Playing by Heart

by Carmela Martino

  Lord Raffaele laughed. Unlike his sister, he had a deep baritone of a laugh. “Do not be embarrassed,” he said to me. “I have no doubt you were merely keeping time to the music.” He bowed and extended his hand again. “You must not refuse me as your sister has, or I will be thoroughly crestfallen.”

  “Rest assured, Lord Raffaele,” I said, placing my hand on his, “I have better manners than my sister.”

  Dancing the minuet with Gabriella’s brother at a crowded ball felt quite different from practicing at home with our dance instructor, Monsieur LeClaire. Fortunately, all that practice meant my feet knew what to do even as my mind struggled to produce appropriate small talk.

  “I must congratulate you on your betrothal, Lord Raffaele.” We’d reached the point in the dance where I had to circle around him. “Is your future bride here this evening?”

  “Grazie, Signorina,” Lord Raffaele said. “Unfortunately, my fiancé is in Rome attending a family wedding.”

  “That is indeed unfortunate for me,” I said. “I do hope to meet her soon.”

  “I am certain it will be only a matter of time, given your friendship with my sister. And may I add, I am most pleased a young woman as accomplished as you has befriended Gabriella. She could use your sobering influence. My sister can be a veritable flibbertigibbet.”

  I stood still, as it was now his turn to dance around me. “I hope I’m not too sobering an influence. Lady Gabriella has a gift for making me laugh.”

  “Yes, laughter is a gift.” He took my left hand in his right, and we began dancing side by side. “But there is a time for jest and a time for seriousness.”

  Just then, I heard Gabriella’s tinkling laugh. I followed the sound across the room to where she was dancing with Lord Lodovico.

  When I glanced at Lord Raffaele, he was staring after his sister with a troubled expression. “Is something wrong?” I asked.

  We had dropped hands for the next step, which required us to dance across each other again. In his distraction, Lord Raffaele stepped forward instead of back. I couldn’t stop myself and ended up tripping over his feet.

  “Oh, I’m dreadfully sorry!” Lord Raffaele grabbed my arm to keep me from falling. “Are you hurt?”

  “Not at all.” I’d taken much worse spills dancing with Monsieur LeClaire.

  The music came to an end before we could resume dancing. Lord Raffaele bowed and said, “Please forgive my clumsiness.”

  “Certainly.” I knew something other than clumsiness had caused him to stumble.

  “May I get you something to drink?” he asked.

  “That would be lovely.”

  I followed Lord Raffaele to the refreshment table. He handed me a glass. As I took a sip, he grabbed a goblet of wine for himself and swallowed a large gulp. His mood had changed so abruptly I wondered if he was upset with Gabriella for laughing too loudly, or perhaps for showing her preference for Lord Lodovico.

  Lord Raffaele watched his sister over the edge of his glass. She now stood at the far end of the room talking with Lord Lodovico.

  “Gabriella seems rather taken with Lodovico Volpi,” I said. “Do you know him well?”

  “I’ve had little personal contact with the man,” Lord Raffaele said, his eyes still on Gabriella. “However, I did hear much about him on my recent trip to Austria. He was, in fact, the source of a great deal of gossip at court.” Lord Raffaele drank the last of his wine and set his empty glass on the table.

  “You can’t put much stock in gossip.”

  “Aha, you are wise as well as talented.” Lord Raffaele’s expression softened. “I am investigating the matter further. I am confident the truth will be known in the end.”

  “Lady Gabriella is blessed to have such a conscientious brother,” I said.

  Lord Raffaele finally smiled. “Then she is doubly blessed since she also has you for a friend.”

  The musicians were ready to play again. Lord Raffaele held out his hand. “Will you give me a chance to make amends for my clumsiness?

  “It would be my pleasure.”

  As we moved onto the floor, Lord Raffaele glanced over at his sister. She was partnered with Count Cavalieri this time. Lord Raffaele took a spot beside the count, and the two men exchanged friendly nods. Clearly, Lord Raffaele would prefer the count over Lord Lodovico as his future brother-in-law.

  I lined myself up across from Lord Raffaele, which meant I now stood next to Gabriella.

