Chapter 14: A night at the opera
Summary: Kylo makes a decision regarding the future of his relationship...
[excerpt]:
"Bazine appeared several minutes later. She swept gracefully down the stairs, resplendent in a simple morning dress of French cambric and covered with an emerald cloak of blossom satin trimmed with lace. A white and red cornelian necklace lay delicately against her bosom, and Kylo caught a faint whiff of wild myrtle as she placed a kiss on his cheek.
"Lord Ren," she smiled delightedly. "What a pleasant surprise!"
"Thank you for seeing me, your Grace.""
~O~~O~~O~~O~~O~~O~
Man cannot discover new oceans unless he has the courage to lose sight of the shore
-Philip Stanhope, 4th Earl of Chesterfield
The streets were already bustling, the shouts of the costermongers and the coarse language of the indecent cutting through the mid-morning air as buyers milled around the stalls at the hythe in Billingsgate. A harried woman argued with a peddler selling vegetables in the middle of the crowded street, while a caw-handed fellow stumbled over an irate shopkeeper's step, his apologies indecipherable after a night spent drunk as a wheelbarrow and womble-ty cropt.
Hux walked joyfully amongst the boisterous crowd. The heavy stink of fish and the indiscreet attempts of the jemmy canters did little to dim the beauty of the morning or the spring in his step.
He arrived at the Ordnance Arms later than anticipated, at a quarter past ten. Ren stood, having already started on his repast of toast and a plate of roast beef, accompanied by a tankard of ale.
"Hux," he teased upon seeing his friend's happy expression. "I apologize for eating without you, but I was beginning to wonder whether you would show. Busy night?"
Hux grinned, even as a gentle flush spilled out over his neck, the color noticeable along the top line of his cravat.
"Eggs and bacon, and café au lait," Hux requested of their server before answering Ren. "Busy, indeed," he acknowledged, flashing a rougish grin before his expression grew quiet.
"In all honesty, Ren, I thought my debt to you would be paid by night's end, and yet this morning I find myself to be forever in it."
Ren waved away the sentiment impatiently.
"Hux, you owe me nothing. Have you forgotten how you have saved my life, in more ways than one?"
Hux added a spoonful of Lisbon sugar to his drink, sighing in pleasure at the piquant flavor as the warmth settled into his stomach. He spread a thin coating of marmalade on his brioche before cutting into his eggs, keeping his voice low against the clinking of the flatware and the cadence of the conversations taking place in the background.
"Isabelle is an incredible woman. In many ways you know that, better than I," he admitted, without a hint of reproach. "However, it is not just her worldliness and self-assurance, nor her beauty which proves most attractive. I feel...as if I can trust her. To trust myself, more correctly, to bare my emotions without being judged unfairly, nor to be deemed inadequate, because of them."
He finished his thoughts with a rush. "We discussed my relationship with my family last night."
Tawny eyes locked onto green, as Ren looked at Hux from above the edge of his cup. He understood immediately what Hux was implying, and he also knew that there were very few people who were aware of the scandalous circumstances of his birth. He patiently waited for Hux to continue.
"As weighty as the revelation was, she took it as nothing more than a matter of fact. It affected her opinion of me not in the very least. For the first time in my life, I have the opportunity to pursue a relationship with a woman without carrying the specter of my secret. And although I cannot predict how things will evolve, I must say that I am optimistic.
"Ren, at the risk of sounding overly sentimental, you have introduced me to the possibilities of romance, and of love. Of finally leading a fulfilling and complete life. These are possibilities which I had until now never allowed to wish for my own. And in this sense, you have saved me as well."
Kylo lowered his drink, unable to hide his grin. "It is overly sentimental, Hux. But I admit that I cannot be happier to hear that two of my closest friends for whom I care so dearly have found true love, and especially with one another."
True love. He felt a pang and yearning as soon as he spoke those words.
Hux was much too observant to miss the wistful expression which crossed Kylo's face.
"Isabelle believes that you fancy Miss Kenobi," he said slowly, growing emboldened as Kylo did not deny the statement. "I believe the interest may be mutual."
