Masquerade

by Kylie Fornasier

‘Done,’ said Orelia, holding up the sheet of paper. Pinpricks of light shone through the holes.

  Angelique laughed, deliberately ignoring her sister’s remark, a defense she’d used since she was a child. ‘Wonderful, Orelia. Now you need to choose the color of your thread. And when you’re finished, we will arrange that coffee date we were talking about.’ She sent Orelia a slow deliberate wink. Sharing her secret with Orelia had been a very smart move. Now that Orelia was her accomplice, Bastian was as good as hers.

  Curse Angelique. Curse Luca. All Veronica had wanted was a quiet afternoon curled up in the sitting room with her book, but now thanks to her sister, all she could think about was Luca. Last night had gone terribly, aside from her short rendezvous with Alessandro in a secluded corner of the courtyard downstairs. She had gotten no closer to discovering Luca’s secret and at the end of the night her father had congratulated her on making such a good impression on him. Apparently, Luca had complemented her father on raising such intelligent young women, as if her intellect was all her father’s work!

  Across from Veronica, Angelique was instructing Orelia in the next step of lace-making, the both of them so carefree. Veronica’s thoughts were interrupted by a knock on the sitting room door. A moment later, the door opened and Maria appeared. ‘Signor Boccassio is here requesting to see you, Miss Veronica. Will you receive him?’

  The book fell from Veronica’s lap to the floor as she sat suddenly upright. What was Luca doing back here so quickly?

  ‘Are you all right, miss? You look unwell,’ said Maria.

  Veronica nodded. ‘Yes, you may send him in.’

  As Maria disappeared to collect Luca, Veronica returned her attention to her book, trying to put on her best act of disinterest for when Luca walked into the room. As she waited, her concern gave way to nervous excitement. This was her chance, perhaps her last chance. The air seemed to be laced with secrets today. She would discover Luca’s.

  When Veronica looked up, it was with a smile. Luca was in the open doorway. His periwig, that was high in the front with a little bag for the hair at the back of the neck, sat a fraction askew. He greeted them all politely.

  ‘Signor Boccassio,’ said Veronica. ‘I am pleased to see that you are not wet. I take it your gondoliers are back in your service.’

  ‘Very much so. In fact, I begged them never to leave me again,’ said Luca.

  Veronica laughed. ‘Please take a seat. To what do we owe this pleasure?’

  Angelique looked between the two with bafflement like someone who was seeing two moons in the sky. Veronica ignored her and kept her attention on Luca, who had sat down upon the armchair facing her. She had not realized just how tall and broad-shouldered he was until he filled the small space of the armchair.

  ‘I have lost something very dear to me,’ he answered. ‘I think I may have left it here last night at the banquet. It is a small leather-bound notebook. It contains important information. I’ve looked everywhere else. This is the only other place it could be. Please tell me that one of the servants has found it.’

  Veronica’s heart beat rapidly and she fought to maintain a casual air. ‘I’m afraid none of the servants have informed me that they have come across it, yet. Do you remember which room you may have left it in?’

  Luca sighed. ‘No.’

  Veronica stood up. ‘Let me go and alert the servants to begin searching. They will find your notebook.’ Veronica walked out of the room with controlled steps, but the moment she closed the door she broke into a run. She did not plan on alerting the servants, just one servant: Anna. She was the most trustworthy.

  She found Anna cleaning the windows in Angelique’s room. ‘Signor Boccassio lost his notebook somewhere here last night. It’s small and . . .’ Veronica’s sentence trailed off when she saw Anna pull the notebook out of her apron pocket.

  ‘I found it this morning when dusting in the library. Who did you say it belonged to?’

  Veronica did not answer. She took the notebook from Anna’s hand and flicked through the pages and pages of scrolling handwriting. Guilty confessions, most likely. She needed to read it, even if only the first few pages, but her eyes could not make sense of the words under such pressure. ‘He is expecting me to return any moment,’ she said, almost to herself. If only Anna knew how to write...

