The Devil in Music (50 page)

He
turned. Francesca had closed the door behind her and was sidling
along the far wall. She was trembling, and her eyes were fixed on
Rinaldo's face.

"What
do you want?" he demanded.

Francesca
sank to her knees. "Please. Tell me something. Tell me
anything how tall they are, what they like to eat, whether Bianca's
eyes are still green, whether Niccolo still loves horses. Oh God,
Rinaldo, have pity on me! For six years I've heard nothing! I think
of them all the time their little faces and hands and the way they
smiled. I know they must have changed so much, and I'm missing it
all "

"Whose
fault is that?" Rinaldo retorted. "No one took them away
from you. You abandoned them."

"One
word, Rinaldo! It would cost you so little, and it would mean so
much to me! I'll do anything "

"Anything?"
He caught her up swiftly. "Leave your eunuch? Swear by God
and the Madonna never to see him again?"

"I
can't do that," she whispered.

"Then
what does all your whining and begging amount to?" He dragged
her up to face him and held her against the wall. "Slut! You
miss your children but not enough to give up your lover! And you
expect me to be sorry for you? You want me to let you spread
corruption over them teach Bianca to rut with eunuchs? I'd rather
bring them up in a brothel than let you near them not that it
wouldn't come to the same thing! But don't worry they won't forget
you! Every day I'm teaching them to say, "My mother is a whore'
"

Francesca
twisted in his arms. "I want to go "

"Oh,
you want to go! God forbid you should be shut up in a bedroom with
your husband! You filthy drab! You ought to be thanking God on your
knees that I'm still willing to take you back. But I expect you only
pray with your knees in the air!"

Francesca
sobbed and struggled. There was a rustling behind her.

"What's
that?" Rinaldo said sharply. "What are you hiding behind
your back?"

He
let go of her arms. She brought out a package wrapped in pink tissue
paper and offered it shakily. "It's it's for the children. You
wouldn't have to tell them where it came from. You could say it was
from you."

He
took it and unwrapped it. Inside were a porcelain doll dressed for a
ball and a perfect little coach drawn by four grey horses. Rinaldo
took the doll by the feet and swung her against the wall, shattering
her head and sending the pearl pins in her hair flying. He threw the
coach on the floor and ground his heel in it. Francesca swayed and
covered her mouth with her hands. "Madonna, help me "

"Get
out!"

She
moved unsteadily toward the door. When she reached it, she stopped
to dry her eyes and smooth her hair.

Rinaldo
jerked open the door. "Get out, I say!"

"Oh,
hush, please!" Francesca glanced fearfully toward the room
across the way.

"Whose
room is that?" said Rinaldo. "The eunuch's? Why don't
you want him to know you've been with me? Is he so jealous?"

"No."
Her eyes dilated. "No he "

Rinaldo
sprang forward and caught her by the wrist. "Let's find him and
tell him!"

"No!"
she cried. "Leave him alone, Rinaldo, please! I beg you "

He
drove her, stumbling and pleading, along the hall and down the stairs
to the Hall of Marbles. There were voices coming from the drawing
room. Rinaldo half dragged, half carried Francesca to the door and
pushed her in. She landed, staggering, almost under Valeriano's
nose.

Valeriano
steadied her and looked across at Rinaldo with astonishment and
dawning anger. Julian, MacGregor, Carlo, and the marchesa hastened
forward, ready to protect Francesca at need. Rinaldo looked beyond
them to his rival and laughed exultantly. "Do you know where
she's been, Signer Gelding? In my room, snivelling and begging for
some news of the children! That's how happy you've made her!"

Valeriano
held Francesca between his hands and tried to look into her face.
His own was very white. "Francesca, is this true?"

"No
no, Pietro I mean I did ask him about the children just because he
was here, and I might not have had another chance "

"Asked
me!" hooted Rinaldo. "She grovelled on her knees! "One
word, Rinaldo! Have pity on me, Rinaldo!" You should have seen
the spectacle she made! Look at her now just look at her face all
blotched and tearstained. What can you give her, monster, to make up
for what I gave her, and you took away?"

"Francesca,"
whispered Valeriano, "how could you not have told me? I thought
you'd got over the worst of your grief for the children. I thought
Mother of God, what fools love makes of us! that you were happy!"

"I
was! I am!" She tugged at his coat. "I do miss my
children and think of them, but it doesn't matter. I choose to stay
with you. I love you."

"I
see how you were able to deceive me," he said quietly. "I
don't know what it is to have children. I don't even have nephews or
cousins who might have taken their place for me. I can't hope to
understand your feelings. You counted on that."

"I
wasn't so cold-blooded. I only wanted to spare you pain. I knew you
would be laden with guilt and grief if you knew how I was " She
broke off.

"Suffering?"
he finished. "Yes, I would. Thank God it isn't too late to do
something about it." He drew a long breath. "Your husband
is mistaken, Francesca. I am not a monster. Signor Marchese, if
your

wife
breaks with me, will you take her back and restore her children to
her?"

Rinaldo's
eyes sparkled. "I've already told her I would."

"No!"
cried Francesca. "No, Pietro! What are you saying? I won't
leave you!"

"You
won't have to, my dearest love. Because I am leaving you."

"No!"
She flung her arms around him. "No, I won't let you! You're
mad!"

"I
am sane, Francesca, and I am resolved. I love you too much to keep
you from what you love even more than you love me. Don't you see?
As long as you live with me, you'll be torn apart."

