The Serenade: The Prince and the Siren

by Hollingsworth, Suzette

  The assassin aimed again. In a split second Alejandro grabbed the Princess Royals helmet sitting on Lord Ravensdale’s desk and placed it in front of his heart just as the man fired. The helmet deflected the bullet.

  “Ahhh!” While attempting to re-position his Colt again on Alejandro, the Spaniard cried out from a blow to the head. A marble bookend in the shape of a horse collided with his head. As he fell, his revolver hit the floor. The rotating cylinder came open, spilling unspent cartridges across the carpet.

  “Santa Maria! You nasty little viper!”

  Alejandro rushed forward to end the assault when the fallen man made an amazing recovery, jumping to his feet.

  At the same time, he gave a high-pitched whistle. Two other men stepped in from behind the balcony, easily accessible through the large public park bordering the property, to greet Alejandro’s advance.

  Their arrival on the scene put a significant damper on Alejandro’s advance. One of the new intruders held a second pistol aimed at the crown prince’s heart. The third man pulled out a large Navaja knife from his wool jacket, flicking it open.

  This is not good. Their chance of survival was now so slim that reckless, unpredictable action was their only hope.

  Alejandro was astonished the blow to the first man’s head hadn’t knocked him out. They were tough. All of the attackers wore thick wool jackets which kept any but the strongest slash from cutting deeply. Nothing but a deep wound would stop these fanatics.

  He could see Nicolette was inching in the direction of the fallen gun, but the men were between her and the gun which lay on the floor in front of him. He knew if he reached for the pistol the second man would shoot him.

  Before making his retreat, Alejandro flicked his sword forward at the new pistol carrier’s left face. The prince’s unexpected attack caused a deep gash, momentarily distracting the villain.

  “Owww!” the second man screamed, blood running down his face.

  The injury only gave Alejandro a moment’s reprieve. He decided he’d best take it to even the odds, or this would be a brief fight.

  And then they would kill Nicolette. Possibly worse.

  The thought emboldened him. Being taller than the three men, Alejandro took his saber and delivered a Oberhau upper strike downward on the third man’s neck, blood pouring forth. He fell to the ground, dead instantly.

  “Bastardo!” the first man screamed, grabbing the dropped Navaja knife.

  “Damn! Why didn’t I take out the pistol carrier?” Alejandro stepped back.

  “Pybus, get the girl!” the first attacker said.

  Pybus turned and aimed his pistol at Nicolette. “Kill the prince, Francisco. I’ll take care of the girl.”

  “No! Don’t harm her!” Alejandro screamed. “Could you honestly shoot a woman, you monster! She is a singer and has nothing to do with the monarchy!”

  “So she is your ladybird?” Pybus asked, his face twisting into the kind of snarl usually reserved for raging great apes.

  “I am an earl’s daughter!” Nicolette retorted.

  This is not helping your case, my heart. A singer was better.

  Nicolette was backed into the door’s corner, now unable to exit. God, I wish she had exited when she might have.

  Now it is too late.

  Alejandro was skilled with a sword, and Lord Ravensdale’s weapon gave him reach over the shorter knives, but he could not compete with the pistol. He could either attempt to run Francisco, the Navaja knife carrier, through the heart—but it would take time—or he could attempt to save Nicolette from Pybus holding the pistol—unlikely—and they would both end up dead.

  In a second’s flash, Alejandro picked up the discarded pistol and hurled it at Pybus’ hand with all his strength.

  “Ouch!” Pybus dropped his gun, which Nicolette hurriedly picked up, pointing the weapon at his chest.

  She started to move the gun onto Francisco who was advancing towards Alejandro—their real prize—when Alejandro yelled, “No! Keep the gun on Pybus! It’s our only hope! Shoot him if he moves.”

  Alejandro wove his blade in a formless pattern. Just as Francisco thrust towards Alejandro with the Navaja, the prince lunged as well, catching his shoulder.

  Francisco’s jacket repelled the blade somewhat. Alejandro sliced the air with the sword, then, looking for the vulnerable spots, jabbed the sword where the anarchist least expected: in his inner thigh, then thrusting the saber into his hip.

