Vintage Love (94 page)

“Doesn’t that have to be proven?”

Della said, “Now that I have seen you I have no doubt it will be.”

The other girl looked up at her uneasily. “And then where will we be?”

“You can take your place in English society and assume your proper name of Irma Standish.”

“I do not want any of that,” the other girl objected. “I could not desert the Prince in his old age nor do I wish to leave Rome.”

Della said, “But it is the Prince who had me come here and who is pressing your claim to the Standish name and fortune.”

The girl’s lovely green eyes flashed angrily. “I opposed his doing so!”

“But he has gone ahead with it. I am here with my lawyer to find out the truth about you. It has gone too far not to be settled.”

“It is a mistake!”

Della raised her eyebrows. “Do you not wish to be my sister? To be restored to me. Have you any idea the anguish your kidnapping caused my parents?”

“I did not know them!” the other girl protested. “My father, the only father I will ever think of as mine, is Prince Sanzio.”

“Your devotion is touching,” she said. “But if you are proven my sister you will have money to help the Prince. And even he is willing to admit his need of such funds.”

Their frank discussion was interrupted by the return of Guido with a silver coffee service. He poured them each steaming cups and retired.

The girl sipped her coffee and said, “I’m sorry I frightened you last night. It did not occur to me that my entrance that way would seem unusual.”

“I was scared for a moment.”

The girl shrugged. “I had too much to drink. But I wanted to see you. To see if you did truly look like me.”

“I understand.”

“Please do not complain to my father,” the girl said in a pleading manner. “Let him think we met at breakfast.”

“If you wish,” Della said. “He was upset by your not being here for our arrival.”

The other girl’s pale face showed crimson spots at the cheekbones. She said, “I had to be somewhere else. I made a promise to a friend.”

She gazed at her knowingly over her coffee cup. “Was the friend Count Barsini?”

“How do you know about him?” the girl gasped.

“I know much which might surprise you,” Della said. “I have been told he is an evil man and that his power over you is unfortunate.”

The girl had not expected such a reaction from her lovely look-alike. Trembling with anger, she demanded, “How dare you repeat such things?”

“I’m sorry. It is only what I’ve been told.”

“Then someone told you wrong,” the girl went on, still in a rage. “Count Barsini is one of the most charming and cultured men in all Rome. I’m lucky he has chosen me as a friend.” She halted and then exclaimed, “Of course, it was Raphael who told you this nonsense. He is stupidly jealous of my friendship with Barsini!”

“That may be,” she said. “I do not know. I would like to meet this Barsini.”

The other girl stared at her. “Why?”

“Because he sounds like an interesting person,” Della said.

A veiled look came over the girl’s face. “You will no doubt meet him sometime.”

“I would like to,” Della said.

“How long do you plan to remain here?” the other girl asked her.

“Until my lawyer is satisfied of your identity.”

“I resent being judged like some sort of animal,” the girl said tensely. “I want none of this.”

“I’m afraid it has been started and we’ll have to go through with it now,” Della said in placating fashion. “My lawyer is a fine young man named Henry Clarkson. We plan to marry.”

“He is your fiancé?”

“Yes. And you are to marry Prince Raphael. He seems an attractive man.”

“He takes too much for granted.”

“Is that why you delayed your marriage to him?”

The girl looked down. “That and other things,” she said.

At that moment Prince Sanzio wheeled himself into the room. In a tone of relief, he observed, “So you two girls have met.”

“Yes,” Della said with a smile. “We are almost old friends now.”

The other girl spoke up: “I have told her she should go back to England, Father. That I’m content with things as they are here.”

The frail old man smiled sadly. “I had no choice but to notify Miss Standish. The letter that woman left behind was clear. You were the victim of a kidnapping.”

“Am I not still the victim?” the girl asked bitterly. “My life is being upset by this discovery. I would be happier to go on as I am.”

“I disagree with you,” Prince Sanzio said. “None of this will make you any less my daughter. I did adopt you. But it will bring you your rightful inheritance.”

Della said, “I can understand it is still a shock. I’m sure Irma will feel differently later.”

