She couldn't believe it. There had to be some mistake. Finally she called the Minister of Defense.
'I am sorry, Principessa,' he told her with a soft but final tone of voice. 'Things are happening.'
'Yes, indeed they are,' she snapped. 'I can't even travel! I'm a prisoner here.'
He laughed soothingly. 'No, Principessa. It is just that your husband is handling a very delicate mission, and for that reason the powers that be think it best that you stay in Italy. Please, feel free to travel all you want within this country. There are many beautiful things to see.'
'Thank you,' she said sarcastically, and slammed down the receiver. She closed her eyes and took a series of deep breaths in order to calm her nerves. For a moment, she felt compelled to go to the American embassy, but she realized the futility of that.
She was no longer an American. There was nothing they would be able to do for her.
Whichever way she looked at it, one thing was clear.
She was a prisoner.
The following day, Tuesday, was when the letter arrived. Charlotte-Anne always looked forward to receiving news from home, and went to read it outside under the shade trees beside the pool. As usual, it was written in her mother's slanting, elegant script, but she immediately noticed that the words weren't neatly formed as if at times Elizabeth-Anne's hand had been shaking.
This time, it was a letter which brought pain and shock into her life.
July 21, 1936
My darling Charlotte-Anne,
How I miss you, especially now of all times! And oh, how it grieves me to have to write you this. It's been two weeks now since I've written last, longer than any other time between letters, and I know you must have wondered why. Now the bad news must come.
Your sister Rebecca died yesterday. I know you will have to read and reread that terrible sentence again and again before you can believe it. She was hospitalized with pneumonia, but there was nothing they could do to save her. Oh, Charlotte-Anne, what am I going to do? You, your brother, and your two sisters are everything in my life. A woman's children are the legacy of herself and her husband. It makes this loss doubly painful for me. It was as though not only Rebecca, but your father, too, had died all over again. I don't know if I'll ever be able to get over this loss. I know time is supposed to heal all wounds, but I don't know if that's really true. Still today, I sometimes relive old wounds I received in my childhood. Nothing ever heals, not completely at least. The scars always remain.
When the hospital called and we rushed over, I could not believe it. Rebecca looked so at peace, so restful. I was certain it was a trick, or some kind of joke. She looked as if she were sleeping.
Larry is so good to me, especially now. It's strange, you know. He isn't your real father, but he feels like a father toward you all. Rebecca's death seems to have hit him harder than anyone else. Last night, when I thought he was asleep, I woke to find him crying.
It is heartbreaking, but just last week Rebecca was starting to make plans to visit you next summer. It would have been so nice for you and she to have seen each other, but I realize that Italy is far away. Do not try to blame yourself for not having seen her in so long. We are all mere mortals, and we cannot see what the future holds for us. There is a power beyond our comprehension in whose hands our destinies lie.
I know from your painful letters in which you confided to me about your tragic miscarriages, that all is not perfect with you either. Life, alas, is never perfect. I know now that if you and Rebecca had been able to see more of each other, it would have made no difference over life or death in the end. It just seems such a terrible shame - and hurts so much - that one so young can so suddenly be struck down. She was only nineteen! How little we still all know.
Dearest darling, I know how you must feel reading this, but please take heart. Your sister was a good person. I know that she is in heaven and someday we will all be reunited. I don't believe that this is just the hopeful rambling of a woman in much pain. There is a greater design to the world than we know - there must be - and in the depths of my heart I know that, no matter how he tests us, God is good.
Perhaps this coming year, if you cannot come to visit us, Larry and I will at least come to Rome. He has business interests in Europe which, due to the international situation, he thinks he might do well to liquidate; perhaps we can combine business with a short visit with you. I would really love to do that. How I ache to see you again and put my arms around you, and hug you.
Take care, my darling, for Larry says all is not well in the world right now, and I have learned to trust his judgment. If there is anything we can do to help you, please let me know.
Your loving Mamma
Charlotte-Anne let the letter drop to her lap. She covered her face with her hands and wept. It was doubly cruel that Luigi was not at her side to comfort her. She wanted him to hold her, to murmur soothing words, to share some of this burden with her. But he wouldn't be back from Germany for two months. Only now did it occur to her that out of the hundreds of people she knew in Rome, there was not one close friend she could call upon in a time of need.