  “Owww!” the man screamed, his fury evident. He raised the Navaja to throw at Alejandro, who swiped the sword across the man’s throwing hand, blood trickling onto the knife. Alejandro then took aim for the assassin’s heart.

  Unfortunately the thickness of the jacket and the blade repelled the saber. A rapier would have been a better match.

  Bloody Hell!

  Pybus moved to charge Alejandro, and Nicolette shot him. Unfortunately, the bullet missed the vital organs and hit Pybus in the arm.

  Are these men machines? Nothing seemed to slow them down.

  Nicolette fired again and missed again.

  Remind me to give her shooting lessons if we live.

  Nicolette fired a third time, and nothing happened, only a click.

  “Ha! Ha! There are only two bullets in the gun,” Pybus yelled.

  It looks like we weren’t the only ones to come to the party unprepared. Why someone would bring a gun with only two bullets, Alejandro didn’t know. Possibly hubris.

  Pybus pulled a knife out of his jacket. Both Pybus and Francisco came towards Alejandro with blades. Ah, they appear to be knife men.

  The both raised their knives over their heads. It looked like they weren’t going to opt for the hand-to-hand combat with the sword any longer.

  Alejandro was left with nothing.

  Except the rock on Lord Ravensdale’s mahogany desk. He hurriedly picked up the rock with his free hand, which at threw at Pybus, knocking the knife out of the Anarchist’s hand. Pybus wailed but hurriedly retrieved his knife.

  Getting closer, Francisco aimed the knife, ready to throw it into Alejandro’s chest. Unfortunately, the thug seemed to know what he was doing and had the muscle to back it.

  Just as he was about to release the knife, he fell forward on his own knife, a rapier sword in his back.

  I thought the rapier was a better choice than the saber. Shocked, Alejandro looked over to see Nicolette standing behind the man. “I told you I knew how to wield a sword.”

  She pulled the sword out of Francisco’s back and aimed it towards Pybus, fury written across her face. Alejandro thought he had seen Nicolette angry before, but it was nothing to this.

  Pybus looked at both of them and apparently realized he was now in a bit of trouble, bleeding as he was and two, both with swords, against one. Still, he had come to do a job and he raised his knife towards Alejandro.

  Alejandro raised his sword, ready to deflect a knife thrown at him.

  At the same time they heard a commotion outside the door, Joaquin and Esteban shouting.

  “It’s rude to show up late to a party,” Alejandro murmured.

  Bleeding, Pybus ran towards the balcony doors, picking up the discarded Colt en route. He jumped over the balcony onto the park’s border.

  Esteban and Joaquin rushed the door, Esteban tall and sleek, and Joaquin wide and muscular. Joaquin entered first, obviously the one to break down the door.

  “Good timing,” Alejandro said.

  “Your majesty? Are you all right?” Joaquin demanded.

  “As you see. One of the villains has escaped over the balcony.”

  In a flash, like a blur of color, Esteban was gone, jumping over the balcony.

  “I’ve never seen anyone move so fast,” Nicolette said.

  “I actually didn’t intend for Esteban to follow the man,” Alejandro said. “He never waits for my command; he does as he pleases.”

  We shall have to work on that.

  “Is Senor Xalvador safe?” Nicolette
asked with alarm. “What if that man kills him? Maybe there are others lying in wait.”

  “Bang!” They heard a shot.

  “Ah. I believe Esteban has him.”

  “Aren’t you worried? Shouldn’t you check?”

  “Tengo al canalla!” Esteban’s voice was heard yelling from a distance. I’ve got the scoundrel.

  “Esteban was the victor.” Alejandro frowned. “I wish he hadn’t killed him. I would have liked to hear his story.”

  “His story was he is a madman!” Nicolette exclaimed.

  “Of course. I cannot forgive him for threatening your safety. However, no one becomes demented without some cause,” he said softly. “There is usually a grain of truth even in the worst philosophies.”

  “How do you know Esteban killed him? Maybe he only wounded him.”

