Vintage Love, page 77
He snatched at them with emaciated hands and held them before him. Then he gabbled something she could not understand, grinned at her again, and stuffed them in the side pocket of his ragged jacket.
She said, “If you don’t mind, I’ll just remain here a little longer.”
His back was to her and he seemed to be paying no further attention to her. She went to the opening of the cave and, holding back the cloth a little, peered out. The immediate area seemed to be deserted.
Her concern for Raphael’s welfare out-weighed her good judgment. She was frantic to know what had happened to him. The attackers had taken their venom out on him but she was sure that it was because they had been after her. She gave a final glance at the old man crouched by the fire and then risked going out into the night once again.
There was an eerie stillness which bothered her almost as much as if she’d heard the sound of distant voices. She felt there was something unnatural about it. She advanced a few steps at a time, keeping crouched like an animal at bay. That was how she felt. The beauty of the ruins no longer meant anything. Now this was simply a place for her to hide.
The silence was broken by what was surely a footstep on the gravel. Then she heard an anguished low cry of: “Della! Della! Can you hear me!”
Only because she recognized the voice of Raphael did she reply: “Over here!”
A moment later the young Prince came stumbling to her out of the shadows. He took her in his arms. “Della! Della! I thought I had lost you!”
“And I was sure you were badly hurt!”
“Not their fault I wasn’t,” he said angrily.
“They came after me. I hid in a cave!”
Raphael said, “They’ve gone now. I heard them leave. I stayed on the ground playing possum. They thought I was still unconscious but the blow didn’t hit me full on as they had intended.”
“You are all right?”
“Yes,” he said grimly. “Except for a good-sized bump at the back of my head.”
“I’m sorry,” Della said. “I’m sure they were after me.”
“Why should they be?”
“Let us get back to the carriage and I’ll tell you,” she said.
He led her back through the darkness to the waiting carriage. Ironically, while all this had been taking place, the driver had fallen asleep in his seat. Raphael wakened him and told him to drive them back to the palace. Then he climbed into the carriage beside her.
“Now you will tell me all this mystery, why those two, whom I regard as common thieves, came to be after you?”
She said, “Did they take your wallet?”
“No,” he said with a hint of surprise. “I hadn’t thought of that.”
“If they had been thieves, isn’t that the first thing they would have done?”
“I’m not sure,” he said cautiously. “Maybe they were too concerned about your escaping, perhaps to get help, to remain with me.”
“But after they lost me they still didn’t return to you,” she pointed out.
“No. They didn’t. So?”
“I say that proves my point. They were not ordinary thieves but the same men who have attacked me before.”
“Attacked you? Why?”
“It’s rather a long story,” she said. “And it begins with the theft of a jeweled Madonna from the Vatican.”
“Go on,” he encouraged her.
She told him the entire story beginning with her being kidnapped in England. She finished by saying, “It is my belief that Count Barsini was behind the theft and conceived the idea of sending the Madonna to me to keep until later. But the messenger bringing it to me was murdered and the Madonna stolen. He refuses to believe this happened and assumes I’m lying and keeping the treasure for myself.”
Prince Raphael looked stunned. “If this is true it means that Irma is mixed up in it all.”
“She probably suggested that it be sent to me with a message asking me to hold it for her. It had just come out that she was supposedly my sister.”
“Has she made any mention of it to you?”
“No. But I think she soon will.”
“Why do you say that?”
“Because of her manner. I feel she also suspects that I may still have the Madonna.”
“It all comes of her associating with that Barsini,” the young Prince said despairingly. “He has taken her from me and mixed her up in all this evil business.”
“He cannot have been in the theft alone,” she said. “I talked with a priest, Father Anthony, whom I met on the train from Paris, and he claims it was done by some of the Vatican staff. That is why the Church officials have not turned the theft over to the police to investigate. They hope whoever committed the theft will repent and bring the Madonna back.”
Raphael frowned. “It seems to me this should be reported to the police.”
“How can we?” she asked. “If they approached the people at the Vatican museum they would likely deny the theft.”
“In that case there is a problem.”
She said, “Somehow I must establish that I did not ever receive any parcel from Italy. Perhaps they would not bother me if I convinced them.”
“Who?”
“I wish I knew,” she haid. “As I said, I suspect Barsini is the ringleader.”
“The way to him is through Irma.”
“I’ve thought of that,” Della agreed. “I’m going to talk to her about meeting him tomorrow.”
The handsome Prince took her hand in his and gave her a warning look. “If you do meet him, be cautious. I warn you he is a dangerous man. Especially where women are concerned.”
“You let him meet Irma.”
“A mistake for which I’ve paid heavily,” the Prince sighed. “I doubt that Irma will ever marry me now.”
“Perhaps you are giving up too easily.”
“Perhaps,” he said. “Or it may be that I no longer love her in the same way I did.”
“Because of her turning to Barsini?”
He glanced at her. “That, and the fact I’ve met you.”
She blushed. “Don’t forget I’m engaged to Henry.”
