By two days after the birth, Pietra proclaimed me perfectly healthy. She also assured me—and my aunt, who would report to my father—that I should have no trouble bearing children in the future.
Tossing and turning, I tried to get some sleep. Despite my exhaustion, I wondered if I would ever be able to sleep again not knowing where my daughter was, or if she was safe.
I must have drifted off at some point, however, for the next thing I was aware of was being gently shaken awake. “Adriana,” a voice whispered in my ear.
“Who is there?” I mumbled, rolling over toward the voice, still half asleep. I opened my eyes to see Giuseppe’s face, dimly illuminated by the light of a single candle. “Giuseppe!” I gasped, pulling myself into a sitting position. “How did you get here? How did you get in?”
“Shhh,” he hissed, sitting on the edge of the bed. “I got on a coach that was headed here, of course. And as to how I got in…” He smiled mischievously. “You underestimate my effect on the fairer sex, Adriana. I spoke for a time with a young maid, who was kind enough to let me in once I explained.”
“Does Father know you left?” I asked, fully awake now. I pushed my heavy hair off my face, anxiously searching his eyes. His silence, however, told me all that I needed to know. “Dio mio,” I breathed. “He has not thrown you out?”
He nodded. “Told me I was no longer welcome in his house because of my betrayal. He gave me a small fortune before I left, though.” He chuckled darkly. “My inheritance.”
“Oh, Giuseppe. Whatever will you do?”
He shrugged. “Do not worry about me, Adriana. What of you? How are you faring here?”
I looked away. “I gave birth two days ago.”
His eyes widened. “Are you well? And what of the child?”
My eyes filled with tears. “I am not well, not at all. It was a girl, and they took her from me at once. Her name is Anna.”
“Oh, Adriana.” He enfolded me in a tight embrace. “I am so sorry.”
“There was nothing I could do, Giuseppe,” I said, sobbing. “Yet sometimes I think that if I really loved her, I would not have let them take her. That I should have died first.”
“Do not blame yourself,” he said. “You were caught in a web of plans laid by powerful men. There was nothing you could have done.”
“Perhaps,” I said. I knew he was right, yet I also knew that a mother’s guilt would never cease to hound me.
“And when do you come back to Venice?”
I wiped away my tears. “No one has said. As soon as I am recovered enough to travel safely, I suppose. But what of you?”
“It was suggested that it would not go well for me if Enrico were to find me hanging about you, causing trouble,” he said, smiling. “So I have a mind to see more of the world, outside of Italy. With Enrico’s money, of course.”
“I wish that I could keep you with me always,” I said, crestfallen. “But perhaps you are right, and this will be best for now.”
He squeezed my hand. “I will return to Venice soon enough,” he said. “In plenty of time for your wedding.”
I chuckled. “Father will be thrilled.”
“He cannot stop me. What will he do, throw me out of the church?”
I laughed at the image: my aging father, formidable though he might be, attempting to bodily expel the young, robust Giuseppe from my wedding ceremony. “It is to be in April, I believe,” I said. “After Lent.”
“I will be there,” he said. “No doubt I will be homesick before long, in any case.”
I smiled. “Come home with a lovely French wife, Giuseppe. They are said to be the most beautiful women in the world.”
He leaned forward and kissed the top of my head. “No, cara sorella,” he said. “Le donne italiane sono.”
As he rose to leave, I clutched at his sleeve. “Wait,” I said. “Where do you go from here?”
He paused. “Back to Venice, I suppose, to find passage from there.”
I hesitated only a moment. “There is one thing I need you to do for me,” I said. “I have no right to ask, not when you have already done so much for me, but…”
“Anything,” he said, sitting back on the edge of the bed. “Just tell me what it is, Adriana.”
“Will you go to him?” I asked. “Tell him he has a daughter, and her name is Anna.”
“Oh, Adriana.” Giuseppe sighed, running his fingers through his dark hair. “What good can it do now?”
“Would you not want to know, if you were in his position?” I asked.
He was silent. “Very well,” he said. “I will go. Yes, of course I will go.” He rose to leave. “I promise I will find him before I do anything else.”
“I will repay you someday, Giuseppe,” I vowed. “For everything. I know not how, but I will, I swear it.”
He shook his head. “You need do no such thing.” Before I could protest, he moved toward the door. “Addio, Adriana. I will see you at your wedding.”
Tears stung my eyes again. “Addio, mio caro fratello.”
And then he was gone, and I was alone in the darkness of the cold room.