  “Esteban doesn’t have a great deal of tolerance for those who threaten my life. He isn’t so philosophical about it.” Alejandro shook his head. “But one of the men may have lead us to a greater threat which requires investigation.”

  “Please forgive my tardiness,” Joaquin pleaded, clearly mortified it was not his life forfeited.

  “Do not concern yourself, Joaquin. Lady Nicolette was here to protect me.”

  “W-what? The l-lady?” Joaquin almost choked on his own words, turning his head rapidly while his cheeks flapped.

  How many times will she save my life?

  Nicolette shrugged. She was still holding the bloody rapier in her hand. “You’re pretty good with rocks, your highness.”

  “It’s my specialty. I was the pride of El Anselmo.”

  Nicolette’s eyes scanned the two dead bodies and the now bloody carpets. She swayed as if she were having difficulty standing. Alejandro took the rapier from her, handing it to Joaquin, who took it, bewildered.

  Alejandro took Nicolette by the waist, leading her to the couch where he helped to seat her.

  “Get her a sherry,” Alejandro commanded to Joaquin, motioning in the direction of the decanter.

  Even as Joaquin delivered the sherry, Alejandro wondered about the other guests at the dinner party who might have passed on the information that he would be present. And did any of them signal when Alejandro went to the study? A reporter in need of a story perhaps?

  Naturally everyone would be questioned, but these were people very sophisticated at hiding whatever they wished to be hidden.

  “Joaquin, the authorities will have to be called. Leave the bodies where they are. Advise Lady Nicolette’s parents that she is safe and will join them shortly.”

  When Joaquin departed, Alejandro turned abruptly to Nicolette. “Why did you stay when you might have saved yourself?”

  “It would be unheroic.” Her eyebrows knitted together as if his question were ludicrous. “And let those thugs win? In my own house?”

  “You risked your life out of stubbornness?” he demanded, exasperated. He hoped she might profess some feeling for him. Still, he had rarely been more impressed with someone fighting alongside him.

  She lifted her chin. “It’s none of your business, your highness.”

  He stifled a smile, kissing her hand and executing a bow. “You are your father’s daughter, Lady Nicolette.”

  35

  I’ll do whatever I like!

  “I’m going to do just as I please!

  I’ll do whatever I like!

  Don't be a nuisance!

  Let me alone! ...”

  - Musetta, La bohème by Giacomo Puccini

  Nicolette wanted to scream, but that might damage her voice.

  Unfortunately, you must now die.

  And I shall be the one to kill you. Nicolette proceeded to punch the innocent pillow several more times. She then threw the rose silk pillow, hitting the ring canopy eight feet above her bed. The abused collection of feathers caught itself in the sheer chiffon before skating to the mauve and olive damask cover below.

  There was no other option. The pillow must die.

  She glanced at the portrait of her mother in a round antique gold frame hung by a long pink satin ribbon. The painting, flanked by two bronzedoré sconces holding ivory candles, generally offered her some comfort. To the right of the painting was a lovely arrangement of peonies and ivy on her writing desk.

  Nicolette heard a light tap-tap on the door. “Come in,” she managed to utter.

  “Oh dear. Are you alright? Oh, my goodness, You were attacked last evening! It’s the most appalling thing I ever heard. Are you hurt?”

  “I am fine, Grandmamma.” But her hands were shaking. “I don’t think I realized how much danger I was in until this morning.”

  “I was told you handled yourself remarkably well—and even saved Prince Alejandro’s life. I’m astonished. Where did you learn to fight?”

  “I haven’t the slightest idea how to fight! I’m a terrible shot. I am tolerable with a sword but I stabbed a man in the back.” She stifled a sob. “Did they tell you that?”

  “Then how did you manage to kill a man if you are not trained?”

  “I am trained. I didn’t say I wasn’t trained, I just said I don’t know how to fight.”

  “You gave a reasonably good impression, my dear.”

  “Precisely! I just pretended I was on the stage. Somehow I knew what to do.”

  At this, Nicolette burst into tears. “Grandmamma, I killed a man. I murdered a man in cold blood who didn’t have a chance against me.”

