PALERMO, FEBRUARY 1860
The noise of rain, coming in a sudden downpour, made Carina look up from the letter she was writing. She went over to the window and stood with her fingers absently tracing the pattern of raindrops on the glass. It was on days such as this that she missed Alice most. The morning her aunt left for England, she hadn’t gone to see her off. Alice said it would be too upsetting, so Anna Maria went in her place. When they had said goodbye at the house they had both wept. Then, yesterday, a letter arrived from Alice announcing her engagement to Sir Anthony Farne.
Alice wrote that a small wedding was planned in March and there was no need for her to come home.
‘The timing is most propitious now that you’re settled, dearest. We are to live in Northumberland, but Anthony appreciates the close bond between us. When you return I will travel south to be with you in London. The house in Mount Street will remain open and everything just as it was before …’
No, it would not! How could it be? Last night Carina had hardly slept. She paced her bedroom until dawn. Alice hadn’t abandoned her, she told herself over and over again. It was only because she was lonely that she was upset. She loved Alice and this was what she wanted for her.
‘I am delighted to receive your wonderful news.’ She began her reply. ‘I know that you and Anthony will find true happiness together. My only sadness is that I will miss your wedding … I’m not sure when Oliver expects my sojourn in Sicily to come to an end – but my grandmother has asked me to stay for as long as I want. I have no desire to return to London, at present, and expect to remain in Palermo until after the summer.’
How she wished Paulo and Gabriella were still here. They had returned to their studies a week after Baron Riso’s ball. Paulo did not mention the evening again, but he hadn’t forgotten, Carina was sure. She tried not to think about him, but Ben Mavrone was constantly on her mind. Where had he gone? Which part of Sicily was his home? How could she find out more about him? He had become an obsession and she couldn’t get him out of her head.
She was too much alone, Carina decided, and sent a card to Jane Parsons. A note came back informing her Miss Parsons was in Rome. Palermo was deserted and her only consolation was the time she spent with her grandmother. They talked about her mother and Nonna gave her Sonia’s letters to read. Her mother wrote with verve. She was outspoken and confident, in love with her husband and looking forward to the birth of her first child. That part brought tears to Carina’s eyes and Nonna patted her hand.
‘Sonia would be very proud of you, Carina. You’re like her in so many ways. Once she decided on a course of action, she never wavered from it.’
One evening, to give her granddaughter some younger company, the contessa invited a group of Paulo’s friends, including Enrico Fola, to dinner. Carina bit her tongue through the social niceties until she could venture the one question she wanted to ask: if there was news of Captain Mavrone.
‘He’s not in Palermo. No one knows if he’s even in Sicily.’
It was obvious Enrico didn’t want to talk about Mavrone and Carina wondered if Paulo had said anything. She would kill him if he had, but she was not to be put off. She could have no peace until she tracked him down and placed her hopes in her budding friendship with Bianca Scalia. The princess had come for tea and invited her to stay at their country villa. She had also spoken of her mother.
‘When I was growing up, Sonia was the person I admired most in the world. She was both beautiful and kind. It was so romantic when a dashing naval officer swept her off to England! All of us girls swooned with envy.’
The sound of a dog barking broke into her thoughts and Carina went back to the bureau. She had wasted half the morning dreaming and would finish her letter to Alice this afternoon. There was just time before lunch to dash a line off to Harry. She had told him of the vendetta between Prince Scalia and Captain Mavrone, mentioning in passing she had met them both.
Harry’s response was typical.
‘Do take care, Carrie. Remember your promise and leave this matter well alone.’
Carina reached for a fresh piece of paper. Harry was right not to trust her, she thought as she wrote in a fast, sloping hand.
I have been invited to stay at the Villa Pallestro by Bianca Scalia. The visit is a timely diversion, although I doubt I will discover the truth. Have no fear, dear Harry. I shall act decorously and with the utmost discretion.
‘There is the Villa Pallestro!’
Bianca Scalia leant forward, pointing out of the carriage window. They were bowling along the coast road towards the village of Bagara and Carina saw a large house standing on a hill. The ride from Palermo had taken less than two hours and as Carina straightened her gloves, smoothing the soft leather between her fingers she realised Bianca had asked her a question.
