by Lora Thomas
Madelena kept her frustrations bottled up inside her. She longed to slap her sister, but she kept those desires to herself. If she gave into them, it would not end well for her. She would be locked in her room and forced to eat peas for every meal for a month. And she hated peas. Or worse yet…beets. A shudder ran down her at the thought.
Madelena’s lips slowly pulled upwards. She was ordered to go to the market and purchase vegetables. Yet her mother never once told her she could not sell her baskets…not that Sandra was aware that Madelena did such a thing. She had made three this month and had them stashed away in the carriage house with the other four she had created. The money she made from the baskets would give her the extra funds she needed for her mask. She had been saving for over a year to purchase her dress for the festivities. Oh, certainly she kept telling herself that she did not want to go, but deep down, she longed to go. To see the festivities. To enjoy the dancing. And the dress she purchased? Well, it was not as elegant as the one her mother had purchased Angela, but it was just splendid in Madelena’s eyes. It was a simple mint green gown with a square bodice and a flowing skirt. Unlike Angela’s that was being custom made, Madelena’s was a store-bought gown that she presently had stashed at her friend Mae’s home.
Madelena approached the sitting room window and waited until the carriage was no longer in view before she darted through the house and out the back door. As she rushed through the yard, the chickens that were about scattered and clucked in protest.
“Sorry, Esmerelda!” Madelena called to the large white hen who began clucking for her chicks to rejoin her. The little yellow balls of fluff returned to their mother, causing Madelena to stop. She turned and looked at the chicks. “You have beautiful babies, Esmerelda. You should be proud.”
Madelena began walking towards the barn and laughed to herself. If anyone heard her talking to the poultry, they would think she was mad, but Esmerelda was a good listener. More times than she could count, Madelena had confessed her frustrations to the large white hen. The hen would simply turn her head, cluck and preen her feathers.
Opening the door to the barn, she peered inside.
“Hello,” Madelena spoke as she entered. “Hello.” When no one answered, she approached the far left corner and gazed down at the straw. Kneeling down, she felt along the ground until she found the brown cotton tarp and eased back the material. The straw on top shifted slightly as she slid the tarpaulin. Underneath were her baskets…all seven of them. Grabbing a discarded hoe handle, she slipped the handles of the baskets over the wooden bar and left the barn through the back entrance.
As she walked along the streets, people would nod their heads in greeting. The baker offered her a sampling of his newest creation and beamed upon her praise. As she traversed her course to the docks, she smiled. She loved Rome! The people were a diverse sort from wealthy merchants to lowly beggars, yet none she met along her daily walks had ever been unkind to her. The people were friendly, and the architecture was surreal! Obelisks were scattered about the city along with marble statues and fountains. When she was a child, she would find herself wishing to leap into the fountains for a reprieve from the summer heat. The fountains scattered throughout Rome were not just for decoration. They supplied much-needed water to the people, plus they were monuments to the papal patrons.
Water would shoot out many of these fountains thanks to the aqueducts and engineering feats of the architects. But not at her favorite where the water only trickled downward thanks to the decreased height of the water source. Her favorite rested at Piazza Navona. There were three fountains here. The one on the northern side was of Neptune spearing an octopus who was surrounded by seahorses and mermaids. The one on the southern end was of Neptune in a conch shell riding a fish. But the one in the center of Piazza Navona was her favorite. The Fountain of the Four Rivers. It was topped by the Obelisk Domitian. The base held a travertine rock rise which supported the four river gods who represent the four major rivers of the four continents over which Pope Pamphili held authority: the Ganges for Asia, the Rio de la Plata for the Americas, the Nile for Africa, and the Danube for Europe. Carvings of flowers and animals were scattered about the fountain, and a dove symbolizing the Holy Spirit along with a motif of the pope rested on top of the obelisk. These fountains were spectacular.
