Valerie stepped in front of him. “I asked you a question and I believe I deserve an answer.”
“You want an answer, do you?” Thomas snorted, shaking his head. “You may be lovely, Valerie Brooks, with your bright green eyes and shining chestnut hair.” He lifted a hand as if to touch the curls, then let it drop to his side. “But the simple truth of the matter is that crippled foot of yours makes you—” he cleared his throat, “—undesirable.” He shrugged his shoulders. “Blame me, if you want, but that’s just the way it is.”
Valerie was suddenly grateful for the cool Mediterranean breeze. Tall cypress trees dotted the rocky landscape above the shore, bowing away from the direction of the ship as the wind caught their upper branches. She took a deep breath, tears stinging her eyes. “Thank you for your honesty, Mr. Smythe.”
He nodded and walked on. Valerie stood motionless a moment longer as the crowd of passengers pushed past her. A single tear trailed down her cheek. “Thank you very much.”
Chapter 11
The long winding road leading inland from the Bay of Naples was well-rutted and strewn with rocks of every size. The carriages carrying the Brooks and Smythe families moved slowly, the drivers taking their time, choosing a careful path to prevent throwing a wheel.
Valerie peered out the small window. The gray dirt of the road contrasted sharply with the cool green of the surrounding countryside. She fell into an almost hypnotic trance as the landscape unfurled before her—groves of silvery olive trees, arbors of grape vines, and scattered ruins of places whose names were long forgotten. Even Pompeii had ceased to be called by its Roman name for a while and was referred to by the locals as only La Civita, The City. It wasn’t until the excavations had begun at the turn of the century that the original name had been rediscovered.
She caught her breath as her gaze shifted to the horizon. There, in the distance, loomed Mount Vesuvius. Its peak was surrounded by low lying clouds; the sky gray and misty.
“Look, Papa,” Valerie whispered. She gestured toward the mountain. “Isn’t it magnificent?”
Frederick lifted his head and peeked out the window. “Yes, quite lovely,” he mumbled before returning his attention to the account books he had brought along.
How could he be so flippant when presented with such a beautiful sight? “Papa, you didn’t even look,” she gently scolded.
“Valerie, your father is busy. You mustn’t bother him right now.” Jacqueline shifted on the hard wood seat and straightened her hat. “Tell me, how are things going with you and young Mr. Smythe?”
Her mother was studying her much too intently. Had Jacqueline surmised that Thomas had kissed and—and touched her? Valerie tamped down the guilt that still gnawed at her for allowing Thomas such liberties and shrugged, schooling her expression into one of mild disdain. “I decided I didn’t really care for him after all.”
Jacqueline raised an eyebrow. “Really now? What happened to the ‘knight in shining armor’? You had me convinced he was the man of your dreams, Val. Why, I even began to wonder if we’d be planning a wedding upon our return home.”
Valerie frowned.
I thought the same thing myself, until last night.
“Remember the fortune teller, Mama?” she asked instead.
“You mean at Hazel’s?”
Valerie nodded, glancing at Lucy and Reggie out of the corner of her eye. Good. Lucy was asleep and Reggie was occupied practicing the sailors’ knots Johnny had taught him. “Do you recall what she said?”
Jacqueline’s cheerful expression fell. “’A love that will break your heart’?” she whispered.
Valerie nodded and returned to studying the countryside. “Who’d have thought she would be so accurate?”
“I’m so sorry, dear. If only I hadn’t been so ill with the mal de mer, I would have realized.” Jacqueline leaned forward and squeezed Valerie’s hand.
“Why don’t ye tell yer mother what happened?” Lucy grumbled, cracking open an eyelid. “Ye promised me ye would.”
Valerie jumped. “For heaven’s sake, Lucy, you scared me half to death. I thought you were sleeping.”
Lucy waved her hand. “Just restin’ m’eyes, I was.”
Jacqueline looked from Lucy to Valerie. “What are you both talking about? What happened?”
“Nothing really, Mama.” Valerie forced a smile, leaning back against the cushioned seat. “Lucy happened into my room last night when I was upset, that’s all.” She shrugged again. “What can I say? Mr. Smythe turned out to be nothing like I had imagined.”