Irma said, “I grew up thinking I was the child of a servant fortunate enough to be adopted. Now it seems I was cheated from the start.”

“The pain you may feel is small beside that which our parents felt,” Della told her. “And I have often known grief at wondering what happened to you. So we should try to make this a joyful reunion.”

“Perhaps,” the other girl said, rising. “But do not blame me if I hope that your lawyer decides I’m not your sister!” And with this she turned and left the dining room.

Prince Sanzio stared after her sadly. “I’m afraid she is in a badly mixed-up state.”

“I hope she feels better about it later,” Della said.

“I’m sure she will,” the old man agreed. “Meanwhile, I’m having my lawyers meet with Mr. Clarkson, beginning today. There are the various documents to be authenticated as well as certain articles which the dead woman left to verify her statement. Some children’s clothing, several written notes from your parents, items of that nature to substantiate her story.”

“I will leave all that to Henry except when he wishes me to identify any personal objects or letters in my parents handwriting,” she said. “My aunt may also be helpful in this regard.”

“So you will enjoy Rome while you wait to learn the answer,” the man in the wheelchair said.

She smiled grimly. “I do not need to wait to know. Having seen Irma and talked with her, I’m positive she is my sister. There is a feeling which tells me so. I think she has experienced it as well. That is why she protested so much. She knew we are on the right path.”

“That could well be,” the old Prince said with a sigh. “As I explained to you, she is not an easy person to deal with.”

“It is a Standish quality, I fear,” Della said wryly.

When she and the old man went out to the patio they met Henry and Aunt Isobel, who were returning from a stroll in the gardens.

Prince Sanzio told the young lawyer, “You may go to my lawyer’s office as soon as you like.”

“I will leave at once,” he said.

“My carriage will take you,” the Prince said. “And afterward it will take the ladies anywhere they might enjoy visiting.”

“I should just like to be driven about the city and enjoy its atmosphere without stopping anywhere special.” Aunt Isobel said. “It wearies me to trudge through museums and ruins.”

“I think I shall let you go alone,” Della said. “I wish to rest a little and later I amy seek out some special place by myself.”

Prince Sanzio told her aunt, “I shall deem it a pleasure to accompany you if I may. With help I can get into the carriage and I can point out places of interest to you if I do not have to leave the vehicle.”

“I don’t wish to impose,” Aunt Isobel said, looking pleased at the prospect.

“It will be a rare and excellent outing for me,” the old Prince said with gallantry. “I shall enjoy seeing the city through your eyes.”

So it was all arranged. Della took Henry aside for a moment to speak privately. She said, “Try and get this settled as soon as you can.”

“You may be sure of that,” he said. “What was your impression of Irma?”

“A strange, troubled girl.”

“I agree,” he said. “I’m sure whatever sinister thing has taken place, she knows a good deal about it.”

“I agree,” Della said. “That is why I want to know as soon as possible if she is my sister.”

“Then we can get away from here,” Henry said.

“Perhaps,” she said. “I’d like to see some of the city and find out why we’ve been trailed and attacked.”

“I’d just as soon not find out as long as the attacks end,” Henry said bleakly.

Then he left for the city and she went upstairs. She did not see Irma again until after luncheon. Then the girl came to her and said, “It is siesta time. Everyone rests until about four in the afternoon. Then we resume our activities again. I’m going to do some shopping. If you came along it would give us a chance to know each other better.”

“I’d like that,” Della agreed.

“Very well,” Irma said. “Be ready at four. I shall hire a carriage to take us to the street where I wish to see my cobbler. I have left favorite shoes with him and wish to pick them up.”

A strange calm came over the old palace during the quiet two hours of the siesta. Prince Sanzio and Aunt Isobel were also leaving around four in the Prince’s single carriage.”

Della was dressed with straw hat to shield her from the afternoon sun and also a dainty parasol to use when riding in the carriage. Irma met her in the reception hall and they went out and almost immediately were able to get a carriage.

