A Chance Encounter (St. John Series Book 10) Page 4

  “Hello!” the dress shop owner said, coming from behind the counter. “How may I assist you today?”

  “Hello,” Madelena returned. “I need a dress for Carnival.”

  The owner looked Madelena up and down with scorn. “I see.”

  “Nothing too fancy. Something simple. I know I do not have time to have one made. If you have something already made, that would be fine. With a matching mask.”

  “I am sorry.” The owner’s eyes traveled over Madelena again. “We do not carry anything that would suit you.”

  Madelena’s spine stiffened. “What is that supposed to mean?”

  “It means costermongers need to look elsewhere for clothing. The trash perhaps.”

  “I will have you know I am no costermonger!”

  “Really? You dress as one. Why else would you be wearing such rags?”

  Madelena thrust her hand inside the pocket of her brown dress, removing the large sum of money. Shaking the money in front of the owner’s face, she growled, “I have more than enough money. But apparently, you are too good for my money.”

  The dress shop owner’s eyes landed on the large number of notes in Madelena’s hand. “I am certain I can arrange for something.”

  “No,” Madelena snapped, putting the money back inside her pocket. “You think you are better than I am? You think you are too good for my money? There are other shop owners who will accept my money without me having to beg them to do so.”

  “Please wait!”

  “No! You have insulted me. I will not give you the satisfaction of taking my money.” Madelena exited the shop and slammed the door as the hurt welled up inside her. This shop had the mask she wanted. Now, what was she to do?

  Madelena tried two more shops without success. All the seamstresses were busy with prior orders, and none had premade dresses to buy. With a heavy heart, she headed home. After hiding her baskets in the barn, she entered the house from the back. When she closed the door, she cringed. She had forgotten to buy vegetables for tonight's meal. Closing her eyes, she pressed her back against the door.

  “Damn,” Madelena mumbled.

  “Language, daughter,” Antonio said.

  Madelena’s eyes flew open. Her father was standing in the doorway to the kitchen. The sleeves of his white tunic were rolled up to his elbows, exposing his muscular forearms. The buttons on his gray vest were undone, and his right hand rested upon his abdomen.

  “Sorry, Papa.”

  Antonio studied his daughter. “Why the long face, Madelena?”

  Madelena shook her head. “Nothing.”

  “Madelena?”

  She sighed. “I forgot to buy vegetables for Mama.”

  Antonio waved away the worry. “Don’t worry about your mother. I will send Fernando.”

  “You can’t. It is the day off for the kitchen staff. Remember? Mama says I must cook when they are off.”

  A deep sigh left him. “I will send a runner to gather the vegetables.”

  “Thank you, Papa.”

  Antonio approached his daughter and placed a finger under her chin, raising her eyes to his. “What else is troubling you?”

  Madelena forced a smile. “Nothing.”

  “Madelena?”

  She could not lie to her father. No matter how hard she tried or how much she desired to, she never could.

  “I want to go to Carnival, but I cannot find a dress.”

  “Carnival? But those dresses—”

  “I know. They are quite expensive. But I have money.” At Antonio’s suspicious look, she knew she had to come up with some reason as to how she earned enough money to purchase a dress. He did give her and her sisters a small monthly allowance…not enough to purchase a dress for Carnival. She hated to lie, but it was an innocent lie and would keep his suspicions away from her secret hobby. She could not tell her father that she was peddling baskets at the docks. He would be furious if he knew. “And before you ask, I’ve been saving my allowance for some time to purchase a dress and a mask. For over a year. But no dress shop could help me.”

  “None?”

  Madelena shook her head. “No. Well, there was one, but the shop owner was rather nasty towards me. She accused me of being a costermonger. Of being a beggar.”

  Antonio’s brows came together. In a threatening voice, he asked. “Who?”

  Madelena shook her head. “Don’t trouble yourself.”

  “Who?”

  “Madame Blanche.”

  Antonio’s look became dark. “I see.”