‘I’m sorry. My mind was far away.’
‘I was wondering if you miss your family and friends in England?’
‘I miss my aunt, but Palermo is more agreeable than London at this time of year. The carnivale was a delight and I enjoyed the ball given by Baron and Baroness Riso.’
‘May I ask you a favour, Miss Temple?’ Bianca hesitated. Then looked at her squarely. ‘Please would you refrain from mentioning that evening to my husband? He is no friend of Baron Riso.’
It was the opening Carina needed, but there was no chance to take the conversation further. The carriage rattled through iron gates and up a cypress-lined avenue, coming to a halt in front of a large villa with a columned facade. Two lines of servants bowed and curtsied as they entered and Bianca led the way through salons scented with flowering lilies to the drawing room.
Wherever her eye alighted, Carina saw the Scalia emblem of a dragon entwined in the Bourbon fleur-de-lys. It was carved into marble, engraved on brass and every inch of plaster on the walls was painted with frescoes. There were animals and birds, gods and goddesses reclining on celestial clouds, and a ceiling painted blue with a scattering of gold stars. The villa was far grander than she had expected, and when the butler took Bianca aside, Carina wandered over to the window to look out.
The garden was laid out in the classical style, with topiary and statues. Beyond it, the road to Palermo stretched like a ribbon through green fields.
‘I’m afraid there’s been a delay,’ Bianca said, coming up behind her. ‘Your maid and luggage have only just arrived. They left Palermo before us and I don’t understand.’
‘I am more than happy to wait—’
‘Riccardo never said anything! I’m so sorry.’
‘Please don’t worry on my account. I will refresh myself later.’
‘Are you sure?’
Bianca’s restless gaze scanned the road to Palermo and Carina had no idea why she was so concerned. After a light lunch, she was shown to her room and lay down on a chaise longue, listening to Rose’s mutterings as she hung up her dresses.
‘I’ve never known such a palaver! You’d have thought Old Nick was under the seat the way the soldiers carried on. Gino told them we were on our way to the Villa Pallestro, but they took not a blind bit of notice!’
‘What do you suppose they were looking for?’
‘Revolutionaries and such like.’ Rose held up a skirt, assessing it for creases, her tone as matter of fact as if she were discussing the traffic in Piccadilly. ‘Gino says the authorities discovered a hornets’ nest in Palermo. The military are rounding suspects up from here to Messina, but they’re wasting their time. The rebels are far too slippery to be caught by a bunch of idiots! He told me so – right in front of the soldiers.’
And that, no doubt, was why the Denuzio carriage had been held at the side of the road for most of the morning, Carina concluded. A nervous frisson ran through her. Was it also the reason Bianca was so agitated? Thoughts and questions darted through her mind; she had to speak to Bianca before Prince Scalia arrived.
With this in mind, Carina changed for dinner early, but when she arrived downstairs it was Prince Scalia and not his wife who awaited her in the drawing room. A footman served champagne on a silver salver and the prince took a flute and handed it to her. The bubbles tickled her nose and she made an attempt to be gracious.
‘You’re most indulgent, Your Excellency. Champagne is quite my favourite of all the French wines.’
‘I’m delighted to hear it. We don’t stand on formality at the villa. I hope you will consider yourself on intimate terms with us.’ Prince Scalia twisted the stem of his glass between his thumb and fingers. ‘I’ve arranged to take you riding in the morning. It will be a pleasure to show you our estate. Bianca is happy to provide you with the suitable attire and will lend you her mare.’
Carina might have prevaricated, but just then the door opened and Bianca came in, accompanied by a black-frocked priest. Father Domenico had soft, plump hands and she caught a whiff of rosewater as he was introduced. He embarked on a long story about her uncle and Carina saw the prince greet Bianca with a kiss on the cheek before he gave her his arm and led them into the dining room.
Dinner was a sumptuous meal of pasta followed by fish and then meat. The moment Carina finished one course, her plate was whisked away to be replaced by another and she lost count of how many times her glass was refilled. She felt light-headed as she listened to Prince Scalia and Father Domenico discussing local matters. There was no mention of roadblocks and when the footmen withdrew, she remarked casually, ‘My maid tells me they were held up on the road due to trouble in Palermo.’