“She came to her cabin in tears, she did,” Lucy fussed. “Why, I never seen the girl carry on so.”
“I want to know exactly what he did to make you cry,” Jacqueline demanded. “Frederick, are you listening to this?”
Valerie shot Lucy a narrow-eyed stare. Lucy lifted a brow and wagged a finger at her. Could the woman ever keep a secret? She sighed and answered her own unspoken question. Only when it suited her.
Frederick nodded from behind the bank ledger he was still studying. “Yes, dear.”
“Frederick, this is serious. Mr. Smythe may have compromised our daughter.”
Frederick slammed the book down on his lap. “What are you talking about?” he bellowed, thumping his fist on the leather volume. “I’ll have him flogged!”
Valerie shook her head. Papa only listened when it suited him. “You’re jumping to conclusions, Papa.”
“No, he’s not,” Reggie piped up as he tossed the rope aside. “I saw it! He kissed you!”
“He kissed you?” Jacqueline gasped. She pulled off one of her gloves and fanned her face. “Thomas Smythe forced himself on you? What else did he do?”
“Mama, please.”
“Don’t ‘Mama, please’ me, young lady. This is serious.” She fell back against her seat and the glove dropped to her lap. “Well? Aren’t you going to answer any of my questions?”
Four pairs of eyes were upon her.
If only I could just disappear.
“It was just a peck, on the cheek,” she sighed. It wasn’t a lie really, just a sort of an abbreviated truth. For heaven’s sake, if they really knew what had happened, she’d probably be forced to wed the hateful man. “And it was only last night. Reggie came to help me down the stairs for dinner. That’s when he saw Thomas kiss me.” She looked at Reggie, hoping he’d keep out of the conversation, but he’d already gone back to his rope knots. She sighed again in relief. She loved Reggie but she didn’t need him giving Mama the vapors or putting anymore notions about flogging into Papa’s head.
“I certainly hope that’s why you decided you didn’t like him anymore. The nerve of that man.” Jacqueline huffed. She turned to Frederick. “It’s our fault, Freddie. We’re much too free with the girl.”
“Well, I’ll be having a talk with Smythe about his son’s behavior.” Frederick picked up his ledger again. “And I want you to stay away from him from now on, Valerie. Evidently, he’s only after one thing.”
“Frederick! Don’t be crude.”
“Well, it’s true, dear. I was a young man once myself. I know how single-minded they can be.” He returned his attention to Valerie and stared hard at her over the top of his reading glasses. “Is that understood, young lady?”
Valerie let out a sigh of relief. Thank goodness her family was more forward in their thinking than most. They could have decided right then and there to lock her up for the remainder of the trip if they had so desired. “I understand, Papa. I promise it won’t happen again.”
“Look! There it is!” Reggie yelled.
Valerie awoke from her doze. After the carriage had finally shifted to smoother terrain, the sway of the vehicle had rocked her to sleep. She rubbed her eyes, then peered out the window. There it was. The city of the ancient Romans. Pompeii.
“Pulchra. Beautifu
l,” she whispered. In the near distance, the ruins themselves seemed to rise up from the very ground they had been built on. The site had been excavated off and on for centuries, but not as intently as this most recent expedition. The areas long ago exposed were most likely the ones covered in thick vines and weeds. Crumbling portions of a stone fence, the original paint now peeling and almost indiscernible, sprang up from the earth. Scattered on either side of the road were fragments of fluted columns, some with their decorative capitals still intact. Graceful Ionic, with tight swirls forming all four corners, were the most dominant. Simple Doric, straight and square, also appeared within the architectural mix. Valerie drank it all in, impressing the images on her mind.
As they approached the main entrance gate, they came upon the Necropolis, just as she had seen it illustrated in her history books. Large stone mausoleums, as far as the eye could see, surrounded the town. Built of cool white marble, they sat in stoic silence, the setting sun casting them in a soft, orange glow. Here and there, a bench beckoned from a grotto. Come. Rest your weary bones and offer up a prayer for the dead.
