Si nous pouvions, vis-à-vis, voir notre avenir,
A quoi bon le fait de vivre nos jours?
Si notre vie s’épandait visible devant nous,
Pourquoi donc nous intéresserions-nous à la lutte?
—Fayard
If the future we could see, what would the use of living be?
With all our life laid out before, what should we care to strive then for?
Février 1760
Bonifacio, Corsica
At the low spot in the path between the Citadel and the opposite ridge where the cottage sat, Arabella paused to rest, taking a seat on the stone wall that overlooked the turquoise water lapping at the short strip of sand below. The walk back from the cemetery was pleasant, for though it was winter, the day was sunny and the wind calm.
The burial had been attended by Alfredo’s friends and family, all of whom were kind to her. Father Matarese, the young priest Robert had hand picked for Sainte Marie Majeure, was a good man. Arabella liked him and appreciated his sincere concern for her loss. She was grateful Alfredo had been spared a lingering illness and had died peacefully.
The birth of her child was rapidly approaching and Arabella felt strong and content. She worried that with Alfredo gone, the child might be a problem when Richard and Christina arrived. But as Christina, too, would soon become a mother, Arabella hoped that two babies in the house would make things easier. She expected she would nurse Christina’s child as well as her own. As she stood up, she smiled. She was sure she and Christina would become friends. It remained to be seen how Richard would handle two women and his two children under the same roof.
That evening Tomas arrived with Robert’s letter. While the young man ate his supper Arabella unfolded the page.
Dearest Arabella,
I’m sorry to report that the trial has not gone well and Richard stands convicted of a murder he did not commit. But I beg you not to worry as I expect the King’s pardon will arrive soon and for extra persuasion I have appealed to the Pope. I am sure that the powers that be here in Arles will not dare stand against the King or the Pontiff in this matter.
When Richard is finally released,, his name will be cleared and he may choose to remain with Christina at Beauvu. It is too early to say, but when the decision is made I will inform you—as I’m sure he will.
I have not yet told him of the child as I do not wish to add to his concerns at the moment. I’m sure you understand and will forgive me. I’m sorry to say he doesn’t yet share my optimism about his eventual release.
So please, take care of yourself and the child. I felt I had to report the situation lest you hear it from someone else without my assurances that all will yet be well.
Your prayers are appreciated and needed. And mine are with you for the safe delivery of a healthy child.
Bless you and the child,
Robert
It took Arabella a moment to recover. All along she’d been reassured by Robert’s belief and Gérrard’s insistence that Richard would never stand trial. And now he stood convicted! She had seen far too much of life to believe Richard’s release was as inevitable as Robert seemed to think.
She pulled a coin from the drawer below the shelves that held her herbs.
“Tomas, I want you to come back to the Citadel with me. I must see Signora Sabatino.”
Tomas’s face went white and reflexively his fingers formed the sign against the evil eye. Though he tried to hide it, Arabella noticed.
“Tomas, shame on you! She’s only an old woman! Are women to be considered evil merely because they have attained a great age?” Then she smiled. “I suppose all men fear a wise woman. But come, we must go.”
When they crossed the drawbridge and entered the Citadel, Arabella sent Tomas ahead to let the Signora know she was coming. Thus, when she arrived, the kettle was on and she was welcomed into the ground floor rooms where the old woman made her home.
“Come in, my dear,” said the Signora, offering a toothless grin. Her great age bent her body toward the floor as she came to take Arabella’s hand, her dark eyes reflecting the pleasure of having a visitor. Tomas refused to come in, but promised to wait outside.
“Bah,” said the Signora. “He’s a good young man, but obviously needs to learn a little more of life. Now his grandfather, there was a man!” She was lost for a moment in some dim recollection, then recovered as she remembered Arabella was now Alfredo’s widow.
“Oh, dear, I’m sorry. I don’t mean to offend. It was a very long time ago…before you were on this earth.” She offered Arabella a seat at her table, which was cluttered with jars and herbs and several bowls of dried fruit. As she moved off to get the kettle she turned back. “Besides, it wasn’t old Alfredo who gave you that child now, was it?” She chuckled.