"Do
you think I won't be torn apart if you leave me?"

"I
think your children can console you for my loss better than I can for
theirs. And " His throat closed. "And you can have more
children. They'll fill any emptiness I've left." He turned up
her face to his. "You would like that, wouldn't you?"

She
coloured and tried to look away.

"Yes,"
said Valeriano sadly. "I thought as much."

He
started to move away from her. She clung to him. He was so much
taller, he easily detached her. "Why?" she burst out.
"Why should I have children when you can't?"

"Why
should one man have anything that another would give his heart and
soul to gain? A priest knows that, not I. We're taught that in
Heaven we shall all be equal." Valeriano lost control of his
voice a little, and it wavered into the soprano range. "Perhaps
there won't even be any distinctions of male and female there. Have
you ever noticed that angels in paintings don't have beards or
breasts? When I was a boy, after I was cut, I used to wonder if they
were all castrati "

He
closed his eyes for a moment. When he opened them, he was fairly
composed. He went to Beatrice and kissed her hands. "Thank
you, Marchesa, for your hospitality, and for your kindness to
Francesca. I entreat you to remain her friend she'll need such
friends as you. I shan't be staying for dinner I shall leave as soon
as my things are packed."

"Where
will you go, Pietro?" asked Francesca in a hollow voice.

"Back
to Venice." He went to her, took her hand, and lifted it to his
lips. For a long moment he looked into her upturned face.
"Goodbye," he said softly. "God keep you, my angel my
one and only love."

He
tore himself from her and walked rapidly toward the door. Ri naldo
shot out a hand to detain him. "I'll have her breeding again in
a month," he promised.

Valeriano
permitted himself a single look of white-hot hatred. Then he was
gone.

Francesca
swayed suddenly. Beatrice was at her side in a moment and helped her
into a chair. Julian poured a glass of red wine from a decanter in a
corner and brought it to Beatrice, who coaxed Francesca to take a few
sips. Rinaldo looked on scornfully.

"My
dear Rinaldo," said Beatrice, "after so much upheaval, you
can't think of rushing away after dinner. I should be so pleased if
you and Francesca would spend the night here. Now that Signer
Valeriano is leaving, you may have his room."

"I
don't want his room!" Rinaldo retorted. "If I stay, you
can put me in with my wife. That's where I belong."

Francesca
gasped and covered her face.

Beatrice
looked wry. "Of course, Rinaldo, if that's what you wish.
You'll stay, then?"

"Yes,"
said Rinaldo, satisfied. "I'll stay."

"Why
don't you rest here for a while?" Beatrice proposed to
Francesca. "I'll have dinner delayed another half an hour. I
don't think, after all this excitement, anyone is in a great hurry to
eat."

Julian
realized she wanted to keep Francesca in the drawing room until
Valeriano had gone. Francesca was too exhausted to understand. She
sat back in her chair, closing her eyes. But the next moment her
eyes flew open and looked fearfully toward Rinaldo.

Carlo
said to her quickly, "I'll keep you company, shall I?"

"I
can keep her company," said Rinaldo.

"My
boy, I should be delighted to keep you both company," Carlo
said. "It's been so long since I've seen you."

Rinaldo
dropped ungraciously into a chair. Francesca closed her eyes again.
A more uncongenial family reunion, Julian had never seen.

The
marchesa sent word to the kitchen to keep the dinner warm half an
hour longer. Then she and Julian walked out onto the terrace. The
fair weather of the festival had stolen away. The air was damp, the
lake grey and dappled with reflections of cloud. Mist huddled in the
hollows between the mountains. Julian and Beatrice stood looking
over the balustrade at a lone swan floating on the leaden water.

"Rinaldo
isn't much like his father," Julian said.

"I'm
glad you see that. Lodovico wasn't mean-spirited. He had to have
his way, but once he'd triumphed, he could forgive and forget.
Rinaldo is like his mother, both in looks and in temperament. They

were
both weak-willed, terrified of Lodovico, cruel and vindictive to
others in order to make themselves feel less small and contemptible.
I don't envy Francesca. Rinaldo will never let her forget what she
did to him. He'll make her pay, not only for her humiliation of him,
but for Lodovico's as well. And that's a score she'll never be able
to settle, if she lives a hundred years."

"Can
you do anything for her?"

She
pondered. "I shall try to make him see that mistreating her
will only keep the scandal of her infidelity alive, when it's in his
interest to bury it. That may have some effect. In the meantime,
I'm glad I prevailed on him to stay the night. I was really afraid
of what Francesca might do if she were borne away to the castle and
isolated with him and his servants."

Her
mention of Rinaldo's servants reminded Julian of the footmen. He had
set Dipper to find out all he could from them about why they had been
so agitated at seeing de la Marque. It was a tantalizing lead, and
it could not have come at a more opportune time. This was Monday
evening. Lucia had only two days left.

Out
of the corner of his eye, he saw Fletcher and St. Carr approaching
along the shore path. They came onto the terrace, bowed over the
marchesa's hand with proper English stiffness, and greeted Julian,
then launched into an account of their visit to Lucia that afternoon.
Julian, who had heard nothing of this, cursed himself for his
excursion to Villa Pliniana, which had left Lucia at Grimani's mercy.
He ought to have known Grimani would have found some way to harass
her.

"The
man is a devil!" Fletcher said roundly. "He reads her
like a book, and threatens her with everything he knows she would
fear most. And in spite of it all, she was so brave, so " He
caught himself up short, and looked away.