“Maybe that could change,” Raphael said.
“I’m afraid that’s unlikely,” Della replied.
“I see,” he said quietly and stared ahead of him in silence as the carriage rolled on in the night.
“Are we far from Prince Sanzio’s palace?” she asked.
“Not now,” he said. “I’m sorry our visit to the ruins turned out so badly.”
“I enjoyed everything up until the moment we were attacked,” she told him. “And we were fortunate to escape as easily as we did.”
“What I took to be a simple case of robbery and assault you see as something else,” he said. “I wonder which of us is right.”
“I think I am,” she said. “But I won’t argue the point.”
“Do you plan to tell them at the palace?”
She considered. “No. I think we might be wise to say nothing. It would only frighten Aunt Isobel and upset Henry and Prince Sanzio. And I would prefer that Irma didn’t hear about it from us.”
“You think the thugs will report to Barsini and she will know in that way?”
“It’s possible,” she said
“I shall be more careful in the future,” Raphael promised. “There is so much of Rome I’d like to show you. But we must see that you are protected.”
“Perhaps we’d be better off to do our sightseeing in daylight,” she said with a rueful smile as the carriage brought them up before the entrance to the palace.
It seemed that everyone was in bed. The handsome Prince saw her safely inside, gave her a goodnight kiss on the back of her hand and left. She went on upstairs to her own room and quickly prepared for bed. She fell asleep almost at once, and though her rest was troubled with nightmares featuring swarthy, cruel-faced men coming after her, she slept until morning without waking.
Henry Clarkson came to join her for breakfast in the dining room. He kissed her on the temple and sat by her saying, “You were late getting home last night.”
“I know,” she said. “Everyone was in bed.”
“I waited until midnight and then it seemed pointless,” the young Englishman said.
She gave him a quick glance. “You knew I’d be all right.”
“After what has been going on I didn’t know anything of the sort,” he said. “I think you might have tried to get back sooner.”
“We went to the Forum to see the ruins by moonlight and spent some time in a restaurant on the way.”
“I see,” Henry said quietly.
She gave him a troubled smile. “You surely aren’t jealous of my going out with Raphael?”
“He is a Prince and very charming,” Henry said.
“He is also engaged to marry Irma.”
“I understand there’s now some question of that,” Henry said meaningfully.
“Please!” she begged him. “It was an innocent night out.”
He smiled ruefully. “I’m sure that it was. Sorry.” But there was something in his tone that suggested he was merely saying this without fully believing it.
Guido came in and took their breakfast orders. And as they waited to be served Henry explained that she must come to the lawyer’s offices along with Prince Sanzio and Irma for the final session of the claim to the estate by her sister.
Henry complained, “Irma has made all this doubly hard for us by insisting she doesn’t want to be recognized as a Standish.”
“I know,” Della agreed.
“We have gone too far with it now to change course,” he said. “There is no question in my mind. She is your missing sister and must be declared so.”
Della said, “I’ll do what I can to make her happy about it.”
And she did. When the carriage came to take them all to the lawyer’s office, she sat next to Irma and talked as pleasantly as she could. Irma looked pale and seemed distracted. She sat restlessly clasping and unclasping her hands in her lap. She had not arrived home until very late in the morning. Della heard Prince Sanzio reproving her for waking Guido in the small hours to open the door for her.
The offices of the law firm were much the same as one might have found in England. The two senior partners were gray-haired and grave in manner. Together with Henry they went over their findings, including letters, personal items and the final confession of the woman who had kidnapped Irma as a child and taken her to Italy.
Prince Sanzio had used his crutches to get from the carriage to the lawyer’s office and seemed to be intrigued as he listened to the evidence in the case. Irma sat between Della and the old Prince, and kept staring at the hardwood floor of the office most of the time.
Henry Clarkson did the final summing up in his most professional manner, saying, “Since all doubts have been removed, I declare Irma Sanzio to be Irma Standish. I shall make a detailed report to my seniors when I return to London. In due time she will be given the full rights of her British citizenship and her share of the Standish estate.” He paused and went over to shake Irma’s hand. “May I congratulate you, Miss Standish.”
Looking frightened, Irma shook hands with him and then burst into tears, her face pressed against her foster-father’s chest. The old Prince consoled her, speaking in Italian, which he rarely did when he was in the company of English people. Perhaps, Della felt, he spoke in the tongue with which Irma had grown up in order to reassure her that she would always be his daughter as well.
Henry remained at the law office to complete a listing of documents while the old Prince, Irma and Della went back to the palace. Prince Sanzio, exhausted by the morning’s effort, begged to be excused. Helped into his wheelchair, he went to his bedroom to rest. This left Della alone with her newly declared sister, which was exactly what she wanted.
Guido suggested, and the girls agreed, that they dine outdoors on the patio. The little man set up a table under the shade tree out there and served them a pleasant salad lunch.
Over the table Della told her sister, “I’m glad it is settled. Over with.”
Still pale, Irma said, “I don’t think I shall ever feel it over with. I cannot accustom myself to thinking I am an English girl.”