Arabella smiled. “No, it wasn’t.” The origin of her pregnancy was no secret on that end of the island.
The Signora poured the water into a cup, which had some dried ingredients in the bottom. The aroma was fragrant and soothing and Arabella didn’t question it. She’d known the Signora all her life and trusted her completely.
Before she took a seat, the Signora placed both her hands on Arabella’s swollen belly and closed her eyes. She smiled.
“A fine healthy boy you have in there. He will bring you joy.”
Arabella was grateful for the reassurance, but it wasn't the child that had brought her.
“Signora, I need you to see the future for me.”
“Have I not told you that the child will bring you joy? That alone says much about the future.”
Arabella explained what had happened with Richard’s conviction, and what Robert had written to her.
“I need to know if I should go to Arles. Do I need to be there?”
For a moment the Signora studied her face. “Are you concerned about his other woman? Do you hope to turn him from her?”
“No, no, of course not. But I have a bad feeling. I fear it will not go as Robert has said and…”
“And?” the Signora prompted. “Do you think to storm the prison and free him?”
“Perhaps there is something I can do? I can’t bear the thought that he will be executed. It doesn’t seem possible. I need you to tell me he will be safe.”
The old woman was silent, studying Arabella’s face for a long time. Seeing something there that convinced her that her gift was needed, she went to the large cupboard and rummaged through it, finally returning with a long narrow box which she placed on the table between them. She took from it a thick candle and several colored stones, a piece of ancient opalescent glass rounded by the sea, a small piece of coral and a gold ring. These she placed in a circle around the candle, each apparently having a specific location in the ritual, for it was several minutes before they were arranged to her satisfaction.
Arabella watched patiently, wondering if she was doing the right thing. Would she find an answer here?
The Signora picked up the candle. “You’re sure this is what you want? Sometimes it’s better not to know what lies ahead.”
“I must know.”
The old woman sighed. “Very well. Then what is your question? Remember I can only read your future, not the man’s, though the two may well be connected.”
“See me five years from now. Where will I be and will anyone be with me?” Arabella hoped this would give her an answer. Somehow, she felt that if she was in the cottage, with her child and with or without Richard, all would be well. She knew that if he survived, one way or another they would see each other again, especially when he learned about the baby.
Picking up the ritual candle, the old woman lit it from the one on the table, which she then blew out. Signora Sabatino reached across to take both of Arabella’s hands in hers, the only light in the room the single flame between them within the circle of glittering objects.
The Signora closed her eyes saying, “Do not take your eyes from the flame until we are finished. If you look away it will sever the connection to the future. I will tell you what I see and you may ask questions, but do not look away from the flame.” Then she began to whisper to herself as her breathing slowed.
Arabella stared at the flame. She began to lose her sense of time as the hum of the woman’s words seemed to weave a web of mystery around the two of them. She felt as though she were slipping away from herself, from the room—and yet, before her eyes the flame continued to flicker.
“There is a room. A large room. A grand room. There are windows and sunlight. And music. There is music.”
Arabella felt almost as though she could faintly hear a harpsichord. “Where is the music coming from?” she asked, feeling her own words come from what seemed a great distance.
“A boy is playing…a little boy…but he plays well for his size. You are standing beside the instrument.”
“Who else is there?” Arabella whispered.
“There is a woman…not you…but like you. Young. And a girl, a little girl. They are dancing to the music.”
“Who else?”
“I see no one else. Everyone here is happy. But there is something…”
“What?”
“Something on the floor.”
“What is it?” Arabella felt a chill.
There was a pause. “It isn’t clear…a ribbon? No…a snake? But it does not move. Ah…” There was another pause. “It is a rope.”
With a jolt that made her feel as though her heart would spring from her chest, Arabella let go of the woman’s hands and pushed herself back from the table and to her feet. The child inside her jumped at the sudden movement.
The Signora opened her eyes and looked questioningly at Arabella.
“My dear, I’m sorry. As I said, sometimes it is better not to know these things.”
