Виктория Холт - The Silk Vendetta

Poor Lorenzo—so full of life and so equipped to enjoy it and then, because of one foolish act… it was over.

That was the end of the honeymoon for us. We could no longer be happy in Florence. The place had taken on a new aspect. These streets with their fine buildings, full of shadows of a glorious past, were indeed sinister.

Wherever I went I saw Lorenzo … strolling out, pleased with life and himself, and then suddenly the assassin’s knife had descended on him.

“I think,” said Philip, “that it would be better if we went home.”

How different was our homeward journey compared with that on which we had set out. I was sure Philip, like myself, could not stop thinking of Lorenzo. He had come only briefly into our lives but I was sure that we should never forget him and that it was in Philip’s cloak and hat that he had met his death.

I thought of him—setting out so jauntily, seeing himself as a sophisticated man about town … and then suddenly death striking him. I wondered if he had had time to realize what was happening to him and why. Perhaps … for one terrifying moment …

What a vicious attack it had been. He had been struck several times and nothing taken. That was strange. Perhaps it had not been robbery, but a long-standing quarrel. Perhaps the stories of his conquests had been true and there was some jealous rival. No. The cloak and the hat were significant. He had been mistaken for a tourist.

It occurred to me that it might so easily have been Philip and that really frightened me. I told him of my fears, clinging to him as though I was afraid to let him go.

He said: “This has changed Florence for us.”

And I agreed.

So we came home.

Grand’mere was waiting for us, her hands clasped, her eyes anxious as she surveyed me. She was soon smiling: nothing could hide the contentment in my face.

“I am so happy … so happy,” she said. “It is a dream come true. Oh, how rarely does that happen in this life! One plans … one hopes … and then it does not come. But this time … yes. You are happy, mon amour. He is good, is he not, this man? And good men are rare … and those who find them are fortunate.”

“It was wonderful. I must tell you about Florence. The beautiful buildings … the pictures … the sculptures … everything … the lovely bridges over the river … the little shops there…the streets…” I trailed off. The dark, narrow streets where a man could go out jauntily … happily … in love with life and himself … and meet death.

“What is it?” asked Grand’mere, all concern.

I told her about Lorenzo and she listened intently. “And he was wearing Philip’s cloak and hat?”

“Yes. He must have been mistaken for a rich tourist and that was why …”

“Mon Dieu … it could have been …”

I nodded. “That’s what I thought. That is why we have come home earlier than we intended.”

“Thank God you are safe. Thank God you are happy. This is how it must stay. I missed you. I thought of you all the time. I wondered. Marriage means much in a woman’s life. There are some who did not find happiness in it, but I see you have and that makes me happy.”

But what had happened to Lorenzo had thrown a shadow even over Grand’mere’s contentment. I could see that she could not forget what might have happened to Philip.

Lady Sallonger was pleased to see me back.

“You have been away so long,” she said. “Now I hope you are not going away again. That would be really thoughtless of you.”

I was no longer subservient. I was a daughter of the house, married to one of the sons. Mrs. Philip Sallonger—no longer plain Lenore Cleremont.

I said: “Philip wants us to find a house in London. He will be there most of the time and of course I shall be with him.”

“He can come here whenever he likes,” she protested. “It is his home as well as the rest of us.”

“I know. But we are going to have our own house.”

“Tiresome,” said Lady Sallonger. “Well, it will be some time before these things can be arranged. I have The Moonstone now. I heard it is most exciting. I thought we might start it this afternoon.”

I could see that she wanted to bring me back into bondage, though I must say that one of my most agreeable tasks was reading to her.

But Lady Sallonger would have to realize that life had changed.

Cassie embraced me warmly. She said: “It has been so dull here, Lenore. I’ve been longing for you to come back. Your grandmother and I were counting the days. I had a calendar and used to mark them off. We were so pleased when you came home early.”

She listened wide-eyed while I told her about Florence and the terrible thing that had happened to Lorenzo.

“If he hadn’t taken the cloak it wouldn’t have happened,” she said awestruck.