Carina folded her hands together as Prince Scalia took a cigar from the box and held it under his nose. She was surprised he didn’t wait for the ladies to withdraw, but customs were different in Sicily. He struck a match and inhaled until the end glowed.
‘I apologise for any inconvenience, but we’re obliged to enforce extra measures of security.’
‘Not more arrests, Your Excellency?’ Father Domenico asked.
‘The action we take is not of our choosing, Padre. If the rebels continue their subversion, then we use all our powers to destroy them.’
‘What extra measures, precisely?’ Bianca’s hand reached for the heart-shaped locket. Her fingers clasped it briefly.
‘Every man of working age will be questioned and anyone who can’t provide evidence of employment or lodging taken to Palermo for investigation. Not a single traitor will slip through our net this time.’
For a time no one spoke. The atmosphere in the room seemed to close in and Carina glanced at Bianca. She was completely still, not even her hands moved, and her eyes were veiled by lowered eyelashes.
‘It’s been a successful exercise,’ the prince continued. ‘Once we get the prisoners to Palermo, we have the means to make them confess. I’m confident we will extract all the evidence necessary to condemn them.’
In the first instance, Carina was not sure she had heard him right. For Prince Scalia to confirm the allegations made against him so complacently outraged her. She couldn’t let him get away with it! She meant to speak calmly but anger sharpened her voice.
‘Surely you don’t have authority to arrest innocent men when no crime has been committed?’
‘If the security of the State is threatened, all men are guilty until proved innocent. Those who speak against the king must answer for their opinions – even if they expound only hot air.’
Prince Scalia dropped a column of ash into a dish and inclined his head towards her.
‘The more prominent the rebels are, the greater danger they present. Liberals like Baron Riso believe they live a charmed existence, but they’re not beyond our reach. Take your friend, Enrico Fola. His family enjoy the trust of our beloved monarch and yet he belongs to a secret society bent on treachery.’
‘I’ve never heard Enrico Fola speak against the king!’
‘We’ve placed Baron Riso and Enrico Fola under close surveillance.’ Scalia ignored her intervention. ‘It’s only a question of time before they become careless and then we’ll have them.’
So the prince had been informed of her visit to the Palazzo Riso. Was he also aware Ben Mavrone had been there that evening? Carina could feel Bianca’s gaze across the table, willing her to stay silent, but caution was swallowed by indignation.
‘My grandmother gave me permission to attend the reception. Am I to infer you’ve also placed her under surveillance?’
‘I believe the Contessa Denuzio was misled as to the nature of Baron Riso’s invitation. I shall write and advise her to put an end to your association with such people – and the sooner the better.’
‘I’m not given to jumping at shadows, Your Excellency. There were no traitors in Baron Riso’s home—’
‘My husband isn’t implying you did anything wrong, Carina. He’s only concerned for your safety.’
‘Well said, Bianca.’ The prince looked approvingly at his wife. ‘Miss Temple doesn’t appreciate having her friends chosen for her. Indeed, we’re privileged that she honours us with her presence.’
‘We live in difficult times, Miss Temple. It’s hard to know who one can trust.’ Father Domenico sounded flustered.
‘Thank you, Padre, but I’m quite capable of looking out for myself.’
‘Of course, you’re a woman of the world and should be respected as such.’
The bite of malice in Scalia’s words was not lost on Carina. The wine had made her rash, but as they went through to the salon, she saw his expression change. No longer supercilious, the prince’s regard was hard and intense and it seemed he was attracted by her defiance. He said goodnight at the bottom of the stairs and she followed Bianca down the corridor to her bedroom.
Rose helped her undress and Carina sat down to brush her hair. Prince Scalia is a calculating, clever man. I must keep him at arm’s length, she thought. I will be aloof but not unfriendly. I will simply ask him why Paulo dislikes Captain Mavrone. That should be enough to provoke a reaction. It won’t get Paulo into trouble – and by this time tomorrow, I will have learnt something.