THE GOLDEN ROSE

Chapter 4 - Love, Desire & Intimacy

Clara was quivering with anticipation.  The carriage was almost at the home of Don Miguel, only just down the road from her home. She had not been able to think of anything but that earthshattering kiss on horseback with the handsome Portuguese visitor.  Her mother was staring at her.

"What Mama?" she asked.

"Behave yourself tonight, Clara," she said.

"Of course," she said with a smile.

"No 'of course' young lady, that dress is not the one I asked the seamstress to make."

"I only changed a few things, for comfort."

"It is indecent," she sniffed. "And the colour will attract too much attention."

Clara looked down at the low neckline.  It was exactly as designed, she just didn't have the lace kerchief to hide the curves of her breasts.

"Well, it should help with the search for a suitor."

"It will scare away the more distinguished Dons, they will not be amused."

"By more distinguished, you mean old, and I told you Mama, I will not marry an old man.  I want a young man who I can start a life with."  A young man who kisses me like Sabastaio Mendes.

"Don Miguel's son Francisco is visiting from Mexico City. He has a very important government position, I heard he has come to the notice of the Viceroy."

Clara grimaced.  She was not an admirer of Carlos Francisco de Croix, Marquess of Croix, Viceroy of New Spain.

"You know he is establishing schools so the natives can learn to speak Spanish, he is a humanitarian," her mother said.  "And he has introduced the new French cuisine."

"He also supports the Inquisition, and expelled the Jesuits, and pays himself a ridiculous sum, but that is all fine as long as we get to eat French food I suppose."

"Do not start this talk when we are in public, or you will have us all before the Inquisition!" her mother muttered as they pulled in.

Camila was helped down from the carriage and then walked beside her mother to the front door where they were met by Don Miguel's wife, Dona Sofia.  She kissed her mother's cheek and then Clara's, and led them inside.

"We are so excited for the performance!  We were inspired by your own beautiful concert Clara!"

"Performance?" Clara frowned. She was unaware there was to be any musical entertainment this evening.

"Yes, our guest, Senhor Mendes, is a talented guittarista and his voice is like the angel!"

Clara was in shock. Sabastaio was a musician? How did that suddenly make him even more attractive?  Of course, he could be atrocious.  She had many times attended a soiree where a guest or child had been touted as talented and the reality had been quite the opposite.  She felt nervous, perhaps he would be one of those, and would lose all appeal.  That would be disappointing.

Within moments of entering she was surrounded by her coterie of would-be suitors. Her mother stuck to her side and she got through the annoying and boring bombardment with the help of good wine imported from Madrid. Dona Sofia came to find them as the recital was about to begin, she seated them in the front, knowing Clara as a songstress herself would be keen to have the best view.  She would have to keep a straight face.  If he was as bad as she was afraid he might be, she would have to use all her skill and her fan to hide her amusement and horror.

With everyone seated, Sebastaio Mendes entered and took a seat.  He carried a Guittara Portuguesa, a beautiful twelve string tear-drop shaped wooden instrument, and he wore a handsome black suit with snowy white shirt.  Dona Sofia introduced him and then silence fell.