Chapter Sixteen
Maremma, Italy
October 19, 1902
“Signorina D’Angelo, mayI speak to you,por favore?”
“Of course, Antonio.” Gabriella removed her apron and joined the deferential butler. Everything had gone perfectly with the dinner, and she expected he had come back to the kitchen to convey compliments from the dining room.
“I have a message from Lady Darling.”
Gaby was expecting the kind of praise she’d been used to getting at the restaurant. Customers were always requesting she stop by their table so they could sing her praises. Just as it did in her family’s restaurant in Chicago, it boosted her confidence when Kitty sent compliments to the kitchen. At least there was one place where she knew she belonged, one thing she knew she excelled at. In the kitchen, Gaby reigned supreme, and that singular bright spot would have to see her through the heartache and the challenges ahead.
“Wonderful. And what did her ladyship have to say?”
“She prefaces this with an admonishment that she will not accept any excuse on your part for not following her wishes.”
“What?” Gaby asked. This did not sound like a congratulatory compliment, and her heart sank.
She went over the menu in her head. In what way had she disappointed? What dish had fallen short? She couldn’t imagine it being the boar stew. She’d tasted it, and it was rich and flavorful, and she’d served plenty of extra gravy on the side for the polenta. She hoped it wasn’t the dessert that the guests didn’t like, because it would break poor Maria’s heart. The girl had put such effort into the beautiful almond cakes.
“Antonio, I’m completely bewildered about what Lady Darling’s dissatisfaction could be. Was the meal not to her liking?”
“No, she is not disappointed. In fact, from what I could see and hear, everyone very much enjoyed the meal. But she wishes you to join her in the dining room after you go to her room, and Mrs. Livingstone helps you dress for the recital that Lady Darling and Lord Langsford will perform.”
“But that’s impossible.” This was the last thing Gaby had in mind. To be in the same room with Jack and see him fawning over his future bride, Cynthia, would make her physically ill. “I-I…”
“Her ladyship said I was to tell you that she and his lordship would not perform until you take your seat in the dining room. She said if you do not want to incur her wrath, you’d best get yourself upstairs without further ado. And she also said she looks forward to seeing you and is saving you a seat next to Signore Stefano Bardino, who is most anxious to meet you.”
“Oh, damned if I don’t and damned if I do.”
Antonio’s brows rose. “Signorina, I do not understand.”
“Sorry, Antonio, I spoke my thoughts aloud. Tell her ladyship I will do as she asks.” There was no way for her to weasel out of Kitty’s invitation, or rather her demand that she make an appearance at the recital. Kitty meant well, and Gaby had grown very fond of her, but the dear lady had no idea what had occurred between her and Jack. Nor would she, if Gaby had anything to do with it, and she was sure Jack would never reveal a thing about their liaison, especially with so much on the line for him.
Gaby resigned herself to the inevitable. She would have to sit through the recital and then feign exhaustion and make her escape. “Thank you, Antonio. I’m sorry if I made this difficult for you. Please tell her ladyship that I will join them in the dining room as soon as possible.”
*
Jack considered himselfan erudite polemicist, which meant he was always ready for and valued a lively discussion. He had often considered standing for the House of Lords. Of course, until he regained his good name and title, his status as a peer was questionable at best. However, introducing controversial subject matter at the dinner table was not. He found it amusing to plant the seeds for a fiery debate.Scandal is the entertainment of the rich and spoiled.
In the newspapers he received from London, he’d read about the performance of a scandalous new play by the thought-provoking critic and playwright George Bernard Shaw. Shaw, a socialist, believed Victorian society’s mores regarding women were repugnant. Aunt Kitty, an unrepentant fan of Shaw, never missed an opportunity to criticize society’s mores that she believed subordinated women. She supported the suffragette movement, and she was in favor of all women being offered a chance to better themselves. Aunt Kitty found it entirely intolerable that a woman could not inherit her father’s title, and she was incensed that women had little or no chance of being masters of their own ship even when they were often the more capable heir.
Jack sipped his whiskey, his gaze raking the guests. “Any of you seen Shaw’s playMrs. Warren’s Profession? I hear Lord Chamberlain has since censored it, and it could only be performed privately at the Lyric Club.”
He looked around the table, anticipating some dissension from perhaps the Marquess of Danbury. What he didn’t expect was Danbury’s wife to launch into a debate with such vocal conviction. His curiosity over her relationship with Gabriella increased exponentially as he realized the similarities between the two women. They were both outspoken and appeared not to be cowed by any man. His interest sharpened as he learned the marquess took pride in his wife’s opinions and, if anything, seemed to encourage her in every way.A most synergistic union.The only other relationship he recalled that was anything like it was Kitty and Stewart’s.
“Lord Danbury and I attended the private performance at the Lyric Club, Lord Langsford,” said Emily. “I am a devoted fan of Shaw’s work and was interested in seeing his play, which reflects my beliefs.”
“Really?” said Aunt Kitty. “How delectably scandalous you are, my dear Emily. You must tell us what the play is about.”
“I’ve heard it’s a most unseemly subject,” Cynthia said stiffly.
“And what subject is too sensitive for the public to see or hear?” Kitty asked with astonishment. “Censorship is the sword of tyrants, used to keep the masses in line, and it should not be tolerated,” she emphatically declared.
Donatella laid a hand on Cynthia’s diamond-cuffed wrist. “Mia cara, there is no reason to defend your statement. It is crass to shove the plight of the less fortunate under the noses of an unsuspecting audience that is out for an evening of entertainment. Life has never been fair, nor will it ever be fair. There will always be haves and have-nots. There will always be distinctions between… I need not say more.” The baroness didn’t have to clarify what was understood by all.
“Ahh,” said Stefano. “That insufferable notion of class distinction perpetuated by the ruling class.”
