Fruit of the Golden Vine (10 page)

Adelina stifled a sob. And to think she’d been making fun of Irena all morning—no, for the entirety of their shared years.

“Even though I don’t understand a thing,” said Irena, “I know it has something to do with her, and that whatever it is, it makes you very happy. Your happiness is more precious to me than my own living breath. Don’t ever say again that I’d disown you. Don’t you ever dare.”

“I won’t.” Adelina wiped her eyes. “I’m sorry I said it.”

“Good.” Irena patted Adelina’s shoulder. “Go find her a gift, and I’ll go tickle that pup’s tummy a while.”

Adelina roamed between the stalls and tents, conscious that noon was fading into afternoon and that shadows were lengthening around her. She clutched Irena’s purse to her chest, and the coins inside shifted against her fingers. It was all of Irena’s winter savings, probably more, because unlike Adelina, Irena was capable of setting aside her wealth and not spending it on the first exciting thing she saw. Mother never ceased to lecture Adelina about her inability to keep her allowance long, especially given that the purpose of the indulgence was to instill an understanding of the virtue of saving.

Gold and silver glinted in the distance, and Adelina quickened her pace. A jeweler’s tent waited for her, supported by three crooked poles. She cast her eyes across glittering rows of bracelets, necklaces and rings while a large man with a sword watched her every motion. The jeweler, a lean man with sallow skin, sat in the shade and twirled a toothpick in his mouth.

“May I inspect some of these more closely?” Adelina asked.

“Perhaps,” said the jeweler. “But as you can understand, people pawing the merchandise makes me nervous. Maybe if you tell me what you’re looking for, I can direct you.”

“I’d like something that lovers might wear, like matching rings.”

“Yes, I have such things.” The jeweler passed his hand over a selection of rings. “Is there any material you had in mind?”

Adelina didn’t have to search deep for the answer; it was engraved on the cheek of the woman she loved. “Silver.”

“Very good. Any designs take your fancy? We have religious designs, designs from nature—”

“Do you have any trees?”

“I have no rings that are both trees, but I do have one decorative signet pair with a single tree. The other is a star. The signets, which are inlaid, I might add, with sapphire, are complementary in a philosophical sense. You see, the tree represents—”

“Earth. And the star, the heavens. Yes. That’s perfect.”

“Girl, you haven’t even seen it yet.”

“It doesn’t matter. It’s perfect. How much is it?”

“Two hundred and twelve.” The jeweler glanced at Adelina’s shaking hands. “For you, though, one hundred nine, because I know a lovesick maiden when I see one, and I’ve a tender heart. Isn’t that right?”

His guard grinned. “A true romantic.”

The jeweler held up two rings for Adelina’s inspection. Their filigree bands curved toward dark, silver-edged stones. Upon each signet was traced a silver icon: a tree with spreading branches upon one ring, and upon the other a stylized star. Sapphires dotted the branches of the tree, while the star boasted a sapphire at its center and yet more sparkling at its points. But did she have that much money?

Adelina opened the pouch and counted coins into her hands. Just enough, and only by virtue of the jeweler’s discount. “Thank you, my lord.”

“My lord!” The jeweler laughed as he made the exchange. “How fine a day is it when a pretty young woman refers to an old relic like me as ‘my lord.’ Is the lucky man a suitor or a husband?”

“Not a man at all, but a woman.” Adelina met the jeweler’s astonished look with calm composure. “And I love her without shame.” She turned on her heel, suddenly apprehensive of their possible reaction, and hurried back into the crowd.

For a moment, the marketplace seemed unfamiliar, but the barking of puppies rescued her. She pursued their squeaking past colorful banners and busy stalls. Before long, Irena appeared in view, a puppy dozing in her arms.

“Oh, Ada,” she said, lifting her head as Adelina approached. “I want to keep him.”

“I don’t think we could afford him.” Adelina hung her head. “I spent all your money.”

“Never mind.” Irena kissed the puppy on the nose before returning it. “When I live with Rafael, I shall have all the puppies I could want. So I take it you found your gift?”

“Yes, I did. And it was exactly what I wanted. I don’t know how to thank you.”

“Well, you could tease me a little less.” Irena took Adelina’s hand, and they walked together through the marketplace to the cleared grass and the copse beyond. “Is it better if I don’t look at whatever this gift is?”

“Most likely, yes. I doubt I could explain it to you. Not because you’re stupid, I mean, just because I don’t think you could understand.”