Her walk today would not take her to The Fountain of the Four Rivers. Today her walk was to the market areas and the docks. The people who visited had no idea who she was. They simply saw her as a peasant trying to peddle her goods. She adjusted the wooden handle holding her baskets upon her shoulder and weaved through the crowded docks.
“Baskets!” she shouted. “Baskets for your goods!”
In the distance, she could hear others shout about their wares. Fish. Crabs. Bread. Mussels. It was time to get to work. Hopefully, she could sell enough of her baskets to purchase the mask she wanted for the festival.
“Baskets!” she shouted again. “Baskets for your fish or bread!”
The docks were busy this time of year. Travelers came from all around to celebrate Carnival. Most were the aristocratic elite here out of boredom. They come to see the sites and to partake in the festivities in order to give them a little excitement in their lives. Madelena longed to be like those people. To be bored with the trivial issues of life. They needed to come live a day in her life; then they would not complain about their insignificant problems.
Her eyes took in the merchant ships, and she contained her smile. She loved to gaze upon the vessels. Magnificent wooden structures that carried the hopes and dreams of so many. With each day, she wondered if perhaps they would bring her a chance of happiness. A chance encounter with a handsome man who would give her an opportunity to leave Rome and travel to a faraway land. Or just maybe an opportunity to make a few memories. A chance to steal a kiss or dance. Someone to bring her flowers and whisk her away for a few minutes alone.
Suddenly, a scream left her as she felt her body falling to the ground, and in an instant, a pair of strong hands were wrapped around her upper arms. The hands gently repositioned her upright.
“Watch where you’re going,” Madelena snapped, her hands hurrying to adjust her dress.
“I beg your pardon,” a deep voice said in refined English with a touch of humor.
Her eyes came to the stranger, and her voice lodged in her throat. The happenings around her suddenly became distant, as the man before her caused her to lose track of everything around her. He was tall, and his tweed coat was pulled taut over his broad shoulders. His hair was dark red with streaks of copper. The brows over his green eyes only made the color seem more vivid. His eyes were apologetic as he gazed down upon her. This man before her was one of her fantasies.
Oliver stood upon the bow of the ship and watched the bustling pier. Several dock workers loaded their carts with the merchandise that was being unloaded. Noblemen and gentlewomen boarded a ship while others were leaving another. Sailors hoisted lines and made ready to sail while others were eagerly tethering the rigging awaiting their time at port.
“You planning on joining the crew?” Oliver heard the captain of the ship ask.
Oliver glanced over his shoulder, and a deep breath left him. “No. I am far from being a sailor. I will leave that duty to my brothers.”
The captain nodded in agreement. “That you are not. I’ve never seen someone turn so green so fast. Thought you St. Johns were born with the sea in your blood.”
A smirk pulled the corner of Oliver’s mouth upward. “Unfortunately, not all of us acquired that trait, Captain Dewlard. I do not suffer the effects of the sea nearly as bad as two of my older brothers, but it still is bothersome. However, I am delighted to say it does not happen each time.”
“Good to know. Mayhap you’ll have sea legs for your voyage home.”
“I truly hope so.”
“Your trunk has been unloaded. It will be awaiting you at the office.”
“Thank you, Captain. Safe travels sh
ould I not see you before your departure.”
“Thank you, Mr. St. John. And you be careful here. It’s nearly Carnival, and this town can get somewhat rowdy during that time.”
Oliver laughed. “You must have forgotten who I am. St. Johns love to carouse and cause a ruckus. Besides, Carnival is the sole reason I am here.”
“Take care, Mr. St. John. It can be a might rowdier than you are accustomed to. Many are not gentlemen here. The cutthroats hide behind those masks.”
Oliver’s right brow shot upward. “I thought one could not wear a mask after dusk.”
Dewlard nodded. “Aye, that is correct. But during the day, they can keep their faces covered. There’s sneaky bastards out there. They take advantage of the masks and will rob you blind if you’re not careful.”