  Snapping the notebook shut, Veronica handed it back to Anna with a glint in her eye. ‘Take this to Signor Paolo at the bookshop around the corner,’ she said. ‘Have him copy as much as he can in half an hour. Neat, legible handwriting. Tell him I will pay handsomely later. Make sure he understands that absolute secrecy is required. And do not let Maria know where you are going or what you are doing. When you return, leave the copy in my bedroom and bring the notebook to the sitting room. Signor Boccassio is waiting there for it, but he must not know about your trip to Signor Paolo. You must pretend that you have just found his notebook. And do hurry.’

  Anna looked as if the instructions had been given to her in Arabic, but she nodded and hurried out of Angelique’s room with the notebook.

  Veronica turned the other way and walked back to the sitting room. Her mind spun with all the things that could go wrong with her plan: Signor Paolo could be out. Anna could return late. Maria could catch Anna. With all these devastating scenarios playing out in her mind, Veronica walked back into the sitting room with an expression to match the internal drama.

  Luca, who was on his hands and knees searching beneath the settee, looked up at her as she walked into the sitting room. ‘Is something wrong?’

  Veronica blinked a few times. ‘Forgive me, my mind was elsewhere. Have you found your notebook?’

  He rose to his feet and dusted off his hands. ‘No, it’s not in here. May I search another room? The library, perhaps.’

  ‘The servants are taking care of it. It is better that we stay out of their way. I’m sure they’ll find your notebook before the hour is up. How about a game of cards while we wait? Angelique? Orelia?’

  Angelique stood up. ‘Orelia and I were planning on taking a ride down the Grand Canal. It was lovely to see you, Signor Boccassio.’

  Orelia stood and smiled in her own particular way, requiring no accompanying words. Then the two of them left.

  ‘I played enough of cards last night,’ said Luca. ‘How about a game of chess instead?’

  ‘Certainly, though I must warn you that I am undefeated at chess.’

  ‘Then I must warn you that I like a challenge,’ said Luca with a grin.

  Veronica removed the chess set from a chest beneath the window and began setting it up on the low table between two armchairs. ‘I always play with white.’

  ‘How convenient, I always play with black. What a magnificent chessboard!’

  ‘The wood is inlaid with bone and chestnut. It has been passed down through our family since the sixteenth century.’

  Before Luca had finished placing his final piece on the board, Veronica had already made her first move. ‘You have a very competitive nature,’ said Luca, moving a pawn. ‘It’s not often one meets such a spirited woman.’

  ‘If you aim to distract me with insults, you are wasting your time.’ To prove her point, Veronica took Luca’s bishop. ‘Your turn.’

  They played for several minutes in silence, exchanging victorious smiles. ‘Do you think we should check on the progress of the servants?’ said Luca, beginning to stand up.

  ‘Please sit down, it has only been . . . half an hour,’ said Veronica, glancing at the clock above the fireplace. In her mind, she quickly calculated where Anna might be. It was a five- minute walk to the bookshop, then she had allowed half an hour for Signor Paolo to copy as much as he could, and then there was the five-minute return trip.

  ‘I’m sure it won’t be much longer,’ said Veronica. ‘If you don’t mind me asking, what does the notebook contain that is so important?’<
br />
  ‘Nothing that anyone else would consider important.’ Luca paused, studying the board. ‘Check.’

  The next few moves of the game were played with the seriousness of art collectors at an auction. Neither Veronica nor Luca took their eyes off the chessboard. Finally, Luca leaned back into the armchair with a big smile. ‘Checkmate.’

  Veronica inhaled sharply, as her eyes quickly scanned the board. Before she could say a single word, there was a knock at the door and Anna entered the room. The notebook was in her hand.

  Luca jumped to his feet and turned towards the door. Behind his back, Veronica looked at Anna with a rigid and questioning expression. Anna gave an almost imperceptible nod and Veronica’s face softened into a smile.

  ‘My most sincere thanks,’ said Luca, as he strode over to Anna. He took the notebook from her and tucked it into the pocket of his dress-coat. ‘You did not read it, did you?’

