by Lora Thomas
“But?”
“I didn’t say but.”
Stephano took the ring from Oliver. “You didn’t have to. Is it too much? Not enough?”
“From the brief meeting I had with Signorina Valenti, she seemed like a woman easy to please. She would be thrilled if you gave her a string, so a lovely sapphire will cause her to squeal with delight. Perhaps even swoon.”
“Good.” Stephano placed the ring back into his pocket.
“It is soon for an engagement, don’t you think? I mean, you just met her what? Last week?”
“Almost two weeks now. And I have never been surer of anything in my life. I love Mae. I want Mae to be my wife.”
“Then I wish you all the best of luck and a long, happy marriage.”
“Thank you.” Stephano stood. “Now, would you please come with me to ask her?”
“Why? This is something intimate. Something you should do alone.”
“It is. But her mother is her constant shadow.”
Oliver raised his head with knowing. “Ah, I see. You need me to distract Signora Valenti.”
“Precisely.”
“Is that what you need me for? Distractions? I believe this is twice I’ve had to distract someone for you.”
“But you do it so well.”
Oliver shook his head. “When would you like for this to happen?”
“Now. Her father is still out of town.”
“You haven’t asked for his permission yet?” Oliver asked in alarm.
“No. You see, he doesn’t like me. If I ask for his blessing first, he will refuse. Signora Valenti, on the other hand, adores me. If I ask Mae first, then between the two of them, they can persuade Signore Valenti to accept me.”
“Did you at least discuss it with her mother?”
Stephano nodded. “I did. To a degree. She has the notion that I am interested in seeking further relations with Mae but not to what extent.”
“This could all backfire on you. You realize that, right?”
“I do. That is another reason I want you to come along. You will be a distraction to Maude, and if Mae should refuse, then you are my excuse to leave. Quickly.”
“Very well.”
“Come along. I want to ask her before her father returns this afternoon.”
The pair made their way through the streets of Rome to Mae’s house. Jude granted them entrance, and they waited in the parlor for Mae and her mother. A few moments later, they entered, both with a solemn expression.
“What is the matter?” Stephano asked.
Mae looked at him. “It’s just terrible, isn’t it?”
“What?”
“You didn’t hear? Madelena wed. Just this morning.”
“What?” Oliver asked, his mouth parting with surprise. “Madelena married?”
Mae nodded. “Yes. Suddenly. I wasn’t even invited. The maid told me this morning. It was a small ceremony with only Madelena’s parents and sisters present.”
“I am so sorry,” Stephano said to Mae. “I know how close you and Signorina Russo are. You must be devastated.”
“Not as much as Madelena. She hated that man. We didn’t get to speak much since her confinement, but I knew that much.” Mae looked at Oliver. “I am so sorry, Signore St. John. I know you and Madelena…well, you two were interested in each other.” She was not about to let slip what had transpired between Oliver and Madelena. If she did, then it would put everyone in a predicament that would not be suitable.
“It is for the best,” Maude intervened. “Signore St. John is a fine man. He and Signore Russo would not have gotten along. Besides, I hear that Signora Russo thinks he fancies Angela.”
Oliver shook his head. “I have no interest in Signorina Angela.”
“Really? Signora Russo has been telling everyone that you are near to the point of asking Angela for her hand.”
Oliver clenched his jaw. “Is she?”
“Yes. And I must say, the tongues were wagging about the two of you the day after the Cancios’ ball. You did dance frequently with her.”
“I haven’t clapped eyes on the chit since that blasted ball.”
“That’s not what Signora Russo is claiming. She says you have visited daily since the ball.”
“Then I guess it is a good thing that I am leaving tomorrow.”
“You’re leaving?” Mae asked. “I hate to hear that. Momma was having a dinner party next week, and I hoped that you could attend.”
“I would, but I am needed at home.”
Stephano cleared his throat and stared at Oliver.
“Signora Valenti,” Oliver said. “I hear that you have a lovely garden.”
