Just as he was wondering where to go, the door opened and a Roman goddess beckoned. He followed her down the staircase, and saw Charlie emerge from another door; looking as dazed as he felt.
Dr Hawley awaited them downstairs. “Come, gentlemen,” he said. “Your beds await you in the villa. I think in the light of your nocturnal activities, it is permissible for you to be excused the first lesson of the day.”
The two lads looked at each other and silently followed their tutor through the door. Last night was an unexpected lesson, which they would never forget. On other occasions, they had seen the system of aqueducts, transporting water across the city. In the bagnio, they sampled the delights of the heated springs.
Joshua vowed never to underestimate his tutor again. He could not, because anyone who could rise refreshed from a night at the bagnio deserved his respect. On the other hand, maybe he only went for the bath. It was too perplexing a subject on which to waste time.
After a leisurely luncheon, their tutor said, “I trust you both slept well, gentlemen?”
“Yes, sir,” they said with a broad grin. “Extremely well.”
“That is good, because today, I would like you to commit your recollections of the Villa of Hadrian to your notebooks, and then recall your thoughts on the Mount of Vesuvius and the lost city of Pompeii.”
It was no good thinking their knowledge of Dr Hawley’s nocturnal visits meant they would be given extra leisure time.
“Next week, I thought we might consider visiting Lombardy, the area captured by Charlemagne. I don’t know if I have mentioned this was quite my favourite part of history.”
Many times, thought Joshua, stifling a yawn.
“The trouble with youth,” Dr Hawley said in the driest of voices, “is that it is wasted on the young. You will both need more stamina, if you are to survive as army officers.”
It sounded as if their tutor was making fun of their tiredness. Surely, even he must have been young once.
Charlie looked to be in the same state he was.
Joshua could not remember drinking any wine so the aromatic fragrances of the oils must have melted his bones. He closed his eyes for a minute…
Then he realised Dr Hawley was still talking.
“It is fortunate I sent my latest report on your progress a few days ago…”
What did he mean? Last night applied equally to Dr Hawley as for himself and Charlie. Then he realised he must have missed something his tutor said.
“If you wish to repeat the pleasures of last night, you must be aware of the hazards to your health and be prepared. I would be failing in my duty if I did not warn you that one must take precautions to avoid disease. It is something you must remember when you are soldiers.”
Joshua was stunned. He could not imagine having such a conversation at Linmore. Charlie’s expression told of the same degree of surprise. Then it dawned that Dr Hawley was taking advantage of their stupor to say things he did not normally say.
“You must beware another time of allowing curiosity to lead you into temptation. It is fortunate I was there last night to ensure your safety.”
How could he say that when he was already at the bagnio when they arrived? And it was obvious he was known.
“I think it would be safe to exclude the events of last night from our next monthly report home, don’t you, gentlemen?”
Joshua and Charlie nodded in mute agreement.
“Where was I? Ah, yes, Charlemagne, and our visit to Lombardy. I think that would be a fitting place to end our visit to Italy. Then we must set arrangements in motion for our journey home.”
CHAPTER 20
Two days after their nocturnal adventure, they received invitations to a ridotto at the residence of an Italian diplomat. Given a choice, Joshua and Charlie would have foregone the experience in favour of another visit to the bagnio, but it seemed some unknown person had especially requested their presence – almost like a royal command.
The Villa Borghese was a mansion about which they had heard on their study tour, but not been permitted to enter. They had seen many museums, but this was a family home, with the finest art collection in the city.
Usually Sergeant Percival provided them in advance with information about the entertainments they attended. On this occasion, all he could elicit was that the wife of one of the family of diplomats was reputed to be the most beautiful woman in Rome.
“Ah well,” said Charlie with a laugh. “Bring on the ladies, and let us see them. As long as there’s one for each of us, we’ll be all right.”
Doctor Hawley’s reason for attending had less to do with dancing than a curiosity to see the house where family connections of Pope Alexander lived. Having studied the subject in detail, Joshua and Charlie knew what that meant.
The staff at the British Embassy advised them on the mode of travel, and sent a carriage to transport them to their destination. The first intimation of the grandeur ahead came when the coach turned into the grounds and they saw the vast cavalcade lined up waiting to discharge the guests at the entrance.
So stately was the pace, they had ample time to admire the extensive grounds through which they passed. To catch a tantalising glimpse of shimmering water or a folly through the trees, and wish they could explore; to see a riot of colour and breathe in the almost hypnotic scent of the flowering shrubs that bloomed to perfusion, and observe the crisp white lines of the mansion with five arches at the entrance. It was magnificent.
When they finally moved inside, they found that the reception hall had marble walls and fluted columns, and was wonderfully cool after the enforced wait in the carriage.
While Dr Hawley enumerated the artistic treasures of Caravaggio, Titian and Rubens that he hoped to see; Joshua looked around with a sense of anticipation tinged with trepidation. It was a strange feeling for he had moved comfortably in aristocratic and diplomatic circles in Athens and other parts of Rome, and yet the elaborate invitation to the function that specified his name, came from an unknown source.
