Page 70 of The Last Warrior

“Miss Joselyn…” It was Nate Salsbury speaking again, as he rejoined their party. “I cannot find Irena anywhere, and we are ready for the entertainment to begin. The dignitaries from Denver are waiting. Please forgive me, but I know you, too, have operatic experience. I do not suppose I could impose upon you to…”

“Oh, yes. Of course. I would be honored to sing in Irena’s stead, if this is what you are meaning to ask me. But tell me, did you check her quarters? She might have retired there, perhaps to change clothes.”

“She is not there.”

“Indeed?” Suzette frowned. Where could Irena have gone? She glanced at Black Lion to ask for his favor in seeking out Irena. But he took the moment upon himself.

“While you prepare your song, I will look for her.”

“I would be so appreciative,” Suzette acknowledged, slanting him a grudging yet genuine smile. Then, turning toward Salsbury, she said, “Would you escort me to the musicians?”

“I would be most happy to do so.” Salsbury presented her with his arm. “Shall we go?”

“Yes,” agreed Suzette, and murmuring a quiet, “Would you excuse me?” to Annie and Frank Butler, Suzette went in search of the lead musician.

“Ah, I see,” said Jacques Marcelle, the leader of the trio of musicians, as well as its flautist. Besides himself, there was a clarinet player and a harpist. “You are to sing in your grandmother’s place?”

“Yes,” agreed Suzette. “I fear we cannot locate Irena at present, and since I have little knowledge of what she was to sing tonight, I would ask if you and your company know ‘The Last Rose of Summer’?”

“Oui, mademoiselle. In what key would you like it?”

“B-flat, please.”

Mr. Marcelle nodded, and Suzette took her place on the very small stage.

“Are you ready?” asked Nate Salsbury.

“Yes.” Suzette nodded.

“Good, then I will introduce you.” With hardly a pause, he began his introduction, “Ladies and gentlemen. It is my pleasure to introduce you tonight to Miss Suzette Joselyn, a lyric soprano from the London Opera House. She has kindly agreed to entertain us with a song. Let us welcome her. Miss Joselyn.”

He gestured toward her, and Suzette, amid applause, smiled her thanks at Salsbury.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” she started, “the song I am about to sing is an aria entitled ‘The Last Rose of Summer’ from Friedrich von Flotow’s opera Martha. Originally a poem by Thomas Moore, it was set to music by John Stevenson. In the opera, the main character, Harriet Durham, sings this beautiful Irish melody to her lover.” After she nodded to the other musicians, the first strains of the intro flowed around her.

She sang:

“’Tis the last rose of summer

Left blooming alone;

All her lovely companions

Are faded and gone;

No flower of her kindred,

No rosebud is nigh,

To reflect back her blushes,

Or give sigh for sigh.”

Not a whisper was to be heard from the spellbound audience. Suzette awaited the interlude, then continued…

Meanwhile, Black Lion had taken a place toward the rear of the room, and with arms folded over his chest, he smiled at her and gave her his fullest attention as he listened to her beautiful and lyrical voice:

“I’ll not leave thee, thou lone one!