  “Two dances with my brother?” Gabriella arched an eyebrow. “If his betrothed were here, she’d be jealous.”

  I laughed. “She has nothing to fear. Lord Raffaele is a most honorable gentleman.”

  Count Cavalieri struck me as a gentleman, too. Throughout the dance, he focused his attentions on Gabriella. I don’t think he ever took his eyes from her.

  When the dance came to an end, I thanked Lord Raffaele and went off to find Maria.

  She was not where I’d left her. I eventually found her sitting in a quiet corner of the adjacent parlor. “Here you are,” I said. “I’ve been looking all over for you.”

  “I’m sorry, Emmi,” Maria said. “I’ve been trying to sort out my feelings. I thank heaven Father hasn’t been arranging my betrothal. At the same time, though, it feels strange to think someone so young may soon be our stepmother.”

  I sat down across from Maria. “Don’t you feel a little hurt, too, that Father never told us about her and that she’d be here?”

  “Perhaps he didn’t know she’d be here?”

  “Of course he knew,” I said. “Why else would he have been so excited earlier? He should have told us about her, prepared us. Then we wouldn’t have been so, so … stunned.”

  Maria’s gaze drifted toward the door. She stiffened. “Brace yourself, Emmi.”

  “What is it?”

  “Adriana Grilli is headed this way. With her father.”

  “Oh, no.” I sat up straighter. Despite my unmannerly thoughts, I was determined to act the perfect lady.

  “Here they are, Adriana,” Alfonso Grilli said as they approached. His voice was surprisingly deep coming from someone of his short stature. “The two most accomplished young women in all of Milan.” He bowed to Maria. “Buonasera, Signorina Salvini. I trust you are enjoying this splendid ball, eh?”

  “Buonasera, Signor Grilli.” Maria nodded. “I must say, I can’t recall ever having spent such an evening as this.” She gestured to me. “I don’t believe you know my sister. Allow me to present Emilia.”

  “My pleasure, Signorina.” Grilli bowed to me.

  I said only, “Signor Grilli.”

  He introduced us to his daughter.

  Adriana Grilli curtsied then clapped her hands together like a little girl. “I’ve been so looking forward to meeting both of you. Papà has told me much about you.”

  As she spoke, I noticed the bodice of her emerald green gown was embroidered with gold thread and edged in gold piping. The overall effect was to draw the beholder’s eye upward toward her face. The tailoring created an illusion of height, while the colors brought out the green in her hazel eyes. I had to admit she had a pleasing countenance.

  Alfonso Grilli pulled up a chair for his daughter. “I shall leave you to get acquainted, eh?” He winked as though we all shared a wonderful secret.

  Once seated, Adriana chattered away without stopping. She held a handkerchief in her right hand, which she waved about as she spoke. The handkerchief must have been soaked in violet water, for the scent of violets soon filled the air.

  Adriana gushed about the elegance of Gabriella’s gown, expressed her gratitude for the count and countess’s hospitality, and marveled at the grandeur of the palazzo. Her incessant, high-pitched prattle put me in mind of a cricket chirping on a hot summer night. When she finally paused, Maria and I were caught off guard. Neither of us said a word.

  “Oh!” Adriana covered her mouth with her handkerchief as if to silence herself. But she removed the handkerchief all too soon. “I’
m sorry. I tend to chatter when I’m nervous.”

  “What could you have to be nervous about?” I asked in the sweetest voice I could muster. Maria glared at me. I pretended not to notice.

  “Your father hasn’t said anything to you then?” Adriana asked.

  I continued to feign innocence. “About what?”

  “Well, you see …” She twisted her handkerchief in her hands. “Your father has asked my father for my hand in marriage.”

  “Really? How interesting. Father hasn’t mentioned anything to me. Has he said anything to you, Maria?”

  Maria again scolded me with her eyes. Then she said to Adriana, “No, he hasn’t. However, I should think it’s a subject a man would not care to broach with his daughters.”

  “Of course,” Adriana replied. “And you’re both so grown. I didn’t expect …” Adriana’s voice trailed off. She squeezed her handkerchief into a ball.

  “And what, pray tell, was your father’s response?” I asked.

