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Chapter 11: Anne, 1883
What a curious man he is! Overwhelmingly infuriating one minute and utterly intriguing the next. Yes, I am fascinated by him despite my words, but I am determined to keep that hidden lest it tilt the power balance between us if he knew.
I do not know how I came to the conclusion that he was involved in the accident surrounding that girl but it was as if suddenly everything fell into place. I realised all at once that only a terrible tragedy could've inspired such slavish and passionate commitment on his part.
But how reckless I was to directly confront him with this. Despite his illness, I have no doubt that he could still kill when pushed too far, and in retrospect my assumption that he wouldn't harm me because I saved his life, seems a feeble one. Yet here I am, alive and well and by his side. Too much excitement seems to tire him quickly and I am concerned he might start fitting in his sleep.
So I remain on the edge of the mattress, one hand on his shoulder, trying to piece together the shreds of information he has provided me with. He was involved in the accident that caused the girl to break her neck. He feels accountable yet begged me to understand that he never meant to harm her. Perhaps it was an accident, after all?
While my thumb brushes over his shoulder, I let the scene play out in front of my mind's eye. I picture a faceless girl backing up against the balustrade which crumbles and gives way, sending her tumbling down. I hear her screams and the sickening crunch as bone meets concrete. But why had she been backing away in the first place? He claims that she had cornered him and yet it had been her, falling to her death.
She needed to see.
See what? Something he had been blackmailing her with as well? Or was it something that lay beneath the mask? Could it be that it wasn't simply an eccentric accessory but a means of hiding something truly hideous? How terrible would it have to be to send someone tumbling back and off a balcony?
Shaking off the thoughts, I lean in closely to check on his breathing and pulse and then make my way out of the cellar, clearing away the bowl of water and the towels he used. I feel unusually tired, as if all the secrets I'm keeping are weighing me down, but settle at my desk first to write. There are some tasks I've been neglecting while taking care of the stranger and I am nearly out of time.
Aurelio doesn't arrive the next morning and I am glad to see that I seem to have, indeed, convinced him of my ability to cope on my own for a day. Not that he would've accepted that but adding that I was planning to spend my time with Teodora seems to have done the trick.
I wash and dress myself, then prepare some breakfast, half of which I wrap up for the stranger. He is still out of it when I make my way downstairs and so I serve him silently, swiftly wash his bloodied hands and depart.
I feel a mixture of trepidation and excitement at accompanying Teodora to another meeting today. The group of women she spends her time with couldn't be more different from the group that I surrounded myself with in England. They are all very spirited, aggressive even, and seem determined to bring about change by any means possible. While sceptical of me until the end, they embraced my stories of the printing press in England and even more so, my idea to construct one here to print our own pamphlets.
The only trouble is that in my need to make myself more desirable, I might have exaggerated my capabilities. I cannot build my own press, nor do I have the connections to acquire the parts that are necessary. I can only hope that they won't press me for information today but I have the feeling they're not the kind of people to let things like that pass lightly.
As I make my way across the courtyard, the warm sunshine comes as a welcome change, nourishing a part of me that seems to have wilted in the shade and confinement of the house. I am also aware of a certain power the masked stranger holds over me, a power that continues to linger even though he has ceased to be a threat to me. There is a heaviness that surrounds him, perhaps it is the weight of his own life's misery that taints me when I'm close to him or perhaps it is the tension that remains after our uneasy truce.
It's only when I spot Teodora waiting for me in front of her house that I feel myself relax.
"You look relieved," she greets me with a chuckle, "I'd expected you to be more at ease without your father around to pressure you."
I grimace and avert my eyes but do feel obligated to provide her with an answer.
"You'd be surprised by the kind of things going on in his absence." I mutter but become acutely aware that I sound just as provocatively mysterious as the masked man. How fortunate that he isn't around to call me out on it. "I really wish I could tell you more but at the moment that's not possible. Perhaps in future…" I add somewhat guiltily and she nudges me.
"I very much hope so."
Her smile is open and genuine still and as we make our way down the little alley, she links arms with me. I am more than just a little relieved to see I haven't scared her off yet.
"Does your husband know where you're going?" I inquire curiously and she nods.
"Yes, and he's very happy for me. I know Massima and a few of the other women wouldn't necessarily agree with me but I don't believe all men are innately against equality and progress and my husband is a prime example. He knows I am happy to take care of our house and family but he also knows I have other interests and allows me to explore them, whether they be deemed appropriate for my gender or not."
"You're very fortunate," I exclaim genuinely, "that's the kind of relationship I am hoping to find one day."
We cross a small piazza with a beautifully crafted fountain whose water I use to refresh my arms and neck. The heat of the sun has turned from comforting to merciless.
