Author's Note: Fondest greetings to you all. Once again, I own nothing except that which you do not already recognize.
The Patron of the Opera – Chapter One
She leaned forward in her seat as the carriage moved slowly through the crowded streets of Paris.
"So explain this again to me, William. You managed to get away with only paying for the publicity costs? Poligny actually agreed to cover the sets, costumes, artist salaries...everything?"
Her companion reclined on the velvet cushions on the other side of the brougham and absently twirled the tip of his blond mustache. "Of course, Lady O'Connor; I only used my master talents of manipulation with him; the man was putty in my hands!"
Her eyes sparkled with amusement as she smirked and replied "You, my dear baron, could not manipulate a wooden puppet much less the manager of one of the leading opera companies in the world!"
Taking her gloved hand within his own, he raised it to his lips and kissed it. "And you, my dear lady, are completely to blame. You are far too manipulative and keep me out of practice; you always manipulate me!"
Pulling her hand from his grasp, she pretended to be offended but her laughing eyes betrayed her amusement. With a sly grin, she leaned even further forward. "You, my dear baron, are in desperate need of manipulation..."
With this, the woman leaned across the carriage and kissed her companion chastely on the cheek. At that precise moment, the carriage hit a bump in the road and she lost her balance, falling into the lap of her consort. Worried, he began to check her for injuries but then she began to laugh, softly at first and then heartily. By the time the two had reached their destination at the Palais Garnier, they were both laughing hysterically with tears glistening in their eyes.
The carriage stopped at the rotunda on the Rue Scribe and the footman opened the door, allowing Baron William Harrington to descend first. Baron Harrington was tall and fair, sporting a thick head of blond hair and clear, blue eyes. Although he was past his prime, he was still muscular and most certainly did not look his age of 37 years.
Lady Rose O'Connor was then helped from the carriage. Dressed in a somber but stylish hunter green traveling gown, she looked the part of the perfect Victorian lady. Her dress, although she had been traveling for hours, was immaculate and not a stray hair was to be found in her thick knot of auburn hair. Her accessories were made with pearls; a simple pearl brooch at her collar, pearl earrings, a gold and pearl bracelet at her wrist, and a pearl studded hatpin fastened her hunter green bonnet to her head completed her ensemble.
"You are aware that they were not expecting us until tomorrow. Do you really wish to surprise them an afternoon early, my lady?"
"William, how ever are we to see how the company truly works unless we make a few impromptu visits? You are perfectly well aware that they will be on their best behavior for your visit tomorrow morning when you sign the contracts. Don't you wish to see them as they really are?"
"I agree with you on that point, my lady. But I merely thought that you may not desire to be present when I see how miserable this company is when they are not being strictly monitored."
"It is my production as well as yours, William, and so I think that I too should shoulder the burden of inefficient, talent-less opera companies. Especially this one...you managed to land a contract which gives us absolute freedom to make this the way we've always wanted it to be and I want this to be as perfect as it can possibly be."
"Well," sweeping his arm towards the grand building, "my only concern is that this production is as great as you've always wanted it to be. If you're sure then let us proceed, my lady."
"How on earth are we supposed to learn Russian? As if anybody in the theater could possibly understand this piece of rubbish?" La Carlotta, resident prima donna and connoisseur of fine chocolates, yelled to the directors.
"If nobody can understand the words, then nobody can understand my part and therefore nobody will understand the opera!"
Poligny, gulping at his brandy for courage, was already red in the face from listening to the soprano's ranting ever since he had posted the cast list and passed out the parts. Cusset stood from his seat in the auditorium and approached the stage with his arms spread in a gesture of supplication.
"Signora, please understand...this opera will only be running for a week and..."
"Exactly! The opera runs for one week, but I am expected to learn another language for it. Why not just have the 'la petite femme' translate it for us or is it too large a feat for a simple, woman composeress?"
"Actually," a strong, female voice called from the back of the auditorium, "it would be quite a simple feat for one such as me, but it would defy the intents of the composer. And I am quite sure that you, as an artist yourself, would understand the importance of being familiar with several languages lest you lose your reputation for artistic versatility." The last of this was spoken in Spanish and dripped with more than just a little sarcasm.
"Who dares to challenge La Carlotta!", "Who do you think you are?", and "They're early! Get me a drink!" were shouted simultaneously from Carlotta, Cusset, and Poligny as Lady O'Connor and Baron Harrington walked to the front of the auditorium.
"I simply wished to see the grandeur of this theater before signing the contract, messieurs." William announced. "And I thought that there was simply no time to spare as your gala performance is in a week's time. Lady O'Connor also wished to accompany myself so that she could see to the casting and arranging of the orchestra before rehearsal tomorrow morning."
"The casting, monsieur? We've already settled the casting and our orchestra is already quite well arranged!" Poligny announced, obviously ruffled by the impertinence of the two foreigners before him. "We have no need of a woman's assistance as we are quite capable of..."
"Monsieur Poligny, I thought that in the contract with...um...O.G., you had agreed to let Madame O'Connor have full control over choir and orchestra." Cusset interjected. "And of course, Madame, we will be happy to respect all of your wishes regarding this production. Won't we, M. Poligny." He bowed down in front of her and when he straightened himself, glared at Poligny until he conceded.
