Prima Donna

by Megan Chance

  I am trying to be good, but it is very hard.

  JULY 24, 1871—Barret says that the whole company can see my misery, and there isn’t a one who hasn’t guessed the reason for it. I told him I was in love with Gideon and I was angry with myself, and Barret took me in his arms and was so understanding and sweet that I started to cry. When I was done he said very seriously that I must forget Gideon, that he belonged to Willa, and she meant to marry him. “She could have stopped Gideon from coming with us,” he told me. “But she didn’t. She knew he could help you, Bina. She let him go for you. Would you repay her this way?”

  I felt so guilty when he said it, and my tears started again, and he said he was only trying to watch out for me, as Papa had instructed him to do, and as any older brother would. “You are my dear schwester, Bina, and you know I love you, but you’re only seventeen—there will be other men for you, and when you find someone else to love you’ll forget Gideon.”

  I do not want another man, but I know he is right. Gideon belongs to Willa, not to me. So I am determined to do as Barret advises. I will find another man to make me forget. I have thought of all the men of the company. Mr. Cone and Mr. Wilson are impossible, of course, as is Renate’s husband—out of loyalty to her, I would not consider him even were he young and handsome. None of the minstrels will suit. Other than Gideon, that leaves only my brother and Paolo.

  I am resolved: Paolo it must be.

  JULY 25, 1871—Tonight I have started my plan to fall in love with Paolo Rinzetti. Before he went onstage I took his hand and smiled at him and wished him luck with such sincere sweetness as I could manage, and I was gratified when he looked quite stunned in return. Then at dinner after the performance, I sat beside him instead of where I usually sit between Barret and Gideon. He is very charming. I think it will not be hard to fall in love with him.

  PHILADELPHIA, JULY 30, 1871—We are returned to Philadelphia, and Mr. Cone was very pleased to show me the new placard, which has MY name on it—now above Follett’s!! It says:

  We are to be here for two weeks, and Mr. Cone believes we will sell out every night.

  I am flirting with Paolo quite outrageously, enough that everyone notices. I think Barret is relieved, but he watches me very closely and I am careful not to alarm him. And although Paolo is very handsome and very nice, still my heart aches for Gideon. I know he feels the same. He’s said nothing of what happened at my birthday, but yesterday after practice he told me I should not waste my time with men who could do nothing for me. I was very noble and told him that I thought I was falling in love with Paolo, and did he mean to stand between us?

  He glared at me and slammed down the cover on the piano with a loud crash—I’ve never seen him so angry. How jealous he was! My heart was pounding so hard in my chest I thought he must hear it. He came up to me and I thought he would take me in his arms and I both wished he would and knew I would have to reject him if he did. But he only asked me if I trusted him to do what was right for my career and I said of course I did and he said, “Then stay away from Rinzetti,” and then, as if he knew he should not, but couldn’t help himself, he traced my collarbone and lingered at the hollow of my throat. His fingers were so warm. I thought I would swoon with pleasure, and despite all my intentions, I leaned into his hand, and I wanted him to kiss me so badly and he met my gaze as if he meant to. But when I moved he drew back and quite stalked away without another word!

  He is so good! And I am so bad, because I am so jealous and angry and guilty. But Willa is my sister, and I love her, and I would not hurt her this way for anything.

  So I am determined to continue with Paolo, and not to mind his rough kisses even though he doesn’t shave as closely as Gideon so my cheeks are red and stinging and my lips are swollen when I leave him.

  AUGUST 5, 1871—Barret reminded me today that Mama and Papa expect me to behave like a respectable girl. He said he’d told Paolo to keep his distance, and I grew very angry and told him I was no longer a child who needed his protection.

  He said Paolo was not some callow boy who would steal only a kiss. He said Papa would hold him responsible if anything should go wrong and he wished I would remember it.

  But he must not care as much as he pretends, because tonight as Paolo and I went out, Barret was with a girl from the chorus. He saw us, and looked as if he might tell me not to go with Paolo alone, but then the girl kissed him, and he wrapped his arms around her and went with her into the dressing room without a word to me.

