by Lora Thomas
“What proof?” he growled.
“A written statement by your former solicitor stating such. A box full of receipts of purchase you made for your whore. Written documentation from the midwife that delivered Madelena stating that you were there and claimed to be her father.”
“Fabrications and forgeries.”
A malicious sneer pulled Sandra’s lips. “And your whore’s maid.”
Antonio’s face reddened with anger.
“You know. The one you bribed and shipped off to Spain. Turns out, my counteroffer was better than what you had given her.”
“Don’t do this,” Antonio said, torment in his voice.
“I have. I want Madelena out of this house. Out of my sight. Out of my life. Once Drakos has proof of purity, they will wed.”
“What?”
“Proof of purity. He wants a virgin bride. Drakos is sending his own selected midwife. She will arrive late next week.”
Antonio slammed his hands down upon his desk and stood. “Absolutely not! I will not subject Madelena to such humiliation.”
“Then you would rather she face the ridicule and humiliation of being labeled a quadroon’s bastard? For that is what she is. Even your power and influence cannot save her from such a label. She would be ruined.”
“You are an evil bitch.”
Sandra shrugged with indifference. “I have long stopped caring about your opinion of me. I only care about my daughters and their happiness.”
“And I take it you have never considered Madelena as one of your daughters. Even though you have raised her since she took her first breaths.”
“Have you not heard one word that I have said? She is a constant reminder of the woman who you loved. Who you still love.”
“Get out of my sight.”
“With pleasure.” Sandra turned and walked calmly towards the door, a pleased smile pulling her lips. It was about time Madelena had what was coming to her, and Sandra could not wait to be the one to tell her. Oh, wait! She had a better idea. A way to punish Antonio for the love he had towards a quadroon whore and their bastard daughter. Looking over her shoulder, she spoke, “I will allow you to be the one to inform Madelena of her future.”
“I cannot.”
“You can. It will be the punishment you deserve. Telling your favorite child that she is to wed Miles Drakos. Listening to her beg for you to not do this to her and knowing that there is nothing you can do to stop her marriage. Your heart will be ripped from your soul, and your daughter will hate you for what you have done.”
“Is that what this is about? You want Madelena to hate me?”
“I want her to despise you the way I do. I want her to know what your betrayal feels like. And when she screams her hatred at you, I want to witness that. I want you to truly know what it feels like to have your heart ripped from your chest. I want you to know what it feels like to be truly helpless. It is what you deserve, Antonio. For all the pain you have caused me, it is only fitting. I will leave you now so you can find the words to so eloquently inform Madelena of her marriage.”
Chapter Five
Madelena could not contain her excitement. Nothing could ruin this day. Nothing! Not even Angela could spoil her day today. She was actually going to visit her father at his office and then she was going to get a new dress for Carnival! But first, she needed to stop by her friend Mae’s house to deliver a basket that Mae’s mother Maude had purchased.
Mae’s home looked like so many in this area. White stucco with red shutters and a matching clay tile roof. The steps leading up to the front of the house were accentuated with a black iron railing. Several large planters sat along the broad steps, each with a different herb growing.
Stopping in front of the red front door, she raised her fist and knocked. A few moments later, the front door opened.
“Good morning, Signorina Madelena,” the butler said as he opened the door.
“Good morning, Jude. Is Mae in?”
“Signorina Mae is in the sitting room with her mother this morning. They have been expecting you.”
Madelena entered the home.
“May I take your basket?” Jude asked, extending his hand outward.
Madelena clutched the basket close to her chest. “Not this time. Maude asked me to make this for her, and I want to see her expression as I hand it to her.”
“Very good, signorina.”
“No need to show me the way. I know where I am going.” With that, Madelena proceeded down the hallway to the sitting room.
Upon entering, she spotted Mae and Maude sitting on the couch reading a paper. Mae and her mother looked nearly identical with dark brown hair and an olive complexion. Petite upturned noses only made their light brown eyes more stunning. Both possessed a thin frame with an ample bosom. The only difference in the women sitting huddled together was their clothing. Maude was wearing a rust-colored gown that sat off the shoulder and Mae’s dress was more modest, a shade of peach with a square bustline.
Mae gasped as her mother pointed to something written in the paper.
“That must be some interesting gossip for you not even to notice I have arrived,” Madelena spoke approaching the pair.
“Madelena!” Mae exclaimed, jumping to her feet and rushing to greet her friend. “Jude did not announce you have arrived.”
Madelena returned the welcoming embrace. “I told him to not worry about announcing me.”
“And there is no need,” Maude said, laying the paper down. “You are practically family, Madelena.”
“So?” Madelena asked.
“So, what?” Mae repeated.
“The gossip?”
Mae’s eyes widened. “Oh! You will never believe who is in town. You simply will never believe it.”
“Who?”
“Stefano Mortilini! That’s who.”
“Who?” Madelena replied again.
“Stefano Mortilini!” Mae emphasized again. “You know that handsome young man whose father owns the largest vineyard in all of Italy!”
“Oh.” Madelena’s voice lacked interest.
