As though wondering how to begin, Stephen reached to put both their coffee cups on the table, before saying abruptly, ‘Fran had a childhood friend of whom she was very fond. This friend’s name was Maria Caldoni…’
‘My mother…’ Sophia breathed.
‘That’s right. When the Caldoni family moved to Rome, the two girls missed each other very much, so after Maria and your father met and got engaged, whenever they could get away from Rome, they came to stay at the Palazzo.
‘My parents and I were still living here, and though I could only have been about five and a half, I vaguely remember them coming…
‘By this time, of course, Aunt Fran was married to Paolo and, though she soon realized that she had made a very bad mistake, she did her best to hide it from everyone.
‘The following year, Maria and your father came for the carnival and it was then that he painted Fran’s portrait and, I believe, the miniature for himself. He also began a portrait of my father…’
Her heart racing, Sophia said, ‘So that’s why it looks so much like you.’
‘That’s why…It remained unfinished because, not long afterwards, we moved to the States.’
Still marvelling, she said, ‘I can’t get over the likeness…It’s incredible.’
‘Though of course Dad’s altered over the years, I know from photographs that when he was my age we looked very much alike. The main difference has always been in height. I’m several inches taller…’
‘If you knew who it was when you saw the portrait, why didn’t you tell me?’
‘For the same reason I didn’t tell you about the miniature. As I said, it’s a long and complicated story, and I didn’t know how much you already knew.
‘It’s only this last weekend—when I got round to reading the diaries Aunt Fran had left, and talked to Rosa—that I learnt the whole of it myself.’
Glancing at his companion’s expressive face, he said wryly, ‘Yes, I’m quite aware that reading someone else’s diaries seems like prying, and I would never have opened them if Aunt Fran hadn’t explicitly stated—in the will we finally found—that she had left them for me to read.
‘She added that she wanted the people she loved best to know and understand what her life had been like and what had motivated her actions.’
Still a shade uncomfortable, Sophia asked, ‘But would she have wanted me to know what was in them?’
‘Yes,’ he said with certainty, ‘she would…Now, shall I go on?’
‘Please.’
‘It was after that particular carnival that Paolo got drunk and Aunt Fran discovered his real reason for marrying her…’
Watching Sophia’s face, Stephen went on carefully, ‘By that time, though your father was still very fond of Maria, he had fallen hopelessly in love with Fran and she with him…’
After a stunned silence, Sophia said incredulously, ‘My father and your aunt loved each other?’
‘Yes. Perhaps Paolo guessed and felt threatened, because he took a violent dislike to the portrait your father had painted.
‘It wasn’t long after that that the real break between Fran and Paolo occurred and Paolo took Gina and moved out of the Palazzo.
‘When your father learnt that Paolo had left, he begged Fran to get a divorce and marry him. Though Maria’s parents had planned a big society wedding and all the arrangements were in place, he was prepared to tell his bride-to-be and her parents the truth and cancel the wedding.
‘But, much as she loved him, Fran wouldn’t let him.
‘As fate would have it, it was then that the Caldonis went to Cape Town for a month to visit a distant relative and took Maria with them.
‘Your father arranged to have some leave of absence and went to Venice alone to try to persuade Fran to change her mind. With their future happiness at stake, she must have been badly torn, but in the end she stayed firm.
‘She said that she didn’t believe in divorce and she refused to ruin her best friend’s happiness. She told your father that she would always love him and if he really and truly loved her he would go ahead and marry Maria.
‘He returned to Rome and, when Maria and her parents came back from South Africa, the marriage took place.
‘What neither Fran nor your father knew at the time was that she was pregnant with his child.’
‘After a couple of months, just as Fran realized she was pregnant, Paolo returned briefly to the Palazzo to see if his absence had changed her mind.
‘In the circumstances she must have been tempted to say it had, and take him back, but once again she stuck with her principles.
‘When he discovered that she still had no intention of including him in her will, he left again, apparently for good…’
As Sophia stared at him, struggling to take it all in, Stephen went on quietly, ‘As soon as her pregnancy started to become obvious, Fran never left the Palazzo and, apart from Rosa and Roberto, only your father and Maria knew.
‘But while your father knew the whole truth, Maria presumed that the baby was Paolo’s.
‘When Maria and your father had been married about three months and Maria became pregnant, they were both overjoyed. But, only a few weeks into the pregnancy, she had a miscarriage.
‘Then, as a final death knell to their hopes, the doctor warned them that the bouts of rheumatic fever Maria had suffered as a child had weakened her heart and that another pregnancy might well kill her.
‘She was willing to try, but your father wasn’t, and when she realized that he was quite adamant she sank into a deep depression and lost the will to live so completely that he began to fear he would lose her anyway.
‘Fran was desperately sorry for them both and, trying to make amends for the wrong she felt she’d done—both to her friend and the man she loved—she promised them that if the child she was carrying was born safe and well, they could adopt it.
‘She made only two stipulations. The first was that no one, particularly Paolo, should ever know that she had borne a child. Perhaps she thought that if he found out she had had a baby he might guess the truth and try to make trouble. The second was that the child should never know that he or she had been adopted.