  “Do not do anything rash, Papa. Look at how I am dressed.” Madelena looked down at her tan dress. “I can see her reasoning.” Madelena wanted to see Blanche punished but not too harshly.

  Antonio took in his daughter’s attire. “Why are you dressed as such? You have nicer gowns.”

  “Mama told me to go to the market.”

  “I will have a word with your mother. I will not have you dressed worse than the paupers. You are the daughter of Antonio Russo, and you will dress as such.”

  Madelena hid her delight. She liked pitting her parents against each other. Even though it did not happen often, they would argue and rarely did Antonio win. But every so often, he would, and Madelena had no doubt that this would be one of the times he did.

  “Hello!” Sandra could be heard yelling from the front of the house.

  Madelena looked at her father, her eyes wide with horror. “The vegetables.”

  Antonio kissed Madelena upon her forehead. “I do not want vegetables tonight. In fact, go change. I think we will dine out tonight.”

  Madelena threw her arms around her father’s neck. “Thank you, Papa!”

  Antonio chuckled, returning his daughter’s embrace. “I will tell your mother that I spotted you at the market and directed you not to buy vegetables. Now go change.”

  “Yes, Papa.” Madelena released her father and approached the back steps.

  “And tomorrow morning come by my office. We will find you a dress for Carnival.”

  Surprise caused Madelena’s brows to rise as she pivoted around to face her father. Antonio never allowed his family to come to his office. “Your office?”

  Antonio nodded. “Just this time.”

  Madelena smiled and a squeal left her. Sandra appeared in the doorway. Madelena did not speak. She hiked up the front of her dress and raced up the steps.

  “Where is she going?” Sandra snapped.

  “To change.”

  “Change? Why? And why has she not started our evening meal?”

  Antonio pushed his way past his wife. “I do not want stew. I have decided to take us out to dinner tonight. Have my other daughters freshen up. We will leave within the hour.”

  “But I have something I need to discuss with you,” Sandra said, chasing after her husband.

  “Girls!” Antonio shouted, approaching his study.

  “Yes, Papa?” Angela said, sticking her head out from the sitting room.

  “Tell your sisters to ready themselves. I am taking us out to dinner.”

  “Really?” Angela could not hide her delight.

  “Yes.”

  Angela squealed with joy as she raced up the stairs.

  “Antonio!” Sandra said, following her husband into his study.

  “What?”

  “I have something I need to discuss with you.”

  Antonio rounded his desk and opened a drawer, pulling out a leather pouch. Counting the notes inside he spoke. “Can’t this wait, Sandra? I am about to have dinner with five of my favorite people.”

  “Five?” A glint of evil hit her brown eyes. “Who are you leaving at home? Madelena, I hope.” She knew he would never leave her home.

  “You,” Antonio said, closing the drawer. Buttoning his vest, he then rolled down his sleeve and removed his coat from the back of his chair.

  “Me?” The shock caused Sandra’s voice to come out shrill.

  “If you insist on insulting my favorite daughter,
then, yes, you can remain here and eat cold oats.”

  Sandra glowered at her husband. “And we both know why she is your favorite, don’t we.”

  “We do.” Antonio buttoned the front of his black jacket.

  “I can rectify that.”

  The darkness that came over Antonio frightened Sandra. “To the world, she is our daughter, Sandra. Never forget that.”

  “I can ruin you both.”

  “And I can ruin you. Do not threaten my daughters. They are the only good thing that has come out of our marriage.”

  “The only good thing?!”

  “Come now. You know the only reason we married was because you were with child.”

  “Your child!”

  “So you claimed,” he replied with indifference.

  Sandra’s face contorted with anger. “Yet you were a coward and ran away. Your father dragged you back from Spain, kicking and screaming, and forced you to take responsibility for what you did to me.”

  A bitter laugh came from Antonio. “What I did to you? What I did to you?”

  “Yes. You planted your seed inside me.”

  “Are you certain? You were no virgin, Sandra. There were many men before me that sampled your goods.”