She had to suffer the burden of Rebecca's loss by herself. And as she did so, she realized it was more important than ever to get her passport and receive permission to visit with her family.
But even when Luigi returned, that dream proved impossible to attain.
'I'm sorry, cara,' he told her, his voice gentle and sympathetic, 'but they are afraid.'
'Afraid? They?' She stared at him, 'Who are they, and why are they afraid?'
'Because of my job. It's highly sensitive, you know that, and with things going the way they are in the world, they are afraid that if I told you anything, perhaps even talked in my sleep, and you let any information slip out, however innocently, great harm could come to this country.'
His words infuriated her, but she knew that there was nothing that could be done.
If a di Fontanesi couldn't pull those kinds of strings, then who could?
15
Elizabeth-Anne and Larry arrived in Rome during the first week of April, 1937. Charlotte-Anne was doubly delighted. Not only was she going to see them again at long last, but Luigi had juggled his schedule and managed to take an entire week off in honor of the occasion. That, she well knew, was no small matter, and she was touched by his thoughtfulness. She felt as though it was a combined family reunion and second honeymoon.
Luigi came along with her to meet the train at the Terminal Railroad Station. The moment it chugged in, Charlotte-Anne caught sight of Larry and her mother leaning out of the window of a first class carriage, and tears of happiness rolled down her cheeks. She'd missed them both more than she'd realized. Her mother looked so different, she noticed with surprise. She seemed older, but somehow less distant. Charlotte-Anne had to remind herself that she hadn't seen her mother in six years; Elizabeth-Anne was just forty-three and she was now twenty-three.
'Mamma,' she sobbed as soon as the train jerked to a halt and Elizabeth-Anne came hurrying down the steps. They fell into each other's arms and held their embrace for a long time.
Elizabeth-Anne was crying, too. 'Look what a sight we make,' she said, laughing through her tears as she dabbed first her daughter's eyes and then her own with a white-lace handkerchief. 'Oh, darling, let me look at you!' She held her daughter at arm's length and shook her head. 'I still can't believe that it's really you. It's been so long.' She pressed her cheek against Charlotte-Anne's.
'I know.' Charlotte-Anne smiled and pulled away from her. 'And Mamma, this is Luigi.'
He stood tall and dashing in his uniform, then bowed somewhat formally. Elizabeth-Anne broke the ice by kissing and hugging him warmly. Then, as Larry shook his hand and hugged Charlotte-Anne, a porter picked up their luggage and followed them out to the waiting Daimler. The two women walked arm in arm. The men led the way, taking the opportunity to get acquainted.
'I know you invited us to stay at the villa,' Elizabeth-Anne sai
d, 'and we really do appreciate it. I hope you won't be offended that we made reservations at the Excelsior.'
'The Excelsior?' Elizabeth-Anne looked at her with dismay. 'But why stay at a hotel? We have plenty of empty guestrooms at the villa.'
'Thank you, darling, but no,' Elizabeth-Anne smiled. They had reached the car and waited for the chauffeur to fold down the jump seats. Then Elizabeth-Anne ducked inside and waited for Charlotte-Anne to follow. 'It's nothing personal, I assure you. I really do prefer to stay at the hotel.'
'Don't forget,' Larry grinned as he and Luigi took a seat on the leather-upholstered jump seats facing them, 'hotels are in your mother's blood.'
Elizabeth-Anne leaned forward and slapped his thigh good-naturedly. 'There he goes again! He loves to make it sound as though the hotels are all I care about.' Then her tone grew more serious. 'But really, I've been waiting a long time for just this opportunity, and I intend to take full advantage of it. It isn't every year that I get the chance to come overseas to spy on the grand hotels of Europe. I've made up my mind to stay at every one I can, in order to see what needs improving with our own. I can only do that by experiencing first hand what the competition is offering.-'
'In that case,' Charlotte-Anne said, 'I can't very well argue with you, Mamma, can I?'
No,' Elizabeth-Anne said with a laugh, 'I'm afraid you can't.'
