Morally Blasphemous (Morally Questionable Book 2)

by Veronica Lancet

  "I'm sorry," I say the moment I sit down, wanting to get this out before anything. "I shouldn't have..."

  "What are you talking about?" He frowns, leaning forward and placing his elbows on the desk.

  "Last night, I shouldn't have..." He tilts his head to the right, regarding me as if I'm spouting nonsense.

  "Catalina, what happened?" He asks again, a sudden look of worry on his face.

  Does he... not remember?

  "Why did you call me here?" I quickly change the subject so I won't incriminate myself anymore.

  "I wanted to talk to you about the governess matter," He says and pauses. "What were you sorry about? Did something happen?" He probes further.

  "I meant this morning," I amend, hoping he won't catch on. "I'm sorry I spent so much money," I say, and he immediately relaxes.

  "I told you to get whatever you need. You don't have to worry about money." He tries to comfort me, and I lower my gaze, guilty about my lie. But if he doesn't remember... Maybe he was asleep, and he didn't intend for it to happen. Especially since he's been very firm about his dislike of touch. The thought leaves me cold, but I shake myself out of it.

  "What about the governess then?" I try to immerse myself in the conversation and we sketch out the details for a few interviews.

  "Today?" It's a little sudden.

  "I've been putting this off for too long." He sighs. "I didn't realize how bad things were with Venezia before. She doesn't even know how to read."

  I frown. What?

  "She doesn't know how to read?" I repeat in shock.

  "No one showed an interest in her before... And she's fifteen. I never imagined the situation would be so bad." He confesses. "Assisi and Claudia should also benefit from it, since they haven't exactly had a normal education."

  "Yes. Claudia is still young, but Sisi... I'm worried how she will adjust to living outside of the convent."

  "I didn't know she disliked it in there so much..." He shakes his head. "If you'd like to be present for the interview, I have three candidates coming in a few hours."

  I readily agree.

  "Great. Meet me in," He looks at his watch, "two hours in the drawing room?"

  I nod and go back to my room to change.

  When I go down to the drawing room a while later, Marcello is already there, a newspaper on his lap.

  "The first candidate should be here in ten minutes." He casually mentions when I take a seat next to him. He seems to be totally indifferent to me, and I curse myself for even contemplating that we could be something more. It doesn't help that now I know what his touch feel like, what his lips on mine can make me feel.

  I let out a long sigh, telling myself to forget everything. It's just not meant to be.

  The first candidate comes in, and Marcello grills her on her experience. He does the same to the second and the third candidate, and we ultimately agree none of them would fit.

  "Why is this so hard?" He groans when we get a small break before the last person is supposed to come in.

  "I can't believe how snobbish they were," I'm already frustrated with the process. They'd all scoffed at the fact that Venezia is fifteen with no formal education. Marcello had guided the interview so they could show their true colors, having already had an awful experience with Venezia's last governess.

  Amelia announces that the last candidate is ready to come in. She looks to be around mid-thirties, definitely younger than the others before her. She takes a seat in front of us, and we proceed with the standard questions. Her answers are on point and I give Marcello a slow nod. She even got the tricky questions right.

  "One last thing," I add, wanting to be perfectly sure about this. "since the three of them are in different age ranges, and require different curriculums, how would you plan on making lessons cohesive so they also don't feel isolated." I'm hoping some shared lessons would help them bond with each other. God knows, Venezia really needs it.

  "Yes, of course. While perusing the job advertisement, I took the opportunity to draw up a mock schedule." She rummages through her dossier and stands up to hand us a sheet of paper. She goes directly to Marcello, however, when I was the one who asked the question. I try not to show my slight annoyance at this, but I feel better when Marcello shakes his head and motions towards me.

  The woman's smile is tight as she hands me the schedule. I look carefully, liking what I'm seeing. The shared time would be during art and etiquette classes. The plan is detailed enough that I can get a feeling of what she would teach them.