“Is that all you can say. Oh? I do say. He is looking for a bride, and you would be the perfect bride!”
“Me?” Madelena croaked out, her eyes widening with shock.
“Yes. Why not you? He would get you out of your parents’ house and away from your sisters.”
“What about you?”
A perplexed look crossed Mae’s face. “I never considered that option.”
Madelena snorted as she approached the settee. “Oh, please. That was your entire notion when you spoke of it. You simply wanted to hear me say that I did not want the man before you pursued him.”
“I did not.”
“Yes, you did. If I had said I was interested in Stephano Mortilini, then you would have simply cowed down and allowed me to pursue the man when you are clearly interested. That is your issue, Mae.”
“What is my issue?”
“You are so worried about hurting other’s feelings that you will hide in the shadows to allow others to seek their glories. You are a beautiful woman and need to be seen and seek your own glories. I see no reason why this Stephano Mortilini would not be thrilled to have you interested in him. Why, if you lived in my home with me, then my mother would be in fits because—”
Maude interrupted. “Between you and Madelena, Angela, Flora, Maria and Bella would have no chance at landing a husband.”
Mae gasped. “Mother!”
Maude picked up her saucer of tea. “What? It is the truth. You and Madelena are the most beautiful women in all of Rome. Every ball and soiree we attend, the young men flock to the two of you, leaving the other single young women to wish you never existed. Men love you, and women hate you. It is the curse of beauty, I am afraid.”
“See,” Madelena said. “Even your own mother agrees with me. You need to stop fretting about other people’s feelings.”
“She did not say that,” Mae protested
.
Madelena shrugged. “Depends on your point of view. Now,” Madelena held out her hand to Maude. “I brought your basket.”
“It's perfect!” Mae said, taking the large basket before her mother could grab it. The handle was braided and twisted at the same time. “It will hold my knitting splendidly.”
Maude smiled, shaking her head as she watched her daughter steal the basket she had purchased. “You always make such wonderful baskets. Pity your parents are unaware of your talent.”
Madelena looked at Maude. “You aren’t going to tell them, are you?”
Maude shook her head. “I haven’t spoken to them of your hidden talent. Your father would be furious knowing you were peddling your goods at the docks, and your mother would lock you in your room until she found some poor old sod to marry you off to.”
“Thank you. Now, I’d love to stay and chat, but I must be off.”
Mae stopped admiring her basket and looked sadly at Madelena. “Where are you going?”
Madelena grinned from ear-to-ear. “Papa invited me to come to his office, and then he is going to take me to purchase a dress for Carnival.”
“Really?!” Mae squealed with delight. “Carnival? Wait. What about the dress you have here?”
Madelena nodded. “Yes. Can you believe it? I’ll need that one as well. I thought he might be angry with me when I told him that I wanted a dress to attend. But he wasn’t. It was actually his idea.”
“That’s wonderful. Meet me here Tuesday. We can go together.”
“I will see if I am allowed to go with you. Now, I must be off. I do not want to keep Papa waiting.”
Madelena left her friend’s home and made her way through the streets of Rome to her father’s office. The building was impressive. Large white marble pillars supported the tall four-story building. Intricately carved figures were carved at the top of the posts. Large white steps led to a dark oak door. Two men dressed in solid black stood on the outside of the door. As she approached, one of the men opened the door, and she stepped inside her father’s sanctuary. Men were bustling about talking in hushed tones. Several French soldiers were laughing to her right. Her eyes took in the interior, and it was just as stunning as the outside. Tall white walls and thick, colorful rugs. Brass and crystal light fixtures. Oriental vases and beautiful paintings. No expense was spared. In the back of the building was a large, expensive wooden desk. Behind the desk sat an older gentleman with a receding hairline. She approached the man.
The man peered over his spectacles at Madelena. “May I assist you?”
“Yes. I am here to see my father.”
The man laid down the quill in his hand. “And whom might that be?”
“Antonio Russo.”
The instant her father’s name crossed her lips, the man stood, his eyes roaming over her as if he had just seen a ghost. His eyes came back to her, and she could not shake the notion that he wanted to say something but did not.
“Signorina Russo,” the man finally spoke. “Forgive me. I am just not accustomed to seeing Signore Russo’s family here.”
“That’s quite all right. I am a little shocked myself that Papa asked me to come here.”
The man’s eyes roamed over her one last time before he looked to the left and snapped his fingers. Another man appeared at that time. The second man was intimidating. He was tall and muscular. His eyes were dark, nearly as black as his hair. He had a hawk-like nose and a square jaw.
The older man motioned to the menacing individual. “This is Signore Marco Donati. He is an associate of your father’s. Signore Marco, this is Signore Russo’s daughter…I am sorry, I did not get your name, young lady.”
“Madelena.”
The older man gave a kind smile, his eyes glistening with an unknown emotion causing Madelena to wonder why.
“Madelena,” the older man said in a soft timber. “A beautiful name for a beautiful young lady. I can see why Signore Russo speaks so highly of you. Your presence here has already brightened the halls of this dark, dismal place.”
“You are too kind, signore.”
