by Carol Grace
Instead of rushing home to do whatever he had to do, the prince accompanied them on their walk past chic boutiques and crowded cafes. Frankly she’d rather not see any more of him than necessary. He made her nervous with his penetrating gaze and disturbing cool demeanor. She didn’t know what to make of him or how to reconcile the reports she’d received with the man walking at her side, his twin daughters laughing and chattering. It was almost as if she’d been dropped into a fully functioning happy family of three. What had happened in the interim between the last nanny and Sabrina? Whatever it was, she was pleasantly surprised by her welcome. Time would tell if it was genuine or not.
Sure, there was a missing mother, but the girls had never known her, so perhaps never missed her. And if they needed discipline, well who didn’t? Maybe they’d all decided to be on their best behavior today. If so, Sabrina took it as a compliment and decided to enjoy this family outing for what it was.
The one man Sabrina had secretly loved and admired was the father of the little girl she’d been nanny to. He was the complete opposite of the prince. Warm, kind and friendly, he was the most attentive father a child could want. A man who would never let work interfere with his responsibility as a parent. The contrast between him and her impression of the prince was striking. The less she saw of the enigmatic Vittorio the better.
Since her employer was supposedly busy with work it shouldn’t be a problem. It was the girls who she hoped to win over. A life-time of dealing with her own step-sisters would seem to be the perfect preparation for this job. No one could be as mean and self-centered or spoiled as they were. Sabrina had survived the worst they could dish out. These twins couldn’t possibly be that bad.
It was just a short walk through the town and up a cobbled path to the villa which sat on top of a bank with landscaped gardens, balconies and stairways. Sabrina caught her breath, not from the climb, but from the stunning gardens with masses of bright flowers that surrounded the villa. One was Japanese-inspired with bridges over a pond and a tea house. Next came the rose garden, their blossoms still damp from the rain and their fragrance wafting through the warm air.
“This was our mama’s garden,” Caterina said.
“She loved roses,” Gianna added.
Sabrina glanced at their father. The only indication the subject of their mother was a painful one was the tightening of the lines in his face.
“She’s dead now,” Gianna said with a sideways glance at Sabrina to see how she accepted this fact.
Since she’d died right after the girls were born, and since they’d never known her, maybe they had long ago accepted her absence from their lives. Just as Sabrina accepted the absence of her own mother who’d died when she was a baby.
“That apple tree is where Caterina fell out and broke her arm,” Gianna said.
“There will be no more tree climbing,” the prince said sternly as they paused to gaze at a the pear, cherry and plum trees heavy with fruit.
“No, Papa,” they chorused.
Sabrina studied their little faces to see if they were sincere. She was beginning to wonder what all the fuss was about. The twins couldn’t have been nicer or more polite. Had everyone including the prince overstated the problems with the twins in order to excuse their own lack of ability to deal with them?
Compared to her step-sisters Mindy and Jessica, these girls were angels. A spider in the bed was nothing compared to a dead mouse.
“Do you speak Italian?” Gianna asked, adjusting her tiara which was tilted over one eye.
“Not very much. I’d really like to learn more.”
“We can teach you,” Caterina said, with an eager gap-toothed smile.
“No Italian lessons,” her father said firmly.
The girls didn’t argue or talk back to their father. They just smiled at Sabrina conspiratorially. When her father’s back was turned, Caterina held her finger to her lips. Why her employer wouldn’t want her learning Italian was beyond Sabrina. If anyone in the family was difficult to get along with, it was him.
They finally reached a long driveway lined with ancient cypress trees leading to the villa.
“It’s beautiful,” Sabrina said breathlessly gazing at the large sprawling manor made of old stone.
“It needs work,” the prince explained as the girls ran ahead to the front door. “The fences are crumbling, the terracotta floors must be refinished and the roof of the private chapel leaks. My fiancée thinks we should move to an apartment in Milan where my work is. But my family has owned this property for centuries and I’m loathe to leave. It was always their country house, a place to get away for the summer. Now we live here year-round.”
Inside the villa there was a high-ceilinged reception room with a massive stone fireplace at one end and huge French doors open to the terrace and the warm breezes off the lake. It could have been the same terrace where she’d seen the prince that morning. If it was run-down, Sabrina couldn’t tell. It was just the most magnificent house she’d ever seen.
“I will give you a brief tour, then I must excuse myself,” he said. He called to his children who had gone outside to tell the kitchen staff there would be an extra guest for dinner.
“Can we have bocconcini?” Caterina asked.
“Ask the cook,” Vittorio said.
The tour he gave her was brief. The villa was so large Sabrina was sure she’d need a map to find her way. Actually there was a map on the wall of the library of the estate drawn in the fifteen hundreds. Sabrina hoped she’d have another chance to visit the library with its huge comfortable over-stuffed chairs and tall stacks of books in every language. Vittorio moved on to the portrait gallery where he stopped to name his ancestors on the wall. Some wore crowns, some wore military uniforms. She could see a family resemblance, but none were as out and out gorgeous as the current prince.
On the second floor there was a narrow ancient Roman staircase lined with mosaic. When Sabrina asked where it led to, the prince enlightened her.