Ren toyed with the handle of his cup, remaining hopefully silent.
"Rey is a wonderful young woman, Ren," Hux continued. "She deserves to be happy, as do you. Will you finally allow yourself, after all these years, to be so?"
Kylo sighed. "We shared a kiss. It was a momentary lapse of propriety, on my part," he admitted, closing his eyes briefly. "But I cannot say that I am sorry to have done so. It was-well, wonderful." He nearly blushed, finding a sudden interest in the napkin which lay in front of him instead.
Hux raised his brow at the revelation. "And after the kiss? You did not find your cheek on the receiving end of her hand?"
Kylo let out a rueful laugh. "No. Luckily, things did not progress further, as we were not in the most private of settings." Kylo recalled the beautiful pink of Rey's cheeks, the growing wonderment and desire in her eyes, as well as the unspoken invitation to repeat the action on her wet and parted lips. It was only upon hearing Daniels' formal voice as he greeted another caller that they stopped, preventing the situation from devolving into something even more inappropriate.
"Hmmm." Hux pushed back his plate, a mischievous glint lighting his eyes. Kylo's own narrowed suspiciously in response.
"What is going on in that shrewd mind of yours, General?" he asked.
Hux laughed. "Nothing particularly devious, Ren. I was just thinking; I have asked Isabelle's permission to court her properly. I was wondering if you would like to do the same."
He laughed again as Kylo arched an eyebrow. "You know what I mean, you deviant. You wooing Miss Kenobi. Perhaps it is time to make honest men out of the both of us."
Kylo smiled. "I admit that I am not adverse to the thought. Although, it may be too late," he added with a trace of bitterness. "Lord Thanisson has also expressed more than a passing interest in Rey. I do believe that she has a fondness for him, but to what extent, I do not know."
Hux exhaled. "Damn, Ren. I'm sorry."
"She has accepted his invitation to see Fidelio tonight, at Drury Lane, I will be accompanying them, doing my best not to act like a hell-born-babe."
"Perhaps Isabelle and I may attend as well?" Hux offered. "To keep you company, and to ascertain with more objective eyes and the benefit of Isabelle's feminine intuition what the young pair's feelings for each other may truly be?"
Kylo brightened at the thought.
"I do believe that I will take you up on your offer. I will send Mitaka out to procure our tickets for one of the boxes as soon as possible, lest we end up in the gallery with the rest of the rabble."
~O~~O~~O~~O~~O~~O~~O~
The warmer weather and the curiosity regarding another revision of Beethoven's only operatic work brought out the rabble in full force. Massive chandeliers hung suspended from the ceilings, their candles brightly illuminating the gallery below. The steady din of loud conversation and the frequent peals of bawdy laughter lent a raucous atmosphere to an already crowded theater. The audience in the floor seats rarely remained still, some shouting their greetings to acquaintances seated in a nearby aisle, while others eagerly held onto pieces of rotting fruit, the hidden objects ready to become airborne at a moment's notice in response to a particularly offensive performance. The activities of the those in the pit were even more outlandish, where young men blatantly enjoyed the company of gigglers and women of pleasure, periodically interrupting their activities to gawk at the gentry and aristocracy seated in the public and private boxes above.
Rey scanned the crowd, her body thrumming at the barely restrained energy which seemed at times more befitting of the Bartholomew Fair. She turned to her right, awarding Thanisson a shy smile as she caught his appreciative gaze.
Her heart skipped a beat as he returned her smile. She was dressed in a gown of white taffeta, the silver-threaded, gauzy confection trimmed at the hems and sleeves in the finest French lace. An underskirt of rose satin peeked out below, the subtle flash of color appearing and disappearing with her smallest movement. Long white gloves afforded her modesty, while highlighting the graceful lines of her arms.
Thanisson's eyes lingered over the sweep of her cheek; her eyes were luminous behind their softly tinctured lashes and her face framed in loosened curls.
"The light of these chandeliers cannot hold a candle to your beauty," Thanisson remarked. A flush suffused her cheeks at his compliment, and in that instant, he only had eyes for her as he forgot to lower his voice.
"You take my breath away, Miss Kenobi."