Arabella gave her a sad smile, and bent to kiss her wrinkled cheek. “I needed to know. Thank you.” She pressed the gold coin into the woman’s hand. It was generous recompense.
Pulling on her cloak, Arabella went out to find Tomas. She sent him to Gérrard's to find out when the next ship was sailing while she made her way back down the hill and up the ridge to the cottage.
Stefano came out of the shipping office, displeased by his lack of success at making new arrangements for transporting Guy’s silks. Since the trial, the Baron had discontinued their contracts and neither he nor Guy were having any luck finding another means of shipping their goods. The general ill will toward Guy since the trial was squeezing his business interests, and squeezing them hard. Apparently the good citizens of Arles had decided he was instrumental in Richard’s conviction. It was obvious to Stefano there was nothing to do but cross the river and see what might be arranged through Trinquetaille.
When he’d nearly reached the bridge to the neighboring town, a man rode up beside him suddenly. Stefano was startled. Surely he was not to be robbed in broad daylight and in the midst of so many people? Before he could say anything, the man handed him an envelope. It was addressed to him and in Christina’s hand. Without a word the man turned his horse back the way he’d come.
Stefano pulled his own horse out of the way of the traffic crossing the bridge and opened the seal.
Stefano,
If you are true to your words, please call on me tomorrow afternoon at four o’clock.
Christina
Perhaps he had convinced Madame Chabannier, afterall?
“Do you think he’ll come?” Robert asked Maryse the next day as they waited for Stefano.
“I’ll be very surprised if he doesn’t.”
Robert looked at Maryse. She had been helpful to him and to Christina in a thousand ways since Richard’s arrest.
“What is it, My Lord?”
“I just realized I haven’t thanked you for all you’ve done for us these last weeks.”
“Well, you’re welcome, I assure you. You know very well that I owe my family’s good fortune to your brother. There is nothing I wouldn't do to help.”
“Still, please know how much you mean to all of us.”
Before she could respond, there was a knock on the door. It was Denis.
“Monsieur Ferro is at the gate.”
“Be sure he’s searched,” said Robert. Just because he was unarmed last time, there was no reason to trust the man.
“I’ll go,” said Maryse. “It may soften the blow when he finds out it is you he’ll be seeing and not Christina.”
Stefano tried to control his irritation as he was once again roughly searched by the guard, but regained his composure as he mounted the stairs. The incident was forgotten by the time Maryse greeted him at the door of the salon.
“Monsieur Ferro. Please come in.”
“Madame.” He entered, hoping to find Christina on the other side of the door. He was disappointed to see it was the Abbot, instead, who was waiting.
“You remember the Baron’s brother?” Maryse said.
“Yes, of course. My Lord Abbot.” Stefano offered a formal bow.
“Thank you for coming, Monsieur. I’m sure you’re disappointed, but you must forgive me. I feel there is something we must discuss and I wasn’t sure that a note from me would be sufficient.”
“I admit that you’re not the person I was hoping to see, My Lord, but I am here and at your service.”
Robert gestured to one of the chairs. He nodded to Maryse and she left them alone in the room.
Stefano smiled.
“What is it, Monsieur?” Robert asked.
“No guard, this time, My Lord?”
“Is one necessary?”
Stefano sensed a chill behind the pleasant expression on Robert’s face and reassessed his response.
“Certainly not, My Lord. I am no threat to this house.”
“You’ll forgive us if we’re not yet sure that’s the case.” Robert said mildly.
“I long for the opportunity to convince you. I still hope to meet with Madame Jonvaux.” Stefano had intended to sound contrite, but knew his words might be interpreted as arrogant. “It’s very important to me that she know how I feel.”
“And that is?”
Stefano felt his cheeks color and knew he was not gaining any ground with Richard’s brother.
“My Lord, I feel awkward discussing this with you, but it would seem I have little choice. I love her. I wish to ask her forgiveness.”
“Well, that’s commendable. You certainly haven’t behaved very well where she’s concerned.”
Stefano was shocked. Had Christina aired those soiled sheets to the entire province? And to the Abbot, for heaven’s sake?
Robert was pleased to see Stefano knocked off his high horse. He smiled.
