by Fanny Finch
It would have seemed an impossibility once. And yet, such change had transpired before Georgette’s very eyes.
Their elder brother, Thomas, had all but abandoned his parents when their status elevated his as well. Christopher, Georgette’s twin, was still very much involved with the family in theory, but he was away at university studying medicine just now.
With their sons doing so well, Mr. and Mrs. Caulfield could only focus on controlling their daughters. Now that Thea and Delia were beyond their reach, Georgette, the youngest, had become the sole recipient of their suffocating attention.
“I suppose I shall speak with your father once more,” Mrs. Caulfield declared, apparently relenting to Georgette’s desires, but in truth searching for ways this request could be spun into something beneficial for her daughter’s future.
“Thank you, Mama,” Georgette said with a relieved grin.
“You are correct that it would be wise for us to expose you to culture and all that, I suppose…” Mrs. Caulfield contemplated thoughtfully.
“It would make you more valuable, to be sure.”
Georgette inwardly flinched at the word ‘valuable’.
“I mean, it will give you something to speak about with potential suitors and they will see something mysterious in you,” Mrs. Caulfield speculated.
This was not a reason Georgette cared to consider. She hated the thought of being a commodity, but their father had spent many years as a merchant, so she figured it was only to be assumed that she would be treated thus.
“Yes, I suppose so,” she managed to reply.
“The only issue, dear, is that I do not think your father will be able to take the time away from his business. You know what an important man he is there. Without him, the entire company might even collapse!” Mrs. Caulfield exaggerated.
Georgette nodded as if genuinely concerned, but she knew the truth of the matter, of course.
Her father was, indeed, vital to the company. However, it was the very fact of him being such a good business man that enabled him to be occasionally absent: he had trained his staff well.
What her father really didn’t want and was therefore hesitant to leave, was to miss out on the recognition of his efforts. The admiration. The praise. The flattery.
He rather enjoyed the gentleman’s club that he often attended with other men of high society. He had even engaged in conversation with a few barons and a duke, he would often remark.
These were the pleasures of his new wealth that caused her father to hate the idea of being away.
If he was not wandering around Cambridge, he was finding his way to London. Anywhere other than those two cities and he was entirely at a loss for how to flaunt his name.
“Yes, it is a very grave struggle,” Georgette remarked, taking care not to sound caustic – her parents detested the causticity that was sometimes naturally escaping in her tone. It was quite unladylike, they claimed.
She brushed back a strand of dark brown hair that had fallen into her face.
“I know Papa is very important and loves to work hard. But maybe if he was able to get away for just a few days... It might be good for him to take a break.”
Mrs. Caulfield seemed to be considering this. Perhaps it really could be good for him.
“Alright then, I shall discuss it with him again this evening and see what he says,” she finally decided.
Georgette was relieved knowing that her persistence seemed to be proving useful.
If she could truly convince her parents to allow her to travel to the Papal States and Rome in particular, she felt as though her life might never be the same again.
Georgette could not quite explain her reasons for wanting to travel there so desperately. She knew no one from Rome. She knew very little about the Papal States and the duchies of the Italian peninsula, save what she had read about it in books.
But Miss Franklin had described what she saw when she traveled there once before with a former charge. She insisted it was the very place for all young women to go and that Georgette had to experience it immediately.
From that day onwards, Georgette had been obsessed with the thought. All she could think about was going to Rome and seeing the beauty of it.
As the day wore on, Georgette could not control her eagerness. Patience was far from her, and she wished only for the moment in which she might hear a definitive answer by her father.
If that answer was an affirmative one, then she would not manage to keep her feet on the ground, for her joy would sweep her away.
Miss Franklin began Georgette’s studies for the day and noticed that there was something quite different about her.
“Oh, Miss Franklin, Mama is going to ask Papa again about Rome!” Georgette exclaimed excitedly. “Can you imagine it? I really might get to go!
”We might finally be able to spend some time away from here and get to see the beauty of everything you have told me about!”
Miss Franklin seemed excited as well. “Truly? You believe we shall go?”
Georgette nodded enthusiastically, knowing that her governess would also be thrilled to chaperone another trip to the country that had quite charmed her. It was not only a treat for Georgette, but for all who would attend the journey with her.
“That is very good news, indeed, Miss Caulfield. Now, we had best put our excitement aside and begin your classes,” the governess instructed, evidently trying to get her own thoughts on the right path as well.
