The Soprano Ch. 08

He paced anxiously while the musicians tuned up. Deep breaths were helping him to calm down, but not much. He stepped up on the podium and opened his score. After a few beats, the orchestra came in just as they were supposed to, and his nerves began to settle at last. They still weren't quite perfect, but it was the best he could have expected. A few more rehearsals and they would be ready.

The notes slipped away before him and he closed his eyes, leaning his head back as he swished his baton. For the first time he felt a little stirring in his heart as the orchestra played on, and he dearly hoped it wasn't showing on his face. That just wouldn't do. At last, of course, it had to end and he opened his eyes again, nodding slowly.

"That will do, thank you. It is coming along very nicely. Let us take a short break, please, and we will meet again at seven."

He stepped off his podium and strode briskly toward the hallway, stopping in his tracks abruptly when he saw the figure leaning up against the wall, looking at him with an inscrutable expression. Sebastien frowned, feeling very anxious again.

"You are early," he said, inclining his head and heading down the hallway away from prying ears.

"I suppose I am," answered René softly, touching his friend's arm to stop him. The expression on his face made Sebastien want to squirm, a very unusual feeling for him. "Mon ami, this was the purpose behind your secret rehearsals?" Sebastien hesitated for a moment before heading off down the hallway again, eager to escape René's knowing look.

"So what if it is?" he asked stiffly. "Perhaps you would not understand, because you do not know...have not seen..."

"Sebastien, please, I know you better than you think. Believe me, I have expected...something like this, but still it is..."

"You think it will not be received well?" Sebastien asked, suddenly worried. René's expression softened, and as they crossed the threshold of Sebastien's office he drew his friend into a gentle embrace.

"It will be perfect."

-----

When the house lights dimmed, Claire was in an odd mood. It wouldn't be the first concert she'd had no part in -- there were only so many orchestral pieces featuring soprano, after all -- but usually she sang in the concert that begun or ended a season. She had been a little put out, but really it would be worth it considering the pieces Sebastien had chosen. They were so beautiful and interesting, and she was really lucky to have a good seat.

She had begged Sebastien to let her sit just offstage, where she couldn't be seen by the audience but would have a good view of him. Actually in retrospect he had been surprisingly easy to convince, but then he had known she would want to come to the concert. He probably just assumed she would want to sit in the audience, where she usually did for performances. But she missed him, missed watching him.

The show was every bit as wonderful as she'd expected, if a bit on the short side. Sebastien strode off stage after the Stravinsky, appearing surprised to see Claire standing there waiting for him. They stood still for a moment, looking at each other, and then Sebastien whisked Claire behind one of the hanging curtains, wrapping them up in the dark cloth. He pressed a firm kiss to the lips of a very surprised Claire, his hands holding her firmly against him.

"I love you," he said, then disappeared with a flick of his wrist that sent the curtain away from him to float back around Claire. She lifted a hand to her forehead, suddenly feeling a bit dizzy. Peering out from the curtain, she saw that she was alone and that Sebastien had gone back on stage for what she presumed would be the second round of applause. But as she went back to her seat, she saw that her chair had been moved. Glancing back to the stage, she saw Sebastien looking back toward her.

He tipped his head subtly to the side and she saw the chair waiting for her on the stage itself, close to where she usually sat. He held up a finger and then turned back to the audience as he mounted his conducting platform again.

"Ladies and gentlemen, I would like to thank you all for attending our final concert of the season. If you would all please stay in your seats for just a short time longer, we are premiering a special piece for just this one night only. I hope you enjoy it."

Sebastien stepped off the platform and headed toward the grand piano, which had been installed at the far end of the stage. As the lighting dimmed at the front of the stage and brightened over the piano, Claire saw her opportunity and slipped on stage to take her seat. Whatever he was about to do, it would certainly sound better from up here rather than off stage. What was he up to, anyway?

