Red Wine For Miss Parker(8)
Clara was scowling badly but got up from the divan.
She's a weird girl. So rash. Well, she must be quite shaken from the meeting with the Prince. I still am for a certainty, and he has not raised me from the cradle.
From the ground, yes. With his strong arms... And I behaved so terribly towards him, ranting as if I had rabies! Why can't I ever be silent? He must think me an awful nuisance and I'm sure my face was flushed bright red. I must have looked like tomato with hair. I always do when I'm angry… Oh hush. What does it matter? I will most likely never see the man again.
Five
From Miss Flora Parker's Diary
June 28th, 1823
I saw the prince tonight… and broke his nose.
Six
Teatro della Scala, Milan, June 28th,1823
It was to be Gioachino Rossini's „La Donna del Lago", the melodramatic opera based on Sir Walter Scott's "The Lady of the Lake." It was the story of a woman whose love had almost caused a war.
Actually, it's the story of a crazy girl who, crossing a lake in a boat to get to her one true love, falls into the arms of the king, who falls in love with her. She, on the other hand, is engaged to a third man whom she does not love, so what is there to do but sing about it for two hours and a half?
Francesco had been at the premiere in Naples four years earlier and was not keen on seeing the number again. But since he was in Milan and all of his friends were going, he had conceded to their biddings and accompanied them. After all, it was the Scala, good singing was to be expected and if not, he could amuse himself by watching the guests.
The Prince was lounging comfortably against a balustrade, chatting nonsense with his friend Conte Giancarlo Giabiconi. Giabiconi was recounting a hunting adventure to some detail and Francesco kept interspersing appreciative noises after every second sentence or so, when he saw the Surrey party enter the foyer.
The Duchess came in first.
She was wearing an emerald green grown of Italian making with a revealing neckline and matching jewellery. Her hair was braided and pinned up, creating the vision of a crown. She was followed by Clara in a white dress and a much simpler coiffure, as befitted her status.
My little Chiara. She's grown up! She's certainly going to get married soon. But to whom? Nobody is worthy of her!?
Everyone in the hall was appraising the unknown beauties and the envy of enumerable southern ladies hovered in the air like a poisonous cloud.
Right they are. He himself had always taken a strong preference to blondes.
Then something strange occurred.
He could not explain it then, nor would he ever be able to explain it in the future.
A very small and dark haired girl in a light blue dress walked briskly through the foyer and joined the Surrey ladies.
Francesco felt an onslaught of dizziness. His stomach churned violently.
He looked away and shook his head.
The dizziness was gone.
He turned back, saw the blondes, saw the brunette and— there it was again!
"Madonna Santa!" the Count cried. "Francesco! Are you not listening? Are you not well?"
"No, no, I am fine. Forgive me, Giancarlo, I need to welcome some acquaintances of mine."
Clara spotted the Prince first and smiled broadly. "There's Frankie!" she announced happily to the others.
The Duchess looked up and gave a nod of recognition.
The dark haired female in the blue dress lifted her head as well and huge turquoise eyes opened like magnificent orchid blossoms.
Good God! It's that dreadful Miss… Miss.. Err… Parker! Has she looked this…"je-ne-sais-quoi"… before? All I remember is a tomato with hair, but she is… she is… what is she?
It annoyed him that he could not find a suitable adjective for Miss Parker, in fact, all of a sudden the very presence, yes somehow the sheer existence of Miss Parker annoyed him savagely.
What was she doing here with the elegant blondes? She had no business trolling behind them, ruining the handsome picture they made. She, with her dark curls, stern face and that piercing gaze! She looked right into his soul, he was sure of it! Abominable person!
But she was very pretty, he had to admit, if one liked brunettes, which he most definitely did not!
Actually, looking closely, she's more than pretty, isn't she, she's so… hmmm… what?… appetising? Yes, one must say that she does look appetising! Like a blueberry parfait. A poisonous blueberry parfait most likely.
Again, the orchid eyes turned on him.
He shuddered!
Somebody save me! That blue dwarf wants to murder me!
"Cousin!" The Duchess held out her hand to be kissed.
"I dare say you are the most beautiful women in all of Europe, dear Eugenia, and I fear your are endangered of having your wonderful neck cut by some Signora's hair pin tonight!"