Again, the tension rose. How can I meet this challenge? Not in her rival's language, to be sure. Katerina had intended to sing in French also, but
abandoned the plan, making a last-minute substitution. I can't out-flirt Mme St.
Jean, but perhaps I can offer something more poignant.
Remaining at the harpsichord, she played a few simple chords and then
began with “Drink to Me Only with Thine Eyes,” a plaintive love song. Again, it
was a message to Christopher, as though no one else were in the room. The couple could have been in their row house for all the attention she paid to any other member of the audience. She could see from his intense expression that he
understood she was singing to him… and liked it.
Last was each woman's Italian song. Aimée had practiced hard to master the
complicated accompaniment, so she could play it by muscle memory and turned
her full attention towards Christopher as she began to sing “Se Tu m'Ami” by Paolo Antonio Rolli. Everyone in the room but him knew Italian and understood
what this woman was doing. The song sent a blatant message; a girl of easy virtue offering herself to a man, but making it clear he should expect no fidelity.
From her seat on the harpsichord bench, Katerina could see that Christopher
remained oblivious, but Alessandro did not. Neither did most of his guests. What a sad blow to be dealt in such a public venue, Katerina thought, regarding her grandfather in sympathy.
Unaware, focused on undermining her rival's confidence, Aimée continued
to flirt with Christopher through song, naughtily promising everything but her heart. Though she performed with superior skill, the audience applauded tepidly.
They didn't like her manner, Katerina realized. They found it inappropriate.
The discovery mattered less to her than how her husband would react.
He didn't. His lovely silver eyes remained fixed on her, and it warmed her to
her core.
At last, it was time for Katerina's final song. She walked slowly from the harpsichord to the pianoforte. Once again, she chose to give her husband her unveiled heart: “Per la Gloria d'Adorarvi” by Bononcini from the opera
Griselda.
She pleaded with him in song to ignore Aimée and give his attention to his
wife, to her heart, which she was offering without reservation. Her emotion, her
adoration vibrated palpably in the room. Unfortunately, he had no idea… or maybe it is fortunate. I would be embarrassed if he understood.
After a delicately shimmering high note, the song ended, and the room
erupted with applause, startling her again. Red-faced and trembling, she slunk back to her seat beside Christopher. He took her hand and held it indiscreetly.
Alessandro rose from his seat, his face red but his voice falsely cheerful.
“Thank you, ladies, for those lovely performances. We will give our verdict after
dinner. And now, friends, shall we adjourn to the dining room?”
There was a general exodus, and it wasn't until later that the guests noticed
their host had not joined them.
As Aimée moved towards the door, Alessandro caught her arm in a hard grip, pulling her back. “What exactly was that?” he asked her, his expression
thunderous.
“Music, chérie,” she answered in her usual flirtatious lightness.
He shook her. “No. You know what I mean. Why were you throwing yourself
at my granddaughter's husband?”
“I was only playing. I don't care in the slightest about Mr. Bennett.” She twined her arms around Alessandro's neck, trying to distract him from his anger.
“Then why the hell were you flirting with him?” His grip on her arm
tightened to bruising force, and he yanked her away from him. “You