  Anna shook her head.

  Luca smiled and withdrew a small bag of coins. He handed it to Anna. ‘A small token of my appreciation.’

  ‘I cannot accept this,’ said Anna, weakly shaking her head.

  Pushing the bag into her hands, Luca said, ‘I insist.’

  Anna offered her thanks many times over before hurrying from the room. Veronica walked over and stood beside Luca in the doorway. ‘You really shouldn’t have done that. Now she will expect something in return each time she finds my missing stockings.’

  ‘And your missing affections?’ said Luca.

  Feeling her cheeks flush with annoyance, Veronica opened her mouth to offer a retort.

  ‘I must be going,’ he said. ‘I enjoyed our game of chess and look forward to a re-match.’

  Veronica clenched her teeth, then realized that while she did not win their game of chess, she had won the real game. With a smile, she reached out and patted the place on his chest where the notebook lay concealed. ‘I’m just glad your secrets are safe.’

  The first thing Anna did after she left the sitting room was dash upstairs to the fifth floor. The small bag felt heavy in her pocket and she pressed her hand against it to stop the coins from clinking as she moved. If only she could do something to quiet the loud beating of her heart, which to her ears sounded like the bells in St Mark’s Square that tolled the day away.

  If she were a better person, she would not have accepted Signor Boccassio’s gift. It had not been her idea to deceive him, but she had taken part in Veronica’s scheme, whatever it was, and now she also had his money. The only thing that stopped her from turning around and returning it to him was her loyalty to Veronica and the fear of crossing her. Since there was no going back, Anna decided that she would use the money for good. She hadn’t counted it yet, but it felt like it might be enough to help her sister.

  Anna made it to her bedroom door without being seen by Maria or anyone else. Even with the promise that the money brought, Anna’s spirits sank the moment she entered the room. As always, Emilia lay in bed as motionless as a puppet with its strings cut.

  Closing the door, Anna went to sit on the edge of the bed. ‘You will not believe what has happened,’ she said, gently shaking her sister’s shoulder. She told Emilia the whole story,

  only stopping to pull the bag dramatically from her pocket. It was like she was performing all the roles of a play for Emilia, in an attempt to ignite a spark of hope.

  Finally, Anna came to counting the money. In truth, she had put off this moment in fear that it contained not nearly as much money as she expected. She was happily surprised. ‘Ten ducats, Emilia! I’ll use it all to help you get better,’ said Anna, kissing Emilia’s forehead. ‘I’ll go see a doctor tomorrow, I promise.’

  And then, for the first time in many weeks, Anna sang.

  The following afternoon, Anna found an excuse to leave the palace. It was Veronica who gave her the excuse, actually. She had asked Anna to go to the market and buy her more ink, even though she still had three full pots sitting on her desk.

  Most people thought Veronica was cold and unpleasant but Anna often glimpsed a side of her that was warm and considerate. Quite often, she sent Anna on false errands to allow her to get out of the palace. Anna assumed that this time Veronica thought she would buy herself something nice with Signor Boccassio’s gift. How she longed to buy herself a sweet perfume or small jeweled box, but she had made her sister a promise.

  Anna walked to the Rialto where she found an idle gondolier waiting for business. ‘I need to find an honest and discreet doctor. Do you know of one?’ she asked him.

  ‘Isaac Stein in the Ghetto, miss,’ replied the gondolier. ‘My sister suffered from nosebleeds for years until she visited Signor Stein and he cleared her right up.’

  ‘Please take me there.’ Anna paid the gondolier and climbed aboard. The gondola glided down the Grand Canal as far as San Marcuola, where it turned down a canal. A few minutes later, the gondola stopped alongside the water steps at the foot of a bridge. Anna had been to the Ghetto on a few occasions, mostly as a child when her father had often pawned their clothing and rags there. It was not just a place the poor frequented, though. Angelique and Veronica often saw plays there during the day.

  The gondolier assisted Anna in disembarking. ‘You’ll find Signor Stein’s office in the passageway,’ he said, pointing to a building straight ahead. ‘Shall I wait for you?’

