Chapter 46: Raoul's Song

From "Lilith"

The birds have told their bliss.
And all too soon, that ebbing music ends
On purple reach of streams where Twilight bends
The brow to Evening's kiss.

Turn thou as mute to mine!
For on the white Beginnings of thy breast
My brow and lips, idolatrous, would rest
And know the hour divine.

Now end the barren years.
The lucid evening star, a drop of dew
Hidden till sunsets rose had burned anew,
Shines also in thy tears.

Let not thy love delay,
Not silence hold our destinies apart;
For what thy beauty says unto my heart,
My heart can never say.

"Raoul's Song" From "Sails and Mirage and Other Poems" By George Sterling © 1921, San Francisco: A. M. Robertson

His hand plunged into the pocket of his coat and his fingers curled around the small box he had been carrying around for weeks. He withdrew the box, raised it before him and carefully opened it. Meg gasped as her eyes locked on the large, oval-cut blue diamond surrounded by smaller diamonds. The white gold band glittered in the gaslights as he removed the ring from the box that dropped unnoticed from his hand. With only the slightest of trembles, he took up Meg's left hand and slid the ring on her third finger. They stared at one another for a moment frozen in time. Suddenly he straightened and stood, a wild, passionate heat simmering in his eyes, he took Meg in his arms and began to kiss her lips with a thorough and ravenous abandon. As his arms wound around her body and he pulled her tight to him, he felt her stiffen and attempt to push him away, her mouth trying to utter a vain protest about propriety. He refused to allow her to withdraw from his embrace and ran his tongue along the seam of her lips in silent demand for entrance. She opened to him and responded in kind as he ignited her passion, she softened and her body melded willingly into his. The couple enjoyed the moment and lost themselves in the joy of their kisses and caresses.

"So?" The Comte de Chagney inquired with more than a bit of trepidation in his voice.

The younger man walked about his brother's office for a moment before dropping into one of the armchairs in front of the desk.

"So, what?" the younger brother responded with feigned innocence.

Phillipe groaned, "Fine, if you wish to keep me in suspense, go right ahead."

Raoul pursed his lips as if he were considering his brother's words carefully. His eyes softened and his lips relaxed into a wide grin.

"I have absolutely no idea what you mean, Phillipe. You really should be plain when you speak. You know, say what you mean dear brother."

The older man rolled his eyes.

"Very well, did you ask her to marry you? Did you ask Mademoiselle Giry to become your wife? Or, have you become the cat that ate the canary with that grin you are wearing?"

Raoul lifted his leg, draping it over the arm of the chair and began to hum quietly. Phillipe gaped in shock at his brother's uncharacteristic behavior.

"What on earth are you doing? Have you taken leave of your senses? Someone could walk in here and I have no idea what they would think. Raoul, what has gotten into you?"

Raoul smirked in response to his brother's questions. His hanging leg began to bounce in time with the song he hummed. After a few moments, he tilted his head to the side as if in thought. He halted the movement of his leg and considered Phillipe.

"Do you know that I have seriously begun to reconsider my choice of careers, Phillipe? I wonder if I am too old to begin vocal training. What do you think, Phillipe? My voice is passable, is it not? I think I would cut a dashing figure as a leading man on the opera stage. Yes, that way I would have a reason to be close to my wife and I would not be a pest by hanging around the stage all day. That way I could see my wife whenever I wished. No, wait. No. If I were the leading tenor, I would have to kiss the leading soprano and that would never do..."

Phillipe cut his brother's rambling discourse short.

"Raoul, I have had enough of this! You are not making any sense at all. What in blazes is going on in your head? You must certainly wish to have father keel over dead to talk such nonsense."

The older man stared intently at the younger one before the light of comprehension dawned in his eyes.

"Wait! What did you just say?" He choked.

He jumped up from his chair and strode around his desk. Looking down into his little brother's sparkling eyes, Phillipe reached out and cuffed the grinning Raoul on the back of his head.

"You scamp! You wish to become an opera singer so you may be near to your wife. Hmmm ... I take it the girl accepted your proposal. Congratulations, Raoul. Now, if we can just get father and mother to accept this union, well, all should be right as rain."

Raoul's grin burst into a radiant smile.

"No, Phillipe. If we can just find you a woman strong enough to handle you and make you settle down, then all shall be right as rain."

The sound of the excited screech echoed about the empty stage of the opera house, followed by the light footsteps of pointe shoes across the wooden floor. The lithe form of the blonde ballerina ran onto the stage and gracefully leapt into a grand jeté landing on the opposite foot from the one on which she began. The sound of a cane thumping interrupted the joyous dance of the girl.

"Brava, ma chère! However, you must concentrate just a bit more on your arm and hand positions. May I ask what has caused you to leap into dance this evening?"

"Well, perhaps, a basic port de bras exercise is in order and while I perform the positions, you might discover the cause of my happiness." Meg responded with a coy smile.