Throughout this time, I visited Dario numerous times; always at his request, of course. Though for propriety
’s sake, he denied all other visitors. Each time, I marvelled at how he looked handsomer than ever; how the air of lethargy he assumed suited him perfectly. If he had experienced any grief over his daughter’s death, it did not show. Rather, he looked rejuvenated, as if a burden had been lifted from his shoulders. Always wise to the power and allure he had over women, he now put his full energy into winning me.
However,
now, my strategy had changed. I paid him scant attention and never went to him unless he pressed me to. All courtesies from me had ceased. He courted me, and I accepted his attentions with indifference. I played the part of a reserved woman, who preferred reading to his company. Sometimes, I sat with him in the salon, turning the leaves of a book and feigning to be absorbed in it, while he, from his velvet armchair, studied me with an insincere look of part respect and part admiration.
We had both heard from Beatrice. Although he never showed me her letter to him, he told me she had been distressed to hear of Chiara
’s death. The letter she had sent me, however, told a much different tale:
You can understand, my dear contessa, that I am not much grieved to hear of the death of Carlotta’s child. Had she lived, her presence would have been a perpetual reminder to me of things I prefer to forget. The child never liked me and would have been a great source of trouble and inconvenience; so, on the whole, I am glad she is out of the way. My uncle is close to death, yet, he clings to life. The physician promises me that it will not be much longer, otherwise I shall return to Vicenza and sacrifice my inheritance. I am restless and unhappy away from Dario, though I know he is under your safe and protective care.
I read this particular paragraph to my husband, watching him closely as I slowly enunciated the words contained in it. He listened, and his brows contracted in the vexed frown I knew so well.
His lips parted in a chilly smile.
“I owe you my thanks, contessa, for showing me the extent of Signorina Cardano’s insolence. I am shocked that she wrote to you in such a callous manner. My late wife’s attachment to her was so great that she now presumes to hold influence over me. I think she believes I am her brother and that she can interfere, as sisters sometimes do. I regret having been so patient with her and having allowed her far too much liberty.”
How true, I thought as I gave him a bitter smile. My game was in full fervour now and I must make my moves with swift stealth. I could
not afford the time to hesitate or to reflect.
I folded Beatrice
’s letter and replaced it in my purse. “I think Signorina Cardano is determined to be more than a sister to you.”
“
Then I fear Signorina Cardano is doomed to be disappointed,” he said with disdainful laugh. He rose and came to sit in a chair next to me. “Surely she is not so foolhardy as to hope I would marry her?”
“
Indeed, that is exactly what she confided to me.” Why did his duplicity continually catch me by surprise?
“
I am flattered, but how can you believe I would even consider marrying her?”
And still, I struggled with his treachery. He seemed to have no conscience. Why had I been so blind to him all the years of our marriage? All the passionate embraces, the lingering kisses, the vows of fidelity, and words of caressing endearment meant nothing to him. He had blotted them all from his memory. For a brief moment, I pitied Beatrice. Her fate, in his hands, was evidently to be the same as mine had been.
“Did you truly believe I might return Signorina Cardano’s interest in me?”
I knew I must respond.
“Of course I did. She is young, undeniably attractive, and on her uncle’s death will be quite wealthy. What more could you desire? Besides, she was your wife’s friend.”
“
And that is exactly why I would never marry her. Even if I liked her, which I do not, I would not wish to stir up such a scandal.”
“
I do not understand. Why do you suppose there would be a scandal?”
“
If I were to marry someone who was known to be my wife’s most intimate friend, people might believe there was something between us before my wife’s death. And I could not endure such slanderous scandal.” He paused. “They might even think I murdered her. A perfectly innocent woman like Signorina Cardano could not possibly foresee society’s condemnation.”
And you Dario, are rancorous and cruel, yet you do everything in your power to gain everyone
’s good opinion. You think you have fooled everyone who knows you, and you wish to entrap me, but you will not.
Despite my building anger, I had to answer him. “No one in my presence would dare slander you,” I said with as much courtesy as I could summon. “But, if it is true that you have no interest in Signorina Cardano—”
“
Of course it is true. She is low-class and unsophisticated. I believe she drinks far too much wine and I find her insufferable.” His face had become sombre as he looked down at his clasped hands.
“
Then I feel sorry for Beatrice; she will be deeply hurt, but I confess that a small part of me is glad.”
“
Why?” he asked eagerly.
I glanced away modestly.
“Because now other women have a chance to garner the attention of the handsome Signore Gismondi.”
He shook his head slightly
. A fleeting expression of disappointment appeared, and then disappeared on his face.
“
Other women
would not
aspire
to such ambition or the belief it is her duty to watch over me.” His eyes sparked with annoyance. “I suppose Signorina Cardano wishes to keep me for herself; a most brazen and stupid concept. There is only one thing to do; I will leave Vicenza before she returns.”
“
Why?” I asked.
“
To avoid her and to put some distance between us to cool her ardour for me,” he said, his face stone-like. “Lately, she frustrates me. I do not want her attentions and feel uneasy around her. But when I am with you, I am happy, peaceful, but I cannot allow myself to indulge in it.”
The moment had arrived and I stepped closer to him.
“Why not?” I said.
He half rose from his chair.
“What do you mean, contessa?” he faltered, his face hopeful. “I do not understand.”