Rey startled as Kylo scraped his chair back loudly, whipping his gaze around towards the younger male and rewarding him a sharp stare. Kylo grit his teeth, willing himself to keep his fists by his side and his mouth closed tight, so neither would lash out in response to his sudden jealousy or Thanisson's bold flirtation.
For not the first time tonight, Kylo questioned the wisdom of his decision to chaperone Rey. In fact, he would prefer to be anywhere else, and in the company of a generous helping of a brandy or two.
Hux cleared his throat, noting his friend's rigid posture. He threw Thanisson a stern look.
"I believe I speak for myself as well as Miss Kenobi's guardian when I say that we are blessed to be in the midst of such fair company. Madame de Montespan and Miss Kenobi, you honor us all with your presence tonight."
Thanisson bowed his head slightly under Hux's gentle rebuke.
Kylo turned his attentions to Rey. His eyes lingered, somewhat mollified as she appeared unaffected by Thanisson's declaration while maintaining an appropriate distance between the two. She sensed his appraisal as she turned, her hazel eyes widening as she took in his possessive gaze.
The look in Kylo's eyes, so dark and dangerous yet fiercely protective, caused her mind to stutter as she was flooded with the sudden memories of their kiss. She had relived that moment in her mind many times since, awash with their unequivocal need. She recalled the gentle surprise in Kylo's expression as their lips finally met, as well as the reluctance which followed as he retreated, the magic of the moment prorogued by an unexpected visitor in the hall.
Yet she also recalled his kiss with Bazine. It had been a more practiced kiss, one which spoke of both hunger and familiarity, and one in which she could do little to erase the rememberances of the Duchess' sighs or the images of her hand splayed possessively across Kylo's back on the night of the Winter's Ball.
"Miss Kenobi?"
The sound of her name broke through her ruminations as she focused her attentions back to the start of the performance and the other occupants of the box. An older woman –Madame de Montespan, she recalled from their earlier introduction—sat next to Hux. She was sophisticatedly attired and gracefully poised, with a beauty befitting her experience and age. Rey noted the way in which the General's gaze had lingered on the brunette, and the knowing smile which graced his lips as she spoke. His behavior hinted at an intimate relationship between the two, as he discreetly rested his hand on her own, the woman responding by subtly leaning into his touch.
Isabelle addressed Rey, her blue eyes lively and sparkling.
"I heard that this is your first time at the opera, Miss Kenobi. What a wonderful treat!"
"Yes. I was excited when Lord Thanisson suggested it. I have never heard Beethoven's work performed," Rey smiled.
Isabelle looked at Rey conspiratorially. "I cannot think of a more well-suited composer for this libretto. Leonore is a true heroine, a strong woman whose fidelity and passion for her beloved never wavers despite the dangerous circumstances which befalls them both. It is quite a different perspective of women compared to Così fan tutte; Mozart's work also explores the question of a woman's fidelity, although the heroines in that story eventually fall prey to the machinations and seductions of men."
"I think that it would be difficult to judge the fidelity of others without knowing the entirety of their circumstances," Rey replied thoughtfully. "However for me, I find the ideal of the purity of love-of a strong and unwavering bond between two people-to be the most romantic and powerful one of all." Kylo's eyes never left her as she spoke, and she stirred uncomfortably, growing increasingly self-conscious under his inscrutable expression and darkening gaze.
"Ahhh, perhaps you have a bit of Leonore in you as well," Isabelle replied, smiling.
The night was magical, Rey was quickly swept up into the story, her programme forgotten at her side. The singers' voices soared along with the difficult and technically nearly impossible composition, as Leonore's breathtaking soprano cut through the emotion and syncopations and the brashness of the other instruments with her recitative airs. It was as if the musicians and performers were struggling against the limitations of their humanity in portraying such a staggering work, showcasing the progress of a journey expressed through selfless acts of steadfast love. And in the denoument, when good finally triumphed over evil as a result of Leonore's struggle against moumental odds, Rey stood, weeping at the beauty and majesty of it all.