“It only goes to the tower which is off-limits. No one’s been up there for years because it’s no longer structurally sound. Legend has it that a princess in the 16th century was locked in by her father until she agreed to marry the man he’d chosen for her. She swore she’d rather die first, and when he went to let her out a few days later, she’d vanished. My grand-mother always told us to be on the lookout for the ghost of Allesandra.”
“I’ll bet the girls love that story.”
He shrugged as if it didn’t matter one way or another, then turned and led the way to her suite. The same suite where other nannies had been forced to leave when they either gave up or were fired.
“It’s lovely,” she said, admiring the high ceiling with the ornate wainscoting, the pale drapes and the private balcony with a wide view of the lake sparkling in the distance. Next to the bedroom was a study and a large bath with a steam room and a huge deep soaking tub. Stacks of white fluffy towels and a fleecy robe hung just waiting to be wrapped around her. It would take an earthquake or other natural disaster to force her to leave this sumptuous setting of her own accord. When his cell phone rang the prince excused himself.
As he walked out of the room she heard him say the name Aurora, and though he spoke in Italian, she heard him mention something about a nanny. No doubt telling his fiancée that he’d hired Sabrina. Then he raised his voice and spoke angrily. Or did it just sound angry to her untrained ears? Wouldn’t the woman be happy to have the girls taken care of so she could have the prince’s attention for herself?
A moment later, as if they’d been waiting for their father to leave the room, the twins appeared at her door, their tiaras and ballet shoes gone.
“We’re having bocconcini for dinner,” Caterina said, hopping up and down on one foot. “I told the cook you’ve never had them.”
“That’s right,” Sabrina said, sitting on the edge of her bed. She was so tired she wanted desperately to slip between those soft sheets and take a nap, but she di
dn’t know what she was supposed to do. She was afraid to relax, in case she missed something important or was summoned by the prince.
“Can we help you unpack your clothes?” Gianna asked, pointing to the suitcase someone had delivered to the room.
She’d barely had time to say yes and a minute later the twins were holding up one pair of shorts, one pair of pants and her one and only dress, a cotton sundress with thin straps and a cotton blazer and several skirts. She could tell they were disappointed in her clothing choices. And at how few outfits she’d brought. They kept looking at the empty suitcase as if there might be a secret compartment containing more clothes.
“Is this all your makeup in here?” Gianna asked holding a small velvet vanity bag in her hand.
“I’m afraid so. Maybe you can take me to a store to buy some more.”
The way the girls smiled and nodded at her told Sabrina she’d said the right thing. As for her clothes, they made it clear they would have liked to see spangles, rhinestones, diamonds, or at least a few frills. Together they held up her sundress and looked at her.
“What will you wear to dinner?” Caterina asked, a frown on her little face.
“I…I don’t know. That dress?”
Caterina and Gianna shook their heads. “Nanny Chisholm always dressed for dinner and so did we,” Caterina said. “We’re princesses so we always wear princess clothes from our dress-up closet, especially when Papa is having important guests. We’ll get you something too.”
“Thank you,” Sabrina said dubiously. So this was a special occasion. What sort of dress would come from their closet and fit her? Maybe it was something Nanny Chisholm had left behind.
They grinned happily at her, showing missing front teeth. If this is all it takes, she thought, to make these girls happy, then this summer is going to be fine. Better than fine.
After they left promising to bring her a “dress-up” dress for dinner, Sabrina treated herself to a long soak in that deep tub, then wrapped in the robe she found in the bathroom, gave in to fatigue and fell asleep on her bed. But first she checked under the sheets for any unwelcome arachnids. She told herself she was being foolish. The twins were nothing like her sisters. They’d even gone to find her a dress to wear.
When she woke up, they were back in her room standing at the edge of her bed looking at her. She sat up quickly and looked at them, wondering where she was and how she’d gotten there.
“Nanny Chisholm didn’t ever take a nap,” Caterina said. “And she was about one-hundred years old.”
Gianna nodded. Her blond curls bobbing. “I suppose that’s why she had to leave. She needed to go home to rest.”
Sabrina was so groggy it took her a few minutes to realize she’d arrived in Italy on the shores of the lake with her two charges who were comparing her unfavorably to a one-hundred-year old woman. She also realized the sun was setting on the lake and the girls were wearing long dresses, shiny black patent leather shoes, and ropes of pearls and beads around their necks.
“You look…very nice,” she said to them from the edge of the bed. Nice was not exactly the word to describe their extravagant attire. But if these were their normal dinner clothes, it was no wonder they’d deemed her own cotton sundress unworthy.
“This is for you to wear,” Caterina said, laying a long black dress with a bright fuscia sash across the bed.
“Are you sure?” Sabrina asked, fingering the feather trim at the hem.
They nodded solemnly. “Until your real clothes arrive. And you get a chance to buy your cosmetics.”
“These are my real clothes,” Sabrina said.
“Too bad,” Caterina said. “It’s a custom to dress up for dinner.”
“But where did you get this dress?”
“It was in our dress-up closet,” Gianna said. “Someone left it here. We think it’s beautiful. Don’t you like it?”