The man placed a hand to his chest. “I only speak the truth. Now, Signore Marco will take you to your father.”
“Please follow me,” Marco said, motioning to his left.
Madelena’s eyes darted around the building, resembling a cat watching a fluttering bird. Never had she seen such a place. Statues and paintings were everywhere. At the top of the stairs, Marco turned right, and they passed several doors before stopping at the door at the end of the hallway. Marco knocked twice. When no one answered, he knocked again. When no one answered, he opened the door and peered inside. Turning, he addressed Madelena.
“Your father must have stepped out for a moment. Please wait in here, and I will locate him for you.”
“Is this his office?” Madelena asked, entering the room.
“It is. Please make yourself comfortable. I shall not be long.”
The door closed behind her, and a shocked gasp left her. The room was exquisite! Light walls with dark tile floors. Paintings along the walls along with several marble statues. In the back of the room was a tall row of windows with a large, clawfoot desk sitting in front. To each side of the window were palm plants in clay pots. Behind the desk sat a small fig tree. Several leather chairs were scattered about the room along with a settee.
Madelena approached a statue. She had seen many like it throughout Rome. It was of a woman. Her back was facing Madelena, yet the woman was looking coyly over her shoulder. Her left hand was resting upon her right shoulder, holding a sheet to cover her form. The sheet appeared to wrap around the marble statue, exposing the back yet covering the derriere; however, the woman’s legs were exposed.
Madelena reached forward and allowed her hand to run along the woman’s arm. The marble was cool to the touch yet so smooth it did not seem as if it were stone. She stopped her inspection of the statue and decided to have a seat; however, a painting to the right of the desk captured her attention. As she approached, her brows came together. It was an oil painting of a beautiful black-haired woman. The woman was wearing a rose-colored gown that caused her bronze complexion to be more prominent. The woman had soft brown eyes and a petite upturned nose with high cheekbones.
“Beautiful, isn’t she?” Antonio said from the doorway.
Madelena gasped and pivoted to face her father. Her heart hammered in her chest. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to pry. I was just enjoying the artwork in your office.”
Antonio smiled, yet his eyes lacked the sincerity. “I know.” He stopped before Madelena and gazed up at the painting.
“Who is she?” Madelena asked, turning to view the painting again.
“Her name was Francesca Demachi.”
“I don’t recognize the name. Is she someone of importance from our history?”
Antonio’s lip twitched as he turned his attention to his daughter. “More than you know.”
“Then who is she?”
Antonio turned and ignored the question. How was one to tell their daughter that the woman was his lover and her mother? “I am sorry to have kept you waiting. I had a brief, unexpected meeting this morning.”
“That is quite all right, Papa.”
“Good. Now, are you ready to locate you a dress for Carnival?”
Madelena nodded her head, enthusiastically. “Yes, Papa!”
Antonio laughed. “Then we better hurry. The celebration begins in three days, and the seamstresses are already working nonstop.”
“Do you think we can find a dress by then? I mean I realize that I cannot have one made, but do you think they can have alterations completed by then?”
Antonio extended his arm to his daughter. Madelena placed her hand upon the crook of his elbow and allowed her father to escort her from the room. “They will, for me.”
The pair made their way to the shops.
“Which dressmaker was so rude to you yesterday?” Antonio asked.
A vindictive smile pulled Antonio’s lips. “Let's pay her a brief visit, shall we? Make her rue the day she snubbed my daughter.”
“I like that idea.”
Madelena entered Madame Blanche’s first. The instant the bell ran, Blanche came from the back room. Upon seeing Madelena, the smile melted from the woman’s face.
“I told you yesterday, I don’t serve your kind,” Blanche snapped.
“And what exactly is her kind?” Antonio asked from the doorway.
Blanche’s eyes widened. “Signore Russo! I hope this woman does not offend you. She was just leaving.” Blanche looked at Madelena. “Go on. Get out.”
Madelena looked at her father.
“Madame Blanche,” Antonio spoke. “There seems to have been some sort of misunderstanding. This woman is my daughter, and you were quite rude to her yesterday.”
“Your daughter?” Blanche squeaked.
“Yes.”
“I…I…I apologize. I did not realize that she was your daughter, Signore Russo. Allow me to make amends.”
“That is quite all right,” Madelena spoke. “You said my money was no good here. I hope now you realize that you cannot judge a person by their appearance. I had money to purchase items from your store. Now, I would not take anything even if it were free.”
“Signorina Russo. Please allow me to make amends!”
“No.”
Antonio spoke. “Madelena, please wait for me just outside the shop. I need to speak with Madame Blanche.”
Madelena looked at her father. “Very well. But don’t be too long. I still need to get my dress.”
“I won’t be long. Just city business.”
Blanche nervously swallowed as she watched Madelena walk out the door. Knots formed in her stomach. Russo was not a man to anger, and now she had shunned his daughter. The outcome would not be positive.
Antonio simply stared at Blanche, his dark eyes unyielding, allowing the dressmaker to squirm under his intense gaze. After a few moments, he spoke. “You are behind on your taxes, Madame Blanche.”