Such sentiments may have raised nary an eyebrow in the seats below, but in the boxes her emotional outburst could have easily drawn gasps of shock or looks of censure. Thanisson, however, was utterly enchanted at her ingenuousness, his initial shock morphing quickly into a wide grin as the warmth and desire which he felt for her spread even deeper into his heart.
x.x
Their party exited the theater at the end of the performance. It was a beautiful night; Thanisson remained at Rey's side, eager to continue their conversation, preferably with a modicum of privacy and away from the stern watch of Ren.
Isabelle reached out to Kylo, her fingers resting gently on his arm, leading him forward and ahead of the pair.
"Non, mon cher," she urged. "It is obvious that the girl has feelings for you. Yet she is conflicted; you will not win her heart by controlling her actions and limiting her choices."
Kylo reluctantly kept his distance, staying with Hux and Isabelle as Thanisson and Rey fell several paces behind.
"I can't do this," Kylo said, his voice hoarse with frustration. "I've had to sit there for hours, going horn mad as Thanisson makes moon eyes like a rosy-gilled dimber-cove. And now you want me to stand aside as he attempts to drive himself deeper into Rey's affections."
"Giving a woman who is used to making her own decisions the opportunity to make the right one is not 'standing aside,'" Isabelle chided. "I am not saying that you should remove yourself completely from her dance card, only that you do not crowd her space and tread on her toes."
She took in Kylo's mutinous glare, followed by the defeated slump in his shoulders as she added softly.
"I have seen the way in which she looks at you, when she thinks that no one is watching. Her face is so very expressive; she is no femme sournoise, with the ability to hide her feelings behind a mask of artifice. I see in her an innocence, and yet a simmering strength and passion, and if what I suspect is correct, I do believe that the young Lord Thanisson, as pleasant and pleasing as he is, will prove to be inadequate for her in the end. Remember: 'The passions are the only orators which always persuade.'"
Kylo gave Isabelle a wry look.
"I wonder if de La Rochefoucauld had ever met a woman such as Rey. Although passion may have a strong place in influencing the direction of her attachment, I doubt that she would allow her life to be defined by a bon mot, as pithy as it may be."
Hux looked at his friend knowingly.
"Ren. I have seen a hope in you that I have not seen for the past ten years. It is a hope for the chance at love and happiness, and for a future no longer filled with endless and meaningless dalliances, with only yourself to keep you company in the end. You need to seize that chance, and in order to do so properly, you also need the courage to let go.
"Let go of your past," Hux continued. "Let Bazine go, once and for all. Cut the poison out of your life. It will leave you with a more open heart and a clearer mind, for it is only then that you can properly pursue Rey's affections, without further confusing both yourself and the poor girl."
Kylo thought about his friends' words. They struck true to his heart. He knew that Bazine wanted more, that she desired a future with him which he was now both unable and unwilling to provide. Were she to remain in his life, he would be forever tethered to his past, with one foot in the ocean while the other remained on shore.
"I will pay a call to the Duchess tomorrow," he said resolutely, as he looked longingly back at Rey.
By the time the group had reached Mayfair, Thanisson reluctantly took his leave. The young lord hesitated, still wary of Kylo's looming presence. He gazed at Rey, admiring her enthusiasm and curiosity, her intelligence and perspicacity, and her candid and guileless nature. He had started the Season with little hope or even the desire to find himself attached to a girl on the hunt for a husband, and yet he now found himself ensnared, longing for something more than Rey's graceful presence or fleeting touch.
He could, in fact, envision himself proposing by Season's end were she to reciprocate his feelings.
Thanisson inclined his head in a bow as Rey curtsied. She caught the direction of Thanisson's eyes: how they lingered first on her hand, before moving up to her lips. His pupils darkened imperceptibly, and she tried to imagine the feel of his mouth if they were to kiss. She imagined that his breath would be warm and sweet, comforting and chaste, and the thought of it left her with a steadiness and pleasantry in her heart. As she imagined it more, however, the kiss changed. It deepened as Thanisson's form grew broader and taller, his light brown hair turning long and dark, his face becoming elongated and scarred, and his clean scent turning sharp with the smell of pine and an overwhelming masculinity which caused her heart to race, filling her with the need to lose herself in his passionate embrace.
