The Contessa's Vendetta (16 page)

“
No, I cannot say that I find that statement true in my case.”
Delighting in her initial discomfort, I motioned for her to take a seat. “Please make yourself comfortable. May I offer you some pomegranate juice?”

“
Grazie
, but I have already breakfasted. Please do not let me disturb you. Signore Gismondi wishes—”

“
You saw him last night?” I interrupted.

A touch of pink tinted her cheeks.
“
Si
, for a moment or two; only to give him your message. He thanks you and would like you to honor him with a visit before he can accept your gift of jewelery for his daughter. Because of his bereavement, he has not received visitors, but for you, a close friend of his wife’s family, he extends a warm welcome.”

“
It is seldom that I receive so gracious, so tempting an invitation!” I gave her a meagre smile. “But I regret that I cannot accept it. Please give Signore Gismondi my regards in your kindest words”

She gave me a puzzled look.
“Do you mean that you will not visit him? You are refusing his invitation?”

I smiled.
“I mean, Signorina Cardano, that I am accustomed to having my way and I make no exception for any man, regardless of how fascinating he is or from what class he comes from. I have much business to conduct in Vicenza and that is my first priority. When it is concluded, I may attempt a few social visits, but for now, I am not ready to meet with him. I am fatigued from travel and as a result, a bit curt, and not up to social niceties. But I promise you, with a little rest, my nerves will settle, my patience for etiquette will return, and I shall be better prepared to call upon him. For now, I trust you will make a fitting apology on my behalf for declining his gracious invitation.”

Beatrice
’s look of astonishment faded, transformed itself into a smile, and then into a full laugh. “Oh, contessa! You truly are a fascinating woman. I am almost inclined to believe that you truly hate men.”

“
Oh, not at all,” I said with composure as I peeled and sliced a fragrant peach. “Hatred is a potent emotion. One must experience true love before one can hate. I do not hate men, rather, I am apathetic to them. They are nothing more than encumbrances to women. I find men a burden, needy, and terribly demanding.”

“
Yet many a woman longs for such a burden!”

I gave her an intense look.
“Women can be so blind. Men seize upon any pleasure that comes their way. Led by hot animal impulses, which we women mistake for love, they snatch up beautiful women and once they have their way with us, we become worthless to them.” I held up the stone from the peach I had just eaten. “The fruit is gulped down and only the bitter core remains.”

Beatrice shrugged.
“I do not agree with you, contessa, but neither do I wish to argue with you. For a woman of more senior years such as yourself, you may be right, but for one who is young, whose life stretches before her with promise and love, the embrace of a man is as necessary as spring rain to a newly planted seed. Surely there must have been a time when you loved a man?”

I expelled a short laugh.
“Oh, I did at one time indulge in such a love with all its dreams and fancies. He was a good man, nearly a saint. But a friend I highly respected told me I was not worthy of him. I became so persuaded of the man’s great goodness and my own unworthiness of him, that I left him.”

She looked flabbergasted.
“That was a most peculiar reason for abandoning a man you truly loved, was it not?”

“
I agree, it was very peculiar, but it was enough of a reason for me. But I do not wish to discuss this any more. Rather, let’s speak of something more pleasant and interesting. Yesterday, we spoke of many things, but when you mentioned to me that you painted, I was most intrigued. Will you show me your work?”

“
Whenever you wish, though I fear they are not worthy of your attention. They are all at my studio.”

“
Nonsense,” I said with starched civility. “A woman should never underestimate her skills or talents. Allow me to call on you this afternoon. I have some time to spare if that will suit you.”

“
It will suit me indeed.” She gave me a gratifying look. “But I fear my paintings may disappoint you. It is not easy for a woman to practice her skills as an artist, as you must be aware. So my gift for art is not well honed yet.”

I smiled, for I knew very well that she lacked artistic talent, but I made no remark.
“Regarding the jewels I wish to bestow to the young Mancini girl, I would also like to present a few tokens of my appreciation to Signore Gismondi. I did not mention it earlier, but I had planned to leave them with contessa Mancini too. They belonged to my father and I have no male heir to inherit them. Would you like to see them?”

“
Oh, I would like to very much. They are unique and rare, I suppose?”

“
Si
, indeed. All my jewels are. I have been somewhat of a collector of fine and rare jewelery,” I answered as I crossed to the chest in the corner. After unlocking it, I removed a large, elegantly carved, oak jewel-chest, which I had especially made for me in Pescara. It contained the golden chain upon which hung the spectacular ship pendant decorated with sapphires, rubies, and diamonds that I had discovered in the vault, a ruby and diamond studded man’s ring, a thick gold bracelet, and a cross heavily embedded with fine emeralds. I had all the pieces reset by a talented goldsmith in Pescara so that although they were similar, they looked nothing like the originals.

Beatrice let out a sigh of admiration as she lifted the dazzling baubles one at a time and studied their bulk and brilliancy. 

I waved my hand casually over them. “They are nothing more than trinkets, but they may please Signore Gismondi and are quite valuable. I would be honored if you would take them to him as a precursor to our future visit. I am certain you can persuade him to accept them until I can personally deliver the remainder of the jewelry I had planned to give to his wife had she lived. They really should belong to him and his daughter and he must not refuse to receive them.”

Beatrice paused and looked at me with sincerity.
“You will visit, will you not? He may rely on it?”

“
You seem very anxious for me to do so,” I said. “May I ask why?”

“
I believe the count would be embarassed if you gave him no opportunity to thank you for such magnanimous gifts. Otherwise, I fear he may not accept them.”