  “How dare you?” she hissed. “You insult me when you know I only speak the truth.”

  “The truth? The truth is you had no idea who sired the babe you lost…only days after we wed. I just happened to be the man with the most appealing name at that time. My father forced me to marry you. ‘Honor above all’ was what he lived by. Honor.” Antonio spat. “It was that reason alone I married you. I would not taint his reputation over your claims that I was your child’s father.”

  “Yet you kept that woman.” Sandra could not help herself. She hated that woman. Francesca Demachi was her name. Francesca was stunning…for a quadroon. She was tall and sleek with ebony hair, dark eyes, and a beautiful bronze complexion. Antonio frequently stayed at the townhome he purchased for his mistress. That is until his whore died in childbirth.

  “I never want to hear her name cross your lips,” Antonio growled, his voice deep with a warning.

  “I’m ready!” Angela sang as she descended the stairs.

  “We will continue this discussion later,” Antonio fiercely whispered to his wife. “I want to spend time with my daughters before you marry them off to some miserable old bastard who will not treat them as they should.”

  “I will gather my wrap,” Sandra bit out.

  “No.”

  “No?”

  “That’s right. You will not be accompanying us.”

  “Antonio!”

  “You have insulted Madelena and the only woman that I have ever loved.”

  “But, Antonio,” Sandra whined.

  Antonio ground his back teeth together. Sandra had a way of grating on his last nerve. If it weren’t for his girls, he would have left Sandra years ago.

  “What’s wrong?” Angela asked as she noticed her mother’s wounded expression.

  “Your father said I am not allowed to come with you,” Sandra spoke.

  “What?” Angela complained. “Why, Papa? Why can’t Mama come with us?”

  Antonio looked at his oldest daughter. He wanted to tell her that he hated the ground her mother walked on. Yet he knew how much his daughters loved their mother.

  “She is only jesting, Angela.” Antonio approached his daughter and placed a kiss upon the top of her head. “You know how she loves for you to make a fuss over her.”

  Angela smiled. “Oh, Papa. You are such a tease.”

  Antonio smirked. “Are my other girls ready?”

  Angela nodded. “Yes. Flora and Maria were getting their wraps. And Bella was just putting on her shoes.”

  “What of Madelena?”

  “I’m right here,” Madelena spoke from the hallway leading to the kitchen.

  Antonio took in Madelena, and the breath caught in his throat. She was stunning and looked so much like her mother. Her long, wavy locks were pulled up on the sides, but the back remained down. The pink gown she wore had a square bodice with a slightly flowing skirt. Her waist was cinched with a cream ribbon. Her dark eyes shimmered as she smiled, causing her cheeks to plump.

  As she approached, she took her wrap from the peg on the wall.

  “You look lovely, Madelena,” Antonio whispered.

  Her smile widened. “Thank you, Papa. You look rather dashing yourself.”

  Antonio chuckled. “Dashing, am I? Well, I don’t know about that. All I know is that I will be the envy of every man in Rome for I will have the most beautiful women in the entire world by my side. Flora! Bella! Come along, girls! It’s time to go, and if you are not in the carriage by the time I am, I will leave you here!”

  The thumping of feet coming down the stairs caused Antonio’s laughter to increase. “Come along, my lovely girls. The night is young, and I am famished.”

  The evening meal went without any family drama…for a change. The Russo girls were civil to each other. Even Sandra was civil to Madelena. After the dinner, they stopped by the park for a viewing of a small play and then returned home. As the Russo girls made their way to their respective rooms to retire for the night, Antonio headed into his study with his wife upon his heels.

  “What now, Sandra?”

  “I still have something I need to discuss with you,” Sandra said, her voice cold and caustic.

  “What? It is growing late, and I have an early day tomorrow.”

  “Our girls need husbands.”

  A frustrated sigh left Antonio. “Are we doing this again?”

  “Yes.”

  “Sandra?”

  “Don’t, Antonio. Every suitor I arrange for Angela loses interest in her the second they see Madelena.”

