At the end of the final aria, we were standing again, my hands tingling with my heavy applause. The soprano beamed at us and curtsied, hand to her heart, as though she was humbled by our admiration.
The pianist, who was quite good, also gained applause. I went to him as everyone streamed toward the soprano and shook his hand. I told him in fumbling Italian punctuated with English that I enjoyed his playing. Whether he understood me or not, he nodded and smiled, then departed quietly amidst the adulation for the soprano.
I knew I’d never get near the woman through the crowd, so I sought Donata, who stood next to the divan. The contessa remained in her seat, but by the small, satisfied smile she wore, she was pleased that her singer had been a success.
“If this is the sort of music one has in Rome, I will leave London and dwell here always,” I declared.
“Sometimes we can find musicians to charm us in Rome,” the contessa said dismissively. “I am a patron of La Fenice, which hosts the finest companies in the world.”
“La Fenice,” I repeated. “That is the opera house in Venice, is it not?”
“It is.” The contessa’s eyes flickered at my ignorance. “My son has many business affairs in Venice, as well as in Milan. His wife is Venetian, and I have adopted her city as my own.”
Any other person would simply mean they’d found Venice captivating, but I suspected the contessa had elbowed her way into social life there and taken over. She was the sort who’d tell the Doge—if they’d had still had Doges—what to do.
The contessa did not speak of Trevisan’s wife as though she was on the verge of expiring. From the contessa’s challenging stare, she dared me to mention Trevisan’s wife at all.
“You seem to be fond of Signorina Proietti,” I ventured. Gisela had moved to her father, I saw to my surprise, the two conversing somewhat awkwardly together.
The contessa scowled at me. “Why should I not be? She is a sweet, well-bred young lady.”
Her eyes held steel. I decided, under Donata’s and the contessa’s steady gazes, that I should change the subject rather than pursue the matter.
“Thank you for allowing us to hear such exquisite music,” I said. “It was kind of you.”
The contessa nodded, nowhere near as humble in accepting praise as the soprano and the pianist had been. “It also gave you a chance to scrutinize us,” she said with withering perception. “I hope we have been satisfactory.”
With a sniff, she rose and stalked toward her guests, her walking stick tapping.
“She is an enigma,” I said softly to Donata.
“Perhaps.” Donata’s tone told me I’d missed something. She patted my arm then slipped into the fray, soon engulfed by ladies who were fascinated with her.
Grenville too was surrounded where he spoke animatedly with the soprano, and she with him, like two cronies catching up on gossip.
Proietti remained in the corner with his daughter, and Trevisan circulated among the gentlemen. The guests were polite to Trevisan and he to them, but the way they held themselves with him shouted that they considered him an outsider.
As I turned my steps to Proietti and Gisela, a hand landed on my elbow.
“Captain Lacey. How splendid to meet you again.”
I turned to see Signor Baldini, our guide through Herculaneum and Pompeii.
“Baldini,” I said with pleasure. “Well met.” I stuck out my hand and shook his. “I am sorry we left you so churlishly.”
“Not at all. I quite understood. Did you ever catch the fellow trying to injure you and your party?”
“We did indeed. He was a fellow Englishman, and I am happy to say it was a misunderstanding that we cleared up.”
Baldini’s eyes widened. “You are very forgiving. I’d have given him over to the police.”
“We settled the matter amongst ourselves.” I had no intention of elaborating on Mr. Cockburn’s troubles. Then a thought struck me. “You are an expert in antiquities, Signor Baldini. Perhaps you could help us with a problem.”
“I have some knowledge,” Baldini said modestly.
“I am going over the collection of the late Conte de Luca, but I do not always know what I am looking at. Perhaps you could see what we’ve turned up? We had questions about some of it—the history of the pieces, I mean.”
I did not like to say out loud among the aristocrats of Rome that we now believed de Luca had acquired much of his objects under not-so-legal circumstances.