She watched Thanisson as he pulled away, her cheeks flaming with unabashed desire as she finally turned around and caught Kylo's covetous stare
~O~~O~~O~~O~~O~~O~~O~
Kylo stood in front of the home in Portman Square, its stuccoed exterior, medieval motifs and fanciful Gothic curves reminding him uncomfortably of Ambria House. A sense of foreboding washed over him as he held his breath and knocked.
He was greeted at the door by Mr. Tarkin. The elderly butler quickly recovered from his surprise, restoring the typically inscrutable expression on his pinched and severe face upon seeing Kylo.
"Lord Ren," he greeted, taking Kylo's hat and overcoat. "Is Her Grace expecting you?"
Kylo shook his head. "I apologize for the untimeliness of my visit," he said. It was just after breakfast, too early for a proper morning call. He had timed his visit purposefully, aware of the probability that his news would be greeted in a most unfavorable fashion, subjecting them both to the on dits of wagging tongues should other visitors be near.
"Mr. Tarkin, I need to speak with the Duchess, if she is available. It is a private matter, of the utmost discretion and importance."
The elderly man inclined his head. "I shall see if she is ready for visitors," he replied, leaving Kylo waiting in the entranceway.
Kylo stood, glancing at the expensive furniture and works of art which decorated the walls. He was filled with the bittersweet memories of a young girl of seven, one who watched him shyly as he playfully sparred, dressed uncomfortably in a faded gown and self-conscious despite her precocious beauty.
Bazine appeared several minutes later. She swept gracefully down the stairs, resplendent in a simple morning dress of French cambric and covered with an emerald cloak of blossom satin trimmed with lace. A white and red cornelian necklace lay delicately against her bosom, and Kylo caught a faint whiff of wild myrtle as she placed a kiss on his cheek.
"Lord Ren," she smiled delightedly. "What a pleasant surprise!"
"Thank you for seeing me, your Grace," Kylo said, as she laughed at his stiff greeting.
"Please, Kylo. We have known each other since we were children. Let us dispense with such formalities." She led him past the dining room and into the conservatory. The weather was warming and they stood on the porch, overlooking the grounds outside. The garden beds were already showing the promises of Spring, a riot of small green buds peeking up above the softening grounds, the promise of life following the starkness of winter.
Once they were out of the hearing of Mr. Tarkin, Bazine moved closer, her eyes bright with want.
"I've missed you so much, Kylo," she breathed. "I have been trying to allow you your time, but London has not been the same without you by my side. I know that you have been busy introducing your ward to the haute ton. I hear that she has captured the Lord Thanisson's affections?"
Kylo tried to keep his voice even. "He has not declared his intentions as of yet, one way or another."
Bazine's eyes narrowed upon hearing Kylo's guarded response.
"Surely, someone with such a novel story, as the newly discovered ward of one of the most eligible bachelors in London, would capture at least one man's interest. And she is at least passably attractive, despite her boyish figure and unbecoming complexion."
"What is considered beautiful by some is not always to others, Bazine," Kylo said meaningfully. "But I did not come all this way to discuss Miss Kenobi's status in society."
"Of course, my Lord," Bazine said, more than eager to drop the subject. "I would rather talk of the upcoming Masquerade Ball at Vauxhall. I was hoping we would finally make an appearance together; I have such wonderful ideas for our costumes and dress!"
"I am afraid that will not be possible," Kylo said slowly, his stomach plummeting in anticipation of what lay ahead.
"You are not going, darling? But you must! Everyone who is anyone will be there!"
Kylo watched the confusion on her face. There was no denying that Bazine was objectively beautiful. Even this morning, with only the faintest hint of color on her lips and pink in her cheeks, her complexion was flawless. Her lashes were long and lush and her hair shiny and lustrous, peeking out in soft curls from underneath the brim of her cap. He found his anger and hatred for their past washing away. He thought it ironic, that he was once again able to appreciate her physical beauty as their relationship was quickly fading into the past, and as she slowly disappeared from his future.
