by Lora Thomas
“Look, Mae. He tried to refuse. I just wouldn’t let him.”
“You forced yourself upon him?”
“That didn’t come out right,” Madelena mumbled. “I was slightly tipsy, and it was Carnival. Things just happened. He was kind and gentle to me. Even when Papa searched his room, he hid me—”
“Hold everything! Start from the beginning. You were in the room while your father searched for you, and he didn’t even find you?”
“Yes.” Madelena went on to tell Mae what happened and how she got home. “So you see, if you say something, then you involve the Henshaws, and Signora Henshaw is now expecting which will only cause her undue hardship. Just keep this a secret and know that Oliver did not do anything that I did not want him to do. He behaved like a gentleman until I behaved like a…like a…like a…”
“Whore,” Mae filled in.
“Well, you don’t have to be crude.”
“Tart. Strumpet. Harlot. Are any of those better?”
“No.” Madelena lowered her head.
Guilt entered Mae. “Fine. I will not say anything. Who would I tell? You are my dearest friend, and if I did, then your father would not allow me to see you before you have to leave.”
Madelena wrapped her arms around Mae. “Thank you.”
Mae returned the embrace. Pulling away from her friend, she plucked sawdust from Madelena’s hair. “Just know that this still does not change my opinion of Signore St. John. He is still a scoundrel.”
“Rogue,” Madelena corrected. “And remember, if it were not for him, then you would not have had your alone time with Stephano.”
“True.”
Madelena smiled, and Mae returned the gesture.
“I take it that it is safe to return?” Stephano asked.
“Yes,” Mae answered. As the men approached, she spoke again, “Madelena told me what happened. While I do not approve, I promise not to tell anyone.” Mae’s eyes widened, and her hands came to her mouth. “Oh, no! I just told Stephano.”
“Told me what?” Stephano asked.
“Nothing,” Mae said, her eyes as innocently wide as she could make them.
Stephano’s brow rose. “Very well, I think. Shall we venture back into the house before suspicion arises over our long absence?”
“Yes. Good evening, Signore St. John,” Mae said. “Come, Madelena.”
Madelena began following the couple. Glancing over her shoulder, she smiled at Oliver. He gave her a teasing wink. She stifled her giggle and turned, walking away.
Entering the ballroom, the group made their way back to Maude.
“How were the gardens?” Maude asked.
“Lovely,” Mae replied.
Maude looked at Madelena for verification.
“Lovely,” Madelena mimicked.
“No issues? You were gone for quite a while.”
Mae shook her head. “No. None. No issues whatsoever. Everything went splendidly. How was your alone time? How is your day? I’m starving. Are there any hors d'oeuvres?”
Maude turned her attention to Stephano. “What did you do?”
Stephano’s eyes widened. “Nothing.”
“Then why is she acting like she is trying to hide something?” Maude crossed her arms over her chest.
Stephano shook his head. “Honestly, Signora Valenti. Nothing happened.”
“I do not believe you.”
“It's my fault,” Madelena interjected.
“Your fault?”
“Yes. I am angry with my parents and wanted to avoid them.”
Maude raised her chin. “Ah. Is it because Signore Drakos is with them?”
“Yes.”
“What?” Mae asked, turning to Madelena. “You didn’t say he was here.”
“I didn’t want to bother you with my troubles. You seemed so happy.”
“Oh, Madelena!” Mae exclaimed, wrapping her arms around her friend. “I am here for you. That’s what friends are for.”
“Thank you,” Madelena said. She glanced around the ballroom. “I had better return to my parents. I do not want you to get into trouble because of me.” Madelena gave a curtsey and left. Rounding a corner, a startled gasp left her when she felt a hand grab her forearm.
Chapter Nineteen
“Where have you been?” Sandra asked, suspicion in her voice.
Madelena could feel her heart race and a flush creeping up her cheeks. “To get you some wine.” Sandra’s skeptical look caused Madelena to continue, “But I drank it. I decided if I was to meet Drakos, then I wanted to be drunk.”