  Antonio approached his desk and took the lid off the decanter of brandy. He splashed an ample amount of the liquor into a crystal goblet and replaced the top. After sitting in his chair, he took a sip of the brandy and replied, “They are young and have only interests in carnal satisfaction. Maybe if you selected from the proper circles, you could find one who is wanting to settle down. One without a wandering eye. Besides, Madelena has no interest in any of the suitors that have come to call on her sisters.”

  “That is not the point, Antonio. These suitors are from good families and are more than eager to meet Angela or Flora. But the instant Madelena appears, their interests change. It’s like she casts a spell over them. She is purposely capturing their attention. She is purposely sabotaging any hope of marriage for my daughters out of spite. Just because she does not want to marry does not mean that her sisters do not.”

  Antonio snorted. “I seriously doubt Madelena is purposely sabotaging any marriage. She is a kindred spirit. These young men can sense that. They are drawn to her free spirit. Yet they all know the outcome should they cross the line with her.”

  “Why are you worried about her virtue?” Sandra’s words were snide.

  “She is my daughter. I worry about all of their virtues. Madelena simply has not found a young man who captures her attention. She is a kindred soul. Love will eventually find her, and you will not have to worry about her interfering in your scheming ways of trying to locate a husband for our other daughters.”

  “I am glad you think so,” Sandra replied with a haughtiness that caused the hairs on Antonio’s neck to prickle.

  “What have you done?” Antonio asked, placing his glass upon the desk with such force that the brandy in his cup sloshed over the sides.

  “You said it yourself. Madelena is a kindred spirit. A spirit that will never be tamed. So I have made arrangements for her to marry.”

  “You did what?”

  “I made arrangements for her to marry.”

  “Without my permission,” Antonio growled.

  Sandra stiffened her spine and readied for the battle. “Yes. It is high time she marries. She is twenty-one. Many men see her as long in the tooth. I have arranged a u
nion for her to Miles Drakos.”

  “Miles Drakos! That old fat bastard from Greece who claims he’s royalty!”

  “Yes. And it is not a claim. His family are descendants of Alexander the Great.”

  “She will not marry that man. He is far too old for her.”

  “He needs a bride. It is a good match. He will provide well for her.”

  “For her? Or for you? Is this a way to get rid of Madelena?”

  Sandra hid her delight. Of course, it was a way to get rid of her. A way to send Madelena away from here and a way for her daughters to finally have a chance at catching a suitable husband.

  “Of course not, Antonio. But we both know that Madelena will never marry. She loves you too dearly to ever want to leave you. And why would she? You give her the run of the city. If you showed your other daughters the same kind of favoritism as you did Madelena, then this city would be ruined.”

  Antonio’s fingers gripped the desk. “She will not marry that man.”

  “It has been arranged.”

  “I will unarrange it.”

  “No, you will not! I have lived with that woman’s ghost in my house for the past twenty-one years, and I will not do it any longer. I have lived looking at Francesca’s image every day for twenty-one years. I have lived with that thing in my house for twenty-one years. Madelena will marry Drakos. And if you deny me this wish, then I will tell everyone in this city that she is the bastard daughter of your black whore.”

  Antonio’s eyes lowered dangerously. “I will advise you not to threaten me, Sandra.”

  “I can and I will. My sister has the proof at her home. And if something should happen to me, then this entire city will know that Madelena is your bastard and not my child. This city will know that you forced me to raise her as my own. This city will know that you forced me to suckle her at my breast along with my own child who was born the very same day—only hours apart. This city will know that instead of being at my bedside while your legitimate child was being born that you were at the bedside of your whore. This city will know the truth. That the great and honorable Antonio Russo is a fraud and a fornicator. That he is as faithless to his wife as those that he had sentenced on the Pope’s behalf.”

  Knots formed in the deepest pit of Antonio’s stomach as heat climbed from his neck to his face. How had it come to this? The woman who he hated more than anything had his balls in her hand.