Valerie caught her breath as the carriage passed through the stone and iron gate. There, to her left and near the remains of a small building, stood a statue of Dionysus, the god of wine. Balancing on the balls of his feet, he held a goat skin high and gestured as if he were pouring the entire contents down his throat. She studied the small structure next to it and decided the local vintner must have owned it, for he would have been most interested in invoking the help of this particular god.
“Look over here, Val!” Reggie motioned out his window.
She leaned across her father. There, lying in the dust thrown up by the carriage, were the cast images of several people, each preserved in the throes of dying. In one grouping, she could make out the forms of a man, a woman, and a small child. The man was raised up on one elbow, obviously still trying to save his family from the ash and pumice that had pelted the city. Farther along, a solitary woman lay, her head resting on her arms. She appeared to be sleeping, waiting only to be awakened. Valerie wondered how she would have reacted if in the same situation. Would she have died so peacefully?
Though Sir David had explained the process, she had no idea how life-like the statues would appear. The folds of their clothing, the horrified expressions frozen forever in time. Valerie sat back, her eyes damp.
Those poor people must have realized their fate, only too late.
She gazed at the large mountain in the distance. Such awesome power within its core. Vulcan, the god of the volcano, had spoken here almost eighteen hundred years ago, sending thousands of people to their deaths.
The carriage pulled to a jerky halt. Reggie threw open the door and toppled onto the dusty ground. He jumped up, ran over to the remains of a stone house and began to climb up the wall.
Sir David pulled the boy down by his collar. “See here, now. You mustn’t be doing that. You’ll get hurt or damage the building.”
“How can I hurt this place if the volcano didn’t?” he asked, his eyes wide.
Frederick walked up to him. “What’s the problem here?” he asked.
Smythe cleared his throat. “The boy shouldn’t be climbing all over the structures. Some of them may be unsafe.”
“Run along, Reg, and help your sister out of the carriage.” Frederick ruffled his son’s hair. “I need to talk to Sir David in private for a moment.”
As Reggie scurried off, Frederick turned to the older man. “Your son seems to have put my daughter in a compromising situation while on ship.”
“Wh–what?” Smythe sputtered rubbing the mutton chop whiskers on his cheeks with a shaky hand. “But I warned him—”
“Well, evidently, your warning fell on deaf ears. But I hope my warning is heard loud and clear—keep your son away from my daughter.” Frederick straightened to his full six-foot-three-inch height and glared down at the shorter man. “Do we have an understanding here?”
“Of–of course, Brooks. You have my sincerest apologies, and my word. I-I certainly hope this won’t affect our business dealings.” Smythe’s voice took on a desperate plea.
Frederick extended his hand. “I don’t see why it should. Business is business.”
“Yes indeed. Indeed, it is.” Smiling, Smythe shook Frederick’s hand. “I shall send Thomas on ahead to Naples. I’ve a friend there who can keep an eye on him.”
“I think that would be best, considering the situation,” Frederick conceded. Smythe nodded and walked back to his carriage.
Frederick smiled as his wife and daughter approached.
“Well, husband, are we to enjoy a peaceful stay in Pompeii?”
“It’s all taken care of,” he explained, leaning down to kiss his wife’s cheek. “Thomas will not be staying here with us.” He turned to his daughter. “I’m certain you can explore to your heart’s content,” he smiled. “Within reason of course.”
“Of course, Papa.” Valerie grinned. “Always within reason.”
Chapter 12
She was free!
If Thomas had remained with them, she’d probably be guarded every moment by either Lucy or Mama. With him gone, she could explore Pompeii without being watched over like a chick by a mother hen. She couldn’t wait to get started. First on her list—The City of the Dead.
“Sir David, welcome back to Pompeii.” A short, robust man approached the visitors. He shook Smythe’s hand, pumping it up and down vigorously.
Valerie peeked over her mother’s shoulder. The stranger must be Giuseppe Fiorelli, the man in charge of the expedition.
The man responsible for bringing the dead back to life.
She’d seen lithographs of him working amongst the ruins and had expected someone much taller and younger. She hid a smile. Artists always seemed to have a penchant for reinterpreting reality.