Truthfully he had begun to grow rather nervous again. As he seated himself at the piano, he tried to keep his mind on what he was about to do, tried not to think about long ago nights, faraway places. Sebastien glanced at the other end of the stage where Claire sat, looking curiously over at him. He wanted this so much to be perfect, for her, and at last he thought it might be.

He began to play. Just like the original composition, the first few bars of this Moonlight Sonata were piano only. Then his real work would become apparent. He had finally completed an orchestral arrangement of this favorite work of his early in the year. This was what they had been secretly rehearsing for weeks, and it was finally ready for its debut. He hoped so much that she would love it, but more than that, that she would understand. It was all for her.

The orchestra played sublimely. Every note was pitch-perfect, every silence thrummingly beautiful. When the final notes died away, he chanced a glance at Claire. She was looking at him very intensely, tears shimmering in her eyes. She understood. The audience seemed to take in a collective breath and then the applause began. They liked it, too, and he was proud, of course. But she...

Claire was very quiet as they left the symphony hall. Sebastien was taking her for a late supper at the restaurant of a nice nearby hotel. Normally they would have separated after the performance and met up outside the building, but tonight it seemed that neither of them cared any longer. Of course, it probably would have risen no suspicion for two colleagues to go to dinner together, but they had always felt safe was better than sorry. Not tonight.

Tonight Claire had flung herself into Sebastien's arms for a moment as soon as they made it offstage together, and he held her for just a few seconds longer than was probably appropriate for acquaintances. But then he had given her his hand and they had gone out the back entrance together, hoping to avoid conversation with anyone else.

Of course, they hadn't spoken to each other since the performance was over, either. It wasn't an uncomfortable silence, just full of the knowledge that something had certainly changed between them. Neither of them were quite sure what.

They were seated in a quiet corner of the restaurant, under the flickering lights of candles in wall sconces throwing delicate shadows on the cream-colored walls. Claire ran her fingers in little circles on the ivory tablecloth, trying to focus on the menu instead of Sebastien, but it was difficult. He looked so handsome, and she knew he was waiting on her to say something. Anything. The trouble was, she had just been thrown for such a loop that she didn't know what to say yet.

The arrival of the waitress saved her from having to come up with anything for the moment. She was a bright-eyed, bubbly young woman -- probably a bit too bubbly for the somewhat reserved atmosphere for the restaurant, but nice enough. She smiled down at Claire to take her order, but really turned up the brightness when she looked at Sebastien. Once they finished ordering, she disappeared, and Claire fixed Sebastien with a thoughtful look.

"Are women always like that around you?"

"Always like what?"

"You know...perky and flirtatious."

"I have never particularly thought about it. I suppose women in this country are, yes, though you certainly weren't." Claire waved that away.

"It's your accent," she said seriously. "Well, that and the fact that you have money, I suppose. But it wouldn't matter if you didn't. Girls are always saying, you know, French men might not be much to look at, not compared to Italians. Italian men are gorgeous, but it's the French guy you want to take to bed."

"Girls say that, do they?"

"Believe me, they do."

"Hmm...is that what you think?"

"With you and René as my examples of French men? Well...I've never been to bed with an Italian, so I'll have to get back to you on that one." She finally gave him a little smile, which he returned. Then she turned pensive again. "They all think I'm lucky, you know. They think they want to be me."

"Who?"

"Women who see us together."

"Why shouldn't they want to be you? Lovely voice, beautiful face..."

"No, they want you. Well, they think they want you. If they knew what I let you do to me on a regular basis, they'd probably be less interested."

"Oh?"

"Yeah, most girls don't go for the sort of thing we do. They like soft, romantic stuff. They see a French guy, they think they've hit the damn jackpot." She tried to laugh, but her voice hitched a little as she did so. Sebastien frowned, picking up her hand.

"I am afraid I have been lacking in the romance department," he murmured, bringing her wrist to his mouth and brushing his lips against it. "Sometimes I admit I get carried away and forget to simply take you into my arms and..."