  AUGUST 6, 1871—Tonight, Paolo unbuttoned my gown and kissed the tops of my breasts above my corset, and I felt a little twinge of … I don’t know what, exactly. Perhaps I am falling in love with Paolo at last!

  BOSTON, AUGUST 20, 1871—I am ruined.

  Barret is threatening to take me home. Paolo is gone, and Mrs. Follett, and Gideon almost so, and the whole company is in chaos and it is all my fault.

  I can hardly bear to write of my folly, but I am now locked into my hotel room and there is nothing to do but think on everything that has gone wrong.

  I find I must write it out to make sense of it, and I will start with our arrival in Boston, which is very hot and humid and unpleasant. Backstage is so hellish that Mrs. Follett swooned opening night, and I had to have Renate loosen my corset laces so I did not do the same, and I was still sweating and faint. It did not help that I was as big a success here as in Philadelphia. They asked for seven!!!! encores of “All Things Love Thee,” which is really too much, and Mr. Cone had given me Mrs. Follett’s Norma, which is difficult under the best circumstance, and in this heat left me nearly prostrate, though I was required to encore it thrice.

  I was exhausted after the performance and I suppose that must explain some of it, because Paolo was waiting for me when I came offstage, and he took me in his arms and he was so strong that I let myself simply lean into him, and I did not protest when he kissed me there before all the others.

  I saw Mr. Cone frown, and Barret shook his head at me, but nobody said anything and we went to dinner. The beer was cool and I drank quite a bit, because I was feeling sick to my stomach and I knew food would not suit. Barret made me eat some bread, and it made me feel worse than ever, so I finally said my head was aching and that I wanted to go back to the hotel.

  By then, of course, Barret was dancing with some woman he’d met there and Gideon must have been off with Follett somewhere, and no one protested at all when Paolo said he would see me back, though the way they talk now, you would think they were all standing about, shouting at me to beware of him. Hah!!!

  The streetlamps were lit, and Paolo said it was romantic, was it not, cara? and I agreed although I was concentrating mostly on trying to keep from vomiting in the carriage, and slapping his hands away at the same time. Truly all I wished to do was sleep. But then we got to the hotel, and my room felt as I imagine a steam bath must feel, and I unfastened the buttons on my bodice and threw myself onto the bed. I heard my door close, and the window open, and I saw Paolo was closing the curtains and taking off his frock coat and his boots, and I believe I said, “What are you doing?” and he turned to me with a smile and took off his shirt so that he was quite naked above his trousers and said, “Why, making love to you, cara.”

  I truly did not feel myself—it is the only way I can explain that I thought he meant only to do what we had done before—no more than kisses and caresses. I did not want to; really I just wanted to sleep, and I told him that I was tired and that he must go.

  But he came to the bed and lay beside me, and then he was kissing me, and his hand was unfastening the rest of the buttons on my gown and I was too tired to resist him much. I think I pushed at him once or twice but I was not very strong about it, and I did not realize what he meant to do, and the truth is that his kisses were very nice, if still a bit rough, and I have always liked it when he touches my breasts.

  Then I felt his hand between my thighs, and I realized that he had quite skillfully arranged things so that my bod
ice was open and my corset unfastened, my chemise pulled down to expose my breasts and rucked up about my waist, and then he was taking off his trousers.

  I was afraid then—but when I pushed at him he grabbed my hands, and came on top of me, pushing his tongue nearly down my throat so I could not breathe or speak. His fingers slid inside me, and I was so horrified and frightened that I froze, and did not fight him at all as he took them away and shoved his cock into me in their stead, except that I cried out because it hurt, and I tried to scramble away from him, but he pinned me down and whispered all sorts of things to me—I do not think he realized I was afraid or that I was crying, or that he hurt me. Then, I stopped protesting at all. There was no point in it; what was done was done, and so I just lay there until he grunted and went still.

  He said a few things then. Things like how beautiful I was, things I think he expected I would want to hear. Then he fell asleep on top of me, and though I suppose I could have moved from underneath him, I was crying and wretched and afraid that if I woke him he would do it again, so I just stared up at the ceiling.