  Adriana blinked at me. “To what?”

  Heaven help us, I thought. The cricket is empty-headed. “To my father’s request for your hand.”

  “Oh, Father didn’t give an answer. He said it was up to me.”

  “He did?” I couldn’t keep the surprise from my voice.

  Maria gave me a hopeful look. I said to Adriana, “How kind of him. It’s a rare father who allows his daughter to make such a decision for herself.”

  Adriana smiled. “Father says he’s in no hurry for me to marry.” She leaned over and whispered. “I think he’s afraid he’ll miss me too much.”

  Miss her? The man must loathe peace and quiet.

  Maria asked Adriana. “Have you made your decision then?”

  “Not yet,” Adriana said. “though I was sorely tempted to give my consent right away. Father tells me you live in a grand palazzo and that your father is highly regarded among the aristocracy. I’ve no doubt he’ll soon accomplish his goal of gaining a title. Then, as his wife, I would be a real lady.”

  She sat up as tall as she could and waved her handkerchief with a flick of her wrist. “Wouldn’t that be marvelous?” She reminded me of my little sister Paola when she played at being a princess. I couldn’t imagine Adriana Grilli as my stepmother.

  Adriana went on. “And your father is so handsome and charming.”

  Father? She was worse than empty-headed; she believed her own fancies.

  “We do have a large household to manage,” Maria said. “And our youngest siblings are only four and six years of age.”

  “Oh, I adore children,” Adriana said. “I play with my young cousins at every opportunity. I can’t wait to have children of my own.” She blushed and covered her mouth again.

  My stomach felt queasy.

  Adriana soon found her voice again. “Really, the two of you were the only reason I didn’t give my consent immediately. I worried over how you’d take to my being your stepmother, given the closeness of our ages. And now that we’ve met … Well, you’re even more mature than I’d imagined.”

  “We have an older brother, too,” I added.

  “Yes, your father told me. But Giovanni’s away at school so I’ll see little of him. No, it’s the need to win your affection that made me anxious.” Adriana held out her arms. “I know what it is to lose a mother—I was only nine when my mother died, may she rest in peace.” Adriana made the sign of the cross before going on. “I would have resented any woman who tried to take her place.” Her expression turned solemn.

  All her talk was making my head spin. Was she going to marry Father or not?

  Adriana was quiet for several moments. Then her face lit up as though she’d just had a brilliant idea. “Perhaps the closeness of our ages is an advantage. Instead of trying to act like your mother, I can be your friend!” She reached out one hand to me and the other to Maria. “You’ll be like the sisters I never had. Won’t it be marvelous?”

  I saw nothing “marvelous” about having another sister—I already had three.

  “You mustn’t make any hasty decisions,” Maria said. “You said yourself your father is in no hurry for you to marry.”

  “But there is no need to procrastinate any longer,” Adriana said. “Now that we’ve met, I just know we’ll get on marvelously!”

  I gritted my teeth. I was beginning to hate the word “marvelous.”

  Adriana stood and clapped her hands together. “I must find Father and tell him I’ve made up my mind.” She kissed Maria’s cheek then mine. “Thank you so much!”

  As soon as she was out of earshot, I groaned. “How can this be happening, Maria? She not only looks like a child, she acts and talks like one, too.”

  “She seems to have a good heart,” Maria said. “I’m certain Father could have done worse.”

  I was not so certain.

  Third Movement: January 1738 - July 1739

  Chapter Sixteen: Charms

  Father married Adriana Grilli at the end of January, barely a year after Mamma’s death. From the moment Adriana entered our household, she showered attention on the little ones. Father’s new wife was so childlike herself, it was no surprise Vincenzo and Paola took to her right away. She won Isabella over easily enough, too.

  What did surprise me was that our young stepmother turned out to be quite capable at managing the household. She told us she’d had practice helping her father, not only at home, but with his business, too. No wonder Signor Grilli hadn’t married her off sooner.

  With the influx of funds from Adriana’s dowry, Father began shopping for a feudal estate. Such property would bring with it the title he’d sought for years, assuming Emperor Charles VI approved the purchase. Then Father would finally become a don, and his new wife, a donna. Mamma had shown little interest in gaining noble status. Adriana, on the other hand, encouraged Father’s efforts at every opportunity.