"So you've never considered a serious relationship with any of the men your father found for you?" Teodora asks with a playful grin and together we continue walking.
"No," I laugh, elbowing her, "not one of them. They are mostly dull. There's no spark there, no passion driving them and truth be told, some of them weren't particularly intelligent either."
"But they have money and social standing, I presume?" Teodora intersects and I nod.
"Yes, plenty of both and little expectations for me, other than to become a wife and mother."
"And neither of those options appeal to you?"
I hesitate and pluck at my dress, reluctant to answer.
"Every now and again it'll occur to me, usually when I feel lonely and sorry for myself," I chuckle and hope it'll lighten the mood, "and then I think that perhaps it might even be enjoyable but certain things are too late now in anyway."
"Don't sound so desolate. That's not like you at all." Teodora coaxes gently, wrapping an arm around my shoulder to draw me closer.
"You'd be surprised." I answer but leave it at that when I notice that we've arrived at the house.
It's a large villa with a sweeping staircase that leads to the entrance and two prominent campanili on either side. It is an heirloom that's been in the possession of Fiorentina's family for generations. And it is her who answers the door.
"Punctual as always," she quips, waving us inside, "the others have already assembled."
"Anne had a few more tasks to take care of now that her family is away." Teodora offers before I can say anything and Fiorentina breaks into a frown.
"I thought you had a butler?"
I detect the same disdain in her voice that I had heard upon our previous meeting.
"We do but he didn't need to be there today, I could just as well handle it myself."
She hums but gives me a look that's filled with disapproval. I resist commenting though because I know there is no way for me to win this argument. I have been judged for relying on a butler and now I will be judged for trying to do without him. But I do exchange a look with Teodora that conveys my annoyance. She rolls her eyes and shrugs and keeps on striding across the corridor after Fiorentina until we're finally reunited with the rest of the women.
Within seconds all eyes are on us but as quickly as their interest has surfaced, it leaves again. Massima and her cohort whisper conspiringly amongst themselves while Susanna, Constanza and some other women come to greet us at least. They hug Teodora warmly and embrace me with polite courtesy which is more than I can really hope for at this moment. We have just enough time to exchange a few pleasantries and pass around a tray with cool juice before Fiorentina calls the attention to her.
"I trust you're all well, my friends? Let us first discuss a few old and new items on the agenda and then have our usual reading."
Agreeable murmurs echo through the room and her face takes on a pleased expression.
"We have secured a huge victory in Testaccio where we can now legally display the pamphlets and posters sent to us from Milan."
Everyone erupts into cheers but I fail to muster the same level of enthusiasm. It's not that I am not thrilled but it is a small step forward at best and I am hesitant as to the impact this will really have. Besides, I have inspected one of the pamphlets they're circulating and can't say I entirely agree with their radical ideas and demands. But that opinion, especially, I keep to myself.
I am so engrossed in my contemplations that several minutes pass before I direct my attention to Fiorentina once more.
"Let us also not forget about more opportunities for work for women."
I narrow my eyes and try to focus on her which is made difficult by the fact that suddenly everyone starts talking over each other.
"Anne might be able to contribute something!" Teodora calls and for a second I am unable to link her words with my person but eventually they sink in.
"Contribute?" I frown, blinking at her.
But a hush has fallen over the room once more and the women have turned to face me.
"You mentioned last time that you have some experience working, did you not?" Massima chimes in too now, sounding disinterested.
"Well, I…"
"You mentioned it last time." Fiorentina repeats unnecessarily and I can tell that both of them are hoping to catch me out on a lie.
"I have worked a few hours in the field, yes. But I was dressed like a man and I didn't hold a firm contract."
"The chief grape picker knew you were a woman though, didn't he?" Teodora prompts encouragingly.
"He never admitted to it but I could tell. That's why I had to insist on my pay every time."
"No doubt," Constanza agrees seriously and several other women chime in, some of them whispering excitedly, others cursing heartily.
"Perhaps Anne could write about her experience in the next pamphlet?" Teodora suggests, raising her voice above all of them again.
My head snaps in her direction and with a great deal of effort I keep my mouth shut. I know she means well but I have never tried my hand at political statements or revolutionary opinion pieces, and quite frankly it's not something I am comfortable with.
"Why not?" Massima replies to my surprise. "Then she might as well churn it out using that printing press of hers. Wasn't she supposed to bring a sketch and a manual along today?"
"I have it here!" I cut her off sharply, rummaging in my satchel.
"Let me see," Fiorentina hums and walks over to take the papers off of me.
She examines them in silence for a moment, then passes them on to Massima.
"So? Are you up to the challenge?" she finally asks and despite the reluctance I feel inside I hear myself say: "Of course."