  "Very well," I look at Marcello and he agrees.

  "When can you start?" He asks, and she beams.

  "Anytime."

  "Even tomorrow?"

  "Yes."

  We spend some time sketching out the details, and Sarah, the governess, would get her own teaching room on the third floor, and free rein to use any resources she may need.

  After she leaves, I sigh in relief.

  "I'm so glad." I say out loud, to no one in particular.

  I turn my head and catch Marcello staring at me with a slight smile on his lips. When my eyes meet his, he suddenly averts his gaze.

  "Indeed." He says and quickly leaves the room.

  THE FOLLOWING MORNING, Amelia knocks on my door to inform me I have a delivery. I'm a little taken aback because I haven't ordered anything. I watch as a few men bring two gigantic boxes and leave them in my room.

  "Do you know what this is?" I ask Amelia, but she shakes her head and leaves me alone.

  Curious, I take a pair of scissors and start cutting through the top layer of the first box. When I see what's inside, I'm blown away.

  It's a sewing machine, with all the necessary accessories — needles, thread, scissors. Everything. Wow... I have no words.

  I quickly go to the second box, wanting to see what's inside that one too.

  "Dear Lord!" I mutter when I open it to find yards of material carefully folded. It's different fabrics and in most colors.

  After I've removed everything from the boxes, I find a note from Marcello.

  I hope you can do what you like now.

  My hand goes to my mouth, my eyes tearing up with emotion. He remembered what I said... And he surprised me with this.

  I just can't believe this.

  I assemble the sewing machine and peruse all the accessories, simply amazed at this thoughtful gift.

  I don't think anyone's ever given me something like this. When I was younger, my parents liked to pretend I didn't exist. I had my teachers, and the staff, but they were far from being my family. There was Enzo, but while he's always been nothing but kind to me, he was mostly absent while I was growing up. We are only a few years apart, but because he was my father's heir, he had different responsibilities. I'd only see him a couple of times per year. The rest of the time he was away in Sicily, doing who knows what.

  I dab the corner of my eye with the hem of my dress, feeling overwhelmed.

  I have to thank him!

  The thought springs up in my mind, and I immediately get to my feet. I dash down the stairs and go to Marcello's office, hoping to find him there.

  He's not.

  I ask some of the staff, and they tell me he left with someone a while ago.

  I sigh in disappointment. I really wanted to let him know how much his thoughtful gift means to me... but I guess I can do that later.

  Making my way back upstairs, I run into Sarah.

  "Mrs. Lastra." She greets me, and I give her an absent smile.

  "Sarah," I incline my head, not really paying much attention.

  "I just finished the lesson with Claudia. She's such a bright young lady." She comments and I instantly become alert.

  "She is, isn't she?" I say affectionately. "Thank you for doing this, I'm sure she's going to learn a lot from you." I add. But then I get a better look at Sarah and I have to blink twice.

  She's wearing a low-cut top and her breasts are practically hanging out of it. I have to snap my
eyes to her face and force myself to keep them there. Is that how people dress these days? I mean, it's getting warm outside, so maybe this is summer fashion.

  It doesn't help that she's paired the top with a very short skirt.

  Although I'm a little surprised by how little clothes she's wearing, I try to pretend that I don't notice. She can wear whatever she wants, but I might have a talk to Claudia so she doesn't get any ideas from it. I don't think I'm ready for my daughter emulating that quite yet.

  "I'll see you tomorrow." She takes her leave, and I go back to my room.

  I install everything nicely, and when Claudia comes by, I ask her to model for me. I think Marcello noticed her love of pink, because a lot of the fabrics are different shades of that color.

  We spend the rest of the day playing with fabrics, and Assisi and Venezia join us a little later.

  Over the next few days I continue to invite them so we can spend time together, bonding. Venezia seems to have thawed towards Claudia. Sisi, being Sisi, has gone a little crazy over her computer, and she rarely takes a break from it. She's been reading up on everything and anything. The lessons have helped them, and I've even noticed Venezia make an effort to learn her letters. After her hours with Sarah, I try to go over the material again with her. She needs all the help now until she can grasp the basics.