“That was almost an hour ago,” Sandra spat.
“I drank it. Then drank another. In fact, I swilled down an entire bottle.”
“Don’t lie to me, girl!”
At the suspicious glance Sandra received from a guest, she hissed to Madelena, “Follow me and do not dare protest, girl.”
Sandra turned. Madelena closed her eyes and groaned. What now? She fell in line behind Sandra and followed her “mother” to the back of the home, to Nichole’s private study. Madelena entered and approached the center of the room. The room was decorated tackily with gaudy orange curtains and a bright yellow settee so large you could hide a mule behind it. The sound of the door softly closing caused Madelena to turn and face the woman who had tormented her for her entire life.
Sandra raised her chin with condescension. “I know you went for a walk. When you didn’t return, I went looking for you and spotted you from the balcony.” A vindictive sneer came to Sandra. “I saw you and St. John.”
Madelena’s lips slightly parted.
“You think I am so stupid that I do not know that there is something going on between the two of you? I know for a fact that you were with him that evening you did not return.”
“That’s a lie.” Madelena had to keep Oliver safe from her parents’ wrath.
“No. I have connections. Household connections in many of the prominent families in Rome. What do you think your father will do when he learns that you were acting like a harlot with Signore St. John? I tell you what he will do. He will harm that boy.”
Madelena stared at her mother. Her heart hammered as her mouth went dry. Chest heaving with anger, she asked, “What do you want?”
“I will keep your Jezebel ways hidden. You will entertain Signore Drakos, without complaint. You will engage in the purity check, speak nothing of your whorish ways during the transactions, and help deceive the midwife.”
“Why should I do these things? You can still tell Father.”
“True. But if you pass, then Drakos will marry you. Once married, you can find a way into fooling him into believing you are still a virgin. He will then cart you away to Greece where you will be out of my face once and for all. You will do all this without complaint. Once, you are wed, you will convince that boy to marry Angela. I do not relish the idea of her marrying your snippets, but he is wealthy enough to make me forget that you have lain with him. Otherwise, I will make certain that that boy does not leave Rome in one piece. Do we have an agreement?”
Madelena glowered at her mother. She had always disliked Sandra, but now she hated her. The loathing that entered her was a new sensation. Her fists coiled at her sides, and her cheeks turned red with anger.
“Do we have an agreement, Madelena? Or do I need to speak to your father? You know he will not think twice about creating a scene in public. He thrives on it.”
“Where did you get this so-called proof? Father is aware of our hatred for each other, and you cannot use the bribe of you remaining silent over who my mother truly is any longer. I know you are not my mother. I know my father loved my real mother more than he ever loved you.”
Sandra drew back her hand and sent a brutal slap to Madelena’s cheek.
Madelena gasped and placed her hand to her stinging cheek.
“Never mention that whore in my presence. Never remind me of your father’s betrayal. I hate her. I hate him. And I hate you.”
Tears welled in Madelena’s eyes. Blinking several times, she willed away the moisture from the pain.
“So you have no proof,” Madelena stated.
A maniacal laugh left Sandra. “I have proof. One of Signora Henshaw's housemaids was the housemaid for your whore of a mother. She knows that I did not give birth to twins. She knows I did not give birth to you. Your father paid her well for her silence and shipped her away. But I found her, brought her back and hid her.”
“Why would she return? Father has a reputation—”
“Because I pay her better than your father. And her reward for the information about you was well worth every cent.”
Madelena’s mouth parted as the images of the Henshaws’ household staff ran through her mind. There was the one whom she borrowed the dress from. The one who brought her the morning meal. The one who escorted her away from the home. Madelena’s eyes grew wide. The one who escorted her from the Henshaws’.
“Geneva’s maid, Izabella,” Madelena whispered in horror.
“Exactly. She is a valuable resource who will gladly tell Antonio where you were that night. It will not be a lie either. You know this. Now, you agree to my terms or would you like your father to kill that boy tonight?”
