The Contessa's Vendetta (41 page)

In answer
, he kissed me. Strive against it as I would, I always shuddered at the touch of his lips. A mingled sensation of loathing and longing possessed me that sickened while it stung my soul.

“
Amore!
” he murmured. “As if I could blame you for anything. In my eyes, you have no faults. You are perfect; good and generous, the best of women. There is only one thing I wish sometimes—” He paused and knitted his brow into a frown as a puzzled, pained expression flitted into his eyes.

“
And that one thing is?” I inquired.

“
That you did not remind me so often of Carlotta,” he said, abruptly and half angrily. “Not when you speak of her, I do not mean that. What I mean is, that you have ways and mannerisms exactly like hers. Of course I know there is no actual resemblance, and yet—” He paused, and looked troubled.

“
Really,
caro
,” I remarked lightly. “You truly do embarrass me. This belief of yours is most awkward. When I visited you at the monastery, you became quite ill at the sight of my hand, which you declared was exactly like that of your wife’s. And now, you are doing it again. The same morbid notion has entered your head once more. Perhaps you think I am your late wife?” And I laughed aloud.  

He frowned a
little, but soon laughed also. “I know it sounds absurd Perhaps I am a little nervous. Tell me more about the jewels. When will I see them?”

“
Tomorrow night during the ball, you and I will slip away together. It will not take long and we will return again before any of our friends miss us. You do want to go, don’t you?”

“
Of course, but I don’t want to be gone for long because my valet will have to pack my clothes and personal items in preparation for leaving for Rome and Paris in the morning.”

“
That is the arrangement,” I said, with a cold smile.

“
The place where you have hidden your jewels is nearby?”

“
Very near,” I assured him, watching his reaction closely.

He
laughed and rubbed his hands together. “But why not fetch them now and bring them here. Then we wouldn’t have to leave the ball.”

“
Oh, goodness, I’ve accumulated far too many, and I do not know which pieces you would prefer. Some are more valuable than others and I have waited a long time to watch you make your choice.”

He
smiled craftily. “And what would you think if I made no choice at all. What would you say if I were to take them all?”

“
You are perfectly welcome to them,” I replied. “As many or as few as you wish.”

He
looked taken aback. “You truly possess a generous heart,” he said.

“
You deserve it. Good men are as rare as fine brilliants—difficult to find but wonderful to keep.”

He
caressed my hand. “No one has ever loved me as you have.”

“
Not even Beatrice Cardano?” I suggested, acidly.

He
straighted and gave me look of disdain. “Beatrice Cardano! She was a mere servant and not worthy of my interest. It was only lately that she began to take advantage of the trust my wife had in her, and then she became too ardent towards me; a grave mistake on her part.”

I rose from my seat
beside him, struggling to maintain my composure while sitting so close to the murderer of my friend and his lover. Had he forgotten his own ardency towards Beatrice; the thousand tricks and spells by which he had captivated her heart, her spirit, and ruined her respectability?

“
I grieve her death, and shall always continue to do so,” I said, coldly and steadily. “Sadly, I am oversensitive and often, even small problems have an adverse affect on me. Speaking of Beatrice upsets me. It’s best that I leave. Goodby until tomorrow, when we will be finally married.”

He
came to me before me and pulled me to him.

“
Are you certain we should not meet again till we meet in the church?”

“
Si.
It’s best that we each remain alone on our last day before marriage so that we have time to contemplate our future together. Besides, it will make us yearn for each other more.”

He toyed with a loose curl beside my left cheek and
I took hold of his hand. “I see you are still wearing your former wedding-ring. May I have it?”

“
Certainly.”

I smiled as I watched him draw off
the plain gold band I had placed there nearly four years ago. “May I keep it?”

“
Of course. I would rather not see it again.”

“
I promise you shall not.” I slipped it into my purse. “I will replace it with a new one tomorrow—one that I hope brings you more blessings and good fortune than this one has.”

And as
his eyes turned to me with deceitful dreaminess, I fought back my hatred of him with every shred of strength I possessed, and let him kiss me. Had I acted on my true urge, I would have pulverized his foot with my heel, or slapped his face with brutal ferocity. I loathed him, bitterly, to the point that I felt ill at his caress, yet I managed to hide all signs of my hatred. All he saw was his elderly fiancé with her calm, courteous demeanor, chill smile, and parental tenderness; and he considered me an important woman of high-rank and unlimited wealth, who was about to make him one of the richest men in all of Europe.

He likely
thought my resemblance to his dead wife was purely accidental. After all, similarities in face and body are common. Although my likeness to myself was astounding and troubled him, he was a long way from discovering the truth. How could he? Who would ever believe that someone who was dead and buried could escape from their grave?

Soon, I left him and made my way home. There, I
found Ernesto Paccanini waiting for me. He was seated in the outer entrance hall and I bade him follow me as I entered my private salon. Unsettled by the splendor of the room, he paused at the doorway, and stood, red cap in hand, hesitating, though with an amiable smile on his sunburned face.