  She also influenced Father in other ways. He smiled often now. In my mind, too often.

  Adriana must have bewitched him. Otherwise, how could Father have forgotten Mamma so quickly?

  ***

  Adriana’s energy seemed boundless. In addition to managing the household and tending to the little ones, she began helping Father plan the return of his academic meetings. The news spurred me out of the lethargy that had set in when Adriana became my stepmother. I rededicated myself to my music. I was as determined as ever to avoid being forced to take the veil.

  One evening in early spring, while Maria, Isabella, and I worked on our embroidery, Adriana began telling us of the plans for Father’s next meeting. We were all seated together in our stepmother’s sitting room. The room bore little resemblance to when Mamma was here. Adriana had brought in all new furniture and changed the wall coverings. Even the portrait of the peaceful Santa Clara was gone. I resented our stepmother for taking away so many mementos of Mamma.

  From her seat near the window, Adriana announced, “I’ve finally convinced your father to allow women guests at his meetings.”

  “How did you ever manage that?” Maria asked.

  “It was easy,” Adriana said. “When he showed me the guest list, I simply asked why none of the gentlemen’s wives were included. Your father said, ‘Well, I’ve never invited them before.’” Adriana mimicked Father’s voice, making Maria and Isabella laugh. I didn’t find it at all funny.

  Adriana went on. “So then I replied, ‘Why would you, an advocate for women’s education, ban women from witnessing the talents of the two most accomplished young women in all Milan, especially when they happen to be your own daughters?’ For a moment, your father was dumbstruck. Then he said, ‘Well, I suppose you have a point.’” Adriana smiled, pleased with herself. “And that was that.”

  It was my turn to be dumbstruck. Beneath her petite appearance and childlike demeanor, our stepmother was a cunning woman.

  Of course, Maria didn’t see it. She said, “How generous of you, Signora Madre.”

  “I’m ashamed to confess that it’
s not generosity, but selfishness, that inspired me,” Adriana said. “I want to attend the meeting myself, to witness your performances.”

  “May I come, too?” Isabella asked.

  “I don’t see why not,” Adriana said. She chattered on as she resumed working on her embroidery project, a pillow cover in the greens and golds of her bedroom, which she’d also redecorated.

  She suddenly cried, “Ouch!”

  Startled, I looked up to see Adriana sucking her finger. She must have pricked herself. I covered my mouth and coughed to hide my smile.

  “Perhaps I’ve been too ambitious in choosing this piece,” Adriana said. “I’m rather inept at needlework. How is it you girls are so proficient?”

  Maria laughed. “I doubt anyone is clumsier at needlework than I. Emilia can attest to how often Mamma scolded me about it.”

  “Yes,” I said, “in this very room.” But Mamma had praised my needlework here and my musical talent, too. The memory brought unexpected tears. I squeezed my eyes shut to keep the tears from falling onto my embroidery.

  My sadness turned to anger. Adriana wasn’t going to be satisfied with simply ridding Mamma’s mementos from these rooms. She intended to chase Mamma herself from our hearts. Well, Maria and the others might give in to our stepmother’s charms, but I never would.

  “Excuse me.” I stood and gathered my things.

  “Is something wrong?” Adriana asked.

  “Nothing rest won’t help,” I answered as I left the room.

  ***

  I recounted the scene to Gabriella the next time I saw her. We were strolling through the gardens of Palazzo Riccardi. Delicate white blossoms covered the pear trees, their sweet scent perfuming the air. The hum of bees flitting among the flowers provided the basso continuo to our conversation.

  “It’s natural to dislike your stepmother,” Gabriella said as we walked. “What is unnatural is how the rest of your family has so readily accepted her. I don’t imagine to be as fortunate if I should marry Count Cavalieri.”

  “Has your father made a decision yet?”

  “He has eliminated all the suitors save two,” Gabriella said. “Count Cavalieri and Lord Lodovico. Father and my brother both favor the count. Mother is convinced either would make a suitable match, but she has agreed, for my sake, to entreat Father to choose Lord Lodovico.”