A honk from a boat’s horn shattered Juliette’s recollection, and she reached for Giselle’s hand. “Darling, tell me about your newest sculpture.”
As always, the subject of art turned Giselle’s natural wattage up, and she enthused, “Oh, I hope you’ll like it. It’s a cage with a person inside, and the person swivels and travels in a circle within the cage.”
“It sounds disturbing.” Juliette didn’t want to be critical, but she had to be honest. “One doesn’t like to see a caged animal…but a person?” She was careful not to grimace.
“If I can make the body move the way I’m envisioning, it’ll be unforgettable.”
“The last sculpture you dreamed up came from God, a vision He also shared with the Holy Father, so I won’t discount your visions.”
Giselle shrugged and smoothed the windblown hair from her face. “At least with this piece, there’s little chance of my artistic vision sidelining me to work with a bunch of architects.”
“Sì, that was certainly unexpected with Star Fall, was it not? But I have heard comments from members of Verdu Mer’s Consortium that you could have a great career in home design—especially now that the model home is almost complete. City planners from around the world will want your services.”
“I can’t imagine doing this type of work again. It’s a nice job and all, but not fulfilling.”
“Speaking of fulfilling, have you thought about how your life will change after you get pregnant? No climbing around sculptures for a while.”
Giselle hesitated and grabbed the side of the boat as it rocked on an oversized swell. “I’m not counting my chickens before they’ve hatched.”
As the boat slowed on the approach to the pier, it was impossible to miss the newsstand with the madman’s photos and irresponsible headlines. Juliette said, “Come, let us see about getting one chick into your basket, shall we?”
Inside the serene atmosphere of the nutrition spa, Juliette began to feel more relaxed. At the reception desk, a smartly dressed woman wearing a crisp white lab coat over a deep-green dress looked up from her computer screen and exclaimed, “Ah, Contessa e Contessa! Welcome to my salon. I’m Beatrice. What an honor this is.”
Juliette said, “Please call us Juliette and Giselle.”
Beatrice came around the counter and performed an unnecessary but elegant curtsey before them. “My staff is at your disposal. And while you’re here, I would be remiss if I didn’t offer you our entire regimen of vitamin and herbal therapies. Giselle, you, in particular, can benefit from the liberation and stimulation of our vitamin-packed herbal colonic irrigation.”
“Have you had much success with that?” Juliette wanted to try anything that could benefit Giselle’s fertility, without breaking the Church’s rules against medical intervention.
“Oh, sì,” Beatrice assured her. Then she turned to Giselle. “Do you have any questions?”
“I don’t think so. If you think any of these therapies will be good for me, I’m game.”
While Beatrice went behind the desk and made some notes Juliette leaned over, kissed her cheek, and whispered, “I know how hard it has been for you to get pregnant. Trying for five years and still such a good attitude. I feel certain this will work.” Turning to Beatrice she said, “Sì, if all the therapies can be tailored for fertility she will take them. I would like anything you recommend for energy and longevity. I need to be fit and vigorous for my grandchildren.” She smiled at the thought.
Beatrice looked thrilled. “Oh, may I share with you that I’m sixty, and that curtsey isn’t all I can do with ease.”
“You certainly are nimble.” Giselle seemed captivated by the woman who looked to be around Juliette’s age of forty-three.
“’Supple’ is the way I describe myself. And what vitamins have done for my sex life…why I just can’t say.”
Giselle blinked and, after a beat, she began to grin. “Wow, Beatrice! And you’re planning to give those vitamins to Juliette?”
Social etiquette prevented Juliette from saying anything beyond, “Supple is good. Sì, I would like to improve my…suppleness.”
Just then a loud voice with a British accent shrilled, “Is that Contessa Verona?”
Juliette turned, but her usually excellent recall failed her. She was unable to place the woman standing before her, dressed head to toe in Burberry’s waterproof collection, including hat and umbrella.
The woman’s lips disappeared as she pressed them together, and her eyes widened in expectation. Then she said pointedly, “We met at the Duke of York’s gala this spring.”