Georgette spent the next few hours working on the French language and comportment.
She crossed the room several times with a board strapped to her back so that she might remain straight as she walked. It was terribly uncomfortable, but she had grown used to it.
Georgette thought about her sisters, who never had to suffer through these things.
Thea had been married off before the family came into their wealth, and Delia had been cast aside, having become a governess and being considered not worthy of the family name.
Of course, both of them went on to make quite spectacular matches in marriage and lead happy lives.
A merchant’s daughter was now a duchess and a governess had become a countess. If they had both managed such a feat, who would Georgette become?
This thought distracted her, and Georgette failed to realize that she had been trailing a little to the left. Her foot caught and she stumbled forward.
“Oh dear! That won’t do at all, Miss Caulfield,” Miss Franklin tutted.
Georgette released a sigh of frustration.
She didn’t want to marry. At least, not any of the men her mother and father were certain to choose.
She didn’t wish to become a duchess or a countess. Not even a baroness. Her sisters had been fortunate, but their fortune lay in the characters of the men they chose, not their titles.
They were loved and cherished by good men, that was the most important thing. It did Georgette no good to hope that she might stumble upon a man as kind and loving as her sisters’ husbands. No, she was not likely to find that at all.
She didn’t mind, however. Georgette wanted to be an explorer, not a wife. She wanted to be brave and strong and independent.
She was none of those things, really. But the dream was nice enough. And if she was resigned to a life strapped to a board, there was very little to entice her to remain there.
After her lessons, Georgette made her way down the stairs to the dining room where her parents were already seated.
Mr. Caulfield looked up at his daughter curiously, and Georgette could not help but feel as though she was being examined.
She walked in with elegance, the extra flush in her cheeks still visible from having rushed to dinner. She curtseyed before her mother and father before the footman pulled out her chair so that she might be seated.
The dining room was decorated rather beautifully, and although it was dim, her father had done all he could to make the space appear larger than it was.
Their new home was vast compared to the previous one, but it was still an effort to make it appear as grand as others – the houses of the people her parents tried so desperately to imitate.
As Georgette sat silently, wordlessly observing everything around her, she was still aware that her father was watching her.
Finally, he clasped his hands together and cleared his throat to speak.
“My dear Georgette,” he began.
“Yes, Papa?” she replied in a gentle, feminine way.
“It has come to my attention that you are still rather fixated on the thought of a journey to Rome. Is that so?” he asked.
“Indeed, Papa. If you think it would be wise, I should very much like to go, as I believe that it will expand my worldview and increase my value in society,” she told him calmly what she knew he wanted to hear.
He observed her a moment longer before replying.
“Indeed, I believe it to be so as well. While I am not able to spend the entire duration of the journey with you and your mother, I believe it would do well for us all to have a brief stay outside of England and for us to… broaden our prospects, so to speak,” he remarked.
Georgette could scarcely contain herself. Her father had approved! She would finally be able to travel and spend time in Rome as she had been dreaming of! She would be able to see the beauty and the art and the history!
“Oh, Papa, thank you!” she replied, trying with all her might to stay restrained. But she knew that the joy could not be kept from her face.
Her father began to laugh a little as he watched her try to show restraint, but Mrs. Caulfield seemed slightly aloof in her attitude.
Georgette could see that her mother was also looking forward to the trip, but it was simply not in her character to be glad to have worked in support of her daughters.
“So, having said that, my dear, we shall depart in a week’s time,” Mr. Caulfield announced. “I will remain with you for merely a week before you and your mother are left with Miss Franklin as your chaperone. You may stay another three weeks without me.”
Georgette nodded obediently and didn’t speak, not wanting to interrupt whatever he had to say.
She would be spending four whole weeks in Rome! And if she was fortunate enough, she might just be allowed more journeys abroad in the future.
Her heart felt light as it was lifted by the wings of her dream. For the first time, Georgette allowed herself to think of a future where everything was possible.
Chapter 2
Mattia was making his way outside in the hopes that he would find just the right flower to add to the painting.
He had plenty of reds and yellows, but there were no oranges. It was his philosophy that a painting of flowers must also resemble a sky, and this painting was meant to resemble a sunset.
He had done another one like it only days before, with a series of blue and purple flowers imitating the periwinkle of the first moment of the morning, when the sun had lit the distant sky but remained still hidden.