Instead of answering, Sabrina went into the dressing room and came out wearing the black dress which hit her just below the knees, but otherwise fit her well. The girls exchanged looks then beamed their approval. A gong echoed through the house. She slipped into a pair of ballet flats and combed her hair.
“Dinner time,” Caterina said. Both of their faces were wreathed in wide toothless twin smiles.
They descended the marble staircase together. Below in the reception area it was a scene out of an Italian movie which featured the upper classes at play. In the drawing room there were about a dozen people dressed more or less like Sabrina imagined the upper crust would be. The men were in narrow fitted Italian designer suits, the women in dresses with scoop necks or spaghetti straps, deep décolletage or slits up the sides and not that different from the one she was wearing. The girls were right. Her old sundress would have been out of place.
She was just beginning to relax when she saw the prince look up and drop his jaw when he saw her coming down the stairs. The expression of shock and disapproval on his face was unmistakable. Now what was wrong? The dress? The girls? A nanny in the wrong place at the wrong time? Or was he disturbed by the state of his banking affairs and not her?
A servant handed her a glass of some sparkling drink as soon as she set foot on the terracotta floor. In a flash the prince had marched across the floor and was at her side.
“For God’s sake, where did you get that dress,” he demanded.
Chapter Three
His eyes glittered with barely suppressed anger, his mouth so tight he could barely get the words out. He looked at the twins standing a few feet away, who were looking wide-eyed and innocent. He spoke to them sharply in Italian. They shook their heads, shrugged their little shoulders and talked back to their father a mile a minute while gesturing. No doubt explaining she was woefully ill-prepared for the social life in a villa on Lake Como. Or was it all about this dress?
“I really don’t have anything appropriate for a dinner like this,” Sabrina said. “So I borrowed this from…well, the girls suggested it.I hope it’s all right.” From the look on his face it was far from all right.
“No, it isn’t.”
“I’m sorry. I’ll change.” Into what, she didn’t know. But all she could do was to offer.
“You will do no such thing. This is the first dinner party I have had in years. And you appear in that dress. We will have to do something about your wardrobe if you are to stay. For now you will remain right here now and meet the guests and act as though nothing is wrong.” With that he took her arm and held it a little too tightly as he introduced her to a number of men and women as the new nanny. As soon as they heard she was American, everyone very kindly spoke English. If it weren’t for the prince glaring at her, she might have almost enjoyed the occasion just for the novelty of mixing with the rich and well-born Italians.
Now she wondered if not only had she worn the wrong dress, maybe she was supposed to stay in the background, as befitting a member of the staff, but he’s the one who was escorting her through the crowd.
She looked for the girls to quiz them about it but they were gobbling boccincini appetizers from a silver platter on the other side of the room.
No matter where he was in the room, or who he was talking to, the prince kept his eyes on her, or on her dress. Every time she glanced at him, their eyes locked and she felt a chill go up her spine. If he thought the pressure would force her to quit her job as other nannies had, he didn’t know her or how much she wanted to stay. Except for the prince himself, everything was better than she’d imagined – the spectacular setting, her quarters, the view, the girls and this beautiful villa.
It would take more than his anger to scare her off, and more than an inadequate wardrobe. If dinner parties were rare around here, she wouldn’t need any fancy dresses. How many nannies attended this type of party? Not many, she was sure. She looked around the room, wondering which of the stylish women here was his fiancée. Was it the blond with the diamond necklace? The flirtatious woman on his left? If she was here wouldn’t he be watchi
ng her instead of Sabrina?
When she asked the girls which one she was, they said in unison, “She’s not here.” Then they smiled. From growing up with twin sisters, Sabrina instantly recognized the smiles. They were up to something. And it had to do with Aurora, the fiancée. They didn’t like her, the prince had said. And when the girls didn’t like someone – nanny or fiancée – Sabrina had a feeling they’d better watch out.
A few minutes later Sabrina found herself seated next to the prince at the large oval table with the girls at her side. She didn’t know much about protocol, but wasn’t it strange for the hired help to be seated with the host?
“I thought it best to keep you and the girls close at hand,” he explained.
“Why, are you afraid we’ll misbehave?” Sabrina asked, feeling more confident and alert after her nap.
“I don’t know about you,” Vittorio said, raising his eyebrows and slanting a glance at bodice of her dress. She shifted uncomfortably in her chair. The fabric was stretched tight across her breasts. Was that why he was staring? What was it about the dress? “But I know the girls are capable of all kinds of tricks. Take your dress, for example. Whose idea was it for you to wear it?”
“Er….”
“I thought so.”
Just then the gentleman on Vittorio’s right asked Sabrina where she was from and they had a short discussion about the charms of San Francisco while Vittorio turned to the woman on his other side and engaged her in conversation.
Between courses, the prince turned to Sabrina and said he’d never been to San Francisco.
“You’ll have to visit and bring the girls. I’m sure they’d like riding on the cable cars and visiting Alcatraz Prison.”
“One of their former nannies suggested a prison was where they belonged,” he said wryly.
“That sounds a bit extreme,” Sabrina said, unfolding her linen napkin.