Before them and amongst the guests that followed, there was a vast array of elaborate masquerade costumes, while others wore fancy dress, and some plain domino cloaks in numerous colours. All were incognito and yet Joshua felt conspicuous.
Not being disposed to vainglory, Doctor Hawley wore a powdered wig, mask, and a black flowing cloak over his evening suit. He walked at Joshua and Charlie’s side as they ascended a magnificent marble staircase, and stood waiting in line for the dignitaries to receive them. With the sheer volume of people, it was difficult to do more than bow and shuffle past the unknown people of importance – whoever they were, for they wore masks like everyone else.
Once the introductions were complete, their tutor left them to circulate and find their friends. They guessed he would spend the evening contemplating the artwork, and not reappear until the lure of the supper gong enticed him towards the Orangerie and adjoining terrace for the cold collation.
With the late invitation, there was little time for them to prepare for the occasion. Beneath his black domino cloak and mask, Charlie wore a bottle-green satin evening coat, with knee breeches, lace cravat and gold interwoven waistcoat, whilst Joshua favoured midnight blue, an embroidered silver-grey satin waistcoat, with his cape and mask of a darker hue.
Normally, they wore their hair au naturel. On this occasion, they opted for powdered wigs, but even with their unaccustomed disguise, they were distinctive amongst the hundreds of ornately attired figures, the painted society fops and portly Lotharios milling around.
The ballroom was huge, and magnificent, with a preponderance of gold in its decoration, though one could not tell whether it was gilt or gold leaf that edged the corners and cornices.
Although the evening was young when they arrived, an abundance of crystal chandeliers blazed overhead, running through the entrance hall, and down both sides of the ballroom, each lit by not less than fifty candles. Along one side of the ballroom, several pairs of glass doors open
ed onto long galleries exhibiting a vast collection of paintings and statues – all illuminated in the same extravagant manner.
In this light, the intricate artwork on the ballroom ceiling shone to advantage, but to appreciate it fully, Joshua thought one would need to stand alone on the floor of the room, not surrounded by upwards of five hundred guests in costume.
Forever after, he determined to judge a masquerade by this standard. While Charlie wasted no time in finding a partner, he was content to look at the elaborate costumes, and the intriguing selection of masks, some of which were of birds and animals. His appearance was plain by comparison, as was the outfit Charlie wore, which made him easier to recognise.
Having learned that Lady Rosie intended to dress as Queen Catherine de Medici, Joshua assumed she would be easy to find. How wrong he was. Now it seemed as if every tall woman in Rome wore a variation of the same regal costume. There was no easy way to find her in this throng of swirling figures. It was a process of elimination – and he might have to dance with them all.
The rules for dancing were different to those at a normal ball. Tonight, there was a free choice with a hint of mystery, not knowing the faces behind the masks until the unveiling at the stroke of midnight. Looking at the number of guests milling around the row of open glass doors leading from the ballroom to the terrace, it was unlikely some dancers would wait that long.
The night air was warm and redolent with heavy scents from the gardens. Outside in the grounds, temples beckoned, and lanterns flickered, illuminating the latest addition to the centre of the lake, the Ionic temple, dedicated to Aesculapius, the god of healing.
Joshua had never known such a crush. The heat from several thousand candle-flames, matched by vapour from half as many bodies in costume was intense, and the cloying scent of the floral arrangements set in recesses around the ballroom merely added to that. Then there was the dancing. He wished he could remove his cloak, and thought longingly of a bath in which he could immerse himself. Maybe he should have gone to the bagnio instead.
After several failed attempts, dancing with other ladies in a similar costume, he found Lady Rosie with her cousin, and engaged to dance two sets with each.
Charlie did the same, then entered into the spirit of mystery and headed for a group of ladies he thought he knew from the embassy. Joshua stayed for a while to talk with those with whom he felt comfortable. Eventually, he knew he had to leave them and circulate amongst the other dancers. What he had not anticipated was that a vision in gold silk would elect to dance with him.
He had seen the woman standing amongst the group of dignitaries when they arrived, and noticed her again when he was talking to Rosie and her cousin. He could not help doing so because she kept looking his way. At least he thought that, and looked around to make sure no one else was standing behind. They were not.
What was there about her that teased his mind? Then it dawned, she was Ariadne, in the flesh. The one the artist included in the portrait of himself and Charlie.
Tonight, she wore an upswept mask of a black lace design, its delicately woven frame studded with diamante. If the outline was smaller, he might see more of her face. All he could see were her rich red lips and pearly teeth.
When Joshua first saw her, he thought she was the most vibrant woman in the room. Where other costumes disguised the owner’s identity, her outfit drew attention to her charms.
He did not know much about women’s clothes, but he had the feeling that on anyone else, the drab gold silk she wore, fashioned in the deceptively simple lines of a toga, might have passed unnoticed amongst other more elaborate costumes. Instead, the slinky material shimmered as it flowed over her voluptuous curves, it could not help drawing the eye.
A floating wisp of gold silk fashioned as a hood moved his attention to her hair. It was as vivid as the setting sun, and twisted in a coil on the crown of her head. He had never seen such luminescence, or gems to equal the black pearls that encircled her neck and hung provocatively down to her waist.