This could not be happening! Why? Madelena wanted to scream. She wanted to take the figurine on the end table and bash it over Sandra’s head. She wanted to tell the hateful bitch before her to go to hell. Instead, she closed her eyes and nodded.
“Fine.” Madelena dragged the word out.
A triumphant gleam came to Sandra’s cold, brown eyes. “Your fiancé is this way.” She turned. Madelena followed Sandra out the door to her hell.
Angela raised up from behind the ugly yellow settee, her eyes wide as saucers and her mouth agape. She had come to Signora Cancio’s private study to rehearse what she wanted to say to Oliver when he danced with her. It had to be witty and charming. Instead, she had overheard a deep family secret. A secret buried so deep that it was inconceivable. Madelena was not her twin! Madelena was a bastard. Madelena had sex with Oliver St. John!
Angela did not like the idea of Madelena having Oliver in that fashion. It was not fair. Madelena always had men fawning over her, and now Oliver St. John was added to the list.
The corner of her lips pulled upward. Yet, Madelena was to marry Drakos and move to Greece. Angela just had to bide her time. If her mother’s plan came to fruition, Oliver would be asking for her hand before he left Rome, and she would be sailing away from Italy as Angela St. John. She exited the study and made her way to the ballroom. Now, she just had to find her future husband.
Oliver entered the ballroom with a bounce to his step and a smile that would not go away. He knew Madelena was the cause. She was the reason he found Rome delightful. After she left the gardens, he waited around before returning. He did not want suspicion to be drawn to his entrance so soon after hers.
The instant he stepped into the home, his eyes were drawn to Madelena. She looked…unhappy. She was speaking to her parents and another man. The stranger was the same height as Madelena and on the obese side. The portly man rubbed his belly, laughed and reached for Madelena, pulling her to him. Oliver became angry. His anger heightened when he saw the man place his lips upon Madelena’s, and she did not protest!
The smile melted from Oliver’s face. He grabbed a man passing. Hostility was in his voice as he asked, “Who is that man speaking with the Russos?”
“Miles Drakos from Greece. Madelena Russo’s fiancé. Why?”
Oliver released the man and shook his head. Betrayal hit him as pain tore through his chest. He knew Madelena was engaged but for her to slip away with him and for them to have sex while her intended was present? It was unheard of! He did not answer the man’s question. Spotting Angela, he crossed the room to her. The young man who was speaking to her, protested when Oliver stepped between them and whisked Angela onto the ballroom floor.
“Signore, St. John,” Angela pretended to protest. “Signore Demetri had already scheduled this dance on my card.”
“Then he should have protested more,” Oliver said, twirling Angela around the room.
Angela batted her lashes coyly. The timing for this dance could not have been planned better. Here she was looking for Oliver, and he found her. “I do say, you did warn me. About taking what you want when you want, that is.”
“So, I did.”
“Do you take what you want frequently?” She fluttered her lashes. “Without asking?”
Her flirtations were annoying. Sickening. He had no desire to listen to her babble in an attempt to appear tempting. The only reason he grabbed Angela to dance was that he was angry at Madelena. He wanted Madelena as angry at him as he was presently at her. And what a better knife to use to get even…the sibling she despises?
As they twirled around the room, Madelena and Drakos appeared. A malicious chuckle left Angela.
“What is so humorous?” Oliver asked.
“Oh, you haven’t heard?”
“What?”
“Madelena and her intended are to make their debut this evening. It serves her right. Papa always dotes on Madelena. She could do no wrong in his eyes.”
“I see.”
“No, you don’t. Well, I hate to gossip, but the other night she did not return home. She spent the entire evening with some strange man and did not return until well after noon. Mama said that Madelena needs a strong hand to keep her in line. They arranged a marriage for her with the man she is with, Miles Drakos.” Time to plant a seed of betrayal in Oliver. If he thought Madelena was a tart, then he would not think twice about her again. She had to come up with something, someone, Madelena had been with. Perhaps multiple men? “What neither Mama nor Papa know is that one of the men she was out with is here this evening.”