“So, you see how it is, Monsieur? Ours is a very close family and from the beginning it was always assumed Christina would be a part of it. Now, at last, she’s with us again. I only regret that she was forced away from our protection these last years. We have failed her and we regret it…deeply.”
“What must I do to convince you that I regret it, too?”
Robert looked at him for a long time.
“I’m not sure I know,” he said honestly. “Your resemblance to my brother is quite remarkable and I admit it is sometimes difficult to see beyond it.”
“Will you at least say that you’re willing to try, My Lord?”
“Yes,” Robert said. “I will.”
“So, you summoned me because…?”
“I’m curious about your background.” Robert was interested to see how Stefano would interpret this. Would he immediately see riches involved if they turned out to be related? Instead, what Robert saw was confusion.
“My background?”
“You look like you belong to our family, Monsieur. I was wondering if there’s any chance we might be related.”
Stefano couldn’t help himself. He laughed.
“Well, it’s certainly something I could wish for, My Lord, but I think it unlikely, don’t you?”
“Well, perhaps if you tell me something about your life I might be a better judge.”
“Very well. I was born in Venice in 1734. There were two boys before me and three more boys after. I also had a baby sister, but she died.”
“I’m sorry. But a large family. And what does your father do?”
“He was a businessman of some sort. He died before I was a year old.”
“I’m sorry. That must have been difficult for your mother?”
“Well, not at first. It seems my father had left us a small inheritance. We did well for those early years, the family seemed comfortable to me as a child—I even had a tutor for awhile—but then my mother took up with another man.” Stefano’s voice changed as he remember the hated stepfather who had ruined his family.
“She remarried then?” Robert sensed the change and pressed.
“No, they never married. But he had no use for my father’s children and he put us out on the street. For the most part we had to make do on our own. When he’d spent my mother’s money, he took her and his boys and went away. Little Gina he left with us. She was only two and she got sick. We couldn’t afford the doctor and the Sisters wouldn’t take her in at the convent. She died.”
“How old were you?”
“Nine. My two older brothers were eleven and fourteen. We had to live by our wits and I admit to you that our pursuits were not always honest.”
“Back to your father, if I may. Signore Ferro?”
“No. I was born Giovanni Stefano Scotti. I took the name Ferro when I was on the street. I wanted to be strong, you know, like iron—hence ‘Ferro.’ It was the dream of a helpless child, if you’ll forgive me, My Lord. I wanted to be strong enough to protect myself and my brothers.”
“Well, you’ve obviously managed very well for yourself. You certainly give the appearance of a gentleman.”
Stefano nodded in appreciation of what he considered a compliment.
“My older brothers are doing well working for Monsieur Jonvaux in Venice. I confess I’ve developed a taste for a different kind of life.”
“And your mother’s name?” At this point the answer was obvious to Robert.
“Delphine.”
“She was French, then?”
“No, Italian, but her mother was French and gave her three daughters French names. I never knew my two aunts or where they lived.”
When Robert said nothing, Stefano asked, “So, My Lord, tell me, do you think I’m your long lost brother?”
“Well, it would seem not. We have no relatives in Venice. No one in our family has married into the Scotti family. Please forgive me, I mean no offense, but do you feel that your mother was—again, forgive me—do you feel she was faithful to your father?”
Stefano was not offended. He doubted the Abbot's family was in the habit of taking up with a woman of his mother’s class and certainly, as far as he was concerned, there had been no man in his mother’s life until his stepfather appeared on the scene.
“I never saw my mother with another man, My Lord, until she met my stepfather.”
“Well, then, it seems your resemblance to my brother is a complete coincidence though I admit I still find it hard to fathom.”
Stefano smiled. “As you can imagine, I’m disappointed, but I never thought there was any chance. I’m a child of the Venetian canals, My Lord, not of the nobility of France.”
Arabella had taken rooms at a hôtel that was recommended to her by Captain Gervais. He’d sent his men to deliver her things and now she found herself wondering what she should do next. She felt awkward in her traveling clothes, those she’d worn when she accompanied Richard to Naples, and since altered to accommodate her pregnancy. Though they felt like a costume, she tried to tell herself they were a disguise. But then again, no one in Arles could recognize her no matter how she was dressed, for she knew no one.