  I have to admit that Sarah is doing a magnificent job with the girls, even if her clothes seem to become shorter and shorter. Maybe it's just me, but sometimes I can't help but stare at her. I'm glad Marcello is mostly away, because wouldn't it be embarrassing for him to see her like this? I shake my head at the thought.

  I've seen little of him lately. I thanked him for the gift, but his response had been perfunctory at best and he'd hurried to leave the house. The entire week passes in a blur. The girls are either at their lessons or keeping me company while I try to make a dress for Claudia.

  I'd been hoping to show my progress to Marcello too, but he's always absent. Well, today I know for sure he is at home.I sigh deeply and look at the bodice I'd sewn together. It looks nice for a first attempt. I remove the safety needles and take it with me downstairs.

  I'm about to knock on the door of his study when I hear voices.

  "The girls are doing great. Thank you, Sarah." Marcello tells her in his usual monotonous tone.

  He's busy... It wouldn't be right of me to eavesdrop. I take a step back, intent on leaving them to chat and coming back later. But then I hear Sarah speak.

  "There are ways to thank me," She says and I still. Her voice is completely different from the one she's used with me or the girls. It's high pitched and...

  "I think your salary shows my wife and I's appreciation." Marcello replies drily. I blush at his words. I like it when he calls me his wife.

  Sarah bursts out laughing at his words.

  "Your wife," she starts in between laughing, "you mean the one with the frumpy clothes?" I look down at my dress, frowning. I don't think it's frumpy... why would she say that?

  "I can't believe a man like you would actually find that attractive." Sarah has the gall to say and I gasp. What?

  "Sarah, please refrain from talking like that about my wife." Marcello tells her and it gives me a little hope. Still, the jab hurts. Mainly because maybe he doesn't find me attractive....

  "Why? I'd be offending her tender feelings? Don't worry, she won't hear anything from me." She says and I hear movement. I can't help but glue my ear to the door, wanting to know what's going on.

  "Sarah, I'd appreciate if you do not come into my personal space. This is inappropriate." Marcello tells her off very professionally.

  "Please, Mr. Lastra. I know men like you." She replies, and there's a pause.

  "Sarah, please put your clothes back on and leave." He emphasizes the word leave. Why is he telling her to put her clothes on? What's happening?

  My heart is racing, and I don't know if I should just barge in or not. I can't hear anything anymore, and I start fretting.

  Is Marcello... no, he wouldn't do that.

  My hand is on the doorknob and I debate with myself whether to open the door. I...

  A loud sound jerks my attention, and I push the door open, consequences be damned. Sarah turns towards me, her mouth wide open. She's missing her top, her breasts bare. I quickly shift my gaze towards Marcello and I gasp when I see him on the floor, a blank look on his face. His hands are wrapped around his knees and he's rocking very slowly, almost out of it.

  "What happened?" I ask Sarah.

  "Nothing... I... I just touched him and then he was like that," she stammers, but I don't care. She touched him. Marcello doesn't like to be touched. And now he's...

  "Out!" I say, my voice firm.

  "But..."

  "Get the hell out before I throw you myself. And don't think about coming back!" Her eyes are wide with fear and she nods slowly before leaving the room.

  I close the door after her and kneel on the floor next to Marcello.

  "Marcello," I call out, my voice soft.

  He's shaking, his whole body shuddering as he's rocking faster and faster.

  "Marcello, you're safe." I try again.

  I'm so scared. Just looking at him like this, it's enough to bring tears to my eyes. She touched him. She fucking touched him and now he's... he's shut down, hasn't he?

  "Marcello," I lower my voice, "look what I have here. I made this with the materials you gifted me." I pull the bodice I'd made in front of him and start talking. Maybe changing the subject could help him get out of whatever place he shut himself in.

