Masquerade (12 page)

‘You’re the girl all of Venice is talking about,’ he said to Orelia.

‘You must have me mistaken for someone else,’ said Orelia, feeling her cheeks redden.

Signor Memo rubbed his chin. ‘No, it’s certainly you. It would be my honour to make your gowns. Have a look around and pick out the fabrics you like. Then my daughter will take your measurements and details.’

Orelia waited for him and the girl to return to the back of the shop, before she turned to Anna. ‘I’m hoping you can help me. I don’t know where to begin.’

‘Of course,’ said Anna. ‘We should begin with the silks.’

Anna led her to a table covered in luminous rolls of silk. ‘How about this plum colour? It will bring out the colour of your hair.’

‘Anna, when you were arranging my hair for the opera, you began to tell me about some letters you had found in my room from long ago. Do you still have them?’

‘Mi dispiace,’ said Anna, her voice breaking. ‘I was mistaken. They were just pamphlets. I can’t read, you see. I’ll wait for you in front of the shop.’ Before Orelia could protest, Anna hurried off.

Orelia wandered through the shop alone. There were damasks and taffetas, velvets and lace, brocades and silks, each material more luxurious than the last, but Orelia hardly paid any attention to them. She kept thinking about Anna’s reaction. What was she hiding? And why was she so afraid to reveal it?

As she passed a table of Oriental fabrics, Orelia had the unsettling feeling she was being followed. At first, she thought it must be Signor Memo’s daughter, but each time she turned to look behind her there was no one there. When she turned back around for the third time, the old woman was standing in front of her.

Orelia gasped. ‘Mi dispiace, you startled me,’ she said after she had recovered from her surprise.

The old woman did not reply. Her blue-eyed gaze was intense and penetrating.

‘Can you recommend something in a plum colour?’ asked Orelia, feigning levity.

The woman shook her head. ‘Green is your colour.’ She reached her hand out and touched Orelia’s cheek. ‘Green is the colour of peace and generosity. I’m always telling my husband that you’re such a good girl. More Signorinas should be like you.’

It was a rare occasion when Claudia was excused from any social events for the evening during Carnevale. And this opportunity had been presented like a splendid feast on a platter, just when she needed it most. That night, her mother was hosting a private dinner party with Signor and Signora Venier – for some hidden agenda, no doubt – and she did not want her children in attendance. A golden opportunity, or at least that’s what Claudia had thought that morning.

‘Change of plans,’ said her mother as she waltzed into the sitting room that afternoon. Both Claudia and Marco were lazing about in the afternoon sun that filtered through the windows.

‘Signor Contarini is hosting a banquet tonight in honour of his goddaughter,’ their mother continued, placing a trace of venom into the word ‘goddaughter’.

Claudia could see where this was going. Panic filled her. ‘But you already declined the invitation when it came last week. Are you not always saying that you should decline as many invitations as you accept?’

‘Well, I’ve now heard a rumour that Bastian Donato will be there. So, I will host my dinner party, while you both attend the affair at Ca’ Contarini. Understood?’

‘Forget it,’ said Marco, opening his eyes lazily. ‘I have my own plans for this evening.’

‘Cancel them. If Bastian is going to be there, I want Claudia to be there and that means you have to accompany her.’

‘I spoke to Bastian yesterday. He hasn’t received an invitation to the banquet. Everyone knows Signor Contarini has no tolerance for Bastian. He won’t let him through the door.’

‘I heard differently, so you’re going and that’s that,’ said their mother.

Marco groaned. ‘Can’t you send someone else with Claudia?’

‘Unless you want your allowance cut off, you will go.’

Marco stood up, slammed his book down on the table and stormed out of the sitting room.

Throughout this whole exchange, Claudia said nothing. She stared straight ahead in a state of paralysis. Her mother walked over to her and not-so-gently patted her shoulder. ‘At least I have one child who knows what’s best for them.’ Then she left the sitting room leaving the heavy smell of rosewood behind.

As soon as Claudia was alone, she burst into tears. Her plans to makes things right with Filippo were now ruined. After the night at La Fenice, it had taken days for things to be back to normal between them. Part of the reason he had let go of his jealously was because Claudia had promised a night where they could go out together like a normal couple, masked, of course. Tonight was that night, or so she had told him earlier that morning when she snuck downstairs during breakfast on the pretence of a stomach-ache. She had promised they would go to the Commedia dell’Arte together.

Claudia wiped her wet face with the white lace billowing out the bottom of her sleeve. There was no way of avoiding Signor Contarini’s banquet. Her mother would have spies there and she would find out if Claudia did not attend. How would she tell Filippo? Would he forgive her this time? Her body shook as the tears persisted.

‘Is everything all right, Signorina Claudia?’

Claudia slowly pulled her hands away from her face. Kneeling in front of her was her lady’s maid, Francesca. Her big hazel eyes stared at Claudia in concern.

Even though Francesca was sixteen and Claudia was eighteen, people often joked that the two must be twins separated at birth. They were both the same height and had the same black hair, though Francesca’s was shorter.

Claudia’s tears stopped flowing and she straightened her back. ‘Francesca, how would you like to go to a banquet at Ca’ Contarini tonight?’

‘Are you feverish?’ asked Francesca.

Maybe she was. She leaned in close to the maid’s ear and whispered, ‘You could go in my place; pretend you are me. You would be doing me a tremendous favour.’

Francesca bit her lip. ‘If I get caught by your mother . . .’ Her eyes flicked down to her wrist, which had been broken a year ago by Signora D’Este when Francesca had dropped an expensive vase. Clearly, the bone had healed, but Francesca’s fear of Signora D’Este had not.

