The Contessa's Vendetta (12 page)

I thought of
Chiara, my darling child. Her memory fell upon me like a ray of light. In all the tumult I had suffered, I had nearly forgotten her. Poor little flower. Hot tears stung my eyes as I conjured the vision of her soft round face, her trusting eyes, her pink lips puckering to give me an innocent kiss. What about her? Once I fulfilled my vendetta, I must take her with me far, far away into some quiet corner of the world, and devote my life to her. One day she, too, would become a beautiful woman, and I would teach her to be much wiser than I had been when it came to matters of the heart.

Poor Chiara.
She was a flower born of a poisoned tree. Oh, we women have serpents coiled around our lives in the form of handsome, but false men. If God has given us children by them, the curse descends upon us threefold. There is nothing more torturous than to see innocent babes look trustingly into the devious eyes of an adulterous husband, and call him
Papa
.

For the rest of the day I
remained very much alone except to share my meals in the cabin with Santina and Paolo. The captain spoke pleasantly to me whenever our paths crossed, but nimble opposing winds made it necessary for him to attend to the management of his vessel instead of yielding to the love of chatter inherent in him.

The weather was
wonderful, and despite the shifting and tacking about to seize the unpredictable breeze, the brig sailed rapidly over the shimmering Adriatic, at a rate that promised our arrival at Pescara by sunset of the following day.

As evening
arrived, the wind blew a bit stronger, and by the time the moon soared high into the sky, we were scudding along at a tilt, the edge of our vessel leaning over to kiss the waves that gleamed like silver and gold, flecked here and there with flames from a brilliant sunset.

We skimmed
near the bows of a magnificent ship. An English flag fluttered from her mast. Her sails glittered white in the moonbeams. A man, with a tall athletic figure stood on deck, his arm around the waist of a young woman beside him. It took only a minute or two to pass the vessel, yet I saw this loving duo with clarity. I pitied her. Men’s unfaithfulness tears apart the hearts of women. 

Later that night,
I returned on deck and stared up at the countless stars that sparkled in the restful indigo sky; my gaze lingering till it seemed that our ship had also become a star, and was sailing through space with its iridescent companions.

The world was filled with
men and women who lived and loved and lied to one another. Vague ideas and strange opinions fluttered in my thoughts. I relived the anguish of my burial in the crypt. I forced myself to recall the scene I had witnessed between Dario and Beatrice. I meditated on every small detail. And my desire for vengeance grew ever more powerful.

There was no
remedy for a woman betrayed and whose pride was sullied by a cheating man. No law existed to punish him. So therefore I must seek justice on my own. I must be counsel, jury, and judge, all in one and render justice so there could be no appeal. But I took it a little further. I would also be the executioner for the unique penalty I had devised.

So
, I mused with my face upturned to the sky, watching the light of the moon shining down on the sea like a shower of silver, while the waves slapped gently against the sides of the ship. Lost in such thoughts, a long time passed before I turned away and retired to my quarters where Santina waited to attend me.

The brig sailed into Pescara’s harbour an hour before sunset. It had scarcely reached dock when a band of guards, heavily laden with matchlock muskets and swords, boarded the vessel. Their sergeant produced a document authorizing them to search the brig for Cesare Negri.

In his usual gregarious manner, the ship
’s captain smiled and welcomed the military emissaries as though they were his dearest friends. While his aides distributed cups to the unexpected visitors, he uncorked a flask of wine. “In my opinion, Cesare Negri is somewhere in Vicenza.”

The sergeant cocked his head and stared at him doubtfully.

“I speak the truth.” The captain filled the man’s cup. “There is a reward for Negri’s capture, is there not? And I am not a wealthy man. Therefore I will do everything I can to assist you.”

The sergeant
’s gaze narrowed. “We received information that Negri escaped from Vicenza. His escape was assisted by a man named Ernesto Paccanini, owner of the coasting brig
Laura Bella
who ships goods between Venice and Pescara. You are Ernesto Paccanini and this is the brig
Laura Bella
.” 

“
Ah, I see you are a very astute man!” With exuberance, the captain slapped the sergeant on the back causing the wine to spill from the cup he held uncomfortably in his hand. “You are correct about my name and that of my brig, but you are wrong about Negri.” He wagged his finger back and forth in denial then broke out into a laugh. “But I do not wish to quarrel with you. Have some more wine. Hunting for thiefs is thirsty work. Let me refill your cups, my dear friends. I have plenty more below deck!”

The officers drank the proffered wine. The youngest-looking of the group, a brisk, handsome fellow raised his cup.
“Bravo Ernesto! Let us all be friends together. Besides, what harm is there in accepting a thief and murderer as a passenger? No doubt he paid you better than most.”

It was evident to me that the man
’s deliberate levity was a means to trap the captain into an accidental confession.

But the captain was smarter than he looked and would not be caught. Instead, he raised his hands and
eyes with feigned alarm. “May the saints forgive you for thinking that I, a simple seaman, would accept one
scudo
from such a bandit. I would be cursed for the rest of my life. You are mistaken, sergeant. I know nothing of Cesare Negri, and I have never encountered the lout!”