Alarm caused Oliver’s senses to prickle. “And you know this how?”
“I have my sources.” Angela looked around. “She was with one of Signore Cancio’s servants. I am trying to figure out which one. I suspect it is the one by the punch bowl. He seems like Madelena’s type. Plain and boring. And he was just the first. From what I gathered, she had visited many men that night, ending the night with Signore Cancio’s hired help.”
“It is highly inappropriate to gossip about others, especially a sibling.”
Angela shrugged. “It is. But I wanted to warn you away from her. I saw how vulgar her flirtations with you were the other evening at my home, and I fear she has her sights set for you to be her next fling. She makes men fall in love with her and then breaks their hearts for sport. It is just how she is. How she has always been. But then again what would one expect from her kind.”
“Her kind?”
Angela licked her lips. She knew the next confession would sway Oliver her direction. Nobody wanted a bastard in their family. “Yes. She is not truly my sister. She is illegitimate. Momma felt sorry for her. In order for the world to accept Madelena, she told everyone that Madelena was my twin. It is just how we are. Placing others above ourselves.”
Oliver’s jaw worked in anger. Anger at the pain in his chest he felt at seeing Madelena with another man. Anger at the idea that they had been together this evening. And anger at Angela for her gossiping.
“Why, she disappeared just this evening several times to be with some of her men. She had the audacity to do so knowing that Signore Drakos was here. Imagine, her acting like a tart with her fiancé so near. It speaks a lot of her character.”
“So does gossiping about a sister.” Oliver’s words were harsh.
Angela tried to set her eyes in a sympathetic pull, but it did not have the desired effect. Instead, she looked like a bug-eyed fish. “I apologize. It’s just that you are so easy to speak with. I feel like I have known you for my entire life. I feel a connection to you, Signore St. John. Please tell me that it is not a one-sided connection. Do you feel one, too?”
“Signorina Russo—”
“Please call me Angela.”
“Signorina Angela,” Oliver forcefully spoke again. He would not fall into this chit’s trap; however, he was now angry. The sight of Madelena with another man was something that Oliver had not prepared himself for. “I am in Rome for only a short while. Not nearly a sufficient enough time for me to call you by your given name.”
“Perhaps you can be persuaded to say longer.” Angela fluttered her lashes at Oliver, causing him to cringe inwardly.
The dance ended. Oliver gave a polite bow. His eyes drifted around the room again and stopped upon Madelena and Drakos. A lecherous grin was upon the man’s face as he ogled Madelena. Madelena returned his smile. “Thank you for the dance…Angela.”
Angela curtsied and glanced over at her parents. Her mother gave a subtle twitch of her head, indicating that Angela should return with Oliver.
“Would it be too bold for me to call you Oliver?”
Oliver’s gaze was still on Madelena and Drakos. “No.”
“Thank you, Oliver. I enjoyed our dance. But you cannot depart yet. It appears Papa wishes to see you.”
Oliver forced a smile to his lips. “Of course, he does.”
Oliver escorted Angela to her parents.
“Signore St. John,” Russo spoke. “I would like to introduce you to Miles Drakos from Greece. Signore Drakos, this is Oliver St. John. His family owns Emerald Shipping.”
Oliver studied Drakos. The man was disgusting. He was more than obese. Morbid came to mind. What little hair the man possessed was completely white and pulled back in a queue. His flesh was wrinkled and greasy, and his lips were overly large and…wet. The old man reminded Oliver of a fat pig who had been doused in oil.
“Signore St. John, good to meet a man of your family’s caliber.” Each word Drakos spoke ended with him spitting. The man did not offer his hand in greeting. Instead, he licked his already wet lips and took a long drink from his wine.
“Thank you.”
“The polite thing to say would be ‘likewise’,” Drakos replied.
“If it were true, then yes.”