She turned her thoughts to the next step.The captain had promised to send word to Robert that she’d arrived and she was beginning to wonder if she would be welcomed.
There was a knock at the door. When Arabella answered, it was Maryse and not Robert who stood in the hallway.
“Signora Cellarini?” Maryse’s Italian was flawless.
“Si, Signora.” Arabella couldn’t imagine who this woman might be, but it was obvious she was a lady. Arabella dipped into a slight curtsy.
“The Abbot asked me to call on you, may I come in?”
Maryse was impressed—and quite surprised to see that Arabella was pregnant—something Robert had failed to mention. Though Maryse knew Richard’s housekeeper had married, she also knew when. So, here is yet another woman who loved Richard!
“I am Madame Chabannier, an old friend of the family. The Abbot has asked that you come and stay with me. You’ll be more comfortable and as we’re not quite sure what is afoot regarding the Baron, Robert thinks you would also be safer.”
Arabella recognized a kindred spirit.
“Signora, if you’re certain it won’t inconvenience you?”
“Nonsense,” Maryse said as she took Arabella’s arm. “You know the Abbot would be unhappy with us if we failed to obey him.” Then she laughed. “So in this—since it’s to our advantage—let us bend to his will. I’m very anxious to get to know you.”
“My dear girl,” Robert said, embracing Arabella when he came to Maryse’s home later that afternoon. “What are you doing here?”
Arabella searched his eyes, trying to decide if he truly believed Richard would be freed.
“I’m sorry. I don’t want to cause any problems, but I needed to come. There must be something I can do?”
Robert smiled. “What you can do is bring a healthy addition to our family into this world.”
“That should happen quite soon. The baby and I are fine. But what of Richard?” she asked as they seated themselves on the sofa.
“He’s well. He was wounded when he was arrested, but it’s healing cleanly. And it’s as I told you in the letter, I’ve sent to both the King and the Holy Father. I expect to be hearing from both within the week and I have no reason to doubt the pardons will be forthcoming. You may not realize how prominent our family is, but we are known to be in favor at court and I do have some influence with the Vatican.”
“I find it hard to imagine things have come so far. If what you say is true, why was he arrested in the first place? I would have thought the privilege of rank would have prevented it.”
“You’re right, of course. Some other force is at work here. We feel it must be connected to Christina’s husband, but I have yet to discover the details. Someone is pulling the strings and the puppets are dancing.”
“Then are you sure he’ll be freed?”
“Whoever the puppetmaster may be, he is still ruled by the King. This scheme is bound to fall apart when the pardons arrive.” Robert took her hands in his. “So tell me, why are you here?”
What a kind man he is, she thought. But Arabella could see he was tired. And she could see how deep his concern was. He was not as sure of success as he pretended. She didn’t think she dared tell him what Signora Sabatino had seen.
“I can only tell you that I have a strong feeling things won’t go well,” was all she could say.
“And if they don’t? What help can you be?”
Arabella found this irritating. “I don’t know! That’s why I’ve come. There must be something…”
“I worry for you and the child, Arabella.”
“Does Richard know?”
Robert sighed. “No, I haven’t said anything. I assumed it would be obvious when he and Christina reached Corsica. But as I said in the letter, I think now they may be returning to Beauvu. I do intend to tell him when this is over.” Robert was thinking of the annulment. He would have to let Richard know about Arabella and the baby before he married him to Christina. It would be Richard’s choice, of course. Good Lord, why has she come?
“Are you concerned that he doesn’t know?”
“No, of course not. I have no wish to change his plans to be with Christina. You’ve assured me the child will be provided for. It’s not that. Now that I’m here, I’d like to see him, of course, but since he doesn’t know…”
Robert saw the sadness in her eyes. She doesn’t believe Richard will survive. But why? He changed the subject.
“And forgive me, I’m sorry for your loss. Alfredo was a good man. You were very thoughtful to have married him.”