Still unable to place her, Juliette smiled and waited for her to introduce herself. It was the only polite thing to do.
“Disgusting weather you have over here. Truly it mustn’t be borne.” She fumbled with the buttons of her raincoat, not an easy task with gloves on. “I’m sure you’re searching for my title.” She extended her neck until her chin jutted, and she was looking down her nose at Juliette. “The Honorable Lady Waterford,” she said finally, with a distinct air of irritation.
Juliette was surprised at the woman flaunting her title in the company of another woman of title—and a superior one at that. She looked at Giselle, who was clearly amused by the scene, and presented the woman of lower title as dictated by royal protocol. “E Contessa, posso presentare Lady Waterford.”
The woman ignored Giselle and failed to introduce the young lady standing behind her. Instead, she chortled, “According to the news you have cause for celebration. Finally safe to walk the streets, er, well, float the canals, as it were, now that Scortini bobbed up in the drink, what?”
Juliette suppressed the urge to correct the beige-checkered loudmouth. “If you will excuse us, Lady Waterford, I believe Beatrice has our rooms waiting.”
“Oh, that can’t be the case. We were here before you.” She went back to fussing with her buttons.
This could hardly be the truth since it would have been impossible for Juliette to miss an entire person wrapped in plaid when she’d walked in.
Beatrice said, “Contessa?” and turned to Giselle, “e Contessa? Your technicians await. If you would care to follow me?”
As they walked away, they heard the woman grouse to her companion, “Have you ever seen such dreadful toadying by a proprietor? She’s a contessa, not the queen. And shouldn’t that French trollop her son married be off somewhere making art that explodes angry bees at people or something? The London museums did well to ban her sculptures last spring.”
The companion said, “You weren’t invited to the Duke of York’s gala.”
“Oh, do shut up, Pfryonie, really,” was the irritated response.
During Vincenzo’s long phone conversation with Cardinal Arguelles, he hadn’t come right out and confessed his homosexuality to the cardinal, but as he’d inched closer to saying it outright, Arguelles had pledged assistance on matters of procreation reform and sexuality.
“Guido, I’ll visit you soon to lay out my plan in person.”
“I look forward to it. You and I—together with progressive cardinals—can forge a new future in the Church’s understanding of sexuality and procreation.”
After Vincenzo clicked off the call, he group-texted Leonardo, Giselle, Markus, Ivar, and Leonardo:
MEET ME AT THE APARTMENT RIGHT AWAY!
Fifteen minutes later, they’d gathered around the table, and Vincenzo held up a bottle of prosecco. “I believe an annulment is within our grasp!”
“Boh!” Markus leaned back in his chair. “About time!”
Giselle made a little hiccupping sound and then laughed as tears of joy spilled down her cheeks. “Oh! Finally!” She choked back a sob and put her hand to her heart steadying herself. “I couldn’t take much more of this lying. I was breaking under the pressure.” She let out another laughing sob. “Merci, mon cher!” She stumbled over and hugged him so hard she nearly sent the bottle flying out of his grasp.
“I’m true to my word. I’v
e really found a way.” He felt proud, heck, he felt strong.
Ivar took the bottle from him and poured everyone a drink as Leonardo dropped a sugar cube into each glass.
“A toast!” Vincenzo lifted his drink. “To the freedom to love anyone you choose! Cin cin!”
“Cin cin!” They all clinked glasses.
“Tell us what has happened,” Yvania said.
“I’ve joined Cardinal Arguelles, who’s supported by a powerful group of cardinals. They’re going to push for reform on sexuality and procreation. I’ll meet with him tomorrow and come clean about my inclination, so when I reveal my nature to Papa and my parents, I’ll already have the support of some of the Church’s most powerful men.”
Ivar said, “You stand a better chance of staying at the Pope’s side if you’ve lined up acceptance of homosexuality within the College of Cardinals.”
“Precisely!” He turned to Giselle. “So, what are you going wear on your real wedding day?”