“As you say.” Irena pointed. “Look, there they are, lurking beneath the trees like robbers. How remarkable Silvana looks in that cape of hers.”

“And how sinister Rafael seems in that rakish hat.”

They giggled, trudged over the lawn and came to a stop by the picnic rugs. Silvana was leaning against a tree, her face solemn, while Rafael stood some distance further on, his arms folded. Adelina tensed, and her breath moved more quickly. Was it possible that Rafael had convinced Silvana to end her forbidden courtship?

“Here we are,” said Irena, releasing Adelina’s hand. “I hope we didn’t keep you waiting.”

“Not at all,” said Rafael. “The afternoon grows late. Perhaps it’s time we returned.”

Adelina looked at Silvana, who winked. The tension in Adelina’s chest dissolved. “How did you two enjoy your walk?” she said.

“It was lovely.” Silvana stretched, yawning. “Just me and my beloved brother.”

Rafael tugged his hat over his face, hiding what Adelina was certain was a murderous scowl. “Indeed, a treasured family moment. Come, then. To the coaches.”

Adelina watched as plains rolled by the coach window, dry grass glazed by the fading afternoon sunlight and ruffled by a hot breeze. Irena gazed in rapture at Rafael, not seeming to care as the motion of the coach jostled her, while Rafael glowered at the sun descending on the horizon. Silvana sat beside her brother, her eyes half-closed and her cheek in her palm.

The coach clattered to a halt outside the manor. Felise waited in the doorway with her hand in a pot of jam. “Ada!” She trotted to Adelina’s side. “Mother wants you to take tea with her in the drawing room. I’m coming too.”

Irena allowed Rafael to help her to the ground. “Not me too?” she asked.

“Just Ada.”

Silvana frowned and glanced at her brother, who looked away. Irena smiled, seeming not to catch any of their unease. “In that case, Rafael and Silvana, may I offer you both some refreshments in the gardens?”

“I’d like that.” Silvana took off her hat and ran her fingers through her hair. “I shall likely see you at dinner, Adelina.”

“Indeed you shall.” There were any number of ways Adelina longed to bid Silvana farewell—a blown kiss, a coquettish wave, a suggestive wink. In deference to secrecy, she settled on a smile, which Silvana returned with a heated intensity in her eyes. Adelina had once found a smutty book in her father’s library that spoke at length of a woman’s “wanton eyes,” and at the time, she’d wondered what exactly wanton eyes might look like. Now she knew.

Adelina followed Felise into the manor. “How was the town?” said Felise, who skipped at every second step. She was so childlike for thirteen—at the same age, Adelina had already grown into a precocious, argumentative little adult. “I was very jealous when I heard you’d went.”

“We played with some puppies, and we saw a juggler. And we ate fruit pies.”

“Puppies!” Felise shook her tiny fist. “It’s so unfair. All I did was play in the garden and draw a bird.”

“Don’t sulk. We brought you back a sticky bun. It’s in Ira’s bag.”

“But I’m already full on jam.” Felise pulled her hand from the jar. “I probably shouldn’t let mother see that I took this.” She sat the jar on a shelf, placing it between two ornamental figurines, and chuckled. “Don’t tell anyone.”

“Of course I won’t. You know me.”

“More wicked than the Devil, that’s you!” Felise leaped the final distance to the drawing room door and pushed it open. “Mother, here she is.”

Mother lurked in one of the narrow armchairs in the center of the room. Motes of dust spiraled in the wan afternoon light, and the stuffy air harbored the faint odor of peppermint.

“Adelina.” Mother hooked the teapot with her fingers and poured black tea into a waiting cup. “Do sit down. Felise, you may sit and take tea with us, but please don’t fidget.”

Felise settled into her favorite divan. Adelina sat opposite them both in a creaking armchair and held the warm teacup in her hands. Mother looked at Felise’s hands and scowled. “You have jam all over your fingers, child!”

Felise sucked on her lower lip as if in deep thought. Her eyes grew cunning. “I fell in it.”

“You fell in jam?”

“Yes. I had my eyes closed because I was praying, and I tripped over and landed in some jam.”

“Deception is a sin, Felise.” Mother took a quick sip of tea. “Fortunately, our Creator has great patience.” She turned her watery blue eyes on Adelina, who sat very still. When she and Irena had been younger, they’d been convinced that Mother could see right into their heads and pluck out any guilty thoughts. Adelina was too old now for such notions, but she still held her breath every time that probing gaze fell upon her. “Did your sister behave herself today?”