“
You just said you are happy whenever you are with me, but that you cannot allow yourself to indulge in it. It seems to me that you could, if you were to take me as your wife.”
“
Contessa,” he stammered.
I held up my hand to silence him.
“I am perfectly aware of the disparity in years that exists between us. I am not young, healthy, or pleasant to look at. Trouble and bitter disappointment has made me what I am. But I have wealth, which is almost inexhaustible, along with position and influence.” I looked at him steadily. “And beside these things, I desire to give you all you deserve. If you think you could be happy with me, do not be afraid to tell me so. I cannot offer you the passionate adoration of a young woman, my blood is cold and my pulse is slow, but whatever I can do for you, I will!” I waited and gazed at him intently.
He opened and closed his mouth alternately, lost in thought. Then a triumphant smile curved his mouth. He raised his
eyes to mine tenderly. He came close up to me; his fragrant breath fell warm on my cheek. His strange gaze fascinated me, and a sort of tremor shook my nerves.
“
You mean that you are willing to marry me, but that you do not love me?” He laid his hand on my shoulder, his voice low and thrilling.
I remained silent, and for a moment, I battled the old foolish
desire to let him draw me to his heart, to permit his lips to cover mine with kisses. But I forced the mad impulse down and stood mute.
He watched me as he lifted his hand and touched my hair.
“
Si
, I believe you really do not love me, but I love you.” He held his head proud as he uttered the lie.
I seized the hand whose caress stung me, and held it hard.
“You love me? No, no, I cannot believe it. No man has ever loved me. It is impossible!”
He laughed softly.
“It is true though. The very first time I saw you I knew I loved you! I never liked my wife, though in some ways you resemble her, and are quite different in others. But you are far superior to her in every way. Believe it or not, you are the only woman I have ever loved!” He made the comment without flinching, with an air of conscious pride and virtue.
“
Then I will marry you,” I said, half stupefied at his manner.
“
I will make you love me very much!” he murmured, and with a quick, lithe movement, he pulled me softly against him and looked down at me with a radiant face. “Kiss me!” he said, and stooped to kiss me with his false lips.
I would
rather have placed my mouth on that of a poisonous snake, his kiss roused such fury within me.
He
led me gently back to the couch he had left, and I sat down beside him.
“
Do you truly love me?” I asked almost fiercely.
“
With all my heart.”
“
And I am the first woman whom you have really cared for?
“
You are!”
“
You never liked Signiorina Cardano?”
“
Never!”
“
Did you ever kiss her with all the emotion as you have me?”
“
Not once!”
Dio!
How the lies poured forth! A cascade of them and all spoken with an air of truth. I marvelled at the ease and rapidity with which they glided off his tongue. I took hold of his hand upon which he still wore the wedding ring I had once placed there and quietly slipped it off. Into his palm I placed a magnificent man’s ring with a square cut emerald. I had long carried this trinket about with me in expectation of this moment.
“
Oh, Giulia! How very lucky I am. How generous you are to me!” Leaning forward, he kissed me then slipped the ring on his finger. “You will not tell Beatrice?” he said with anxiety in his tone. “Not yet?”
“
No,” I answered. “I will not tell her until she returns. Otherwise she would leave Rome at once, and we do not want her back just yet, do we?” And I adjusted his collar, while I pondered the rapid success of my scheme.
He grew pensive and
distant, and for a few moments we were both silent. If he had known or imagined that he held his own wife in his arms, the woman he had duped and wronged, the poor fool he had mocked and despised, whose life had been an obstruction in his path, whose death he had been glad of, would he have smiled so sincerely? Would he have kissed me then?
He remained leaning against me
peacefully for some moments. “Will you do me one favor?” he asked. “Such a little thing, a trifle, but it would give me such pleasure!”
“
What is it?” I asked.
“
Take off those dark glasses. I want to see your eyes.”
I rose from the sofa quickly.
“Ask anything you like but that
caro
,” I responded with some coldness. “The least bit of light on my eyes causes me acute pain; pain that irritates my nerves for hours afterward. Be satisfied with me as I am for the present, though I promise you, your wish will one day be granted.”
“
When?”
“
On our wedding night,” I answered.
“
That is too long to wait,” he said crossly.
“
Not at all. We are now in November. May I ask you to allow me to set our wedding for the second month of the new year?”
“
But my recent widowhood! Chiara’s death!” he objected.
“
In February your wife will have been dead nearly six months. It is a sufficient period of mourning for one so young as yourself. And the loss of your child increases the loneliness of your situation. Society will not censure you for it.”
A smile of conscious triumph parted his lips.
“As you wish. If you, who are known in Vicenza as one who is perfectly indifferent to society’s opinion, wish it, I shall not object!” And he gave me a mischievous, amused look.
I saw it, but answered, stiffly,
“You are aware, Dario, and I am also aware that I am not a typical ‘lover’, but I readily admit that I am impatient.”
“
Why?” he asked.
“
Because, I want you to be my husband, to allow you to completely possess me, and to know that no one can come between us, or interfere with us in any way.”
He laughed.
“Your dignity will not allow you to believe that you are in love with me, but in spite of yourself you know you are!”
I stood before him in almost sombre silence.
“If you say so, then it must be so. I have had no experience in affairs of the heart, and I find it difficult to name the feelings that possess me. I am only conscious of a very strong wish to become the absolute mistress of your destiny, and you of mine.” Involuntarily, I clenched my hand as I spoke.