As they drove along they passed a small, informal piazza. Street vendors had their little carts set up and were crying out their wares. There was a fountain and an area for children to play. Small boys, brown as eels, splashed in the generous basin of the fountain while their little sisters looked on wistfully. Irma told her this fountain was the sole supply of water for the tangle of small streets around it.

They reached a short street called the Via Leonina. Irma paid the driver and they left the carriage and strolled along its narrow width, passing cycle shops, a printer’s and a weaver of baskets, eventually reaching a dark little cubicle whose smell of leather mixed nicely with the aroma of the cobbler’s pipe.

The old man bowed when he saw Irma. “I have your pumps ready, Princess,” he said. And he went off into the back darkness of the shop to get them.

Irma said, “There is a fine little café a few doors down. We’ll stop by for espresso.”

“I’d like to,” Della agreed.

The old man returned with a pair of elegant pumps and gave them to Irma to examine. “I think they will be satisfactory,” he said. And then he let his ancient eyes wander to Della and a startled expression crossed his withered face. He croaked, “There are two of you!”

Della smiled, “I am her twin.”

The old man continued to look astonished. “I did not know,” he said. “Welcome to my poor shop, Princess.”

Della said, “I’m afraid I’m not a princess. I grew up in England.”

Irma broke in, “The shoes are fine. Don’t try to understand the mystery of us. Just wrap the shoes up and I will pay you.”

The old cobbler bowed again. “Certainly, Princess.”

They left the shop with Irma carrying her parcel. She gave her a wry look and said, “You see the confusion our being together causes. Even the cobbler was upset!”

“I’m sorry to embarrass you,” Della told her.

“The café is just ahead,” Irma told her.

It was a small place and they sat at a sidewalk table. Irma ordered the espresso and while they were waiting for it, said, “Please excuse me for a few minutes. I wish to drop by the shop of the man who makes my handbags. And I don’t wish to do a lot of explaining about who you are.”

Della smiled. “Very well. I’ll wait for you here.”

“Watch my parcel,” the other girl said. “I won’t be long.”

The other girl went off down the street and vanished in the host of shoppers who continually filled the area. She sat back to wait for the espresso and enjoy the sights. She saw that the parcel with the shoes was carefully placed under the table where it would be out of the way.

All at once she heard a voice exclaim, “Miss Standish!” It was the fat, jolly Father Anthony. He doffed his hat and came over to her, looking warm in his black priestly robes. “What a delightful coincidence!”

“I’m glad to see you again,” she said. “I’m here waiting for my sister.”

“May I sit a moment?” he asked, indicating the empty chair across the table from her.

“Of course,” she said.

The priest mopped his bald pate. “It is always warm in Rome at this season.”

“I find it pleasant after the cool fog at home,” Della said.

“True,” he agreed. “And so you have found your sister?”

She nodded. “I’m almost positive about it.”

“No fear of her being an impostor?”

“I think there is small chance.”

“I’m glad for you,” the old priest said. “It is a good thing that you be restored to each other.”

“She is not as happy about it as I am,” Della said. “She claims she would prefer to remain here as Prince Sanzio’s daughter.”

“Indeed,” Father Anthony said. “Well, that is something which must be settled among yourselves.”

“Yes.”

“About the other matter?” he said warily.

She stared at him. “You mean the stolen Madonna?”

“Yes,” Father Anthony said, and leaned close to her over the table, “I do not wish what I’m about to say to be overheard.”

“Oh?”

“I have made some inquiries at the Vatican museums since my return,” the old priest said. “And I have found out what may be interesting news.”

“Please go on,” she begged him

In the same low voice, he continued, “A most despicable theft has taken place.”

“Tell me,” she urged him.

Fear showed on his oval face and he glanced around again to be certain there was no one among the passers-by listening to their talk. He said, “I talked with the director of the museums and I learned that the jeweled Madonna of St. Cecilia was removed from its vault for a check and cleaning. And while it was out for this purpose it suddenly vanished.”

“Was it not carefully guarded?”

“Most carefully,” Father Anthony said. “The good brother who was engaged in going over the treasure died at his desk, apparently of a heart attack. Only when it was noticed the Madonna was gone did they hold an autopsy to learn he had been poisoned.”