Read 3 - Cruel Music for Free Online Page B

torches set on iron p ikes. The bedroom contained a canopied bed hung in turquoise damask, a marquetry dressing table, and an open secretary furnished with a liberal supply of quills, ink, and paper. There was even a dressing room with a cozy nook for Benito. The reason behind this extraordinary favor became clear when the abate pointed to a bell over the bed’s carved headboard.
    “This will be your clarion call, Signore. The bell connects to a cord in the cardinal’s suite, right along the corridor at the corner of the southwest wing. His Eminence will ring when he wants you. Warn your man to be ready. The cardinal doesn’t appreciate being serenaded by a man in a dressing gown and nightcap. No matter what hour, you’ll have to be presentable.”
    My jaw dropped. “I’m expected to sing at all hours?”
    Rossobelli lifted his eyes heavenward, as if praying for patience. “You’ve been told nothing of this?”
    “No, nothing.”
    “What else could I expect from Lenci? Too busy chasing skirts to have a care for anyone else’s troubles. Ah well, it’s all in a day’s work…unpleasant details fall through the cracks and Rossobelli comes along with the dustpan.” He gave a tight smile, then lowered his voice as the door opened on Benito and a sturdy footman lugging my trunk and bags. “It’s like this, Signore. His Eminence often finds difficulty falling asleep. By trial and error, he has devised a helpful bedtime ritual. Cardinal Fabiani reads or studies his papers until his eyelids are heavy, then he requires a dim room, a cool cloth across his forehead, and most important of all, a soothing song. You understand?”
    I nodded. A bit bewildered, I’ll admit.
    “Cardinal Fabiani will be so happy that you have arrived. When Cardinal Montorio told us of your coming visit, His Eminence was absolutely astounded…quite overcome…I mean with joy, of course.”
    I tried to hide my dismay, but Rossobelli’s eyes were sharp. “Come, come. You’re displeased. Will it be so difficult? Singing for the man who has had all the responsibilities of Christendom piled upon his shoulders? Lightening his sleepless misery with a little midnight serenade?”
    “No, of course not. It’s just that I’m not accustomed to giving concerts in the middle of the night. And not for an audience of one. My voice is trained to reach the top tiers of a theater.”
    “Oh, you will have plenty of opportunity to show off your voice before a crowd. This evening, in fact.”
    “Sing tonight?” I croaked in distress.
    He plucked a watch from his fob pocket. “Yes, it’s just gone seven. His Eminence is hosting a little reception at nine. You will need to report to the music room at thirty minutes ’til. I’ve left some scores of the cardinal’s favorite arias on the harpsichord.”
    Behind Rossobelli’s back, the footman was unpacking my trunk and handing clothing to Benito to brush and put away. It looked as if my manservant had already formed a bond with the footman whose muscular thighs seemed in danger of splitting the cheap fabric of his breeches. As Rossobelli elaborated on my marching orders, the two servants shared some rueful headshaking and eyerolling, ending with Benito aiming a rude gesture at the oblivious secretary.
    Wishing I could do the same, I said, “But I’ve been traveling for days. My throat is coated with the dust of the road.”
    “How unfortunate,” Rossobelli answered, flicking his hand as if to disperse any dust particles that might still be circling. “It does pain me to ask, but His Eminence would be so happy…so grateful if you would but try. Cardinal Montorio will be among the guests. I’m sure the Cardinal Ambassador is eager to enjoy the voice that his good Venetian zecchini have purchased.” The abate widened his eyes dramatically. “The Montorio brothers are providing suitable compensation, are they not? Woe upon my foolish head if I’ve misjudged your circumstances…I just