‘Only too pleased to agree, the pair gave their word and, a week before the birth was due, they came to stay at the Palazzo.
‘The adoption papers were all ready, just waiting to be filled in and signed, and with Fran’s doctor and legal adviser—both sworn to secrecy—standing by, they waited on tenterhooks for the baby to be safely delivered…’
‘And was it?’ Sophia breathed, almost sure that the tale was going to end in tragedy.
But Stephen answered, ‘Yes, it was. On the sixth of March—her own birthday—Fran had a little girl.’
Feeling as though she had been kicked in the solar plexus, Sophia said huskily, ‘The sixth of March is my birthday.’
‘Yes,’ Stephen agreed quietly.
‘So I’m Fran’s daughter?’
‘Yes. She was a very strong woman. Because of her principles she gave up not only the man she loved, but the daughter she had always wanted.’
‘Maria and your father would have named you Francesca, but Fran suggested that you were called Sophia…her middle name.’
Through stiff lips, Sophia queried, ‘And she never saw me again?’
‘For Maria’s sake, she never asked to. But when you were about four Maria herself insisted on bringing you to the Palazzo so Fran could see you.
‘In my aunt’s diary she states that those few days were the happiest of her life, and recalls how delighted you were when she scratched your name on a pane of glass with her diamond ring…
‘So you see, the feeling that you’d been here before was really half forgotten memories.
‘That was the last time she ever saw you, but she said she would always be thinking of you, and she intended to give you the Padova Pearls on your twenty-fifth birthday.
‘Then as that birthday approached, almost as th
ough she had had a premonition, the last entry in her diary said that she expected to be with her maker before then and was taking steps to ensure that the pearls reached you safely.
‘She added that as neither Maria nor Paolo were still living and couldn’t be hurt, she was giving your father permission to tell you the truth at the same time.
‘Presumably, if he hadn’t died when he did, you would have learnt the truth from his own lips rather than second hand.
‘But it wasn’t until Fran’s will finally came to light that anyone here, apart from Rosa and Roberto, knew that she had a daughter of her own.
‘In that will, it not only stated that she wanted her daughter to have the pearls, it actually named that daughter as Sophia Jordan.
‘When Gina discovered that Fran had never intended her to have the pearls, she was furious. At first she refused to believe that any such daughter existed, and she swore that Fran had made the whole thing up just to spite her.
‘But then Rosa and Roberto confirmed the fact that Fran did indeed have a daughter.
‘The pearls still hadn’t come to light, but they weren’t the only thing that was missing. The jewellery box that Aunt Fran had had for as long as I can remember seemed to have vanished.
‘When I asked Rosa about it, I discovered that, not long before she died, Fran had sent Roberto to London with a package—which Rosa presumed was the box—to give to your father—’
‘Of course!’ Sophia exclaimed.
Stephen lifted a level brow. ‘You didn’t see him?’
‘No, but Mrs Caldwell did, and she described him to me. The first time I met Roberto it briefly crossed my mind that he fitted her description very well.
‘She told me he was carrying a package, and later, when I started to put two and two together, I realized it must have been the jewellery box I’d found in Dad’s bureau.
‘There was a card with it that read: “For Sophia, with all my love. Have a very happy twenty-fifth birthday”.
‘Dad hadn’t been able to get out for some time, so I thought it must have been ordered from a special delivery gift service…
‘With my birth sign carved on the lid it seemed so perfect, so fitting…’
‘Fran would be pleased you like it. It was one of her most treasured possessions. Her parents had given it to her on her twenty-fifth birthday, and as you and she were both Pisceans, it was appropriate.’
Sophia’s eyes filled with tears.
‘As she sent you the box, it seemed logical that the pearls were in it…’
Wiping the tears away, Sophia shook her head. ‘But they weren’t…I wonder what happened to them?’
‘I only wish I knew. It’s possible that your father, knowing how valuable they were, took them out of the box and put them somewhere safe, but I—’
‘I’ve just thought of something!’ Sophia exclaimed. ‘They could have been stolen. The night we met, after you’d gone and while I was over at Mrs Caldwell’s, I’m pretty sure someone searched the flat.
‘For one thing, when I got back, the living-room curtains were closed and I’m certain they were open when I went across…Or almost certain,’ she amended honestly. ‘And I think someone went through the drawers in my bedroom. Though I can’t imagine how they managed to get in without a—’ She abruptly stopped speaking.
There was utter silence for a moment or two, then she accused shakily, ‘It was you…You searched the flat…You kept my keys and went back. Then, before you left, you dropped them under the coffee table…’
‘Yes,’ he admitted.
‘So you were in London because of the pearls…You were trying to get them back.’
‘I was in London because of the pearls, but I wasn’t trying to get them back.’
‘Then what were you trying to do?’
‘I was trying to make sure that if Fran had sent the pearls, they had gone to the right person.
‘Don’t forget this was before I’d read the diaries and I’d never heard of Sophia Jordan, so when Gina, having learnt of Roberto’s visit to London, became convinced that some fraudulent deception had taken place, I was unable to reassure her.
‘In fact I was forced to agree that if the pearls had been handed over in that casual way to some unknown man, the whole thing was decidedly risky.