“Thank you for the warning. I will take heed to leave my valuables at home.” Oliver extended his hand to the captain and gave a firm handshake. Departing the ship, his green eyes took in every aspect of the town around him. In the distance, white buildings with red clay roofs welcomed travelers. Visitors were dressed in every form of fashion, from those wearing the finest silks to others wearing poorly crafted linen and cotton. Women walked about with their parasols raised, shielding their pale flesh from the sun’s gleaming rays.
Oliver inwardly smiled. His mother, Elizabeth, and sister, Madison, never used covering in the sun, and the scattering of freckles across their noses was the telltale sign. Even Madison’s daughter had a love of the outdoors with the same freckles upon her cheeks.
“Fresh fish!” Oliver heard a child yell in the distance, followed by another shouting, “Oysters and clams!” He left the pier and walked down the wharf. When his feet hit the soil, more shouts of vendors peddling their goods echoed around him. Fish, oyster, clams, bread, and flowers. He looked to the right and smiled as a boy darted past him laughing as he kicked a ball down the street. Several others followed the boy with sticks. He turned and watched the boys, his steps carrying him backward. He felt his body bump into someone and turned just as the person started to fall. His hands quickly captured the lady.
“Watch where you’re going,” the woman snapped as she adjusted her gown.
Her rudeness surprised him, especially since he had kept her from falling. His gaze took in her attire. She appeared to be another vendor peddling her ware. The tan dress she wore was not the finest quality but not the worst either. When he saw her face, his heart skipped. She was stunning. Soft brown eyes were held by an oval face with an upturned nose with high cheekbones. Wind captured her raven locks, causing them to dance around her.
“I beg your pardon,” Oliver replied with humor.
Madelena blinked several times to ward off the spell of the handsome man before her. When the sound of one of her baskets being kicked echoed around her, she shook his hands from her arms.
“My baskets!” she exclaimed, kneeling down to pick up her scattered merchandise.
“Allow me,” Oliver said as he knelt beside her. His hands reached outward and snagged two of the baskets. As he was reaching for a third, one of the running boys returned. The lad’s foot hit the basket, and it stuck to his foot. The boy did not stop running, although his fast pace momentarily slowed as he shook the basket from his foot.
Oliver stood and picked up the damaged item. He handed it to the woman.
Madelena looked at her damaged merchandise. Out of her seven baskets, only three were salvageable. She would never get to purchase her mask now. Her brown eyes pulled downward with sadness. “They’re ruined.”
“I am truly sorry.”
Madelena looked at the man. “The docks are a busy location, signore.”
“You speak English.”
“I speak many languages. Now, if you will please excuse me. I have three undamaged baskets that I need to sell.” Perhaps, she could make more before the festival.
“No,” Oliver said.
“No? I need the money from these baskets.”
“I am the cause of the ruination of several. Allow me to purchase them, along with the remaining undamaged ones.”
Madelena opened her mouth to protest.
“I insist.” Oliver reached inside his tweed jacket and pulled out a flat leather purse. “How much?”
Madelena’s eyes went between the wallet and the man’s face. She could lie and get a fortune from the man, but she was no liar. “You are very foolish, signore. I could state that they are worth far more than you have.”
“I am not a gullible man. But I am honorable. I have damaged your means of survival. In good conscience, I cannot allow you to go hungry because of my lack of vigilance.” He pulled out several notes. “This should cover your baskets along with your time in making them.”
She took the money, and her eyes widened as she flipped through the notes. “This is entirely too much, signore. For this, you could purchase twenty.”
“Call it a blessing, miss. I have ruined your day and your baskets.”
Madelena placed the money in the pocket on the front of her dress and held out the broken hoe handle. “Then enjoy your merchandise, signore.”
“Keep them.”
“But you bought them.”
Oliver nodded. “I did. I have no need for baskets.”
“Then why did you buy them?”
“Because I damaged them.”
