Beatrice Cordano
I read the letter over and over, burning the words into my memory as though they were a living flame.
All his letters to me have been full of tenderness
. Oh, the miserable duped nitwit, fooled as I had been. And Dario, the traitor, doing his best to prevent her from entertaining the slightest suspicion or jealousy of his actions during her absence. So, he
had
written her; no doubt
letters
sweet as honey brimming over with endearing words and vows of fidelity, even though he had already accepted me as his wife. God! What a devil’s dance of death they played!
On my return I shall make it my first duty to pay back with interest the rather large debt I owe you
. Rather large indeed, Beatrice, so large that you have no idea of its extent.
…
thus my honor will be satisfied
. And so will mine in part.
…
and you, I am sure, will have a better opinion of me. Yours to command
. Perhaps I shall, Beatrice, for I have many commands for you. Maybe when all my commands are fulfilled to the bitter end, I may think more kindly of you. But not till then!
I paused to think
for a few minutes, and then sitting down, I penned the following note.
Cara amica,
I am d
elighted to hear of your good fortune, and still more enchanted to know you will soon enliven us all with your presence. I admire your plan to surprise Signore Gismondi, and will respect your wishes in the matter. But you must do me a small favor. Things have been very boring since you left, and I propose beginning the gaieties afresh by hosting a Christmas Eve dinner in honor of your return, and your new wealth and status in society. It will be a feast for women only. Therefore, I ask you to oblige me by ensuring you return on that day, and when you arrive in Vicenza, come straight to my apartment so that I may be the first to welcome you home, as you deserve. Send me your answer and the arrival hour of your coach, and I shall have my carriage meet you. The dinner-hour can be fixed to suit your convenience, of course, but perhaps eight o’clock may suit? After dinner, you may leave to go to Villa Mancini. Signore Gismondi’s surprise will be keener for having been slightly delayed. Trusting you will not refuse to gratify an old woman’s whim, I am,
Yours for the time being,
Giulia Corona
Having finished this note in the disguised penmanship I had so patiently honed, I folded, sealed, and addressed it.
Summoning
Paolo, I bade him to post it immediately. As soon as he left, I returned to my breakfast and tried to eat as usual. But my thoughts were too lively for appetite. I counted on my fingers the days. There were only four, between me and what? One thing was certain. I must see my husband, or rather, my betrothed. I must see him this very day. I then began to consider how my courtship had progressed since that evening when he had declared he loved me.
I had seen him frequently, though not daily. His behavior had been
sometimes affectionate, adoring, timid, gracious, and once or twice, passionately loving, though the latter, I had always coldly curbed. For though I could bear a great deal, any sham of sentiment on his part sickened me. It filled me with such loathing that I feared my pent-up wrath might break loose and compel me to kill him swiftly and suddenly as one crushes the head of a poisonous adder; an all-too-merciful death for someone like him. I preferred to woo him with gifts. He was always eager to take whatever gift I presented him. From a rare jewel to a new horse, he never refused anything. After all, his strongest passions were vanity and greed. Sparkling riches from Negri’s pilfered hoard; trinkets specially chosen for him – chains of gold, leather pouches filled with silver, silk for a new shirt – he accepted them all with a covetous glee he did not bother to disguise. In fact, he made it clear that he expected such things from me.
After all, what did it matter to me? Of what value was anything I possessed other than to assist me in carrying out the punishment I had destined for him? I assessed
him with critical coldness. I saw the depravity he craftily concealed beneath his false virtue. Every day he sunk lower in my eyes, and I wondered how I could ever have loved so coarse and noxious a man. Handsome he certainly was, and as shrewd as gamblers, who, in spite of their addiction, I now considered less vile than the man I had wedded.
Mere beauty of face and form can be bought as easily as one buys a flower, but the loyal heart, the pure soul,
the inner strength, the lofty intelligence which makes a man special, these are not purchasable and seldom found by good women like me. Yet, how was it that I who now loathed the creature I had once loved, could not look upon his good looks without a foolish thrill of passion awaking within me – passion that carried murder, admiration that was almost brutal, feelings which I could not control, though I despised myself for experiencing them. There is weakness in the strongest of us, and wicked men know well where we are most vulnerable. One dainty pin-prick well-aimed and all barriers of caution and reserve are broken down. We are ready to fling away our souls for a smile or a kiss.
I lost no time that day in going to Villa Mancini. I drove there in my carriage, taking with me the usual love-offering, this time, a
thick golden bracelet. I recalled the words Beatrice spoke to me after Chiara was born. How mysterious they had seemed to me then; how clear their meaning now!
But the world is always filled with suspicion. Jealousy’s stiletto is ever ready to strike, justly or unjustly. Children are well versed in the ways of vice. Penitents confess to priests who are worse sinners than they are, and fidelity is often a farce.
When I arrived, I found my fiancé in his bedchamber, attired in a
wine-colored velvet robe. He sat in an easy-chair in front of a sparkling wood fire, reading. His attitude was one of ease and grace, but he sprung up as soon as his valet announced me, and came forward with his usual charming words of welcome as if he were a monarch receiving a subject. I presented the gift with a few complimentary words uttered for the benefit of the servant who lingered in the room, and then added in a lower tone, “I have news of importance. Can I speak to you privately?”