"You don't have to say it," Claire protested with a blush.

"I apologize. I did not mean to embarrass you."

"It's fine. You're right, though, I guess. I'm really a romantic at heart myself." She looked down, but suddenly knew what she wanted to say. "I want you to know that I loved the surprise performance tonight. It...it was your arrangement, wasn't it?"

"How could you tell?" Sebastien asked in surprise.

"The way you looked at me, so intently, like you were about to show me the most secret part of yourself. And the music, it was so passionate and yet so precise. Every note exactly in place, but because you wanted it to be there. It was one of the most lovely things I've ever heard."

"Thank you."

"No, no. Thank you. I'll never forget it, as long as I live."

Looking across the table at her, Sebastien suddenly thought about the position he'd applied for, the call he'd made earlier in the day. He knew he'd made the right decision.

-----

They were hand-in-hand, walking back toward Sebastien's car, when he turned to her suddenly.

"I wonder, mon abeille, if you would come back into the symphony hall with me for a few moments. There is something I would like to do."

"Want to look in on the party, do you?" Claire teased.

"Heaven forbid," he replied dryly. "I have had quite enough of symphony parties for one season, I think."

"Then what is it you want to do?" Sebastien didn't answer. As they slipped in through the side door, Claire let go of his hand out of habit and was surprised to feel him take it back. She glanced up at him. In the dark of the hallway, she thought he might have been smiling, but she couldn't be sure. It was quiet; only an echo of the party noise reached them as they walked.

"I am remembering just now the very first time I saw you," Sebastien mused softly. "You were sitting there awaiting your audition, so nervous you could hardly read."

"I can't believe you remember that. I was nervous."

"You were. And so beautiful." He leaned down to kiss her cheek.

"Maestro...you didn't bring me down here just to go down memory lane, did you?"

"Perhaps." But he slid his arm around her shoulders and said nothing more as he guided her down the hallway. Around a corner and through the curtains they went, to the stage again. All of the chairs and music stands had been put away, though the piano was still in its spot to one side, and the lights were very low. Claire looked up at Sebastien and a tremor ran through her as she saw the look on his face -- dark, serious. Surely he wasn't having any impure ideas. Not here, not now with their colleagues socializing so nearby.

But it seemed he indeed had no such ideas. Giving her shoulders a final squeeze, he sat down at the piano bench. He tapped out a quick little tune before segueing slowly into the beginning of one of their four-hand waltzes. Hearing her cue, Claire sat beside him, touching her fingers gently to the keys in a light echo to Sebastien's notes. As they neared the end of the song, he slowed a bit and finished on a rather wistful note. Claire glanced up at him, but he wouldn't meet her eyes now. When she laid her hand on his arm, he stood abruptly.

"I think it is time we talked," he said, and Claire's heart fell. He didn't just want to talk...he wanted to talk.

"Tonight?" she protested.

"Yes, tonight," he answered, a bit impatiently. "It is past time we should have had this conversation, I think." Claire stood and walked over to him uncertainly. Sebastien turned suddenly, startling her. "You know how much I love you, mon abeille, do you not?"

"Of course I do. Would you please just tell me what's going on?"

"The symphony called." The words hung in the air. Of course that was it. What else would have him so agitated?

"Oh," she said, very softly. There was nothing more to say. She looked down at her feet, understanding now why he hadn't wanted to look at her.

"Or perhaps it would be more accurate to say that I called them."

"I see," she said, although she didn't. Was he so eager?

"Yes, I was anxious to speak with them, so I thought it would be best not to wait until they called." Claire's heart hurt suddenly. Had he accepted already? Was he here to pack up his things? It was so sudden, but she couldn't imagine what else he would be doing here. Her mind was racing and she was sure she would start to cry before he had even finished speaking. She was so upset that she almost didn't hear what he said next.

