The major, who had brought her to the hospital and certainly ordered the tea, stood guard in the shadow of a Corinthian column. Nora saw compassion, for once unquestionable, clearly on his face. A fierce desire to be held and comforted engulfed her.Absurd wish! Who would comfort me? This man?
“Oh, Mio Caro!” A swish of black muslin engulfed Nora and two arms came round her. Mother Margarita didn’t wait to ask; she simply hugged her. Nora understood only her name, felt only concern, but it was enough. She wept as if her heart would break.
When the tears finally ended, a gentle hand touched her chin and pulled her face upward. She looked into Mother Margarita’s caring black eyes. Soft words washed over her.
“She says you are a strong woman.” The major’s deep rich voice, suddenly near, rumbled through Nora.
She sniffed wetly and glanced up in disbelief, shaking her head as if to deny it, and took the handkerchief Mother Margarita offered.
“She says even strong women cry when faced with loss.”
Nora nodded numbly. Mother Margarita, satisfied with what she saw, stood up.
“Today you may cry and rest,” her major translated. “Tomorrow is time enough to face what must be faced. She asked her sisters to bring you a light supper here.”
Nora started to protest. “I couldn’t eat!”
“She’s right,” Major Bently insisted. “She says you will need your strength.”
“The funeral. I have to make arrangements,” she protested.
“Your brother made arrangements when it became clear he would not get well. Mother Margarita gave the information to me two days ago.”
“To you?” she asked, outraged.
“You had enough on your mind.” He waved some folded papers. “You don’t need to worry about planning the funeral.”
“Isabella?”
The little nun spoke directly to Major Bently.
“The Reverend Mother agrees that Isabella is the most important thing. She asks if you are able to tell the little one what has happened.”
Nora nodded fiercely.
“Good. She says that you may see her this evening after you have eaten something. Mother herself wishes to talk with you about Isabella tomorrow. She is very firm about that,” he told her.
The nun handed her some folded papers before she could speak.
“This message came from the embassy,” the major translated.
Nora took it nervously, glancing at Mother Margarita. The missive was sealed, but she had a feeling the nun knew what it held. She broke the seal and read. Wentworth, blunt and to thepoint, did not waste ink on trivialities. Her heart gave a leap of hope.
Your brother,it appears, was a careful man. Salvia crafted an excellent will. He shall leave his entire estate to his only daughter, Isabella. He stipulates that you are to oversee her care. There are other stipulations—conditions you may not wish to accept.
Nora mentally amended “shall leave”to “left.” Wentworth included few details, but there appeared to be a house and enough for Isabella’s care. She looked back and forth between the Reverend Mother and Major Bently as though either might enlighten her, but, of course, neither knew the conditions.
She handed the message to the major who scanned it quickly.
“Good, on the whole.” He said when he had reread it carefully. “Good I think.”
“We’ll know when we hear the conditions,” she said. The major’s eyebrows rose at Nora’s use of “we,” but he said nothing.
She pointed to the note. “He also says that advocates from Castellimonte have already contacted Robert’s legal representatives to indicate their interest in the estate—and Isabella.”
Major Bently looked at Mother Margarita. “Shall I translate?” Nora nodded and then listened while he translated the message. Mother Margarita’s frown deepened. She spoke to him quietly.
“Is there a problem?” Nora demanded.