After Elizabeth-Anne and Larry got settled into their suite at the Excelsior, Charlotte-Anne sent the car around to bring them to the villa for dinner. She had done herself proud, bringing out the 1878 Ginori china with its cobalt- blue and gilt ribbon edges, the Baccarat crystal, the di Fontanesi heirloom silver, and the heavy linen embroidered by the Sisters in the Convent of Our Lady of Peace. The candles cast a soft, flattering light, and everyone had dressed for dinner. She had instructed the cook to prepare a true Southern Italian feast, made up of the authentic peasant dishes that were her favorites. And what food it was! The generous platter of antipasto, and the chilled sliced eel on beds of shaved ice were followed by Pasta alla Siciliana - spaghetti baked with tomato sauce, eggplant, zucchini, and olives. Then came the Saltimbocca Romana, 'sandwiches' consisting of outer layers of veal and prosciutto, and filled with melted mozzarella cheese. The red wine came from the di Fontanesis' own vineyards, and the fresh baked bread came straight from the oven, garlicky and steaming hot. For dessert there was a choice of tortoni, spumoni or ripe fresh fruit, as well as cups of thick, rich black espresso.
'If I eat another bite,' Larry announced as he wiped his lips and then placed his crumpled napkin on his plate, 'I think I'll burst.'
Charlotte-Anne smiled. As she looked around the table, she was filled with joy. Except for Regina and Zaccheus, everyone she loved was seated in her home for dinner. It seemed too good to be true.
'So you are not returning to the United States together?' Luigi asked politely as they headed back into the salon.
'No.' Elizabeth-Anne shook her head. 'Larry has some business to attend to in Germany, but I'm not going along. He doesn't want me to.'
'It's clear Germany is a powder keg right now,' Larry said worriedly. 'The situation is much too volatile. I don't think anyone should go there unless it's necessary.'
Charlotte-Anne glanced at Luigi to try to read his expression, but his face was studiously blank. He crossed over to the fruitwood sideboard, and while a servant came in with a tray of liquors in tiny glasses, he picked up his humidor, opened it, and brought it over to Larry. Larry selected a cigar, sniffed it appreciatively, and rattled it next to his ear before lighting it. Luigi merely selected one at random and lit it. The two men sat down together on facing easy chairs to discuss politics while Charlotte-Anne and Elizabeth-Anne sat on a couch and caught up on the latest news of family and friends.
'Zaccheus has grown so tall for a thirteen-year-old,' Elizabeth-Anne said proudly. 'And he's become so handsome. I've brought you a picture of him, but I left it at the hotel. I'll give it to you tomorrow. You'd never recognize your brother. He's the spitting image of his father.'
'Has he decided what he is going to do yet?'
'Well, I eventually want him to go to college and join the hotel chain, but he's dead set against it.' Elizabeth-Anne shook her head in disbelief. 'He wants to go to Annapolis.'
'The Navy?'
Elizabeth-Anne nodded. 'He won't let us talk him out of it.'
'You're afraid of all the troubles brewing, too, aren't you Mamma?'
Elizabeth-Anne's face wore a sprained expression. 'Yes,' she said quietly, 'I am. I'm especially afraid for Zaccheus. If another war does come, and Larry thinks it's inevitable . . . ' She shrugged eloquently. 'Well, I'm a mother. No mother wants to see her son go off and lay his life on the line, no matter what the reason.'
'I understand how you feel,' Charlotte-Anne said. 'I feel the same way about Luigi. His being in the military . . . ' she paused, reluctant to worry her mother with the truth.
'Anyway! Enough of this maudlin talk.' She sat up. 'How's Regina?'
'She sends you her love. Her graduation from medical school was wonderful; we combined it with a celebration of her twenty-fifth birthday. I wish you had been there. She's on her way to being a fine pediatrician, you know. But I must admit I'm not looking forward to her marriage. Her fiancé's orthopedic practice is in San Francisco, so she'll join him there.' She looked pained. 'It's so hard for a mother to watch her children scatter all over the place. Rebecca is dead; Zaccheus wants to join the military. Now Regina's going to be across the country and you're here across the ocean . . . None of my children want anything to do with Hale Hotels.' She shook her head. 'And yet I know if you try to keep your loved ones on too tight a rein, and don't let them do what they want, you chase them away all the faster.'