Della smiled. “Being an Italian princess is much more glamorous.”
“It is not that,” Irma said. “It is that I wanted no change. I prefer to remain here with my father in Italy.”
“You can do that if you like,” Della said. “But you should at least visit England and see if you like it. You speak the language well enough.”
“I look at you and see myself,” Irma said. “I cannot believe that two people could be so much alike in appearance.”
Della laughed. “It gives me an eerie feeling as well. But we are twins and we must get used to it.”
Irma, lovely in a white dress, sat back in her wicker chair and said, “I have not been pleasant to you since your arrival.”
“No need to apologize,” Della said. “It is a sort of intrusion.”
“You mean well,” Irma said. “And it seems you truly are my sister. I hope we can also be friends.”
“I hope so,” Della said. “And you can do me a favor.”
“What?”
“I wish to meet Count Barsini,” Della said. “I have some questions to ask him. I know you and he are friends. You can take me to him.”
Irma eyed her in a strange fashion, saying nothing for a moment. Then she told her, “By a strange coincidence he has spoken to me about you. In fact, expressed a desire to meet you.”
Della leaned forward. “Then it should be easy. When will you take me to him?”
“When do you wish to go?”
“As soon as possible.”
Irma shrugged. “This afternoon after siesta. I’m sure he will be at his villa. He is having a gathering tonight.”
“A gathering?”
The other girl nodded. “Yes. Perhaps he’ll decide to invite you.”
“Do you mean a Satanist gathering?”
Irma said, “I’d rather you talked with the Count.”
• • •
Della wore a lace and silk afternoon dress of pale blue and her straw hat and parasol were of the same delicate shade. She waited in the reception hall until Irma came down to join her. Irma wore a less elaborate dress of pink.
She gave Della a look and said, “I see you wish to catch Barsini’s attention.”
Embarrassed, Della said, “Not at all. I just wanted to make myself presentable.”
“You have,” Irma assured her with a small smile.
The carriage had been ordered and was waiting. They sat together talking more like sisters than in the past and Della began to hope she might at last be learning to communicate with her newfound sister.
Irma was clearly making an effort to be more friendly. She chatted about the places they drove past and had the carriage halt for a moment by the Baracocia Piazza di Spagna.
“So unusual!” Della said, studying the sunken stone boat, in the thick of traffic, and the flowers on the steps only a few feet away. Water fell from various tongues and spigots in the boat, whose stone was pleasantly corroded.
Irma said, “My tutor once told me it was built to commemorate a flood of the Tiber in 1595 when a barge went ashore on this spot. It is by the father of Bernini, his only conspicuous work in the city. He, my tutor said, happened to have been born in the year of the flood.”
The carriage continued on in the warm late-afternoon sunshine until they reached the splendid villa of Count Barsini. It was in no way run down as was the palace of Prince Sanzio. The towering stone house suggested wealth and arrogance both outside and in. They were ushered in by a middle-aged male servant in livery and sent to wait in a living room of massive size with huge portraits lining its walls.
“Barsini lives well,” Irma told her.
“That is easy to see,” she said.
There was a smile on the other girl’s face. “I’m interested in seeing his reaction when he meets you. I mean because your resemblance to me will startle him.”
“He knows we are twins, doesn’t he?”
“Yes,” Irma said. “But I did not warn him how much we look alike.”
The servant came for them, informing them coldly, “The Count will now receive you.”
They followed the servant up a stairway and along a corridor to the rear of the house. There, in a room with a balcony overlooking the Tiber, was Count Barsini. He was seated at a desk with a glass by his hand when they came into the bright, high-ceilinged room.
He rose and came forward to greet them. Della was first struck by his height. He was at least six feet tall, if not more in a country where most people were short. His head was shaved bald but he had a short black beard. His eyes were strange, too bright and darting, as he glanced about. His face was oval and handsome in a menacing way.
He greeted Irma first. “My dear, I did not expect to see you until this evening. You should perhaps have remained at home to rest.”
She said, “Della wished to meet you.”
The strange eyes darted her way now and he smiled in a way that made her uneasy. He bowed and took her hand and kissed it. “I call it amazing!” he said. “I could be talking to Irma! You look exactly like her!”
Della said, “We are amused by it.”
His eyes were fixed on her, appraising her, studying her physical details so that she felt almost naked before his arrogant scrutiny. “You have her body as well,” he said softly.
Irma spoke up: “I want to see something about tonight. If you’ll excuse me, I’ll leave you two to become better acquainted. I’ll be back shortly.”
“Just as you like,” Count Barsini said courteously. But she had an idea that Irma left because she knew it was what he would wish.
Della said, “You have a magnificent home.”
“You have only seen a small part of it,” Barsini said. “I also have a fine estate in the country.” He pulled up a chair for her by the desk. “Do sit down?”
She moved past him to the French doors opening onto the balcony. At the doors she turned and said, “I’d rather go out here. The sun is going down and the sky and river are so lovely.”