Madelena drew her brows together. “These,” she held out her hoe with three baskets hanging down, “are not damaged.” She picked a small basket up from the ground. It was not much larger than a saucer but had been deep with a small handle that had straw twisted to resemble roses along the top. However, the once rounded basket was flattened, and the handle was holding on by only a few strands of dried grass. “This is damaged.” She motioned to another sitting upside down, the bottom now missing. “That is damaged.”
Oliver took the small basket from her hand. “Then I overpaid for this one. Take the money in good conscience, my lady. And enjoy the rest of this beautiful day.”
“I am not a lady,” Madelena replied.
A boyish smile pulled the corner of Oliver’s mouth causing a dimple to appear on his left cheek. It gave him a youthful appearance, yet there was a twinkle of something else in his eyes. “Tis a shame, for someone as beautiful as you should be graced by that title.”
Heat flooded Madelena. She had been called beautiful many times in the past, but the way this man said it? Well, there was something quite naughty about it, causing excitement to fill her veins.
“Oliver! There you are!” A male voice shouted from behind Madelena causing the man before her to look over her head.
She battered her lashes coyly as she kept her gaze upon Oliver. He certainly did not look like an Oliver for that was a boy’s name, and this was a man before her.
Madelena curtsied and slightly lowered her head. “Signore Oliver.”
When she righted, that boyish smile was still upon his handsome face. “My lady,” he replied, giving a polite bow and a teasing wink. His eyes lingered on her for a moment longer before he turned his attention to the man who had called his name. “Hello, Martin!”
Madelena glanced over her shoulder, and her breath caught. He knew Martin Henshaw! If Martin saw her, she would be in trouble for he was an acquaintance of her father. Why, she had even been to his home a time or two and exchanged pleasantries with his wife.
“Good day,” she replied, rushing past Oliver.
Oliver turned and watched the basket lady leave.
Martin’s hand roughly patted Oliver upon the back. “I was wondering where you were. I saw the sails of your ship from my office hours ago.”
Oliver kept his attention on the lady’s departing back.
Martin noticed the distraction. “Is something wrong?”
Oliver shook his head. “Do you know that woman?”
“Which one?”
“The one carrying the baskets.”
Martin glanced towards the lady’s departing bac
k and shook his head. “I do not recognize the back of her head. But I should for the back of heads are so memorable.”
Oliver’s right brow rose slightly. “Your sarcasm is not appreciated.”
Martin grinned and roughly patted Oliver’s back again. “Relax, my friend. There are plenty of available women in Rome this month. After all, it is Carnival!”
“Indeed.” Oliver gave one last parting glance at the back of the beautiful basket lady. His gaze went back to the broken basket in his hands. Perhaps, he would see her again.
Chapter Three
Martin weaved through the crowded streets of Rome with Oliver right beside him. As they journeyed, Martin pointed out local restaurants that were “well worth one’s time.” They made their way to the Rome office of Emerald Shipping. It sat upon the River Tiber on the outskirts of the city. Oliver’s older brother, Jacob, often complained that the office should be closer to the ocean. Martin always had a comeback, reminding Jacob that the merchants were in the city and that the office needed to be seen in order to draw business to the company. When larger shipments were needed, schooners would run the merchandise to the coast to be picked up by the larger ships of Emerald Shipping. Jacob complained that it was a waste of time and resources to load and unload cargo twice. Martin would remind Jacob it employed more individuals, hence increasing the popularity of Emerald Shipping, leading to more shipping contracts. And the devil take it, Martin was correct. Nearly every business in Rome used Emerald Shipping in some sort of fashion from shipping their own products to having items delivered to them.
Oliver spotted the office in the distance. Emerald Shipping was emblazoned in green and outlined in black upon a white sign hanging on the outside of an impeccably clean, white building. The nearer they came, the more the cleanliness of the building stood out. No film upon the windows. No dirt upon the walls. Even the few steps were swept clean of dirt and debris.
“Impressed?” Martin asked with arrogance as he observed Oliver’s inspection of the office.