Oh mercy. I brought a hand to my cheek. What had we been saying?
“And what about Chiara?” Jerking his head back to the task, he tapped the pen against the papers in front of him. Almost like a drummer. A hot drummer.
“She is very pretty. I mean, if pretty is what you want.”
So here we were again, discussing physical attributes. Was this the way it was going to go with him? Probably so. “I suppose you want your children to be attractive.”
“My children?” The pen fell. He almost levitated from the chair.
Had I been wrong? Certainly he’d considered this.
“Of course. Your children with any of the women we talked to last night would be beautiful…or very handsome. Those women were all gorgeous. But there has to be more to a marriage than looks.”
Thinking back to Wallace, I couldn’t control a backward glance at the marriage that had nearly destroyed me. I had been so taken by him. Tall and attractive, he was well spoken. His students loved him. Had he ever had an affair? Sometimes I wondered. But by that time the marriage was ending.
I tried to organize my thoughts. Back to Chiara.Think of this as one of your final exams, Christina. A test on character development. Unlike the targeted Gabriella, who had very definite opinions, Chiara had seemed somewhat shy. Ama would eat her for lunch.I had to bring that up. “Chiara is somewhat shy, isn't she?” I posed the question, glancing over at Marco and feeling my way.
Feeling my way with Marco.Nope, don’t go there.
“Yes. You have a good point. She considers what she says before speaking. But that is good, no?”
His dark eyes questioned mine. Keeping my face neutral was not easy. “That is a very good quality, if you want a woman who would guard her every word with you. Who would not tell you what she was thinking.”
Eyes now impenetrable, Marco retreated into some dark place.
“What is it? Have I been too honest?”
He began flicking his lips with a forefinger. A slow swirling began in my stomach as I watched. “No, honesty is good. I’m just thinking back. Bianca was like that. She was a scared little kitten.”
Thinking of that tiny kitten in the stable, my heart went out to the girl who had been Marco’s young bride. Who’d ended up in that isolated tower room. “How young was she?”
“Eighteen when we married. We had Gregorio a year later.” His eyes grew bleak as he thought back. “Now I realize she was too young. I was in my late twenties.”
This was absolutely none of my business so I would not ask. I pressed my lips together but the words in my head blasted them apart anyway. “What happened to Bianca––if y-you don’t mind my asking?” The last words came stuttering out. This was a minefield.
“Yes, you may ask. Because I really don’t understand it, even now.” He gave his head a shake. “She became so unhappy. Maybe she had always been that way. Later I thought maybe she married me to get away from her parents, who were very strict with her.
“She argued with my mother about everything, especially after having Gregorio. That room in the tower? She insisted on it after the baby. Although I loved her very much, she would not let me touch her.” Marco looked so sad. “I think she took her own life, Christina.”
I felt gutted. “Does Gregorio know that?”
Marco shook his head. “No. Bianca was not herself, even though I took her to the best psychologist…” He glanced at me. “Is that the right word.”
“Yes. Yes it is.”
“Well, he was the best in Milan. He gave her those pills. But her unhappiness grew.”
“Oh dear.” Now that tower room seemed even more sad. “Gregorio took us there.”
“He did?” Marco looked amazed.
“Well, yes, the day that we toured the dungeon…”
Marco rolled his eyes. “Why?”
Time to recover or Gregorio might be put on the spot. “The tour was very educational. I wanted Lexi to see it. You know, kind of a glance into medieval Napolitano.” What total nonsense.
He gave a dismissive guffaw. “Medieval?”