“At least I was able to make his last days comfortable. I’m so grateful he didn’t linger. I would have hated to see him suffer.”
“I’m sure it was a great comfort to him to have his wife by his side.” Robert stood up. He had many things to do. “Are you comfortable here with Maryse?”
“Yes, of course. She’s been so kind. It was thoughtful of you to find a place for me.”
“Take care of yourself and Maryse, and I’ll keep you both informed. It may be that you can see Richard, but at this point I can’t make any promises. They’ve been very reluctant to let anyone in. We just have to see how events play out.” He smiled reassuringly at Arabella. “And he will know, of course. It’s just that we must concentrate on seeing him pardoned.”
While Robert was with Arabella, Maryse was with Christina. It was obvious to her that Christina and Arabella would meet, one way or another. Surely Richard knew that to be the case when he and Christina were headed for Corsica. But Robert was deceiving himself if he thought that somehow the two women could be kept apart as long as Richard’s life hung in the balance. And two heirs were about to come into the world! Did Robert think to hide Arabella’s child away on the island forever? Maryse was annoyed Robert hadn’t told Richard about Arabella’s baby. Richard would want to know. Of that she was sure!
“Christina, forgive me, but have you thought about what Richard was doing all those years you were separated?” Maryse pulled the brush through Christina’s hair. It seemed to relax her. But it also brought Maryse memories of her own time with Richard.
“We talked about it quite a bit. He was running the shipping from Corsica and mostly at sea himself. The family has a cottage there, in Bonifacio, one his father built years ago. We all used to visit there together when we were children.”
“It must have been hard for him.”
Christina closed her eyes. She was thinking of her time with Richard at the abbey when he’d told her those things. Sometimes she thought they never should have left that room. But then she smiled when she remembered Richard teasing her about raising the baby there.
In the mirror Maryse watched those emotions play across Christina’s reflection. She saw no signs of sorrow.
“He was working hard. I think it helped him forget. And there was a woman…”
“A woman?” Maryse was surprised. Had Richard told Christina about Arabella, then?
“His housekeeper at the cottage. She was very good to him. In fact she’s the one who saved his life when he was wounded. He almost died.”
This is interesting, thought Maryse. Christina apparently knew far more than Robert thought she did.
“I’m sorry, Christina, truly. I didn’t mean to bring up anything that would hurt you.”
“No, it’s all right. You have no idea how happy I am that he had someone to love him when I couldn’t.”
Maryse leaned down to put her arms around Christina, giving her a hug.
Christina smiled. “And you loved him, too, when I couldn’t, didn’t you?”
“My Lord?” Denis was at the door to the library at the townhouse where Robert was working amongst a stack of papers. “Dom Siguero is here.”
Robert was surprised. The man had made good time, indeed. He rose to greet him. “What news, my son?”
“My Lord.” Adolfo dropped to one knee before his Abbot and handed him a leather packet.
“Bless you, my son. You made a remarkably swift trip. I trust it was uneventful?”
“No, My Lord. Not ‘uneventful.’”
Robert looked at him questioningly, but the man was obviously disinclined to elaborate.
“You were able to see the Cardinal?”
“I was. As you said, when he was told that I came from you, he saw me immediately.”
“Sit, sit. Let me see what he has to say.”
Robert broke the Cardinal’s red seal and opened the packet. There was a letter and another more formal document, also sealed. Robert looked in the packet again. He’d expected three documents.
Saluti, mi amico vecchio!
Quite an impressive messenger you have sent, my friend.
It has been far too long! But this is no time to exchange pleasantries. Find here the annulment you requested. The Signora is fortunate to find herself under your protection. I wish her all happiness on being welcomed into your family. My blessings on the couple.
And I assure you that your brother will be safe. The pardon will follow in less than a week.These things, I’m afraid, take a little more time, but I understand that there is danger in delay. I promise you my swiftest courier.
Trust, my dear friend. My prayers are with you and your family.
May we meet soon under happier circumstances.
Tambourini
Robert was relieved, but another week! Any delay at at this point was a worry. And where was Grégoire? He and the Marquis should have returned from Paris a week ago.