“We don’t know. But he did seem to have been mistaken for a tourist. On the other hand it might have been the outcome of some quarrel. He was always talking about his conquests and the Italians are a fiery people. They are always having feuds and vendettas.”

“Romeo and Juliet and all that. But how upsetting for you.”

“It was. If you had seen him, Cassie …”

“How I wish I had!”

“It was just horrible to think of that happening to him.”

“Because he was wearing Philip’s cloak. It might have happened to Philip.”

“Don’t speak of it.”

“You do love him, don’t you? I’m so glad. I love him too. This makes you really a part of the family.”

“Yes, I am very glad about it and so is Grand’mere.”

“So we are all happy.”

Julia came to the house accompanied by the Countess. The latter greeted me warmly, Julia less so. She looked at me with grudging admiration. Really, I thought, this capturing of a husband became an obsession with these girls because so much was made of their coming out. I was lucky. It hadn’t happened to me. My entrance into the world might have offended convention but it had given me Grand’mere and brought me to Philip. I must throw off the shadow Lorenzo’s death had cast over me; I must accept my happiness and rejoice in it.

Charles arrived at The Silk House. He and Philip were clo-setted together for a long while while Philip, as he said, caught up with what had been going on during his absence. One of the managers came down with a case full of papers and Philip decided that he would stay at The Silk House with the manager and Charles while he sorted them out.

We had been home only three days when Madalenna de’ Pucci arrived at the house. She came in a most unexpected manner.

We were dining. As Julia and the Countess were with us as well as Charles, we were a larger party than usual. On what she called “her good days” Lady Sallonger dined with us, and she was wheeled into the dining room. This was one of those occasions.

We were half way through the meal when one of the servants came in and announced that there had been an accident. A carriage had overturned right outside the house. The occupants were foreigners and it was not easy to understand what they were saying, but it seemed they were asking for help.

Lady Sallonger looked alarmed. “Oh dear … how tiresome,” she murmured. Charles said we had better go out and discover what it was all about.

In the hall stood a man. He was very dark and obviously harassed. He was talking at a great rate and in Italian.

We gathered that the carriage which he had been driving had overturned. His mistress, who was with her maid, had been hurt. He had been taking her to London.

Out in the road the carriage was lying on its side. The horses however were unharmed and standing patiently by. Seated on the roadside was a young woman; she was dark-haired and outstandingly beautiful. She was holding her ankle and appeared to be in some pain. Beside her sat a middle-aged woman who was wringing her hands and attempting to soothe her though the younger woman seemed calmer than she was.

Charles went to the young woman. “Are you in pain?” he asked.

“Si … si …” She lifted her beautiful eyes to his face appealingly.

“You must come into the house,” said Charles. I could see he was impressed by her beauty.

“Shall we see if you can stand on it?” said Charles. “If you can … I think that means no bones are broken.”

Philip said: “I’ll get some of the men from the stables to see what can be done about the carriage.”

The maid was talking volubly in Italian and the young woman got to her feet. She fell towards Charles who caught her.

“I think a doctor ought to see it,” I said.

“That’s the idea,” added Charles. “Send one of the servants for him. Let him explain what has happened.” He turned to the young woman. “Meanwhile you must come into the house.”

She leaned heavily on Charles who took her in, the maid running behind them talking all the time.

Some of the men had come out and were looking at the carriage. Philip remained with them while I went with Charles and the women into the house.

“Has the doctor been sent for?” asked Charles.

“Jim has gone off to fetch him,” Cassie told him.

“You are so kind …” said the Italian girl.

“Everything will be all right.” Charles spoke soothingly, caressingly.

Lady Sallonger, left in the dining room, was querulously asking what was going on. She called to me and I went in and told her.

“What is going to happen then?” she asked.

“I don’t know. They have sent for the doctor. She’s hurt her ankle and Charles thought it ought to be seen to.”

The doctor was soon with us. He examined the ankle and said he was certain no bones were broken. He thought it might be a strain. He must bind it up and he thought that a few days’ rest might put it to rights.