  “He had a great many chances! He had every opportunity not to lay in wait and attempt to murder an unarmed woman in cold blood! If he had his way you wouldn’t have had a chance. He was one who lay in ambush for you.” Her grandmother’s anger was evident. “He would have killed you and the Prince of Spain. What choice did you have?”

  “I have had nothing but misery since I met that man.” Nicolette sobbed.

  “Prince Alejandro?”

  “What a dreadful life he must live. I wish I could extricate myself from it.”

  “You don’t mean it, my dear.” She patted her back. “You mustn’t blame yourself. If those murderers had been successful in their cowardly assassination plot, thousands of people would have been affected, not to mention our entire family, all the children you might have had and their descendants.”

  “I’m not going to have any children,” Nicolette said. “I don’t intend to marry.”

  “You would never, ever have wished him harm, but you can’t let other people harm you in their turn. It would have been a particularly gruesome death. Can you imagine your family coming upon the scene.” She shuddered. “You’re not yourself or you would know this. Are you planning to dress today, my sweet?”

  As usual, Lady Elaina was dressed for dramatic effect and looking every inch the “New Woman”. She wore a wide-skirted gown of biscuit color crepe de Paris and a matching blouse coat with bishop sleeves and a front lapel much like a navel admiral's, belted and banded with taffeta strips and bronze buttons. The coat was trimmed with a heavy lace collar and finished with silk fringe at the front ends. She carried a hat with a chiffon covering which completely covered her face when set in place atop her elegant auburn coiffure.

  “If it weren't for those blood-thirsty critics, I would not find myself in this predicament being forced to compromise myself. Parasites feeding off other people's talent.” Nicolette retrieved and punched her pillow again.

  “You're being forced to compromise yourself?” Her voice faltered slightly, in contrast to her composed demeanor. “What precisely do you mean, Nicolette?” Lady Elaina's eyebrows shot up in alarm as she gracefully seated herself at the breakfast sitting table where the tea and toast remained untouched. She poured tea for each of them, motioning to Nicolette to join her.

  “I'm being forced to do that what I do not wish to do.” Nicolette pushed her legs over the side of her bed, her thick woolen socks in some contrast to an elegant gold-trimmed aqua India silk gown. She hurriedly put on a matching robe which bellowed about her hourg
lass figure as she reluctantly moved to join her grandmother.

  “That's not quite the same thing as being compromised, my dear. Are your virtue or your values in question?”

  “Certainly not.” Nicolette murmured under her breath, “Wishful thinking.”

  “Excuse me?” Lady Elaina's eyes shot open.

  Nicolette raised her chin haughtily. “No one shall ever make those decisions for me.”

  Lady Elaina's shoulders relaxed a bit as she stirred the cream into her tea. Bringing the teacup to her lips she inquired liltingly, “What is it then, my love?”

  “I will be singing for Prince Alejandro tomorrow evening.” Nicolette threw her face into her hands, her tea untouched. “A private performance.”

  “Nicolette, are you concerned that his highness will behave with impropriety? If so, I will accompany you no matter what anyone shall say.”

  “No, to be sure, there can be no question of that, Grandmamma.” Nicolette sighed. Alejandro had made it quite clear he was not even remotely attracted to her.

  That kiss. The earth had moved for her, and he was unaffected.

  She didn't know how one person could feel so much and the other nothing.

  What affliction do I suffer from that I am drawn to such a man?

  My world is upside down and out of control. Each day was worse than the day before, and she felt she would explode if things didn't begin to make sense again.

  “Nicolette, are you quite sure? He poses no threat to your virtue?” Lady Elaina demanded.

  “I beg your pardon?...Oh, never fear on that score, Grandmamma. And anyway, there will be servants everywhere within earshot, as well as my own maid in an adjoining room, quite accessible to me.”

  “Do you think there might be another attack?” Lady Elaina gasped.

  “The security is much heightened. And it appears to be an isolated incident. Alejandro said it was the first and only attack on his life. I suppose three people who hate you in an entire country is not too bad a record.”