Death of a Soprano by Nupur Tustin

Author:Nupur Tustin
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Foiled Plots Press
Published: 2023-05-02T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twenty-Two

“Refused to marry His Imperial Highness?” Haydn clutched the gold-trimmed edge of his chair, the news having nearly propelled him out of it. “B-but that is impossible.”

His gaze veered wildly from Leopold, Grand Duke of Tuscany, to His Serene Highness.

The Prince inclined his head a fraction of an inch, a curt acknowledgment of the bitter, unexpected truth. Maria Beatrice D’Este had suddenly, inexplicably declared herself unable to give herself in marriage to Archduke Ferdinand.

The news had caused both the Prince and the Grand Duke of Tuscany no small degree of consternation, and Haydn had found himself summoned into their presence as soon as he set foot inside the palace.

“On what grounds?” Haydn expostulated, the words bursting out of his mouth before he could consider their impropriety.

The Grand Duke of Tuscany paused in his hectic perambulation of the room.

“She has refused to explain herself,” His Grace spoke through clenched teeth. “And Ferdinand won’t confide in me either. A more stubborn, hardheaded lad I’ve yet to see.” Resentment and bitterness sharpened his tongue. “I dearly wish the Emperor hadn’t saddled me with his welfare.”

“It does little good to complain of that now,” the Prince reminded his guest. “What’s done is done. All we can do is remedy the situation.”

He turned his attention to the Kapellmeister.

“What precisely occurred at the rehearsal, Haydn?”

Sunlight poured in through the window bathing His Serene Highness in a warm glow. He leaned forward now, moving out of its reach, and kept his gaze firmly upon his employee.

“He did something to offend the poor woman, I suppose.” The Grand Duke paced frenetically from the writing table at one end of the room to the porcelain stove at the other. “He must have. Why else would she reject him now?”

He spun around to face Haydn as he spoke.

Feeling like a butterfly pinned in place by the twin pairs of eyes piercing his being, Haydn struggled to collect his thoughts.

“Nothing happened, I assure you, Your Grace. The last time we met, she was quite prepared to take His Imperial Highness as a husband.” He felt his brow wrinkling. “I’m at a loss to understand what can have caused her to change her mind.”

“Nothing happened? You’re quite sure of that?” The Grand Duke of Tuscany’s pale blue eyes bore into Haydn’s face.

“Nothing out of the ordinary,” Haydn faltered, casting around in his mind for an explanation. “His Imperial Highness was having trouble getting his horse to execute a piaffe—”

“That’s it, then.” His Grace’s lips curled in contempt. “Ferdinand’s horsemanship has always left much to be desired. What man can be expected to take the reins of government when he can barely control his horse? It’s in vain that we’ve impressed upon him the importance of excelling in that area. One can hardly blame the bride for shying away.”

“But she left the stables agreeable to the marriage,” Haydn felt obliged to protest. It was certainly true—as far as he was aware.

But a twinge of uncertainty flickered through his being. There were unsavory

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