He smiled and motioned for me to take a seat
, and then dismissed his valet.
As soon as the door closed behind the man, I spoke at once and to the point, scarcely waiting till my husband resumed his easy-chair before the fire.
“I received a letter from Signorina Cardano.”
He
tensed slightly, but said nothing. He merely bowed his head and raised his arched eyebrows with a look of inquiry as if to say, ‘Why should that concern me?’
I watched him
through narrowed eyes. “She is coming back in two or three days.” Here I smiled. “She says that you will be delighted to see her.”
This time he half rose from his seat, his lips moved as though he w
anted to say something, but he held his silence and sunk back into the velvet cushions, his face anxious.
“
She will likely be distressed when she learns of our engagement. It may be better for me to be the one to tell her. I advise you to visit some friends for a few days, till she has time to get used to our betrothal and accept the fact that you have chosen me instead of her. Then you can return. What do you say?”
He pondered my question for a few moments.
“I think that may be a good idea. Signorina Cardano can be rash and hot-tempered at times. But surely you shouldn’t have to face her alone. She may insult or offend you when she learns the truth.”
“
Oh, don’t worry about me.” I said, quietly. “Besides, I can easily pardon any outburst of temper on her part, in fact, I expect it from her. To lose all hope of ever winning your love will most definitely set off her fury. Poor woman!” I sighed and shook my head with benevolence. “By the way, she tells me she has received letters from you.”
I asked this question carelessly, but it took him by surprise. He caught his breath and stared at me with an alarmed look. When he noticed my
blank expression, he regained his composure.
“Oh,
si!
I wrote to her once or twice on matters of business connected with my late wife’s affairs. Unfortunately, Carlotta made her responsible for some trivial matters. She has no doubt exaggerated the number of times I have written to her. How ill-mannered of her to do so.”
I let his lie pass without
response. I reverted to my original theme. “What do you think, then? Will you stay here or will you go away for a few days?”
He rose and approached me.
“I can visit the monks at my old school in Padua. There, I can devote some time to rest and contemplation and can plan for our future. What do you think?” He seized my hands and held them hard.
“
I think it is a fine idea. None of us knows what the future holds. We cannot tell whether life or death awaits us. It is always wise to prepare for the future. Go visit your old friends, the monks, by all means. I am sure they will be happy to see you again. Please let them know that I will visit you there once Beatrice’s reaction has been smoothed into resignation.
Si
, go to Padua and while there, pray for yourself and pray for the peace of your dead wife’s soul for me. Earnest, unselfish prayers uttered by someone as good as you, will fly swiftly to heaven! And as for Beatrice, have no fear. I promise you that she will not bother us any more.”
“
Ah, you do not know her,” he murmured, lightly kissing my hands. “She’ll not let me go so easily and may give you trouble.”
“
I know how to silence her,” I said, releasing him as I spoke, and watching him as he stepped closer to me. “Besides, you never gave her reason to hope you would be together, therefore she has no reasons to complain or be upset.”
“
True!” he replied with an untroubled smile. “But I hate hurting anyone. When do you think I should leave for Padua?”
I marvelled at how he could lie so effortlessly.
I shrugged my shoulders with an air of indifference. “We are not married yet, so you are free to choose your own time and can suit yourself,” I said coldly.
“
Then, I will leave today. The sooner the better. My instinct tells me that Beatrice may return before expected.
Si
, it is better to go today.”
I rose to take my leave.
“Then you will need some time to prepare.” I straightened my gown. “Please leave me the address of where you will be staying and do not forget to let the monks know I may be visiting.”
“
Of course!” he replied.
“
Enjoy your time with the monks.”
“
I most definitely will.”
“
And will you, an untainted soul, pray for me?” I asked with a satirical smile, which he did not see.
He raised his
eyes to mine. “I will indeed!”
“
Thank you!” I choked back my contempt and disgust at his hypocrisy.
He stood before me, his hair
glittering in the mingled glow of the firelight and the wintery sunbeams that shone through the window. “A kiss before you go?” he asked.
For a moment I lost my composure.
I scarcely remember now what I did. I know I clasped my arms around his neck. I know that I permitted him to kiss my lips, throat and brow, and in the fervor of our embrace, the thought of how vile he was came swiftly upon me. I pushed him away with such suddenness that he caught the back of a chair to regain his balance. His face was flushed and he looked astonished, yet certainly not displeased. No, he was not angry, but I was thoroughly annoyed, bitterly vexed with myself for being so foolish. “Forgive me,” I muttered.
A smile stole round the corners of his mouth.
“I should be the one to apologize,” he said. “It was I who kissed you.” His smile deepened. Suddenly he broke into a hearty rippling laugh that pierced me to my soul. Was it not the same laughter that had ripped my heart in half the night I witnessed his passionate conversation with Beatrice in the avenue? Had not the cruel mockery of it nearly driven me mad? I could not endure it. I sprung to his side. He ceased laughing and looked at me in wide-eyed wonderment.