‘Roberto, who had been told to go to a certain address and give the package to a Signor Jordan, had merely carried out his orders with no means of checking that it was the right man he’d given it to—’
‘But as Dad had once been a frequent guest at the Palazzo, surely Roberto would have recognized him?’
‘The relevant word is once…It’s over twenty years since your father was here, and while Rosa would almost certainly have known him, Roberto, who rarely came into contact with the guests, didn’t. He admitted as much when I asked him.
‘So, to be on the safe side, I decided to go to London and do some on-the-spot detective work.
‘When Gina found out, she asked if she could come with me. For all her apparent sophistication she hates travelling alone, and Giovanni Longheni, an old friend who had been living in California for a number of years, was in London on business. She said it would be a good chance for them to meet up and spend some time together. Which they did.
‘Left to my own devices, it didn’t take me long to discover that Peter Jordan had died and that the woman Aunt Fran had claimed as her daughter, was working at A Volonté art gallery.’ His eyes searched hers, making sure she understood his intentions.
‘I had no idea what kind of woman you were, and I wanted to know for sure that Aunt Fran hadn’t been duped into parting with the pearls.
‘So, on Friday evening, while Gina dined with Giovanni, I went into A Volonté and got my first look at you.’ Stephen stroked his hand down her cheek. ‘I was knocked sideways. Those eyes and the shape of your face, that air of quiet strength, convinced me that, no matter how bizarre it seemed, you could well be Fran’s daughter.
‘But still I needed some proof, and I needed to find out exactly how much you knew and whether or not you had the pearls.’ He sat back and paused for a moment, allowing her to take in everything he had said so far.
‘In order to even start finding out those things, I had to get to know you, so when you left the gallery I followed you.
‘I was wondering how best to go about meeting you when your carrier broke…
‘Your first reaction when you saw me fazed me. You looked at me as if you already knew me, as if my face was familiar to you.
‘It wasn’t until you mentioned the portrait, and I actually saw it, that I realized why…’ Stephen smiled. ‘Though that portrait seemed to confirm your connection with Venice and the Palazzo, there were still a lot of questions to be answered.
‘Then I noticed Aunt Fran’s jewellery box…Though you told me it had been empty, I felt I had to check…’
Sophia continued for him. ‘So you took my keys and when you were sure I was safely out of the way, you searched the flat.’ She could hardly believe she was saying the words.
‘I’m sorry. It’s not something I’m proud of.’ Wryly, he added, ‘And you can tell from the mess I made of things that it wasn’t in my line.’
‘Presumably you didn’t find the pearls?’
‘I’m afraid not and, as I wasn’t sure how best to proceed, I went back to my hotel to have dinner and think things over.
‘In spite of the fact that you had the jewellery box, I was almost convinced that you knew nothing about the pearls or anything else to do with the Palazzo, for that matter.
‘But I couldn’t be absolutely sure. I needed to find some way of getting to know you better, of getting to the bottom of the mystery.
‘I couldn’t stay in London—that afternoon some urgent business had cropped up that I needed to attend to in person—so I thought if I could persuade you to come to Venice…
‘I spent half the night wondering how best to achieve that and by morning I’d m
anaged to come up with a plan—’
Sophia gasped. ‘You lied about selling the paintings!’
‘No, that part was quite true. What wasn’t true was that, Aunt Fran’s expert having met with an accident, I needed your help.
‘It’s a fact that he met with an accident, but as the first viewing isn’t for months yet there’s plenty of time for him to recover.
‘However, that fairly innocent deception did the trick and you agreed to come.
‘Needless to say, Gina was horrified. She didn’t want you anywhere near the Palazzo. For two reasons.
‘Firstly, she was afraid that, rather than actually sending the pearls, Fran might have told you where to find them. And still unwilling to believe you were Fran’s daughter, she didn’t intend you to have them if she could help it.
‘Secondly, she was jealous. Though I’ve always been fond of Gina, I have no illusions about her, and I was well aware that she had me lined up as husband number two.’
Wryly, he added, ‘Having a rich husband and the pearls would have suited her just fine.
‘So, you see, you were a threat to her…
‘Her only slight consolation was that you had insisted on staying at a hotel.
‘Then, when I got back to Venice on Saturday, I did what I should have done sooner. I read Aunt Fran’s diaries. And of course they explained everything. Or almost everything…
‘Gina was far from pleased to learn that the pearls were yours by right. She was even less pleased when, on Monday evening, she discovered that you were actually staying at the Palazzo. She wanted me to find you a hotel room without delay.
‘But, having gone to a lot of trouble to make sure you were staying at the Palazzo, I had no intention of obliging her…’
Suddenly recalling the look that had passed between Stephen and the desk clerk, Sophia cried accusingly, ‘The fact that I had no room…It was your doing!’
When, a gleam in his grey eyes, he failed to deny it, she rushed on, ‘You suggested which hotel I should go to, then you bribed the clerk not to make a booking. Why?’
‘Because I wanted you at my home, under my eye, so to speak, so I could assess the situation. However, there turned out to be some drawbacks to the plan.
The Padova Perals Page 16