“
Please come in and sit down. Do not let this gaudy display of silk and gilding prevent you from making yourself comfortable. After the sparkling waves and blue sky, and the sheeny white sails of your ship gleaming in the sun, this room must seem taudry to you. I would love to live a life such as yours. There is nothing better than the fresh air, the sun on your face, and the wind in your hair to truly feel close to Heaven.”

At my words, he seemed to relax. Almost at once, he
ignored the oppulent décor and costly luxuries around him and entered confidently, sitting himself on a velvet and gold chair with as much ease as if he had done so all his life.

“
How true, contessa.” His white teeth gleamed through his jet-black mustache while his warm southern eyes flashed fire. “There is nothing sweeter than a sailor’s life. There have been many who encourage me to wed and start a family, but it is not so easy. The woman I wed must love the sea. She must be strong enough to wait through God’s storms without fear. Her tender words must ring out loud and clear above the sound of the waves crashing against the ship when the wind is strong. And as for our children,” he paused and laughed. “My children will have the ocean’s salt in their blood, or they will be no children of mine!”

I smiled at his
zeal, poured out some Prosecco, and invited him to taste it. He smacked his lips in appreciation and raised his glass. “To your health, contessa! May you live long and enjoy your life!”

I thanked him
, but in my heart I carried little hope that his good wish would come true. “And are you going to listen to your friends’ advice? Will you marry one day?”

He set down his
partly empty glass, shrugged, and smiled mysteriously. A sudden tenderness flowed in his keen eyes. “Who knows? There is a young woman. My mother loves her very much. She is as small and beautiful as Cesare Negri’s Teresa.” He placed his brown hand over his heart. “Her head reaches to here. She looks frail as a lily, but is hardy as a sea-gull, and no one loves the wild waves more than she. Perhaps, in a few months, when the white lilies bloom, perhaps I will ask her to marry me then.” He raised his glass of wine to his lips and drained it off with a relish, while his honest face beamed with pleasure.

Always the same story, I thought, moodily. Love, the tempter
. Love, the destroyer. Love, the curse. Was there no escape from this snare that trapped and slayed women’s souls?

Ernesto Paccanini
snapped out of his enjoyable day-dream and pushed his chair closer to mine. “And for your friend who is in trouble,” he whispered in a low, confidential tone, then paused and looked at me as though waiting permission to proceed.

I nodded.
“Go on. What have you arranged?”

“
Everything!” he announced, with an air of triumph. “All is smooth sailing. At six o’clock on Friday morning the
Rondinella
, that is the brig I told you of, will weigh anchor for Civita Vecchia. Her captain, old Antonio Bardi, will wait ten minutes or even a quarter of an hour if necessary for the—the—”

“
Passenger,” I interjected. “That is very kind and generous of him, but he will not need to delay his departure for even a moment. Is he satisfied with the passage money?”

“
Satisfied!” Enrico swore a good-natured oath and laughed aloud. “By San Pietro! If he were not, he would deserve to drown like a dog on the voyage! Though truly, he is not an easy man to please. He is old, cross, and crusty; a man who has seen so much of life that they are tired of it. Even the stormiest sea is a tame fish-pond to old Bardi. But he is satisfied this time, contessa. I assure you, your friend will find him to be both dumb and blind when she comes on board.”

“
Perfect!” I smiled. “
Mille grazie
, Enrico. I owe you a thousand thank-yous, but I have one more favor to ask of you.”

In a light, yet graceful gesture, he bowed his head to invite me to speak. “
Contessa, anything I can do, you have merely to command me.”

“
It is a small favor,” I returned. “Would you take a small valise belonging to my friend, and place it on board the
Rondinella
under the care of the captain. Will you do this?”

“
Most willingly. I will take it now if you wish.”

“
Yes please. If you don’t mind waiting here a moment, I will bring it to you.”

L
eaving him, I went to my bedroom, and from a locked cupboard, I took out a leather bag, which I had secretly packed myself, unknown to Santina, with useful and necessary items. Most important among them was a bulky sack of gold florins. These amounted to nearly all that remained of the money I had placed in the bank at Pescara. I withdrew it in small amounts, leaving behind only a couple of thousand
scudi
, for which I had no special need. I locked and strapped the bag which bore no name on it and was of average weight to carry.

I
handed it to Enrico, who swung it easily in his right hand. “Your friend is not wealthy, contessa, if this is all she has for luggage!”

“
You are right,” I answered, with a slight sigh. “She is truly very poor, beggared of everything that should be hers through the treachery of those who she once trusted.”

Enrico
was listening sympathetically.

“
That is why I have paid her passage-money and have done my best to help her.”

“
You have a good heart, contessa. Pity there weren’t more like you. This friend of yours is young, without doubt?

“
Si
, quite young, not yet thirty.”

“
It is as if you were a mother to her! I hope she is truly grateful to you.”

“
I hope so too,” I said, unable to resist a smile. “And now, my friend, take this.” I pressed a small sealed packet into his hand. “This is for you, but you must promise me that you will not open it until you are home with your mother and the young woman you spoke. If its contents please you, as I believe they will, remember that I am overjoyed by your happiness.”