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A Shadowed Fate

Page 20

by Marty Ambrose


  Night after night, I would dream that he arrived as the spring flowers began to bloom.

  My papa.

  Would he ever come?

  TEN

  ‘The age which I anticipate, no less

  Shall be the Age of Beauty …’

  The Prophecy of Dante, IV, 71–72

  Villa Gamba, near Ravenna

  1873

  Trelawny and I stood in front of Teresa’s fireplace looking down into the ashes of what had been Byron’s memoir. It had burned very quickly, leaving only dusty echoes of what had been. All the passion and dreams for a united Italy ended in flames – along with his memories of the Carbonari.

  ‘I am sorry I could not save even a page.’ He sifted through what was left with the poker but came up with nothing.

  ‘But I have the last one in my pocket – I put it there earlier to read alone.’ Covering his hand with mine, I stopped his efforts. ‘The important thing is everyone is safe, and we shall never have to confront Matteo ever again. He is truly dead.’

  ‘He is indeed.’ Lieutenant Baldini walked with halting steps into the parlor; a bandage had been placed around the cut on his neck. ‘I just had two local police officers remove Matteo’s body to Ravenna. We shall then have it taken back to Firenze and buried quietly without telling his elderly aunt – the only Ricci family member who is still alive.’

  ‘Will you tell her what actually happened – choose honesty – unlike Aunt Claire who seems to have withheld information from us?’ Paula asked as she joined us, accompanied by Raphael; he carried Georgiana as if she were the most precious cargo – and she was, indeed.

  I offered her a look of apology.

  ‘It is kinder to lie sometimes.’ Baldini shook his head. ‘She has suffered enough because of his disgrace when he was arrested … I will simply have him placed in the family tomb; she will never know. The man whose body already lies there shall remain.’

  Raphael set Georgiana down, and she immediately ran over to me. I held her close.

  ‘Do not fear; I will find who is responsible for helping Matteo with his evil plot – and his buyer in Ravenna.’ Baldini’s voice hardened. ‘And I must apologize to all of you about Trelawny’s note. When he sent word that you had taken a detour to Bagni di Lucca, I never received the message because I had already left Firenze – my investigation led me to one of Matteo’s money lenders who believed that Matteo might have been behind the vandalism at your apartment, though I did not know he was still alive. When I heard a rumor that the Cades drawing might surface in Ravenna, I headed here to catch the thief and warn you.’

  ‘Do you have the sketch?’ I inquired, ready to pardon his actions.

  ‘It is safely locked away in the Ravenna police station – the officers found it in Matteo’s hotel room.’

  A sense of elation rose up inside of me. I had regained my drawing of the obelisk in Boboli Gardens – the place that had been the scene of one of my greatest sorrows and greatest joys. And now it would provide me with the means to support my family … no more poverty.

  I leaned down briefly and placed a soft kiss on Georgiana’s head. My dear one would want for nothing.

  As I straightened, I saw Paula and Raphael share a smile of deep love.

  Ah … the world seemed to have righted itself finally.

  ‘What about the quest for your daughter, Signora?’ Baldini queried. ‘Will you continue your search?’

  My eyes slid to Trelawny. ‘I … I am not sure. We have reached a blind alley, with no other place to go. There are no records at the convent that would indicate Allegra survived, and Signora Guiccioli is the only one still alive who would remember anything that could help us.’ I took in a deep breath. ‘It may be enough to know that she may have lived.’

  Baldini bowed. ‘Then I shall see you in Firenze.’

  Trelawny escorted him out as Teresa rejoined us.

  I took her hands in mine and switched to Italian. ‘I regret that this day brought so much upset into your home, but I am happy to have finally met you.’

  ‘And I, you.’ She clasped my fingers tightly, her eyes bright with affection. ‘It should have happened long ago. I can only say again that I wish I knew more about your daughter. Allegra was happy in Ravenna – I know that – though she missed her true mamina.’ She produced a small stack of letters tied with a blue ribbon. ‘I have a present for you. These are my brother Pietro’s letters of Byron’s final days.’

  ‘But I cannot take them—’

  ‘I insist.’ Teresa placed them in my palm. ‘It is my way of sharing Byron with you. We both meant something to him in the end …’

  Words failed me, but I managed to give her a quick embrace of true gratitude for a woman who had lost almost as much as I had. ‘I have one last thing to ask you: did Byron ever mention Ludovico di Breme?’

  ‘The poet?’ Her brows knit in puzzlement. ‘Only in passing – they knew each other in Ravenna and both loved Dante.’

  ‘Nothing else? Especially about his servant, Stefano?’

  ‘Not that I remember – I am sorry.’ She gave a helpless shrug. ‘Will you return immediately to Firenze?’

  ‘In a day or two,’ I replied.

  ‘Please come back for tea before you go,’ she said. ‘I never finished showing you the rose garden.’

  ‘It will be my pleasure.’ I placed Pietro’s letters in my bag with Byron’s – they belonged together as two soldiers who fought side by side in Greece. ‘Then we will travel home, with perhaps a short stop at the Convent of Bagnacavallo along the way.’

  ‘I understand … Please convey my regards to the Abbess; it has been a long time since I have seen her – it is unfortunate that she could not remember anything about Allegra’s time at the convent.’

  ‘She was sort of … helpful,’ Paula added diplomatically.

  Sighing, I swung my gaze to the small portrait of Byron; it seemed to fit the spot perfectly now. ‘She researched the convent’s records, but they stated only that Allegra died of the typhus—’

  ‘Why would she need to look at any records?’ Teresa’s brows rose. ‘The Reverend Mother was a novice then – in charge of Allegra – so she was there at the time. I thought she must have told you.’

  ‘But Byron’s memoir said Sister Anna took care of my daughter,’ I said, a spark of confusion igniting within me.

  ‘The Abbess is Sister Anna.’

  The room turned utterly silent. Everything in place. But somehow also changed with the echo of her words.

  When Trelawny returned, I moved toward him slowly and deliberately. ‘We must return to Bagnacavallo tomorrow,’ I pronounced. We had traveled too far on this journey not to pursue this one last detour. ‘Apparently, the Abbess withheld an important fact from us: she was the novice in charge of Allegra.’

  Trelawny grew very still. ‘So she knows the truth?’

  ‘Yes.’ And I would move heaven and earth to find it.

  Il cielo et la terra.

  Heaven and earth.

 

 

 


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