“It is the best in all of Rome,” Maude bragged, pulling her shoulders back with pride.
“I would love to see it.”
“But it’s March. The leaves are still missing.”
“What of those in your greenhouse?” Stephano said in his need to get rid of Maude for a moment.
Pride beamed in Maude’s eyes. “My lilies are doing fabulously there.”
“I would love to see them,” Oliver said.
“This way then.” Maude motioned to the door. “Come along, Mae. Signore Mortilini.”
Oliver offered Maude his arm and dragged her out the door before she could see that the others were not following.
Oliver listened with little interest as Maude bragged about her prized lilies. His mind kept returning to Madelena’s marriage. It felt like a ship had just settled on his chest. A tightness formed around his heart to the point he wondered if it were still beating.
“Where are Mae and Stephano?” Maude asked as she stopped at the greenhouse door.
Oliver looked around pretending to search for them. “I do not know. Perhaps they are still in the house.”
A frown settled over Maude’s brow. “I will not have them alone.”
“They’re fine,” Oliver said, trying to delay Maude’s return.
“What are you trying to hide, Signore St. John?”
A scream of delight came from the house. Maude and Oliver both looked at the doorway and watched as Mae came racing to them.
“Momma!” Mae exclaimed, holding her hand outward. “I’m getting married!”
Stephano was right behind her.
Mae stopped before her mother, holding her left hand out. The sapphire stone of the ring captured the light causing it to sparkle. “Stephano and I are getting married!”
Pride lit up Maude’s eyes as she wrapped her arms around Mae. “I am so happy for you.” She reached outward with her right arm and motioned for Stephano to join them. He stepped forward and the trio embraced. “I am the happiest mother in Rome. You treat my baby well, Signore Mortilini.”
“She will be treated like a queen, Signora Valenti.”
“Call me Mother. After all, we are to be family.” Maude’s eyes widened. “Her father agreed?”
Stephano shook his head. “I haven’t asked for his blessing yet. I was hoping that you could persuade Jacopo in my favor.”
“Please, Momma,” Mae begged, clasping her hands together.
“I will see what I can do,” Maude said. “Now, we have a busy time before us. When is the date? We have to purchase a dress and make a guest list. Oh! And the food!” Maude locked arms with Mae and Stephano dragging them to the house as she chattered on about what was needed for their upcoming nuptials.
Oliver followed inside and then bid the planning trio a good day. He was not needed now. Oliver was happy for his new friend. At least Stephano got the woman he loved. He was leaving Rome a married man. And Oliver would be leaving Rome as a broken one.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Madelena sighed again and paced the room. She looked down at her wedding night attire. The thin white shift she wore was sleeveless and felt like it was made from burlap instead of cotton. Then again, Sandra had purchased it as a gift for Madelena, and Sandra never bought Madelena anything of quality.
The clo
ck on the mantel chimed nine. Madelena had been married for twelve hours, and it already felt like a lifetime. The wedding ceremony was short and simple, with only her family present. She wanted it that way. She did not want her only friend to witness her death sentence. Mae would be disappointed, but at least she would not get to see the worst wedding ever held.
Madelena wiped her mouth with the back of her hand again. She could still feel Drakos’s wet floppy lips on hers. She hated that man. Hated everything he represented. Hated that she had to marry him. Hated that she had to live with him. Hated that she was going to have to lay with him. But it was all to keep Oliver safe.
The thought of Oliver caused a tightness to settle in her chest. He would be safe and she would be miserable. Is this what it felt like? To love someone and know they were forever out of your reach? She loved Oliver. She believed she always had. The notion came to her after their time together at the Cancios as she was walking back to the house. The betrayal she saw in his eyes upon meeting Drakos tore at her soul. She felt like a part of her was dying; the pain was too great to bear.
Looking around the room, a shudder ran down her spine. This was the home that Drakos had rented for his short stay in Rome. It was old and in need of repair. The floors creaked and moaned with each step. The windows screamed in protest when opened. Hell, even the shingles rattled with the least bit of breeze. It was a home of horrors. Fitting.
