The Echoes of Love (32 page)

‘I still don't understand what you're telling me, Ernestina.
What
witch?'

‘Antonio's niece, Allegra, the young woman riding a horse this morning who passed by you when you were…' the servant gave an embarrassed little cough, ‘umm… with the
signore
.'

Venetia felt her cheeks burn. ‘I don't see what this has to do with the young lady in question, or with you for that matter,' she replied calmly.

‘Please don't get me wrong. I'm not trying to intrude,
signorina
. God forbid that I should meddle in either yours or
Signor
Barone's business, but this girl is dangerous. She has the
Malocchio,
the evil eye.'

‘It's very kind of you to worry about me, Ernestina. But you see, I don't give credence to all these superstitions, if some kind of hocus-pocus black magic is what you're meaning to suggest. Anyhow, things like the evil eye don't affect people who don't believe in them.'

‘
Signorina
, with all due respect, you may think that I'm an ignorant, superstitious Italian peasant, but Antonio and his niece come from Elba, like me, and we are from the same small village of San Stefano di Camastra. I knew the family, and Allegra was born bad to bad parents. She was treated cruelly, it is true, but it was like pouring petrol on a fire already out of control. Whether it was bad genes or the evil that surrounded her,
chi lo sa
, who knows, but from a young age, she was
cattiva
, manipulative. Already as a child, she started dabbling in witchcraft. She fell in with
un cerchio del male,
an evil circle, which was poisoning her mind even more with their wicked rites of sorcery and black magic. That's why in the end Antonio had to move to the North when Allegra was seven. He spent some time in Porto Ercole and when a few years later
Signor
Barone was looking for builders to help with the restoration of Miraggio, he found
buon lavoro
, steady work here for him and his niece.'

‘Where are Allegra's parents?'

‘They died when the child was only five. The father, Antonio's brother, was a drunkard. Her mother was a well known
matta,
madwoman, and the town strumpet to boot. She and the father completely neglected the small child. Antonio and his wife, Angelina, were kindly folk and they took in the little girl. When Angelina suddenly fell ill and died, Antonio continued caring for Allegra, but she was still wild. Then the father ended up dead in a ditch not long after – no one knows how, but no doubt to do with his drinking. Ah,
madre di dio
!' Ernestina lifted her arms to the sky. ‘That's when things became even worse. The child's interest in the dark arts grew, and Antonio took her away to the North. By the time they came to
Miraggio, Allegra was eleven. She was as fully developed as a girl of sixteen, and she knew all there was to know of good and evil – mainly evil. She had been taught by a preacher to read and write and add up sums, but the girl had no affection for anyone. She was moody, headstrong, and beautiful
come un angelo
, but she brooded in that cottage the
signore
provided for her and her uncle, and roamed the hills. Occasionally, she came out with furies and rages that frightened anyone who happened to witness them. It was me who spoke to
Signor
Barone about her in the end. She was causing trouble among the workers and I wanted him to dismiss Antonio because of the girl.

‘Anyway, that got the
signore
's curiosity going, and he asked to meet with the child. I brought her to him.
Madre di dio
, I will never forget how she looked up at him with her black, lovely eyes and stretched out her arms to him with a cry: “
Portami via, Portami via
, take me away.” The rest followed quickly.' Ernestina sighed. ‘The
signore
è buono come il pane
, he's as good as bread,
è
molto sensibile,
very sensitive, and he took her under his wing. This exquisite child could not be left to rot, he said. He would save her.'

Yes, Venetia thought, it would be so like Paolo to want to save another thing, a person this time, from destruction.

‘So he put her in a convent, where she rebelled at first, but her cleverness and ambition soon won over her wildness. She was shamed by her own ignorance and set herself to study to become a lady. The girl quickly realised that sullenness and furies got her nowhere…
era più saggio accattivarsi le persone,
it was wiser to win people, make them worship her. And she succeeded, but she herself never knew affection for anyone.
Cambiano i suonatori ma la musica é sempre quella
, the singer changes but the song stays the same. She will never be a good girl.' Ernestina shook her head. ‘All this is to tell you,
signorina,
that Allegra is very possessive of
Signor
Barone. I know for sure, she does not only regard him as her protector, but both she and Antonio are hoping that he will marry her one day…
Come Dio mi é testimone
, as God is my witness, I have heard them plotting this with my own ears that will be eaten by the worms one day.'

‘And what does
Signor
Barone think of that great plan?' Even though Venetia thought the old woman's words were somewhat melodramatic, she couldn't resist asking the question, quietly eager for a clue to Paolo's feelings for this dangerously alluring girl.

‘The
signore
is a lonely man,
signorina
, and the girl is a
scaltra tentatrice
, beautiful and wily temptress. When she speaks to him she knows how to make her voice soft and caressing…
una puttana in incognito.
'

‘I really don't see what it has to do with me, and why you're telling me all this.'

‘
Signorina,
may the sky fall upon me if I speak out of turn, but… the
signore
is blinded by his affection and pity for this young woman, who he has seen grow up. And, as far as I can see, he has invested
un sacco di soldi,
a stack of money, into the bargain. He is a very melancholy man, the
signore
. He still grieves for his dead wife who he has never forgotten. Allegra brings colour to his life
sicuramente
and if I thought that she would make him happy, I would not have talked to you in this way,
signorina
. But she has a biting tongue, and a cruel heart – hurting people is her way, and most of all she doesn't love him.
Lei è come una sanguisuga
, she's like a leech, always asking for this and that.'

Venetia raised her eyebrows. Clearly Paolo had forgotten his wife but she was not about to bring up his amnesia with Ernestina, knowing next to nothing about the housekeeper or how much she knew about her employer. She wondered what else was unreliable about Ernestina's information.