“
Please do not worry,” I said with my warmest smile. “He shall soon thank me to his heart’s content. I give you my word that within a few days I will call upon him. In fact, you have already offered to introduce me. I am pleased to tell you that I’ve changed my mind and now gladly accept his invitation.”

She seemed delighted and squeezed my hand.
“In that case, I will be happy to take these jewels to him. And may I say that had you searched the whole world over, you would not have found a man more suited to show them off. I assure you his handsomeness is beyond comparison.”

“
No doubt!” I said with a nod. “I must take your word for it, however, for I am a poor judge of men’s faces or bodies. And now, my dear, please do not be offended if I seek a few moments of solitude. I shall arrive at your studio later today to view your paintings.”

Beatrice rose to leave. I placed the jewels in a leather-covered wooden case, strapped and locked it, and then handed it to her with its key. She gushed with appreciation, almost fawning over me, in fact.

And thus I discovered another defect in her character, a flaw which, as her friend in former days, I had never before noticed. With little encouragement, she would become a flatterer, a groveling servant to the affluent. As friends, I had believed her to be beyond reproach, never heartless, and a person who despised duplicity. But it was all a mere delusion. More treachery by my nearest and dearest. And now that I was no longer deceived? Was the destruction of my delusions worse than the delusions themselves? I believed so as my old friend took hold of my hand and bid me farewell that morning. How I longed to trust her like I once did, but I could not. That had all been swept away by a tidal wave of lies. I watched her leave carrying the box of jewels for my husband.

After Beatrice left, I paused to re-ponder every aspect of my plan. There was still much to do. Part of my plan was to establish myself as a person of
great importance in Vicenza and I had written numerous letters and sent out visiting-cards to affluent families. I summoned Santina and Paolo to help me finalize these arrangements and attend to other minor business matters.

Santina
was a perfect lady’s maid, as Paolo was a faultless steward. They were both silent, discreet, admirably trained. Neither of them asked questions. They were too dignified to gossip, and both bestowed me with instant and unconditional obedience. They completed their duties, going beyond my expectations by attending to details that kept me comfortable and content. I rejoiced in my good fortune in having found and hired them both.

Occupied thusly, the hours passed swiftly, and in the afternoon, I made my way to Beatrice
’s studio. I had no need to consult the card she had given me, for I was already familiar with the studio’s location. After all, it was I who had paid for and acquired it for her. It was a curious, charming place, located at the top of a steep hill. I had passed many a happy hour there with Beatrice before my marriage, reading a book or watching Beatrice paint her unsophisticated scenes and people, most of which I cheerfully bought as soon as she completed them. The quaint porch, now overrun by star-jasmine looked forlornly recognizable. My knees weakened at the pang of regret I experienced in remembering the past, but I recovered. I tugged the bell cord and heard its familiar melodic tinkle.

Beatrice opened the door, her face animated and glowing.
“Come in, come in!” she said cordially. “Please excuse the mess. Everything is in a state of disorder. I don’t have many visitors. Mind the step, contessa! It is a little loose and I do not wish to see you stumble.”

She ushered me up the narrow flight of stairs to the sunlight
-filled room where she worked. Glancing around, I immediately noticed the room’s neglect and disarray. It was obvious she had not been there for quite some time, though she had made a half-hearted attempt to tidy it before my arrival. A large vase of elegantly arranged flowers rested on the table. I noticed that Beatrice had not begun anything new and I recognized all the old finished and unfinished paintings, now caked with dust.

I sat in a cushioned chair and looked at my betrayer with a fault-finding eye. She had donned a gray gown instead of the black one she had worn
earlier that morning. Her face was pale and her eyes extraordinarily luminous. She looked her best and I could understand how my lazy, pleasure-seeking husband might be easily attracted by her beautiful form and features. I spoke a part of my thoughts aloud. “You give the appearance of a true artist.”

She blushed a little and beamed.
“You are very kind to say so.” A delighted sense of self-importance glowed in her expression. “But you are flattering me. By the way, before I forget, I wish to let you know that I have fulfilled your request.”

“
To Signore Gismondi?”

“
Si
. He was not only astonished, but elated at the magnificence of the jewels you sent him.”

I laughed.
“Good. Now let us talk about the picture you have on the easel there. May I see it more closely?”

She pushed the easel closer to me. It was badly done,
a gaudy landscape colored by the setting sun depicted in colors that appeared artificial. Nevertheless, I praised it enthusiastically and purchased it for five hundred
scudi
. Encouraged, she then produced four other similar paintings. Of course, I purchased these too at heavily inflated prices. 

When we finished our transactions, Beatrice seemed jubilant. She opened a bottle of wine and poured us each a small goblet, chattering away ceaselessly. I listened to her politely, laughed at her anecdotes, all of which I had heard before, duping her vainglorious spirit into thinking I cared about what she spoke of. I let her natter on, let her bare her full personality to me, and saw it for what it truly was
: a fusion of self-absorption, greed, sensuality, and callousness, with flitting glimpses of friendliness and understanding. This was the woman I had loved like a sister, a person of paltry intelligence and doubtful values. This worthless, frivolous, turd of humanity was the same being for whom I once bore such steadfast affection!

The clip clop of hooves stopping at our door interrupted our conversation. I set down the glass of wine I had just raised to my lips, and looked at Beatrice steadily.
“You are expecting a visitor?” I inquired.

She seemed ill at ease, smiled, and dithered. 

“I am not sure, but—” The bell tinkled and Beatrice rose with a word of apology to answer it.

I sprang from my chair. My instincts knew very well who it could be. With concentrated effort,
I steadied my nerves. I forced my racing heart to slow down, adjusted my dark glasses more securely over my eyes, and straightened myself. I waited.