset vitch."

"Accursed Vitch? You mean, accursed witch?"

"Yes, as I said, ackurrset vitch."

"Oh, no, I never…" The girl was sobbing now.

Suddenly Francesco wanted to turn around and tell her he had not meant it, that he was sorry, that… I don't know, something!

He did try to turn but he hit his face again. This time it was an iron helmet.

His lights went out.





Seven





Palazzo Sforza, Flora's Chamber, evening of June 29th, 1823





Had it really happened?

Had it really, really, really happened?

Had she really bloodied a royal prince's handsome face? Well, if it still was handsome after her clasps had cut him open in at least three places.

Good God, she could be hanged for it!

Or maybe not, she had not done it on purpose. But did that even matter, here, in a country ruled by Karlsburgs?





"I've never known anybody to be such a jinx." Eugenia St. Yves was gently stroking Flora's curls.

"How did you stay so calm when all hell broke lose last night?" Flora asked her friend.

She had spent the entire day in bed, feigning to be ill.

"I grew up on a battlefield," Gigi said.

"Oh, right," Flora moaned. "I remember. Your mother was following your father wherever he went, with you in tow. How in love she must have been."

"Very much, I believe."

"Eugenia also has to deal with me every day," Dominic St. Yves said from the door. "She has iron nerves."

Surrey! Where did he come from? He must have sneaked up on us, that dreadful man!

"Dominic!" Gigi goggled at her — Flora had to confess it — incredibly gorgeous husband, as if she saw him for the first time.

Almost as gorgeous as the Prince. Almost.

Flora sat up. "Are there news? How is he?"

"Yes, there are news. A messenger from Castello Maggiore brought a letter from Francis. He's thanking my sister and my wife very much for their assistance, bla bla bla. You can deduce accordingly that, much to my displeasure, he's still alive. You should have aimed your clasps more precisely, Miss Parker, you know… sideways." He imitated the movement with his own head. "And stick him with the pointy end."