"Why yes, of course...I apologize for earlier, I believe that that had slipped my mind. Heh heh..." He giggled awkwardly. "I need a drink, anyone care for a brandy?"
Quirking her head thoughtfully at Poligny, Rose asked "A contract with O.G.? Who is O.G., Monsieur?"
"Oh, he's just a patron. Nobody to be concerned about. Not at all! Forget I mentioned him. Now then, who wants a brandy?" he asked enthusiastically.
"I would very much care for a brandy, Monsieur, while we look over the accounts." William said amiably. "But I believe that Lady O'Connor would much rather prefer to meet the cast and crew. Am I correct, my lady?"
Nodding and smiling to him, Rose replied "Of course, I would love to meet the members of the company, if that is at all possible."
"Anything is possible for you, Madame. Come; let me introduce you to the musicians first. The chorus and ballet are rehearsing."
With that, Cusset and Rose walked away, leaving William and Poligny together. Poligny smirked and winked conspiringly at the baron as he indicated the departing lady.
"I must say, Monsieur, you are very lucky to have such a beautiful woman as your...um...traveling companion."
William stiffened at these implications and turned to Poligny, fixing him with a cold glare as he stared down at the shorter man.
"Understand this, monsieur. You will NOT insult that woman again in my presence. If you so much as even insinuate anything inappropriate about her, I will make sure that you will regret it dearly. I have absolutely no interest in your company at all. But this production means a great deal to her and I expect that you will do all in your power to make this piece as grand as it possibly can be. That will include improving the conduct of yourself and your staff. If I am not satisfied with their performance or yours, I will see that my demands are met. On occasion, I am not averse to using less-than-gentlemanly methods to get my way. Do I make myself clear?"
Poligny, whose face had been red with brandy merely moments before, now sported the white pallor that was normally reserved for his meetings with the Opera Ghost. Never in his career had he ever met a patron who felt so strongly about his mistress that he would threaten a fellow gentleman for the minor crime of insulting one who was little more than a common whore. Regardless, it was obvious that this man was not one to be disappointed.
"Well," Poligny stuttered in a weak tone, "I...um..."
"Perhaps we could share a bit of that brandy, Monsieur." William smiled, showing a mouthful of even, white teeth and acting as though his prior threats had never taken place.
"Certainly..." Poligny took his lead and led William to his office in search of a brandy that he badly needed. This man was not one to be disappointed.
Rose was quite enthusiastic about the production by the time she met William on the grand staircase of the opera. In her arms, she carried a stack of papers and had her handbag perched precariously on top of them. Smiling at her, William took the stack of papers and escorted her out to their carriage.
"Did you enjoy yourself today, my lady?"
"For heaven's sake William, we're done for the day so call me 'Rose'! And I had a wonderful time today...there's so much to do but I really think that these people can pull it off! I need to rework the casting and change a few of the orchestrations so they feature the better musicians and come to think of it, hand me the cast list please...I need to figure out who will play Nikolai and the General Ravinov and..."
She looked at William, who was barely suppressing his laughter, and smiled and blushed at him.
"I'm rambling again, aren't I? I'm sorry, I'm just very excited."
He helped her up into the carriage and with a sly grin replied "Really? I believe I didn't notice." She flashed a smile at him then and he sat next to her in the carriage, taking both of her hands in his. "But truly, Rose, are you happy with the arrangements?"
"Yes, William. I am happy with all of the arrangements. Thank you for all of your help with this...I cannot express to you what it means to me to be able to do this..."
"It makes me happy to do this for you. If this work pleases you, then it pleases me as well; I can only be content when you are happy and at my side..."
The cheer fell from her face and she looked at him with eyes that were deadened without their sparkle. "William...I...I don't...I can't..." she whispered brokenly.
Straightening himself in his seat, William gathered his composure and dismissed the somber attitude with a smile and reassuring laugh. "Dear, don't upset yourself over this issue again. I will wait for you as long as I must...now enough of this talk! Let me know what it was like dealing with the brats of the stage? You've got your work cut out for you from the looks of it."
Allowing herself to forget the awkwardness of the prior seconds, Rose returned his smile weakly. "Yes, I suppose I do...but I daresay I've fared better than you, William."
"Why on earth would you say that?"
The smirk was back on her face and her eyes once again held a mischievous twinkle. "Because you've got to deal with Cusset and Poligny...God, what swine those two are. At least Cusset isn't as bad as the other. By the way, does Poligny make a habit of performing druid sacrifices in that office of his?"
"What in heaven's name are you talking about?"
"Didn't the ancient druids sacrifice sheep? Every time I crossed the man today, I smelled burnt wool. Didn't you notice it as well?"
"As a matter of fact, I did. I merely thought it a figment of my imagination. Though come to think of it, the smell was much stronger in his office and there were the most peculiar marks on his desk..."
The sound of their laughter rang from the carriage as it rolled through the cramped streets of Paris.
A/N: I'd like to add that I am well aware that 'composeress' really isn't a word…but Carlotta is Prima Donna and can make up her own language as she pleases. :-D