Masquerade (9 page)

Orelia was last to step inside. The box was larger and more spacious than she had expected. There was a powder-blue settee with gilt legs along one wall and several matching armchairs positioned near the balcony. On a side table sat two empty glasses next to a decanter of dark liquid, which Orelia hoped wasn’t more wine. Bastian had not yet arrived, sparking some hope that he might not arrive at all.

She joined Veronica at the wide balcony that looked out over the horseshoe-shaped theatre. Their box directly faced the stage at a perfect height. Veronica was right, of all the hundreds of boxes stacked upon each other, this one must afford the best view.

The theatre was more impressive than anything she’d seen in Venice so far. Everything was gilded, from the fronts of the boxes to the roof, which was supported by golden figures of mermaids. Even the shadows had an ethereal quality. The boxes were filling quickly and there was not a single unclaimed wooden seat on the ground floor. Perhaps, the evening might be enjoyable after all.

Taking the spyglass that Veronica offered, Orelia looked towards the stage. A blue curtain hung from floor to ceiling, rippling like water

‘No, no,’ said Angelique, shifting the direction of Orelia’s spyglass. ‘You turn the spyglass on the audience. That is where the real drama unfolds. Look over there.’

Orelia did as instructed and what she saw almost made her drop her spyglass. ‘Are they allowed to do that here?’ she whispered.

‘In private boxes, anything goes,’ answered Angelique. ‘And the opera hasn’t even begun yet.’

The spyglass was pulled away from Orelia. At first, she thought Angelique must have caught sight of something particularly intriguing, but then she saw it was Veronica. ‘We are here to watch the opera,’ she said in a reprimanding voice, ‘and to make it clear to Bastian that Orelia has no interest in him.’ She looked sternly at Angelique. ‘Is that understood?’

‘I believe that is for Orelia to decide, not you,’ replied a man’s voice.

Orelia looked to the door and saw Bastian coming through. He was dressed in a burnt orange dress-coat with gold buttons worn open to reveal a heavily embroidered, white waistcoat. A white mask with a long curved nose rested on his forehead, revealing his face. His eyes moved from one lady to another. If he was shocked to see them all, his face did not reveal it. ‘If I had known to expect more company, I would have had more glasses set out.’

‘It’s perfectly all right,’ said Angelique, advancing towards him. ‘Everything we need is right here.’

But Bastian’s eyes weren’t on Angelique.

Orelia shifted uncomfortably. ‘It’s nice to see you’ve decided to come fully clothed, Mr Donato,’ she said, still feeling the effects of the wine. Maybe bravery wasn’t something you were born with, but something you drank? ‘When does the Opera begin?’ she asked.

‘It begins when I say it begins.’

Bastian strode over to the balcony and waved in the direction of the stage.

Orelia was about to laugh when the orchestra began to play. All she could do was shake her head in amazement.

‘Would anyone like some wine?’ asked Bastian.

‘I have the most beautiful daughter in all of Serenissima.’

Claudia looked up to see her mother sweep into her bedroom wearing a silver damask gown. Her dark hair was twisted into neatly arranged rows in the French tête de mouton style. It gave her mother a softer look that was as concealing as a mask.

Claudia turned in her chair and looked at her own reflection in the mirror of the dresser. Her oval-shaped face with high cheekbones framed with black hair stared back at her. She looked so much like her mother that Claudia could not bear to look at herself sometimes. She looked away from mirror.

‘I have a gift for you,’ said her mother, walking across the room and sitting down on the bed. She patted the spot beside her giving Claudia no choice but to stand up and join her.

‘What is it?’ asked Claudia without enthusiasm.

Her mother opened her fist to reveal a small brass key.

Claudia frowned. ‘I don’t understand.’

‘It is a key to the Doge’s opera box where Bastian Donato will be tonight should you feel the need to surprise him later,’ said her mother with a triumphant smile.

Claudia’s frown deepened. ‘How did you get it?’

Her mother waved a hand. ‘The owner of La Fenice owed me a favour.’

Claudia stood up and pressed her fingers against her temples. ‘So Bastian doesn’t know?’

‘That’s why it will be a surprise.’

Claudia was pacing now. ‘What makes you think he’ll be alone? When is Bastian ever without female company?’ She stopped and spun around to face her mother.