  I don’t know how long it was before Barret knocked on my door, only that it was still late night. My brother called, “Sabine? Sabine? How are you feeling?” and then he opened the door I had forgotten to lock.

  I don’t know exactly what he saw, but I can guess. The moon was bright, the curtains too thin to keep the light out, and Paolo and I were on top of the bed. He was completely naked, and I had not bothered to push my clothing back into place. What had happened between us would have been obvious. I saw Barret stop, and I saw a stillness come over him that I recognized from other times, when he had been required to defend my honor or my mistakes, and I felt the rage that broke over my brother like a snap in the air.

  After that, I don’t remember more than images—Barret yelling, and Paolo starting awake, lurching off the bed, trying to reach his trousers before Barret reached him. The crack of Barret’s fists against Paolo’s jaw, words hurled in German and Italian, the two of them falling on the bed so that I must scramble away, and then Gideon—Gideon—appearing in the doorway, and behind him Follett, and Gideon swearing and then lunging to tear Barret and Paolo apart, and Paolo hit him too, and all the time Follett standing in the hall screaming, “Stop! Stop it! She’s hardly worth all this!” until Mr. Cone and Mr. Wilson came into the room and the gas was lit and Mr. Cone made them stop. I saw how battered they each were: Gideon with blood on his full lips, and Barret’s eye swelling closed and Paolo the worst of all, naked still, but now with a broken nose and two eyes that would be black before morning and blood in his mouth and some bloody, slimy thing clinging to his shoulder that I realized dumbly was a tooth.

  “What’s going on here?” Mr. Cone demanded, and at the same time Gideon said to me, “Christ, Sabine, do you know what you’ve done?” and I could only stand there pulling my gown closed over my breasts, which was very difficult, as my corset was still unfastened and I was afraid I revealed more than I hid.

  Paolo grabbed his trousers from the floor and put them on—very dignified, I thought, given his state—and asked what business it was of anyone’s, and since when did lovers require permission to love? and Barret said, “Since one of them is my seventeen-year-old sister.”

  Mr. Cone asked me if I was hurt and then whether Paolo was here by my invitation?

  I thought how nicely he’d put it. I did not know what to say. He was not, and yet he was, and I knew much depended on the reply I made, and I saw Barret’s fists clench and his fierce protectiveness, and then I saw Gideon’s thoughtful, waiting look, and Mr. Wilson’s frown, and I knew what they would all think if I told them how confusing the truth was.

  And then I saw Paolo’s chin come up and his assuredness return, and in the doorway Mrs. Follett’s smug satisfaction, and there was a part of me that wanted vengeance too, and so I said, “No. He was not.”

  Paolo called me a lying, stupid bitch and Barret told him not to talk of me that way and Mrs. Follett said to me, “Will you really claim that, my dear? I cannot be the only one who saw you kissing Paolo after the performance tonight.”

  I told her I had only been excited at all the encores, and then Gideon said in a very cold voice, “Are you accusing Miss Conrad of something, Olive?” and she snapped back, “You would take her side, wouldn’t you? God knows you’ve been as hot for the little bitch as Rinzetti is.”

  I would have flown at her myself then. I was gratified when Barret said, “I will not have you talking about my sister in that fashion,” and Mr. Cone told Paolo, Gideon, Barret, and Follett to meet him in his room immediately, and told Mr. Wilson to send Renate to me, as I could no doubt use a woman’s comfort.

  They all left, and Renate came and helped me undress and lay on the bed with me while I slept, though she was gone in the morning and I was alone, and very sore, and feeling exceedingly stupid. Which was only made worse when someone knocked on the door and I knew it was Barret and told him to come in, except it wasn’t just Barret, but Gideon too, and I was embarrassed.

  I sat up in bed, clutching the bedcovers about me as Barret shut the door and asked how I was and his tone was so cold and mean, and I retorted angrily, “As well as someone who’s been so grievously abused can be,” and he said, “Leave off, Sabine. What the hell are you playing at?”