She leaned into Markus, who folded her in his arms and kissed her so deeply, Yvania started making a chirping sound that must be some Eastern European expression of celebration. Ivar took a stalk of flowers out of the table’s arrangement and held it aloft over their heads as Markus dipped Giselle back in a dramatic embrace. Somehow she managed not to spill her wine.
When they stood back up and Markus released her, she was practically swooning. She leaned happily against him. “Ah! Now, let me see, what was the question? What I’ll wear?”
She moved to the table and sat down, so they all joined her. “Of course, we’ll be married in Gernelle.”
Markus nodded. “Over a weekend so we have time to enjoy the festivities, both French and Ukrainian.”
“Absolutely!” She said. “We want to spend time with our friends. Don’t you hate weddings where you get maybe five minutes with the bride or groom and the rest of the time you’re stuck sitting with people you don’t know or don’t like?”
Yvania nodded. “Da, sitting at the table with the relatives no one likes. No goot.”
Giselle pulled up a picture on her phone and handed it around the table.
“You’ll look fantastic in it!” Leonardo was impressed. “Who designed that?
“It’s a Ukrainian bridal headpiece. The Czerneys know a woman who can make it for me.”
Vincenzo admired the elaborate crown of flowers and embroidered ribbons. It would circle above her head like a crown and come down on either side of her face, framing it with more ribbons and braids.
Yvania clapped her hands excitedly. “It is most special wedding crown made for royalty!” She started to get choked up and then caught herself, took another sip of her prosecco, and finished, “Our gift to the happy couple.”
Giselle got up and moved to sit on Markus’ lap. “Fauve will be my maid of honor again. Carolette, Solange, Laetitia, and Selma will have another turn at being my bridesmaids. And just like last time, Veronique will give me away. But this time, maybe you’ll be a groomsman, V.”
“I’m not walking down the aisle again with Carolette,” Leonardo spoke up.
“One of Laetitia’s brothers should have that honor.” Vincenzo laughed.
“Good, she can grope Robert or Auguste.” Leo shielded his crotch with his hands.
Vincenzo felt carefree as they laughed and made plans. Markus looked at him with warmth and acceptance. Finally doing right by them felt indescribably good.
Alphonso had enjoyed dining with Zelph at his aunt and uncle’s apartment, but missed Raphielli, so he called her.
“Are you still at the Mayor’s house?”
“No, I just got home.”
“Can I stop by and hear about your night?”
“Come on over.”
After Dante took his umbrella and coat, Alphonso walked down the corridor and had to reverse himself because he’d initially headed to her old room out of habit from the weeks he’d visited her bedside. It felt like a new beginning as he approached her suite on the east side of the palace. The door to Raphielli’s room opened and Rosa came out, startling when she saw him. “Signore, she is expecting you.”
She left the door open, and walked past him down a hall. Raphielli was sitting on one of the white sofas, bundled in a new, white robe. Her hair was down, and the fireplace roared nearby. Through the windows, the glittering city and full moon were at her back. Both the woman and the view beyond her were breathtaking. As he approached, she smiled. He’d never been in Raphielli’s bedroom at night, and he felt desire for her building. He went over and sat next to her, a little closer than he would normally, and she didn’t object.
“Do you think you’ll be able to sleep with all the lights outside and the moon so bright?”
“I’ll shut them out.” She picked up a remote next to her. “Domina installed screens that darken the room in stages. This remote also calls for Rosa.”
“She thought of everything. I just wanted to see how your day went, how you were doing.”
“I had another good day. Mayor Buonocore and Elene are so much fun.”
“Did you make the trip to the mayor’s house by yourself?”
“Cardinal Negrali took me over and stayed for dinner. Although, he seemed preoccupied all evening. On the way home, he lectured me about the importance of staying true to the Church’s original doctrine. He’s going to be in Rome for a few days, apparently repressing some group of progressives gone awry.”
“Doesn’t sound like the happy-go-lucky cardinal you usually describe,” he kidded.