‘All the more reason for you to make yourself known.’

‘It is a pointless pursuit. I don’t want to marry Bastian and even if I did, it would never be possible. He can only marry someone from within the aristocracy. We are not in the Golden Book.’

Her mother sighed irritably. ‘Let me worry about that. You just concern yourself with Bastian.’ She stood up and put the key in Claudia’s hand. ‘Aren’t you going to thank me?’

‘Of course,’ muttered Claudia. She leaned forward and gave her mother a kiss on the cheek.

‘Make sure you don’t waste this opportunity. And make sure you’re seen at the balcony of his box. I want everyone to know you were with Bastian. It’s time your name is mentioned in the
Gazetta Veneta
alongside his.’

Before Claudia could protest, her brother, Marco, appeared in the doorway of her bedroom. ‘Are we leaving now?’

‘Si, we’re ready,’ replied her mother. When Marco had walked away, her mother turned towards her and pointed to the key in Claudia’s right hand. ‘Our little secret,’ she whispered.

Their gondola was waiting at the palazzo’s water entrance. Claudia walked behind her mother and brother. She always made sure she was last to board. Those few stolen moments with Filippo were often the only thing that got her through the evening.

Claudia stepped up to the edge of the water steps and gave Filippo a conspiring smile. Sometimes they liked to put on an act of exchanging pleasantries about the weather for her mother, or whoever else Claudia was travelling with. Those performances were especially common if Claudia and Filippo had been together intimately that day, making the charade of being mere acquaintances even more amusing. But the sad reality was that Claudia had not found a chance to meet with Filippo in the last few days, and there was nothing amusing about that.

She placed her hand in his and they exchanged a silent, yearning gaze. Before he let go of her hand, he placed a fleeting kiss upon her glove and Claudia knew she was forgiven for her absence.

Inside the felze, her mother and brother were already exchanging gossip. Claudia had no interest in speculating who was going to be at La Fenice or who would be with whom. She sat back and enjoyed the sound of the oar slicing through the water.

She was feeling at ease until Marco kicked her with his foot. ‘I wonder if your lover will be there tonight. We should have invited him to share our box,’ he said.

Claudia felt her throat constrict. ‘I don’t know who you’re talking about. I have no lover,’ she said on the verge of shrieking.

Marco crossed his arms and leaned back against the pillows. The candle in a sconce on the wall of the felze illuminated his smug expression. ‘Come now, Claudia. It’s no secret that Salvador Oro is smitten with you.’

The blinds of the felze were open, but Claudia could not bring herself to turn her head and see Filippo’s reaction to the conversation. She knew he could hear every word, since he often made fun of pretentious things he’d heard said by his passengers.

‘You’re a liar! Take it all back,’ shrieked Claudia, feeling herself rapidly losing control.

‘Enough, both of you,’ snapped their mother. ‘Stay away from Salvador, Claudia. His family may have money, but they are of no importance. It’s Bastian Donato you should be concerning yourself with.’

‘I have no interest in Salvador or Bastian!’

‘Oh, is it two lovers now?’ said Marco. ‘You are a busy girl.’

Claudia wanted to disappear. Surely, Filippo knew her better than to believe what he was hearing.

‘Enough, Marco,’ said her mother. Looking out of window of the felze, she added, ‘Finally, we’re here.’

Her mother’s relief didn’t compare to the relief Claudia felt until she saw the queue of gondolas waiting to unload passengers. Claudia settled back into the awkwardness, silently begging Marco to keep his mouth closed. He did, though it had nothing to do with Claudia and everything to do with the women he was watching rising out of their gondolas.

Finally, their gondola pulled up alongside the water steps that spanned the length of the opera house’s facade. Light from the chandeliers inside spilled out onto the canal through the row of arched entryways.

Even from the gondola, Claudia saw that the passage leading through to the foyer was crowded with people from the highest ranks in society. Already, she could feel them pressing around her, suffocating her.

Marco got up first, followed by her mother while Claudia made a show of rearranging the bottom of her gown. When her mother’s back was to her, Claudia took off her black silk gloves and placed them on the seat next to her.