“Good to see you, Giuseppe. This is Sir Frederick Brooks. He’ll be extending the loan to keep this operation of ours running.” Smythe grinned as Fiorelli and Frederick shook hands. “If he likes what he sees, that is.” He waved his arm behind him. “And this, of course, is Sir Frederick’s wife, Mrs. Jacqueline Brooks, and their daughter Valerie, and son Reggie.”
Fiorelli bowed low. “So happy to make your acquaintances. Would you like a tour of the site before you get settled?”
Valerie stepped forward. “That would be wonderful.”
Jacqueline cleared her throat. Valerie glanced at her mother whose eyes held a warning. “May we go, Mama?” she amended.
Reggie jumped up and down. “I want to see the dead bodies. All of them.” He tugged on Fiorelli’s sleeve. “Are there any bones or skulls lying around? I’d like to see those too.”
Fiorelli chuckled and patted Reggie on the shoulder. “Maybe we can find a few for your inspection.”
Jacqueline sighed. “I suppose it would be all right, but don’t be gone too long.” She looked at the sky. “It’ll be dark soon.”
Fiorelli whistled and motioned with his hands to the workers. A group of men in pairs each hefted a contraption consisting of a chair fastened to long poles. Setting one of the traveling chairs down in front of Valerie, the two men squatted, balancing the contraption on their backs.
Fiorelli moved to assist her and Reggie before climbing into his own chair.” Are you certain you won’t join us?” he called to Jacqueline and Frederick.
Frederick waved his hand. “Plenty of time for that later. Smythe and I need to talk business.”
“And I need to see to the unpacking,” Jacqueline added as she waved at Valerie and Reggie. “Enjoy yourselves but do be careful.”
“We will,” Valerie and Reggie said in unison.
Heading down the dusty main thoroughfare of what had once been a bustling city, Valerie noted the crumbled remains of ancient homes poking up through the ground. Here and there, bright colors
decorated the bits and pieces of the ruins—orange, yellow, blue, green, and a profusion of red. Even a few touches of gold leaf glinted in the waning sunlight.
Pompeii must have been magnificent in its day.
“What’s that over there?” Valerie asked, pointing to a large building almost totally unearthed. The entrance was roped off and the newly installed wood door was closed.
“Ah,” Fiorelli cleared his throat. “Nothing you need be concerned with.”
Valerie leaned forward as the men continued to walk, struggling to interpret the words that covered the walls. “It’s not quite Latin, is it?”
“You are correct. Oscan, a sister to Latin, was the language spoken.”
“Mamia—is—good—for—sex. Only—twenty—sesterces…” Her eyes grew wide as she realized the meaning. “Oh my,“ she murmured.
“You have a keen mind, Signorina. I’m most impressed. But, as I believe you’ve just deciphered, we are in the pleasure section of the town. That inscription was mild compared to some. Perhaps you should avoid reading until we have made our way past these buildings.” He gestured to the area around them. “Most of the brothels are here, as near as we can tell. And,” he looked at her before continuing, “Ladies are not allowed in them.”
With the unpacking done and dinner long over, the small group had finally settled in for the night and rested around a fire.
“Would you like to hear a ghost story?” Fiorelli asked Reggie.
“Yes, sir!” He sat up straight as a board. “Tell us now!”
“When I took over the excavation of Pompeii, there were rumors milling about.” He stared hard at the boy. “Rumors that the ancients were rising from the dead.”
“Impossible!” Reggie slammed his fist down on his thigh as he had seen Frederick do a hundred times before.
Valerie covered her mouth, suppressing a giggle. “Please go on, Signor Fiorelli. What made the people believe this?”
Fiorelli smiled and pulled a cigar out of his jacket pocket. He lit a twig in the fire and held it to the tip. After puffing hard enough to create a sizable cloud around his head, he continued. “Seems an old woman has been seen throughout the city. I’ve never seen her myself but, others have seen her in the tombs and even in the bakery.” He leaned forward and tapped the ashes from the cigar. “And she is always dressed in the garments of the Romans. They say she is the incarnation of the goddess Hekate, come to claim souls to keep her company at the crossroads.”
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