He spoke with such sincerity that the officers appeared perplexed, yet it did not deter them from thoroughly
searching the brig. They questioned everyone on board, including myself, but did not learn any further information. Though they glanced curiously at my white hair, they seemed to think there was nothing suspicious about me, a woman and her servants travelling alone for a brief vacation.

After more of the captain
’s pleasant cordialities, the guards departed with puzzled expressions over the incorrect information they had received that Negri may have been on board.

As soon as they were out of sight, Ernesto cavorted about the deck like a child in a garden, and snapped his fingers defiantly.
“Those idiots. How dare they think to force me, Ernesto Paccanini, to betray a man who has given me good cigars! Let them hunt in every town and city! Cesare may rest comfortably without the gendarmerie to disturb him!”

I advanced to bid the captain farewell.

“Ah,
dama
, I am truly sorry to part company with you! I hope you will forgive me for not betraying poor Signor Negri who trusts me.”

“
I wish there were more men in the world like you.
Arrivederci
.” I handed him the fare for our passage. “Please accept my sincere thanks. I shall not forget your kindness. If you ever need a friend, send to me.”

He gave me a curious look.
“But how can I do that if the
dama
does not tell me her name?”

I had pondered this during the night. I knew I must assume a new name, and I had decided to adopt that of an old school-friend, a girl to whom I had been profoundly attached in my earliest youth, and who had drowned before my
eyes while bathing in the Venetian Lido. So I answered Ernesto’s question at once and without effort. “Ask for Contessa Giulia Corona. I shall return to Vicenza shortly. Seek me there and you will find me.”

The captain doffed his cap and bowed. He straightened with a grin.
“I was correct that the
dama’s
hands were those of a woman of noble rank. I know a lady when I see one.
Arrivederci, dama
! Command me when you will. I shall be happy to serve you again.”

I gave him my warmest smile and Santina
, Paolo, and I stepped from the brig onto the dock.

“
Mille grazie
!” I called out to him.

And thus I left him, standing bareheaded on the deck of his small vessel, waving good-heartedly as I walked away. His ideas of right and wrong were odd,
and he lied better than many people who told the truth. I could not dislike him.

We went immediately in search of a place to stay. I engaged three rooms for several weeks at the finest inn I could find.

My second need was to purchase clothes. I found a quaint dressmaker
’s shop where I ordered numerous gowns to be made in the finest materials - brocatella, gold cloth, silks, damasks, brocades, and velvets. Santina was also to receive several gowns, not as fine as mine, of course, but appropriate enough for a lady’s personal maid. By the look of delight on her face, I knew her new gowns of linen and lace pleased her. I did not forget Paolo either, who received new shirts, doublets, and jerkins.
  

I gave the dressmaker my new name and the address of the inn. She served me with flattering humbleness and allowed me the use of her private back-room, where I discarded the drowned woman
’s gown for a ready-made gown constructed in an elaborate brocade, its bodice embellished with embroidered roses and foliage with colorful beading. The main skirt was in a deep cream silk, opening at the front to show a brocade panel, enhanced with pearls.

Thus arrayed, we returned to the inn where I would spend the coming weeks preparing for the act of retribution that lay before me.

I needed to find a safe place for the coins and gems I kept hidden on my person. I sought out the leading banker in Pescara. After introducing myself with my fake name, I explained how I had recently returned to Pescara after several years’ absence. He received me with utmost cordiality. Despite his astonishment at the vast wealth I presented to him, including the bag of jewels, most of which, because of their remarkable size and lustre, seemed to daze and impress him, he accepted it all and arranged for its safe keeping,

As payment, I gave him a fine sapphire and two rose
-cut diamonds, all unset. “Please have a ring made for yourself,” I said as I placed the gems into his sweaty palm.

His eye widened with surprise.
“But I cannot possibly accept such a gift.”

“
But I insist,” I said in my most commanding voice. “It is the least I can do to compensate you for protecting my riches.”

He did not argue any further. His covetous
desire to possess the exceptional stones prevailed. He swiftly tucked them into his waist pouch then inundated me with his gratitude. 

I could not help but smile. My bribe had worked. Not only had I secured his services, but he either forgot or saw no need to ask me for personal references, which would have been impossible for me to provide.

With this matter attended to, I turned my attention to my next dilemma – how to disguise myself so that no one would ever recognize me, either by appearance or gesture, as the late Carlotta Mancini. Already, my face had filled out and I looked young again. The spark of life and freedom glimmered in my eyes once more and I knew it would give me away to anyone who once knew me. What should I do about my tell-tale eyes?

An idea immediately came to mind. I decided to feign weak eye-sight made worse by the sun
’s brilliance. A pair of spectacles would cover my eyes and cover much of my face. From a small shop specializing in Venetian glass, I purchased a hand-held mirror and a pair of dark-tinted spectacles. Ribbons attached to the silver frames kept them looped over my ears so I would not need to hold them in place with my hands. When I returned to my room at the inn, I examined myself in the mirror. The eye glasses disguised my most distinguishable features perfectly. Together with my white hair, I looked like a woman in her mid fifties with an eye impediment. 

The next thing to do was to change the brisk, but clear diction of my voice and eliminate the expressive hand gestures those from the Veneto area are prone to. I trained myself to speak in a different voice, hardening my accent and speaking with forethought and detachment. I injected sarcasm and curtness while taking care to keep my hands and head still.