"No, Bazine," Kylo corrected gently. "I will be there. But not with you, and not as a couple."
A shocked and hurt look crossed her face. She rearranged her features into a pout, and looked at him beseechingly from underneath her lashes, the faint sheen of tears pricking the corners of her eyes. He briefly entertained the notion that they may have even been real.
"I don't understand."
"I was willing to spend time with you, to rekindle our friendship at the very least. But our relationship has irrevocably changed. There is too much which has happened, and too much time which has passed. I know what you seek, and I will never be able to give that to you," he added, imploring her to understand. "It would be unfair of me to promise, to allow you to hold out hope for something which will never be."
Bazine staggered; her face flushed a deep red. "Is there someone else?" she whispered, her chest heaving as she tried to catch her breath. Her mind screamed as she saw all of her carefully crafted plans come tumbling down. She was suffocating, her childhood dreams, her lifelong love gone, slipping through her grasp, and leaving her all alone.
"Whether there is or is not is irrelevant, Bazine. You and I cannot recapture what we have already lost. We are hardly the same people that we were at eight, or eighteen."
She caught the flash of guilt in his eyes as he spoke. "There is," she hissed. "There is someone else. I never figured you for a coward, Kylo. Who is it? Since you are being so honest with me about your feelings, why don't you tell me?"
Kylo stood. "I have said all that I needed to say, Bazine. Despite everything, I still retain some fond memories of our past, and regret that it must end this way."
"It's her, isn't it? Your ward?" she screeched, her features distorted in her fury. "Perhaps that is where your interests lie-with a slip of a girl, who barely looks to be a woman. Do her paltry curves and thin form make you hard? Do you relish the idea of giving someone with the appearance of a mere child a green gown, or mayhap you crave a boyish form, to indulge in sodomy, as a closeted gentleman of the back door?!"
Kylo stopped. When he turned around, his eyes were cold and unforgiving, and she realized at that moment she had gone too far, and that he was lost to her forever.
"Say what you will of my nature, Bazine, but I will not tolerate such falsities regarding Miss Kenobi. She is more of a lady than you will ever be. Though you disparage her good nature and appearance, she would never stoop to being such a harridan or evil shrew."
Bazine screamed, heaving a vase at his retreating form. She clutched at the various objects in her sight, losing herself in the din of the crashing and splintering sounds, contenting herself in the destruction which she set around her as her world and her dreams became quickly destroyed. Her wailing cries filled the air, and the ache in her heart subsumed all rational thought, until the emptiness was filled with such an anger and hate that her cruelty overtook her hysteria and replaced it with a truly malevolent thought.
She ran upstairs, opening her lock box and retrieved the letter:
À l'œuvre, on connaît l'artisan
Les habitudes ont la vie dure
À la prochaine
A slow smile graced her lips as she read over the words. Until next time, indeed.
She collected herself, rinsing away her tears and the blotchiness which stained the purity of her face, soothing the mottled skin with a toner of rose water and a beef marrow mask. She brushed out her hair, restoring its glossiness and sheen with a light application of oils and pinning it back with an ornately jeweled comb. She chose a half-dress in a rich robin-egg blue, the low cut framing her sumptuous breasts, as the flowing fabric graced the curve of her tiny waist.
By the time she headed out, making her way towards Albemarle Street, everything was artfully arranged to maximize the impact of her stunning looks. She preened at the appreciative glances she received, subtly acknowledging the open invitation and desire in their gaze as the gentlemen tipped their hats her way.
She knocked on the door to a room at the Grillon's Hotel. Her pride and her confidence were restored, and a hunger for revenge now filled her belly. She heard a rustling and some footsteps inside, and she used the time to loosen her pelisse, lowering the fabric to display the graceful line of her neck and to bare the tops of her shoulders.
The door opened.
"Your Grace. To what do I owe the pleasure?"
Bazine smiled seductively, taking in the lust which flashed in the younger man's eyes and his barely suppressed leer. She lowered her voice, forcing him to lean further forward, her sweet breath swirling around them in an enticing caress.
"I am in need of a favor. I have a proposition for you, one which I think will prove most beneficial to us both."