‘My dear Ernestina, you seem to think that I have influence over
Signor
Barone. I'm here to restore mosaics in an old church, not to meddle with my client's problems of the heart.' Venetia inwardly winced at the irony of her own words.

‘
Signorina, mi permetta di dire
… I saw you and the
signore
this morning...
come dire
… you know… I was going to go back to the kitchen from the garden when I saw Allegra go past you, so I stood behind the tree as I knew she was up to no good, and then when I saw that
Signor
Barone was leaving, I came over.'

‘Well, since you saw us this morning, I don't know what you're worried about. Doesn't that show that maybe your fear of Allegra's power over the
signore
is a little unfounded?'

‘I also saw the hatred in her eyes. She was born under a Black Moon, which some say is a bad omen. I tell you, she has a dark power that, whether from this earth or from another world, is dangerous. She will harm you if she can,
signorina
, even if it means hurting the
signore
, and you must guard against it.'

Venetia stood up. ‘You're very sweet, Ernestina, to worry about me. I can't speak for
Signor
Barone, of course, but really, I don't believe in all this mumbo jumbo and so I assure you, it can't touch me.' She smiled and kissed the old servant on the cheek. ‘And now I must go and join my client in his study. Whatever you saw this morning, that doesn't mean that we don't have work to do.'

The woman seemed touched by Venetia's affectionate gesture. ‘I knew as soon as I saw you,
signorina,
that you would be good for our
signore
…
un balsamo che se messo su una ferita la curerebbe,
a balm which if put on a wound would cure it. He carries a lot of sadness in his heart and there's a kindness that radiates from you. You're good for him and him for you, because I can see in your eyes that you have also known unhappiness in your life. We say in Italy, “
siete entrambi della stessa stella,
you're both of the same star,” which means that you two are born for each other.'

As Venetia made her way to Miraggio she wondered again at Ernestina's words. She hadn't mentioned anything about Paolo's amnesia, and probably knew nothing of it, judging by her comments about his dead wife, so probably her reference to his sadness must concern his widowhood and the tragic way it had come about.

Again, it was not clear from Ernestina whether or not the young woman was in fact Paolo's mistress, though the housekeeper would see Allegra and Paolo together all the time and would know if Antonio's niece was scheming to marry him. And if that was the case, surely the young Amazon had already weaselled herself into his bed, and surely Paolo being the hot-blooded man he was, he wouldn't have pushed away her advances? Venetia's heart became heavier with every step, as she made her way through the big house towards Paolo's office. Why should she expect more from him than other men?
He's human and Allegra is so beautiful, so utterly seductive. What man could hold out against her?

* * *

Paolo sat at his desk in the study, staring unseeingly out of the window, questions reflecting in his eyes. Why did he feel so restless… so lost… so utterly confused and in turmoil? The emotional charge he had felt in Venetia's arms that morning was like nothing he had experienced in this new life, and yet it had not been completely alien… He had read numerous books about amnesia and it was believed that some people only remember through touch, taste or smell… and for a split second, when he had reached his shattering climax inside her, he had felt that he was going back in time. There was something there, the return of something specific, and he momentarily surfaced on the shore of familiarity; but then immediately, like each time he had seemed to put his finger on a memory, the mirage lost itself again in the tragedy of his life.

One thing he was sure of: he was irremediably in love with Venetia. There had been no preparation for this, no leading up in soft degrees. It had been this way since that damp, misty evening he had rescued her in Venice, when looking into her eyes in the first few seconds it was as if he had pulled back a curtain. The intensity of the emotional flash memory that had come into his mind was so strong, so beautiful, he almost felt relief, but again it had vanished nearly as quickly as it had occurred, to join the dead wreckage of his past.

And now Paolo knew he could not live without Venetia. Was that because, somehow, she was jogging his amnesic memory? The psychologist who had followed his progress for two years, until he was quite sure Paolo could stand on his own two feet, had told him that the return of memory could not be prompted by somebody else, it had to come back from within.

Still, when he was with Venetia, Paolo felt secure; even without regaining his forgotten identity, she represented the promise of a life where he could find happiness. Together they would make their own past, live in the present and plan for the future. Venetia had also been aware of that connection; he could feel it.

Paolo allowed his mind turn to their lovemaking that morning, playing back the moment when Venetia let the robe slide from her shoulders to the floor. A new fantasy took over, where he was kneeling in front of her and drawing her towards him, gently probing the delicate, secret corolla of her most intimate part with his lips and his tongue to taste the soft ripe fruit that trembled inside her, sending a series of erotic images dancing across his mind's eye. He could almost hear the helpless little moans in the back of her throat, see the mixture of yearning and rapture in her eyes, which turned flame-coloured when she was aroused, making the insistent, throbbing ache in his groin intensify to an unbearable pitch.

It would soon be Easter; he would take her away to Capri, or perhaps to one of the islands for a few days, and after that ask her to marry him. There was no time to waste; he had lost enough years. Was he being unrealistic, building castles in the clouds, pretending that nothing more divided them now? Was he living for this singular moment in a golden haze, outside time? Would she want to take on a man of whom she knew almost nothing? And even if he told her what had been related to him about himself and his past, would she believe him? It was all so extraordinary.

Paolo knew a moment of panic. When Giovanna Lombardi had rung him to say that Venetia would be taking on his assignment after all, he had amassed a whole store of words to say to her when she arrived – the truth about himself, everything he'd wanted to tell her right from the start. Now that store was distressingly empty. He didn't want to frighten her off. There was an anxious side to Venetia, and until he'd found out the hurt that was eating away at her, he believed it best to tread with muffled steps.