‘You won’t get caught. You’ll be wearing one of my gowns and one of my masks. I’ll leave the palazzo with Marco so mother will see me leaving and we’ll swap places on the calle.’

‘What about Marco? He won’t tell?’

‘Leave Marco to me,’ said Claudia, waving her hand in the air dismissively. ‘Please, will you do me this kindness?’

Francesca nodded hesitantly.

Claudia took Francesca’s pale hands in hers and squeezed them. ‘Grazie. You mustn’t tell anyone; it will be our secret.’ She looked up at the sun-drenched windows and smiled. Her plans for tonight would not change. She was her mother’s daughter, after all.

Anyone walking into the portego of Ca’ D’Este at seven o’clock that evening would have seen the perfect example of a happy family. But smiles were the perfect masks, as Claudia knew all too well.

‘I’m glad you’ve embraced the change of plans,’ said their mother. ‘You both look enviable. One day this family will rule Venice.’

‘You’re always right, mother,’ said Marco with a hint of sarcasm.

It was Claudia’s turn to say something. ‘I’m sure we’ll have an enjoyable night.’

Their mother laid a kiss on each of their cheeks. ‘More importantly, have a profitable night.’

They turned and walked down the staircase to the ground floor. ‘It would be nice to walk to Ca’ Contarini, don’t you think? We can always hire a gondola on return at the Rialto if we tire,’ said Claudia.

‘I was going to suggest that myself,’ replied Marco.

Claudia blinked a few times in surprise. It wasn’t like Marco to agree with her. Maybe it would be easier to explain Francesca to him than she had imagined.

Out on the calle, Claudia tried to find the words she had been practising all afternoon. I’m in love with Salvador Oro. I must see him tonight. I’m sending Francesca to the banquet in my place. I know you won’t tell mother because if you do I will tell her how much money you’ve lost gambling.

That afternoon Claudia had been convinced that Marco would believe these lies, but as they approached the place where Claudia had instructed Francesca to wait, doubts began to fill her mind.

Why would Marco believe she was in love with Salvador? She’d only ever said how much she disliked him. What if Marco called her bluff about his gambling? She’d have no cards in her hand. What if her brother found out about Filippo? Her life might as well be over.

It will fine, Claudia told herself. It will be fine.

A moment later, she spotted a man walking towards them. Marco waved. Just like her brother, the stranger was wearing a white bauta mask, black tricorne hat and cloak.

When he reached them, he lifted his mask and smiled. ‘Ciao, Claudia,’ said Bastian. ‘Nice to see you.’

Before Claudia could reply, Marco spoke. ‘Bastian will be accompanying you tonight to the banquet.’

‘You’re not going?’ asked Claudia, unable to keep the surprise from her voice.

‘That’s right. Like I said this afternoon, I have plans and it just so happens that Bastian desperately wants to be at Signor Contarini’s celebration tonight. If you breathe a word of this to mother, I’ll make sure you pay.’

‘Be nice, Marco,’ said Bastian.

All Claudia’s doubts floated away. ‘I won’t tell, if you won’t.’

Marco looked puzzled.

‘Francesca, you can come out now,’ called Claudia.

A moment later, Francesca stepped into the light of Marco’s lantern. Claudia walked over to her and laced her arm though her maid’s. The two women were almost identical in gowns of midnight blue and their black hair pinned back. Claudia took off her mask and swapped it with Francesca’s.

Marco looked from one to the other and began to clap. ‘Well done, little sister. I didn’t know you had it in you.’

Claudia waited for a masked couple to pass by before speaking. ‘We should agree on a time we all have to be back. Midnight?’

Marco scoffed. ‘That’s too early. Mother will know something is up. Two o’clock.’

‘Agreed,’ said Claudia, while Bastian and Francesca nodded.

Claudia and Marco watched their impersonators walk down the calle until they disappeared into the darkness.

‘Have a profitable night,’ said Marco with a wink, before he too disappeared down the calle.

Hurriedly, Claudia turned and walked back towards the land entrance of Ca’ D’Este. She opened the heavy door and continued through the andron to the water entrance. Filippo was standing at the stern of her family’s gondola, wiping the shiny black surface with a cloth.

He looked up as Claudia approached. ‘I thought you weren’t coming.’

Claudia pressed her hands to her heart. ‘Mi dispiace,’ she said. ‘But I’m here now.’

Filippo frowned. ‘No, I mean. I thought I saw you leaving through the land entrance half an hour ago.’

‘That wasn’t me,’ said Claudia. ‘Though it’s good to know even you were fooled. That was Francesca. She is pretending to be me tonight at Signor Contarini’s banquet.’

Filippo leapt off the gondola onto the water steps and swept Claudia into his arms. ‘My clever, cunning woman.’

‘I’m not cunning,’ said Claudia, pulling away. That’s my mother you’re talking about. I did what I had to do.’

‘I didn’t mean to upset you. I meant it as a compliment.’

‘Mi dispiace,’ said Claudia, the defensive tone leaving her voice. ‘I’m so afraid I’ll turn into my mother one day.’

Filippo cupped her face in his hands. ‘That will never happen. You are the kindest, most gentle person I know. That will never change.’

Claudia smiled and let her face relax into his hands. ‘I thought we could go to Teatro San Luca,’ she said. ‘They’re showing Goldoni’s new play tonight. We could sit in the stalls with the populani and roar with laughter.’

‘Actually, I have something special planned for you, a way to apologise for being a jealous fool.’

‘What do you have in mind?’

‘Dinner at my casa. My mother has been cooking all day. I want you to meet my family.’

Claudia placed a long kiss on Filippo’s lips. ‘There’s nowhere else I’d rather go.’