Filippo was standing on the water steps when Claudia rose out of the felze. His elbow was extended to help her out of the gondola onto the land, just as other gondoliers were doing for their passengers on either side of them. His eyes would not meet hers. Instead, he stared down at the dark water between the gondola and the steps.

Desperately, Claudia tried to whisper an apology, but she was standing in front of the opera house before the words left her mouth. When she turned around, Filippo had already leapt into the gondola and was busying himself with the oar.

‘Hurry up,’ said her mother, as she walked ahead through the entryway.

‘I think I see your Salvador up ahead,’ whispered Marco in her ear, before breaking away and disappearing into the crowd.

Her brother’s teasing had no effect on her. All Claudia could think was that she had to go back and explain the misunderstanding to Filippo. She hurried to catch up with her mother. When she was only a step behind, she gasped loudly.

Her mother turned around. ‘What is it now?’

‘I left my gloves in the gondola.’

Her mother exhaled sharply. ‘You better go collect them. Your bare hands make you look like a kitchen maid.’

Without responding to her mother’s remark, Claudia turned around. It took all her self-control to walk calmly. If she caused a scene by running from the building like a damsel, she would never hear the end of it. It wasn’t just her mother she was worried about. All around were the eyes of gossips that visited the Lion’s Mouth as often as they visited the mirror.

When Claudia emerged at the water’s edge, her eyes frantically searched the black vessels for Filippo. Finally, she saw him steering the gondola away from La Fenice. She opened her mouth to call out his name, but no sound came out. Her chest ached. Around her, people moved about without a care. She watched the gondola get further and further away. Just before it completely disappeared into the darkness, Filippo looked over his shoulder and their eyes met.

Claudia put all her love into her gaze.

Filippo turned around and did not look back.

Claudia sank into a settee at the far end of the sitting room. She squeezed her eyes shut to fight back tears, but behind her closed eyes she saw Filippo’s face as he looked back at her with such disappointment. Their relationship seemed to be one misunderstanding after another. Claudia didn’t know how long she could continue this way.

‘Are you all right?’ asked a girl with stunning red hair, who was sitting on another settee close by. Beside the girl was an older woman whose gown of ivory matched the walls and furniture of the sitting room. She was asleep, her head tipped forward. Claudia recognised her as one of the Signoras from the level of society her mother strove to gain entry into.

Claudia wiped the tears from her face with the back of her bare hand. ‘Si. No point crying over something I can’t change.’

‘I would suggest some wine,’ said the girl with a soft laugh that made her green eyes dance, ‘but I think my aunt is suffering the effect of too much of it.’ The girl’s words were punctured by a soft snore from her aunt.

‘I’ll be fine. I just need a place to hide,’ said Claudia, looking around the sitting room that was occupied with Signoras deep in whispered exchanges of gossip.

‘Well, this was the best place I could find to hide.’

‘I’m Claudia D’Este. I’ve seen you somewhere . . . Are you the girl who danced with Bastian at my mother’s ball?’

The girl nodded apologetically.

‘I must thank you for that. My mother was furious.’

‘I know,’ said the girl, averting her eyes.

‘What is your name?’

‘Orelia.’

‘So, Orelia, who are you hiding from? Do you have a controlling mother? Or a trouble-making brother?’

Orelia shook her head. ‘A man.’

‘Is he really bothering you? Do you need help?’ said Claudia, her brow creasing in concern. There was something about helping other people that made Claudia feel like she was not completely powerless.

‘No, not really. It’s just . . . awkward,’ she replied.

‘Well, if he does bother you and you get tired of hiding in here, I’m in box 25. You can come keep me company. Though my mother is there, so that’s probably not the best idea. Which box are you in?’

Orelia paused. ‘The Doge’s box.’

‘You’re the guest of Bastian Donato?’

‘Well, one of his guests; I’m accompanied by two . . . friends. They are the reason I had to come, or else I would have declined his invitation.’

‘Bastian might be immature, but he is a good man. He is a dear friend of my brother and he has always been kind to me.’ Claudia’s eyes flicked to the sitting room doors, half expecting her mother to come bursting through. ‘I’d love to stay and talk, but I’d better get going. It was nice to meet you, Orelia.’

‘And you,’ said Orelia. ‘You are nothing like your mother.’

Claudia smiled for the first time that evening.