  Anna nodded and stepped out into the large oddly shaped square. What struck Anna as most odd was the height of the buildings; some were as high as nine storeys. The Contarini palace was five storeys high; so much space for so few people. But these buildings, with the shops of moneylenders, second-hand dealers and pawnbrokers on the ground floor and residences above, were home to so many people. And though taller, the buildings had none of the opulence of the palaces on the Grand Canal. They were very plain, built mostly of wood and unadorned white Istrian stone.

  Anna found the doctor’s office without difficultly and knocked on the door. For a moment there was no answer and Anna feared she had wasted her time. Just as she was about to turn away, the door was opened to reveal a girl about her age.

  ‘Good afternoon,’ said Anna. ‘I’m here to see Signor Stein about a medical concern. Is he available?’

  ‘Come in,’ said the girl. She indicated for Anna to take a seat in front of a table. ‘Wait here, please.’

  Anna sat down and folded her hands in her lap. The interior of the office was nicer than the outside suggested. The floor was covered with a thick rug and a large painting of the Rialto Bridge hung on the wall behind the table. Anna was studying the small figure standing on the bridge in the painting when a bearded man appeared through a doorway. He wore a small yellow cap on his head that was required of all Jews by Venetian law. ‘How can I assist you, miss?’ he said, taking a seat.

  ‘I am here about my sister. She is very ill.’

  The doctor picked up a quill and drew a piece of paper to him. ‘What is the nature of her condition?’

  ‘She will not get out of bed. She hardly speaks. She hardly eats.’

  The doctor paused thoughtfully and dipped his quill in the inkpot. ‘Will not or cannot get out of bed?’

  ‘I think she lacks the will.’

  ‘Does she have any other symptoms of illness or infection? Fever? Rash? Pain?’

  ‘No, nothing. I gave her Teriaca, but it did not help.’

  ‘How long has this been going on?’

  Anna thought for a moment, remembering the day her sister had come to her. ‘Over a month, as far as I know, maybe longer.’

  ‘Does she experience hallucinations?’

  Anna shook her head.

  ‘Where is your sister now?’

  ‘In the servants’ quarters of one of the palaces of the Grand Canal. I am keeping her there without the knowledge of my master so I cannot tell you which one yet. I will need you t
o attend her at night in secret, when the rest of the household is asleep or out.’

  The doctor gave her an apologetic look. ‘I would like to help you, but the ghetto’s gates are locked at night. We are not permitted to leave. And even if there was a way, I cannot take the risk, I have a family to provide for.’

  ‘Is there anything you can do?’ said Anna, not attempting to hide the desperation in her voice.

  ‘Without seeing her, I can only presume she has vapors, a condition of low spirits caused by vapors from the uterus, which affect the brain. There is a root from China said to cure this condition. I can send you to a pharmacist who can acquire it, but is very expensive and difficult to procure.’

  ‘How expensive?’

  ‘Around one hundred ducats.’

  Anna buried her face in her hands. ‘I don’t have that much money.’

  ‘Perhaps you could pawn some of your belongings.’

  Anna shook her head meekly. ‘It wouldn’t be nearly enough.’

  ‘Could you not ask your master for assistance?’

  Anna shook her head again.

  ‘I’m sorry, I wish there was something I could do. Sometimes these conditions cure themselves. Make sure she gets plenty of sunlight and try to get her moving so the blood can flow.’

  ‘I’ll try,’ said Anna, rising to her feet. ‘How much do you require for this consultation?’ she said, withdrawing her coin purse.

  The doctor shook his head. ‘Pay me nothing. If you find enough money for the medicine, come and see me again.’

  ‘Thank you, sir,’ said Anna tiredly. She pulled her veil back over her face and went to step out the door. ‘Will you please keep my visit a secret?’ she said, pausing in the doorway. Even though she had not mentioned who she worked for, if word got around that a servant was keeping someone hidden in one of the great households, rooms might be searched and then...