  I tell him all about the process and how I'd worked on it.

  "I want to make a princess dress for Claudia. You remember Claudia? She's my daughter." His rocking slows down a little, and he raises his head to look at me. His gaze is still blank, but one word escapes his lips.

  "Claudia?" He croaks, and my heart bursts with emotion in my chest.

  "Yes, Claudia is my daughter. You've met her. She's almost ten and she's a little troublemaker." I tell him stories about Claudia scaring the nuns off at the convent, about her little stunts and her newly found love of chocolate.

  "Catalina?" His voice is hoarse as he says my name, and I eagerly nod.

  "Yes, it's me. Do you recognize me?"

  His eyes look straight at me and he furrows his brows, as if clearing the fog surrounding his mind.

  "Catalina?" He blinks twice. He then leans forward, dropping his knees to the floor.

  "Are you alright?" I move as close to him as I can without making him uncomfortable.

  "Now I am," he whispers, "thank you."

  "What for?" I ask, baffled.

  "You made them go away..." He responds, looking above my head.

  "Who, Sarah?"

  "No," he shakes his head and takes a deep breath, "the demons. You made the demons go away." He says in all seriousness.

  And then he does something that surprises me. His hand hesitantly reaches out and with the tip of his finger, he strokes my cheek with the ghost of a touch.

  "You always chase the demons away." He whispers and a tear falls down his cheek.

  Figliuol mio, qui può essere tormento, ma non morte.

  -Dante Alighieri, Purgatorio Canto XXVII

  Chapter Fifteen

  SOMETIMES IT FEELS LIKE dying; like a thousand needles poke at your skin at the same time, inflicting infernal torture on your body.

  That's what it felt like when Sarah put her hand on my face. I barely felt the contact before my mind simply retreated. It's easy enough by now. I have my own little corner in my head where no one can come in. Where the monsters are kept at bay. Where I'm alone... but at least I'm safe. It's like a white room with no windows and no doors. I don't know where the light comes from, but my mind must have figured out it keeps the monsters away.

  And yet, sometimes, they still get in.

  It's not the first time that the room has felt too big, like there's too much room for the monsters to ro
am freely. And so I downsize. I imagine a box. A small box that holds only me inside. Because in my mind, I'm small too. Still a child. I fit myself to the box so that there's no space for other creatures. And then I wait, humming a prayer to myself. I wait for the safety that almost never comes.

  But this time it's different.

  The more I wish to disappear within myself, the louder a voice from the outside becomes. A soft voice that speaks of simple things, like taking measurements for a dress. A melodious voice that makes me feel calm... secure. She says a name... Claudia, and my heart contracts with a foreign feeling. And then she tells me about this young girl, her adventures, her growing up.

  I don't know how, but my box expands. I want to clutch at it and hold it together, but it slowly unravels, until I find myself in the room again. And I'm not alone. In my white room, I see this beautiful angel whispering soothing words. The more I listen, the more entranced I am by the sound.

  Until a door appears.

  No!

  I don't want to face the demons. They'll take me away.

  I seek to hide, but her lovely voice won't let me. It permeates every atom of the room, and echoes in my very being. She holds her hand in front of me, but I just shake my head. I can't touch her. She's too pure... I'd taint her.

  "I'll keep you safe." The angel tells me, and I raise my head to gaze into her eyes.

  A blinding light assaults me, and whether out of fear or a sense of safety, I grasp her hand.

  "Catalina?"

  It's hard for my eyes to adjust to daylight. Catalina is sitting on her haunches, her face filled with worry.

  "Are you alright?" She asks, sliding towards me.

  "Now I am," I try to form the words "thank you."

  She has no idea just what she's done for me.

  "What for?" She frowns.

  "You made them go away..." I don't know if she understands... Probably no one does.

  "Who, Sarah?" The name of that woman makes me curl my lip in disgust.

  "No," I pause, trying to find a way to make her understand, "the demons. You made the demons go away."