"I..." He stopped to take a breath. "I told then I was withdrawing my name from their consideration, that I was no longer interested in the position. That I am content here, and I am thinking of getting married...if my love will have me."

Claire blinked up at him with tear-filled eyes, not quite comprehending his words.

"I...what?" she finally asked.

"Mon abeille...I am trying to ask if you will marry me," he answered with a touch of amusement. "Ah, I nearly forgot. It would never do to ask empty-handed," he added, reaching into his jacket pocket and withdrawing something in his cupped hand. Unfurling his fingers, he revealed a ring sitting alone in his palm. It was beautiful, and looked to be fairly old. In a delicate, filigreed rose-gold band sat a ruby that glowed blood-red in the dim lights, flanked by seed pearls.

"It was my grandmother's," he said quietly. Claire was still speechless. "Will you give me an answer?" he prompted.

"I forgot the question," she stammered, looking up at him with wide eyes.

"Claire," he said a little impatiently, "you can be so exasperating sometimes. Now tell me, will you be my wife?"

For a long moment she looked up at him, uncertain. It had truly taken her by surprise. She hadn't been sure he would ask her at all -- regardless of his sisters' meddling words -- and certainly not so soon. Her mind was full of questions: Wasn't it too soon? Where would they live? Where would they marry? What would her parents say? It felt like too much, too soon, too fast.

She looked up at him, his face a mixture of amusement, irritation, and tenderness, and sighed inwardly. Opening her mouth at last, she said the only thing she could say: "Yes." And it was done. One little word to change her whole life.

"Yes?" Sebastien echoed, looking cautious now as if he had expected her to run, or ask for more time, or argue with him the way she had with herself. Suddenly Claire felt as if her heard might burst; she loved him that much.

"Yes," she repeated, this time with a smile that he returned. Then he pulled her into his arms, kissing a line from her temple down her cheek slowly as he held her. When he reached her lips at last, a soft sighing sound came from behind them.

Dreading what she was about to see, Claire turned back slowly to see the greater part of the orchestra clustered below the stage, watching.

"Um...I thought you were all at the party," she said lamely.

"We were," said Holly from the front of the stage, "but it's late, didn't you know? The party was breaking up and we heard talking, so we came to investigate."

"How long have you all been there?" asked Sebastien, baffled that neither of them had noticed them all come in.

"Only a couple of minutes." Claire looked around, terribly embarrassed.

"I guess the secret's out."

"It wasn't that much of a secret. After we saw you together after rehearsal a few weeks ago, some of us suspected there was something going on between you two."

"Somehow that doesn't make me feel any better."

-----

It was well after one in the morning by the time Claire and Sebastien returned to his apartment. The musicians had insisted on opening a few bottles of champagne in a sort of impromptu engagement party, but it wasn't long before their significant looks became noticeable and they were sent off home with well wishes. At last truly alone in the silence of deepest night, Sebastien picked Claire up and twirled her around his living room.

He carried her up to his bedroom and they made love in the light of the full moon splashing down onto his bed. When it was over, Claire curled up beside him and pressed soft kisses into his neck until he could no longer keep his eyes open. She ran her hands through the curls of hair on his chest and let herself wonder for a moment if she really had made the right decision.

She thought of how much her parents loved him, how excited his sisters would be when they heard the news. She thought of René...and she wondered. But there, that was a problem for another day. Tonight she was exactly where she belonged. She had everything she wanted, and perhaps it was time to stop questioning it and just live her life. But then...that's just who she was, wasn't it?

"Mon abeille, kindly settle down for the night," came the rumbling, tired voice beside her. "You are thinking too loudly for me to sleep."

"Hmph," she pouted.

"Anything you want to discuss, we can do it in the morning. For now, let us just have this night." Sebastien rolled over onto his side and wrapped his arms around her. His lips found hers in the dark and she let herself melt into him. All right, yes. In the morning.