“Oh! You!” She giggled. “So, all in all, a good day.”
“Us too. We didn’t get those big doors open, but Zelph replaced broken locks on a few exterior doors and installed a lock on the door in Salvio’s secret passage.”
“You two have been busy. The shelter was busy, too. Tomorrow a paralegal is coming to work on the women’s cases and child custody paperwork. It breaks my heart that these women fought to get away from their abusers, but may lose their children.”
“I can’t tell you how proud I am of the work you’re doing. You’re the best person I know.”
“Grazie. None of the women know that I’m their patroness, so I don’t get a lot of gratitude. It’s nice to hear.”
“I’ll tell you more regularly.” He took her hand. “And I want to help you put Salvio behind you.” He brought her hand up to his cheek and held it there. He noticed that the name caused an expression of distaste, but he pressed on. “Will you ask Cardinal Negrali for an annulment?”
She pulled her hand away and pivoted to stare at him. “How did you know I’ve been considering that?”
“I’ve been thinking about it, too. It was an arranged marriage to produce an heir.”
She frowned. “Do you think his attempt on my life is suitable grounds for annulment?”
“I should think so.” He gave her a sad smile. “Then you’d be free to marry again someday.”
“I’ll think about it.”
“Would you like to get married again?”
“I don’t know. I hated my last marriage.” She made a face, but then smiled at him. “Maybe one day I’ll start slow and go on a date. I’ve never been on one.”
“I’d like to take you out.”
She blushed. “Oh! You want to keep me up at night thinking about you? What can I say?”
“Say you’ll let me kiss your cheek.”
“Sì, and then let me go to bed.” Her blushing skin was warm against his lips as he grazed them against her cheek and whispered, “Grazie, bella,” into her ear. Then he got up and leaned over her. “You make me so happy.”
“Go on now.” She stood up and moved toward the bedroom side of her suite.
“Sleep well, Raphielli.”
CHAPTER
8
Markus arrived at breakfast on the heels of Gabrieli and the Pope, and sensed something was wrong. He’d been through enough calamities with these people to know he should brace himself. He could fee
l the tension coming off the two men, but their guards were relaxed so, apparently, the issue wasn’t physical danger. Juliette’s jaw was set, and she looked alarmed. As servants moved about with coffee and food, Juliette took a deep breath and let it out shakily. “Casimir, the media says that Cardinal Arguelles and Cardinal Klerk have been stealing babies. What of this is true?”
Vincenzo jerked in his chair as if he’d been stabbed in the back and, while everyone turned to look at the Pope, Markus watched Vincenzo. His complexion had turned a muddy color and he looked like he was about to go into a fit.
The Pope said, “Arguelles and Klerk have been working with a group of doctors and missionaries and…they have coerced mothers to give their children up.”
“Have they taken children after birth telling the mothers they had died?”
“Sadly, that is true in some cases,” the Pope said in a whisper. “The unfortunate facts came to light last night. Early this morning we verified it.”
Vincenzo pushed back from the table, saying, “Please, excuse me.” He hurried out of the room. As Giselle watched him go, the look on her face was hard for Markus to bear.
Ivar asked, “You and Gabrieli are going to Rome?”
The Pope said, “Sì, we will begin an official inquest into Arguelles’ and Klerk’s actions, but the Vatican is in upheaval. The ultra-conservatives are calling for a return to the Code of Canon Law from 1917.”
Juliette looked ill. “That would return the Church to the dark ages.”
“Not quite, my dear. But sì, much of our work in the last century would be reversed.”
Giselle said, “As pope, you don’t have to bend to the conservatives.” Markus knew she was trying not to panic.
“This morning the cardinals told their priests to begin preaching that arcane doctrine to their congregations worldwide. It will be a mighty fight.”
Markus thought of how happy Giselle looked describing her wedding dress just twelve hours before, and got the overwhelming urge to out Vincenzo. Just say it and be done with it.
Storming Venice Page 14