“I’m surprised you even have to ask, Mother. Irena’s the good daughter, remember.”

“That tongue of yours needs blunting.” Mother arched a thin eyebrow. “But I may be partly to blame for your trenchant nature, so I won’t reprimand you.” Her fingers caressed the indented lip of her teacup. “More to the point then. Did this Rafael comport himself appropriately?”

“Like a gentleman. I don’t think they so much as brushed shoulders.”

“Where did he take you? Did he purchase any gifts?”

With Mother, a conversation always became an interrogation. She would have been an excellent magistrate.

“We spent most of the day at the marketplace and the park by the river,” Adelina said. “He bought her fruit pies, a bejeweled pin for her hat and a length of golden ribbon.” Best not to mention the cider.

“The marketplace. I suppose there were bawdy performers.”

“Just a juggler, Mother, and he was fully clothed.”

Mother’s cheeks twitched, and she frowned into her cup. Sometimes, just sometimes, Adelina managed to prod the sense of humor she knew lurked somewhere behind Mother’s grim exterior, and when it happened she always felt a surge of accomplishment.

“Very good,” said Mother, pursing her lips. “What’s your opinion of the man after a day in his company?”

“He’d make Irena very happy.”

Mother flapped a hand. “I have no desire to sound cold, but that’s hardly our primary consideration here. Is he reliable? Can he support her? If we’re to make the right decision for your sister, then we have to complete those estimations first.”

We? Adelina sipped her tea in an attempt to still the quivering in her stomach. Could it be that Mother genuinely respected her judgment?

“He has told your father that he possesses abundant wealth, that his land is profitable and his manor extensive. What do you think?”

“Truthfully, I don’t know. To see him spend, he acts like a man familiar with money.”

Felise slurped at her tea. “Girl, don’t drink like a pig!” Mother scowled, and Felise shrank into the cushions. “So, he may have this money, or he may not. Were this estate of theirs in the next town, or merely several days by coach, I wouldn’t be so apprehensive. But it’s weeks distant, and in a strange and dangerous land…”

“You don’t want her to end up in poverty and without her family close to help her.”

“Precisely.” Mother nipped the corner of a gingerbread biscuit. “Your father will pay a dowry, and quite a considerable one. But it won’t be enough to last the girl a lifetime. She needs a man who can keep her at the level of comfort she’s accustomed to.”

A flash of realization cleared Adelina’s thoughts. “You didn’t send me to act as chaperone, did you? You knew Irena would never let Rafael do anything inappropriate. You sent me to spy on him, because you don’t trust him.”

“I wouldn’t put it so crudely.” Mother brushed a crumb from her lips. “But God has seen fit to give us all talents, and in you he has planted a seed of shrewdness. Adelina, I don’t know what your father thinks or plans. But you have inherited his acumen and, moreover, are a woman of this household. Do you understand? If you love your sister, you’ll watch that man closely. His sister too.”

It was perhaps the longest that Mother had ever spoken to Adelina without disparaging her in some way for her morals, behavior or general spitefulness—one of Mother’s favorite words, at least when it came to describing her middle daughter. Adelina nodded. “I will, Mother. I don’t want Ira to be left impoverished or heartbroken either.”

“Good girl.” Mother’s nostrils flared. “Now, I must reprimand you. Last night, I observed that you played a prank on our guest, allowing her to offer you wine.”

Adelina took a quick breath. “She didn’t know our custom, and she merely wanted me to taste it. I thought it rude to say no.”

“You could have embarrassed her tremendously if anyone else had spotted your behavior. In the future, if somebody acts without knowledge of our traditions, you should politely inform them so. For the love of the saints, it appeared as if she were courting you, girl! Can you imagine how your father’s drunken friends would have laughed?”

Adelina forced a look of chagrin to her face, while inside, she capered and cheered at her escape. “I hadn’t thought…the possibility of that just never crossed my mind.”

“I don’t doubt you. It’s an absurdity. Just remember for the future.” Mother poured herself a second cup, dumped a heap of sugar into the tea and stirred with vigor. “She is an entirely odd woman. She exudes contrariness and impiety. I’ve never had anyone quarrel with me at my own table in such a manner, nor speak so brazenly of their sins.”