Of course, most people found this sort of thing to be rather foolish, but to Mattia, it made all the difference.
Now that he was continuing to work towards making connections outside of Rome, it was all he needed to convince new patrons to hire him to take on their portraits.
London… It was a place he had always wished to visit. He was finally managing to gain clients there, and Mattia was thrilled beyond belief.
Oftentimes, when the elite of that distant and beautiful city would come to visit the Papal States or Siga, he had indulged in the idea of following them as they returned to England.
He knew that, more than anything, he would love the opportunity to walk those streets, to taste their strange food, and to practice his language skills with them.
But life as an artist was far from simple… and for a man like him, it was simply shameful.
He returned inside his house with the right flower from the luscious gardens, but a servant soon came to announce that Mattia’s father wished to speak to him.
Mattia made his way through the house in trepidation and reached the study of the Count of Siga, his father.
“What are you doing with your days, I have to wonder?” the Count immediately asked in his deep Italian voice.
Mattia looked down in shame, knowing where this question would lead.
His father was always disappointed in him for wanting to pursue art. Almost as disappointed as he was that Mattia preferred to communicate in English whenever he could, in order to improve it.
“What is this I have heard about you going through town, visiting the art museums, speaking with other wealthy men about the riches of your craft? Do you not know how this embarrasses me?” his father asked in muted anger, his heavy mustache bounding above his top lip as he spoke.
Mattia still did not look his father in the eye. They were the same color as his own, a deep brown. Mattia’s, though, were surrounded by thick, long lashes that oftentimes made him feel as though they belonged to his mother more than to himself.
Mattia had been trying to make new contacts in town that day, which was most certainly the scandal to which his father was referring. He had been trying to get to know some foreigners who were wandering the city and exploring the culture.
But for Mattia, it was the only way that he could find new work. His previous contacts from abroad had had their commissions finished and delivered.
Having completed portraits for a few grand men while they were in Rome, he could paint their friends only if those friends actually managed to come to see him.
The Count would never approve of him going to London on his own. So, Mattia had no other choice.
Of course, if he simply could not find any new clients, then Mattia would have to follow through with the promise that he had made to his mother a year ago.
He would give up his art and pursue business or anything else his father wished of him. No matter the pain of giving up his dreams, he would have no other choice.
A promise made to his ailing mother was the only promise that Mattia would ever truly hold to. He loved her and he did not know how much longer she would be able to survive with everything that had seemed to affect her health.
Yes, if he did not make the connections he needed by the end of the month, he would move on. He would fulfill the promise he had made to her.
And then he might even manage to make his father proud, hard as this was to imagine.
“Forgive me, Father. It was not my intention to shame you. You must know that. It is just that I love the beauty of art more than I can express, and you know that as well,” Mattia said passionately.
He was accustomed to these talks with his father and not ever really knowing how to proceed in them. No matter what he said, the Count was not appeased.
“And you must know that I am also not a man who wished to give his life to business, but I’ve had little choice,” the Count said sternly.
“This is the path we must follow to become the men we were born to be. Siga and its prosperity is our legacy. Family comes before dreams. Don’t you want to make your family proud?” the Count asked.
“Of course I do, but I don’t see why art cannot make my family proud,” Mattia insisted.
“This is Siga. A place built on art. Why should it be shameful for me to become an artist?” Mattia asked, making sure to use their own language while he spoke to his father about their heritage.
“Because it is not the time for it. You are Mattia Cancio, Nobile dei Conti di Siga. Count Mattia, my only son, the man who will one day become the head of our House and the leader of Siga.”
His father straightened his back proudly. “A Count does not have the luxury of indulging in art and romance and passion. You know better than that. You have a position ahead of you. A legacy.”
Mattia did know better. But no matter how much better he knew, it did not change his longing to paint. It did not change the way it made him feel. Nothing could ever change that
.
“You know it is not that we don’t love your art,” the Count added, clearly feeling as though he had wounded his son. “But you can only see it as a bit of fun. It is not a life. It is only… a sort of entertainment.”
“Yes, I understand,” Mattia replied disappointed.
“Now, do me a favor and bring your family a bit of pride by leaving this art nonsense behind us all,” his father urged. “Just let it be a bit of joy that you allow yourself when you have time. But for the sake of your family, stop dreaming of other things.”