'You didn't chase me away, Mamma,' Charlotte-Anne said softly. 'I fell in love.'
'I know you did.' Elizabeth-Anne smiled and squeezed Charlotte-Anne's hand. Her voice dropped to a whisper. 'And I can see why. Luigi is awfully handsome.'
They both stole a sideways glance at him and smiled, but their good spirits soon faded as they listened to the men's conversation.
'You keep referring vaguely to Germany's problems. So what,' Luigi was saying between puffs of blue smoke from his cigar, 'kind of problems do you think Germany has?'
Larry smiled crookedly, without humor. His one eye watched Luigi intently. 'Hitler.'
'But do you not think the Germans want Hitler?'
Larry sat back, making himself more comfortable. 'The way I see it, they haven't much choice. Not anymore, at least.' He blew out another thick stream of blue smoke. For a moment he studied his cigar in silence. 'Hitler is now fully entrenched in power. It's too late to do anything about that now. He'll never step down voluntarily. And so far, Germany's economy has been so bad that the people are under the mistaken impression that he's their only salvation. Besides, he's claiming to bring dignity back to Germany by repudiating the Versailles treaty and the reparations agreements, and by remilitarizing the Rhineland. The Germans look upon him as their savior. And why not? They're desperate. And in their desperation, they are unable to see things clearly. They do not see that in the long run, all he can really bring them is despair.'
'I have been to Germany quite often,' Luigi said casually. 'Il Duce and the Fuhrer are strengthening ties.'
'And both Germany and Italy are supporting Franco, I know, but I think the only result of the Spanish Civil War will be a compounding of an already tragic situation. Hundreds of thousands, even millions, are going to die.'
'In Spain?' Luigi asked curiously.
Larry shook his head slowly, his expression grim. 'I think you know better than that.'
Luigi shrugged noncommittally and smoked on in silence.
'In Spain,' Larry said. 'And in all of Europe. There will be much bloodshed, I'm afraid. Bloodshed like there has never been before.'
'But why do you think it will involve all of Europe?'
'I've listened to Hitler's s
peeches.' Larry's voice was quiet but ominous. 'Of course, there are those who wave it off as the ranting and raving of a lunatic. And there are others who simply scoff or laugh at him.' He sat forward, his body tensed. 'Personally, I don't subscribe to either opinion. Or perhaps I would, to both, if the situation weren't so deadly serious. Hitler's out to do what he preaches, you mark my word. And he is a very persuasive personality.'
'Then perhaps people shouldn't listen to him so closely,' Luigi suggested. 'Perhaps he is simply telling them what they want to hear.'
'Is that what you think?' Larry asked, staring at him steadily.
Luigi did not reply. For a moment, they all sat quietly in the growing, uncomfortable silence.
Charlotte-Anne, ever the perfect hostess, knew from experience just when it was time to change the subject. She sat up straight and clapped her hands together. 'I have an idea,' she said brightly, intending not only to break the silence, but to keep her mother in Rome longer. 'What if Mamma stays here while Larry goes to Germany? Then you can both meet here for another week-long stay before returning to the States?'
Elizabeth-Anne shook her head. 'Thank you, dear, but no. We've worked out our schedule and it leaves little leeway for extending our trip. We can't stay here that long. We've both got to be getting back as soon as possible. And it's as I said before, I'm keen on seeing what the grand hotels of Europe have to offer. From here I'm going on to Venice to stay at both the Danieli and the Gritti Palace, to Paris for a look at the Georges Cinq, the Ritz, the Crillon, and the Plaza Athenee, and London for the Ritz and Claridge's. Then I'm sailing home from England, and Larry's going from Germany. I think it's high time New York had a world class hotel of its own, don't you?'
'There are some fine hotels in New York,' Luigi commented diplomatically.
Elizabeth-Anne surveyed him with raised eyebrows. 'Some fine ones, yes,' she corrected him, never one to mince words. 'But a truly legendary hotel? No, we don't have one of those. And I intend to give the city one. When we bought the Shelburne Hotel. I had plans for it, and now I intend to see them to fruition. I'm going to renovate the entire building, top to bottom, down to every last room. It will be the 'flagship' of the entire chain, and I'm even renaming it. It will be the Hale Palace.'
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