Other eyes looked in her direction, and not only those of men. He noticed Rosie did too, with a strange expression on her face. Where most women looked with envy, her gaze held enmity, and he wondered at the cause. The woman was undoubtedly the more curvaceous, but that surely was not a reason to view her with hatred.
The goddess was neither tall nor short, but she had a presence that went beyond the clothes she wore. She simply oozed sensuality, and he was not the only one to notice her. Other men wanted to fawn over her, pay extravagant compliments.
Then he noticed the way she moved, and something vaguely familiar about the leisurely, feline sway to her hips touched his soul. Joshua could not keep his eyes off her. He had a picture in his mind of how her coiffured titian hair would look tumbling loose around her shoulders, and the thought made him feel hot and decidedly over-dressed. He closed his eyes but the tantalising image remained.
“What’s the matter?” Lady Rosie asked.
“Nothing,” he said. He could not tell her another woman was watching him. He did not have to. She could see for herself.
“Take no notice,” she said tartly. “You’ll only encourage her.”
He took his leave of the ladies, promising to return for the appointed dances, and moved across the ballroom. There seemed a sense of inevitability about the way he met a uniformed minion half way to the door. The man bowed and spoke a few words. Joshua uttered an almost pre-ordained response and followed the servant to where his partner awaited him.
He bowed formally, carefully gauging the correct depth of deference, and she leaned provocatively forward. His mouth felt dry and he unconsciously moistened his lips. She smiled appreciatively.
Somehow, Joshua managed to match his steps to his partner, and to the set, but he could never remember what dance it was. When it was finished, he bowed his thanks and walked away across the room to speak a few words to Charlie.
Then he moved on for the first of his duty dances. They should not have felt like that, but they did. Lady Rosie conducted herself with stiff propriety and her cousin did the same. Soon it would be the supper dance. For some reason, he had not arranged to take either of the ladies down to the supper room. It was not intentional. It just happened that way.
He felt strangely isolated, so he made his way to where Charlie was standing. Midnight was the unmasking hour and people gathered around, waiting for the chimes to begin.
“I think the Countess likes you, Josh. She hasn’t stopped watching you since you danced with her,” Charlie whispered.
“She’s married, isn’t she?” He did not know how he knew.
“What’s that got to do with it? Husband and wives rarely dance together. It just is not done, sir.” Charlie’s gift for mimicry perfected the lisping individual who struggled to teach them the rudiments of etiquette. “Surely, you have noticed the older menfolk favour the youngest maidens.”
Joshua had seen that, but it was not the kind of thing to ask Dr Hawley, particularly after their recent adventure. He almost laughed at the thought and caught the woman’s eye. She gave an almost imperceptible nod, pouted her lips and turned away towards the French doors leading to the terrace.
“There you are, Josh,” said Charlie. “That’s an invitation if ever I saw one.”
If it were that noticeable, then surely everyone else would see him walk across the room towards her. He was hardly invisible.
A manservant appeared by his side. “Mr Norbery? The Contessa requested that you join her party for supper.”
He looked at Charlie.
“Don’t ask me, Josh. The invitation is for you, but if there’s a party, it isn’t as if you are the only one to be asked.”
“If you care to follow me, sir…” The servant moved away, skirting the groups around the edge of the room with ease, and on through a corridor with doors on either side.
Joshua strode after the man, and found him waiting at the end of the hallway, holding open a door. He lengthened
his step, and passed through several more doors, down a flight of steps to the outside of the building and across a flagstoned quadrangle, before entering into another maze of corridors.
This was silly. He was moving further away from the ballroom.
“Wait,” he called, wondering if he’d used the right word.
“It’s not far now, sir,” the man said, scarcely checking in his stride.
When they finally stopped, the minion took a key from his pocket and passed through a door. Trailing several steps behind, Joshua found himself in a corridor, lined from floor to ceiling with marble tiles. It almost seemed like an extension of the main entrance.
A panel in the wall slid open, and Joshua passed through the opening and the outer door closed. Somewhere in the background, he heard the sound of running water and became aware of a sweet-smelling scent, reminiscent of sandalwood. Before he could discern the source, a servant appeared at his side, offering a goblet of wine.
Joshua felt better with something to hold, so he took a sip and a strange fiery substance scorched its way down his throat.
What the deuce was in that? He sniffed the contents and decided whatever it was, it was better not to drink any more of it.
“I’m so glad you came, Mr Norbery. You are most welcome.”
Even before he turned, the sound of the sultry voice left Joshua in no doubt of her identity, and the sight of her titian hair tumbling around her shoulders evoked the same erotic response it did when he saw her in the bagnio – just before she melted his bones.
The realisation rooted him to the spot. With the removal of her mask, the goddess had shed the rope of black pearls and exchanged the gown she wore in the ballroom for a diaphanous shift, which revealed more of her voluptuous form than it hid.
What kind of outfit was that to wear when she was supposed to be entertaining guests for supper? More to the point – what was he doing here alone with her in a state of dishabille?
Brothers at Arms Page 23