  I told him I had no idea what he was talking about and that he needn’t be so pious as he’d been the one who had told me I should find another man to love and I was only following his advice. Barret looked confused and then horrified, and he glanced at Gideon and asked in a strangled voice if I loved Paolo, and I told him no, of course not, and that this was all an accident, and I began to cry and Barret asked if Paolo had taken any precautions?

  I didn’t know what he meant, and said so, and then he swore. “Didn’t you think what would happen if he got you with child? D’you really think we all sacrificed just so you could marry some second-rate garlic eater?”

  I was stunned. I told him marrying Paolo was the very last thing I wanted.

  Barret only gave me this terrible look and said that Papa must be contacted, and we would be lucky not to be called home, and I grabbed my brother by the shoulders and begged him not to tell Papa. I told him I wouldn’t do it again, that I would do whatever he asked. I told Gideon to say something, to help me. He asked Barret for a moment with me and Barret was reluctant but I gave him my best pleading look and he said he would wait in the hall and Gideon had one minute only. When my brother was gone, Gideon sat down on the bed beside me, and took me in his arms, where I wanted so badly to be, and I sobbed into his shoulder and told him I had only been trying to forget him, that it had all gone wrong, and he pulled away and took my chin between his fingers and said, “Rinzetti was a mistake. Next time you’ll listen to me. Now you must use your pretty little head. You’re not a child anymore, Sabine. It’s time to act like an adult and think of what is best to be done.”

  I asked him what he meant and he asked what I wanted more than anything and I said to sing. He said if that was true, I must not let anyone take it from me, and was I brave enough to defy my parents? “Does the world still see you as a child who must obey her mama and papa? Must the Sabine Conrad that the Chicago Tribune loved do so?”

  Oh, what hope he placed in my heart! I clutched at him and he said that if I followed his lead he would see I became what I was meant to be. Then he stroked my cheek and kissed where my tears had fallen, and said I must be patient and trust him, and could I do that?

  Trust him? How could I not trust him? If I’ve learned anything from Paolo, it’s how true my love for Gideon is. But I didn’t say that, because there is still Willa to consider, and I know I must only love him from afar. His guidance must be enough. And so, although my heart was bursting, I said only that I would be his true and faithful student.

  Then he reached into his pocket and pulled out a little bottle. He said it was a Portuguese remedy, and I was to use it as a douche, and that w
ith any luck it would “take care of” any possible child. Then he asked if I knew what a douche was and I said of course I did, and he left, but I had been lying, and I had to ask Renate, who was very good to tell me, and then I was embarrassed that Gideon had been the one to bring it and that he’d known how it must be done.

  But Renate told me something else as well. She told me that Paolo had been released from his contract, and there would be a new tenor that night for me to sing with, because Mrs. Follett had gone as well, and Mr. Cone and Mr. Wilson were discussing whether or not Gideon should be released. If I am singing the prima donna roles then there will be no seconda donna and therefore no need for him, and Follett said that they must choose between her and me, and they did not pick her, and she is gone, and Gideon couldn’t stop her, so they are angry with him.

  When Mr. Cone came later to tell me what Renate already had, I begged for him to keep Gideon, and he told me they did not need him, and then said that we must cancel the show tonight because Follett slammed the door on Mr. Wilson’s hand and he cannot play. So I asked him why Gideon could not take Mr. Wilson’s place at the piano and Mr. Cone said it was a good idea. Gideon was not happy as I expected. He said he would not be their trained monkey, that he was a singer and did they think he had studied all these years to not take his own place upon the stage? But in the end he agreed.

  In spite of what I told Gideon, I am still nervous about what is to come. I am ashamed over what happened with Paolo, but to pay such a price as this … I could not bear to lose everything now that I know what it’s like to sing this way. I cannot go back to what I was. But I have never disobeyed Mama and Papa, and if they send for me to come home, I wonder if I can be as brave as Gideon expects. I intend to be! Oh, I do! But I am afraid. Gideon could not stop Barret from sending the letter home, and now there is nothing to do but wait.