and Fireworks Productions. No infringement is intended.
Note: These events take place after my story "The Lovers", so you'll
have to read that first.
The last strains of music died away as Montoya, his face blissful,
lifted the bow from the violin and lowered his eyes, modestly
acknowledging the sustained applause of his audience. "Paganini is my
favourite composer," he said, as he bowed smoothly to the assembled
company. Setting the violin down carefully on one of the parlour
chairs, he crossed the room to join a group of his elegantly dressed
guests.
Tessa, sitting with Vera and Gaspar Hidalgo and a few other dons,
watched from the corner of her eye as Montoya, his face alight with
pleasure, accepted the praise she could hear being lavished upon him.
Tessa shifted her gaze to Marta, rolling her eyes in exasperated
boredom. Marta frowned back and shook her head slightly. They had
argued that afternoon about this soiree, with Tessa vowing not to go,
and Marta insisting she must. "You know how I hate these affairs,
Marta," she had complained, "Sitting all evening in stiff
uncomfortable chairs, listening to dull prattle and even worse
entertainments. I'm not going!" she had said finally. But here she
was, in the midst of the territory's most influential people, stuck
for the time being in this stuffy group of dons and their wives.
She glanced around the room, festive with many candles burning
brightly, and the colourful gowns of the women. Touching her own red
brocade dress, she smiled gratefully at Marta, whose skill had created
the gown she was wearing now. Marta returned her look with a fond nod
of her head.
A slight commotion near the door attracted Tessa's attention as Dr.
Helm entered. He acknowledged several people with a brief word as he
came into the room and searched for an empty chair. Once seated, a
glass of wine was quickly served to him and a flock of women gathered
around the doctor. He sent an amused glance at Tessa, then looked away
to Montoya who was moving toward the centre of the room.
The buzz of conversation died down as Montoya began to speak. "I know
I am not the only one in this room who has some talent to entertain
with. Please come forward, and favour us with your special gift."
There was a slight rustle as several people moved uncomfortably,
hoping Montoya would not ask them. Tessa kept her eyes carefully
averted, but she stiffened when she heard him say, "Marta, I
understand you play the violin. Please, take mine and play one of your
Gypsy tunes for us." A gasp and some murmuring accompanied this
request, and all eyes turned to the startled woman, standing
inconspicuously at the far side of the room.
"I regret, Colonel, you must have been misinformed. I do not play the
violin," she said with quiet dignity.
Montoya turned quickly from her cold glare and said, "Senorita
Alvarado, you are newly come from Spain. Please, give us the benefit
of playing for us, something that is popular now in Madrid." Montoya
gestured toward the shiny pianoforte near the far wall of the parlour.
"You seem to have no luck finding talents equal to your own, Colonel
Montoya. I don't play the piano," she said. "Perhaps someone else..."
"A young well-bred Spanish woman who does not play music? I can hardly
believe it. I understand the study of music is basic training in the
social graces a young woman must have."
"After being to many of these soirees, Colonel, I find that for some,
not playing their music is a better social grace," Tessa remarked with
an innocent smile. A choking sound attracted her attention as Dr. Helm
seemed to be having trouble drinking his wine. His eyes were lively
with amusement when they met hers. "Also, I did not say I don't play
music, just not the piano," she added.
"What do you play, Senorita?"
"The guitar," she said brightly. A buzz of whispered comments flowed
around the room, but Tessa ignored it, watching Montoya's face,
waiting for his reaction.
"The guitar is such a common instrument. Why would your father want
you to learn the guitar?" Montoya asked.
"Perhaps he thought it would be easier to move a guitar across the
ocean than a piano," she replied with an impish grin. Dr. Helm
exploded with a hearty guffaw, then subsided quickly with an
embarrassed smile in her direction.
Not to be outdone, Montoya gestured to the centre of the room and
said, "Well, then could we prevail upon you to demonstrate your skill
with this unusual instrument?" He walked over to the small band that
had been hired to play, and took a guitar from one of the musicians.
Handing it to Tessa, he asked, "What will you play for us, something
classical, baroque, perhaps?"
"Flamenco," she replied as she accepted the guitar from his hands.
Montoya's eyebrows shot up, but Tessa added, "You asked for something
that is popular in Madrid. Flamenco is wildly popular these days.
People can't get enough of it." Tessa could hear Dr. Helm coughing in
the background and assumed he had inhaled more of his wine.
"And your Gypsy woman might dance the flamenco for us too," he said
sarcastically, glancing toward Marta. The colour in her cheeks flamed
as she glared at Montoya.
"Marta has many talents, but regrettably, dancing is not one of them,"
Tessa said insouciantly. She strummed the guitar experimentally for a
few bars, then launched into a fiery flamenco tune learned from
Estrellita in the gitano camp. With a flourish, she ended the piece
and there was silence, then a spatter of applause.
"Well," said Montoya, "That was certainly energetic...and loud. Thank
you, Senorita Alvarado."
"I have another, quieter tune, if you wish to hear it." Without
waiting for his answer, Tessa began the strains of Greensleeves,
smiling at Dr. Helm. He arose to stand beside her, humming the tune
quietly. "Do you know the words, Dr. Helm?" she asked looking up into
the warmth of his eyes.
"Only in English," he replied with a smile.
"Sing it in English then," she said and continued to play the tune as
he joined in with "Alas, my love , you have done me wrong, to cast me
off so discourteously..."
Marta noted with alarm the calculating look on Montoya's face as he
watched the two young people singing together. The music seemed to
create a bond, a connection. She could almost feel the warmth flowing
between them from her vantage point across the room. It displeased
Montoya for some reason, and Marta surmised it had something to do
with wanting her hacienda for himself. She shuddered slightly,
wondering if the doctor was placing himself in danger by getting
involved with Tessa.
**********
Dr. Helm assisted the two women into their wagon, and stood
uncertainly for a moment, looking up at Tessa. "Well," he remarked
with a wry smile, "That was a perfectly awful evening. Montoya seemed
to have his knives out for you two for some reason."
Tessa exchanged a look with Marta, and said, laughing, "Did he, Dr.
Helm? I didn't notice."
"I would accompany you to see you safely to your hacienda, but there
is a woman in labour here in the pueblo so I may be called at any
time." The doctor took Tessa's hand and placed a brief kiss on the
back. "As for me, I thoroughly enjoyed your playing, in spite of
Montoya's disapproval. Good night, ladies." He turned quickly and
strode toward his office.
Marta picked up the reins and unlocked the wagon brake, starting the
horses back toward the hacienda. Tessa was quiet, pensive, as she
watched the doctor walk away. After a few minutes, she seemed to shake
herself out of a reverie, and glancing at her companion, said, "I'm
sorry about tonight, Marta. It must have been very embarrassing for
you, the way Montoya treated you."
Marta shrugged. "What can you expect? A man resents it, when the woman he is trying to seduce, puts a knife to his throat." Tessa joined her laughter.
A hint of smile played over Marta's face as she turned to her
companion. "Dr. Helm was certainly attentive to you tonight, Tessa."
The older woman enjoyed the flush that rose into her ward's cheeks and
she prodded further. "In fact, he had eyes for no one else. And what a
very fine voice. Didn't you think so?"
"What is this, now, Marta? Matchmaking?" Tessa laughed
self-consciously. "Maybe you should stick to fortune-telling. You're
better at it. I'm not interested in Dr. Helm."
ŠNovember 25, 2000 - Maril Swan - Parlour Games