The door opened and creaked upon its hinges. Madelena did not turn. She already knew who it was. She could smell him as he was coming down the hall. It was a scent of stale whiskey and liniment.
The door closed, and the floor protested as Drakos approached her. He took hold of her shoulder and turned her to face him. A lecherous grin pulled his wrinkled features as he licked his fat lips again.
“Well,” he spoke.
“Well, what?” Madelena asked.
A chortle left the old man. “I like a bit of sass. Not too much. Take off that shift, girl. I’ve noticed your firm tits all night and want to see if what I paid for was worth the price.”
“Paid for? I believe you are the one who received my dowry.”
He waved away the statement. “Go on now.”
Madelena’s hands trembled as they took hold of the thin straps of the shift. She closed her eyes. A silent tear ran down her cheek. Her hand was frozen in place. No matter how much she willed herself, she could not do it. She could not take off her clothing and face this man before her.
“I can’t,” Madelena whispered.
Drakos drew his mouth tight, causing his lips to pucker and his large nose to move. “I want to see you. Now.”
Madelena backed away and shook her head. “No.”
“You ungrateful little bitch. Your mother warned me that you were a bit strong-willed. She never said you were defiant, too. That doesn’t matter none. I know how to handle defiant fillies.” He turned and approached the dresser. Removing a belt, he turned. “You must whip them into submission. You must remind them who is in charge.”
“Wait!” Madelena spoke, shaking her head. “Please. I am just nervous.”
Drakos looked at her with suspicion.
“Please. Sit on the bed. Give me a moment.”
“I don’t have all night.”
Drakos approached the bed and sat down, lying the belt across his lap as a reminder should she defy him.
Madelena turned her back to him.
“Face me,” he ordered.
Swallowing down the lump in her throat, she turned to face the man she loathed. Closing her eyes, she slid one side of the shift down, exposing her left breast. Drakos’s lecherous grin widened; however, his normally dark complexion had turned an odd gray color. Taking a deep breath, she put his appearance out of her mind and dropped the other side down. His lustful stare seared her skin. He stood, unmoving. She could see his erection through his clothing. He took a step. Then another. His lascivious grin faded. He looked at her, clutched his chest and fell. His mouth worked up and down as he reached outward for her assistance.
“Girl. Help me,” he managed to say in a strained voice.
Madelena stayed rooted to the spot. She had no desire to help him. She watched as he struggled to breathe. Several ragged gasps left him before he went limp. His hand fell from his chest and slid to the floor in a soft thump.
Pulling her shift back into place, she took a step and gazed down at her husband. He was staring blankly up at the ceiling. There was an odd grayness to his complexion, almost blue in color.
“Signore Drakos,” she softly spoke. When he did not answer, she repeated his name again and gently nudged him with her foot. He did not move. Kneeling down beside him, she pressed her ear to his chest and listened. He was not breathing, and his heartbeat was undetectable. Leaning back onto her knees, a joyous smile pulled her lips, and she laughed. Drakos was dead! The bastard dropped dead before he could consummate the marriage.
“He’s dead,” she whispered in mortification, her hand coming to her mouth. “This will not be good. Mother will blame me.” She scurried to her feet. Her mother would blame her. Sandra would claim that Madelena poisoned Drakos. Madelena had no alibi to prove differently. She would be sentenced to death and would hang simply because Drakos coincidently died upon his wedding day. Sandra would make certain evidence was planted that would point to Madelena’s guilt. She could not stay here. She had to leave Rome. Now!
Racing to the wardrobe, she pulled out her plain brown dress and pulled it over her head. Finding a reticule, she shoved a few garments inside and closed the bag. She approached the dresser, where her underthings were stored. Removing the bottom drawer completely, she slid her hand inside the opening. Before she left home, she had made certain that she would have extra funds if needed and brought the money that she had made from selling her baskets. It wasn’t much, but surely she could purchase passage upon a ship leaving Rome with the amount she had.
Standing, she approached the door but stopped. If the servants saw her leave, they would come to inspect the room. She had to depart unseen. She had to give herself enough time to book passage upon a ship and leave Rome before Drakos’s body was discovered.
She approached the door and turned the lock, making certain that it was firmly secure before turning to the balcony. They were on the second floor, and by the grace of God, there was a set of steps leading down. She raced down the steps and cringed from the sound of the creaking steps. The noise was going to awake the servants. She slowed her pace, fighting the desire to bolt. With each step, the stairs creaked louder to the point she might as well shout that she was leaving. Once her foot was upon the ground, she glanced up at the landing fully expecting to see a servant. When she saw no one was there, she lifted her skirts and raced down the street away from Drakos’s home.
Weaving her way through the city, her heart raced. Rome was quiet now. All the people who came for Carnival had departed. She would have felt better if the streets were crowded. Now, she felt vulnerable. She felt as if she were in danger. Clutching her reticle to her chest, she wished she had thought to bring a weapon. After several turns to avoid drunken men, she finally made it to the docks. All of the ticket stations were closed for the night. Great! Now what? Where was she to go? She could not go to Mae’s for assistance. Mae would help her, but she did not want her friend to suffer Sandra’s wrath. She made her way around a building and tried the door. Locked.
“Damn,” she mumbled.
She tried several more businesses until she finally found an open door. Slipping inside, she locked the door and sat down upon the floor. Now, to wait until morning.
Madelena tried to stay awake all night but to no avail. She had not slept the night before, and the trials of her wedding day had finally taken its toll. She drifted off into a restless sleep. The sound of muffled voices woke her. Her eyes flew open, and she sat up. The sun had not yet risen, but the room was lightening.
Her valise had made an excellent place to rest her head when
she first laid down, but the article had caused a crick to settle in her neck. Rising to a sitting position, she rubbed the pain and pulled the reticle to her. Turning, she came to her knees and peered out the window. A few sailors were present as were porters and passengers making their way to their respective ships.
Smoothing down her hair, she worked the locks into a plait and then twisted it into a tight bun at the nape of her neck. Digging through her reticle, she located a scarf and wrapped it around her head. Gathering her satchel, she stood and exited the building. She kept her pace slow and steady. She need not look like she was in a rush for that would draw attention to her.
The sun had completely risen by the time she found an open ticket station. Entering the building, she stood in line behind the three other people present. After a few minutes, it was finally her turn.
“Where to?” the man behind the counter asked.
Madelena pulled out her money and placed it upon the counter. “Where can this get me?”
The man peered over his wire spectacles and counted the money. He flipped open a register and ran his fingers over the book.
“For the amount you have, I have a few tickets left for Imperia, Italy; one to Marseille, in France and another to Monaco.”
Sadness pulled at Madelena’s eyes. “Is there anywhere farther?”
“I am sorry, signorina. That is all you can afford.”
Madelena looked at her dismal funds. “I’ll take the one to France. The farthest distance.”
“Marseille.” The porter counted out the funds and gave Madelena what was remaining. Handing her the ticket, he said, “Have a pleasant journey, signorina. Your ship departs in two hours. Next!”
Madelena took her ticket and read the ship’s name. “Destiny.”
“I truly hope it is a pleasant destiny,” she mumbled.
She made her way down the pier. She had never ventured down the wooden structures to where the ships were actually docked. The wharf was like a maze. She weaved down another pier hoping that perhaps this was the correct one. Nearly an hour had passed since she’d purchased her ticket, and she had yet to locate her ship. She would not ask a porter for fear of being recognized. She went to step on another section and stopped in her tracks. Marco was there speaking to someone by a ship. The tall man was intimidating with black hair and a matching beard. They appeared to be in a heated argument. Marco angrily pointed at the boat, and the captain took a step towards Marco. Marco tossed his hands in the air and began walking in her direction.
