The knocking started and the three of us froze. Alberto and I looked at each other, and then at my uncle. He glanced at us and then stood up from his seat. "Now who could that be?" He wasn't asking either of us in particular. As he approached the front door this anxious coil twisted around both Alberto and my chest at the same time. Alberto put his hand over top of mine to grab my attention. "Ilaria, the storm….." He was referring to his fear that it might start raining soon, trapping him inside. Not that I would mind but I think Uncle would be confused as to why Alberto would refuse to go help him tie down everything outside. He had to be out of here before that point arrived.
As Uncle opened the front door I quickly urged him out the back door just in case. "I'll be right back," I half-whispered to him before shutting the door. By then the stranger's voice could be heard from the other side of the house. Imagine my surprise when I spun around to see none other than Papa's solicitor standing there with his briefcase in hand. Uncle was more than a little confused so I rushed in to act as chief for the situation. A quick check out of the corner of my eye confirmed that Alberto was still outside, pressed up against the back wall of the house and standing right next to the window so he could listen.
"Buon pomeriggio, signore," I clasped my hands together, speaking respectfully to our guest. The solicitor grinned at me with a polite air. "Bonjour, mademoiselle Marcovaldo." "Er, Italian please. My uncle can't speak French," I inward cringed at my social indiscretion. Uncle blinked to me surprised. "You know this man, Ilaria?" "Um, yes. Zio, this is Papa's solicitor. He's the man Papa hired to appraise your fishing enterprise." "My fishing business?" Uncle's eyebrow drew up. The solicitor set his briefcase down onto the kitchen table and opened it up. He next pulled out a small stack of papers.
"Yes, and the appraise of signore Marcovaldo's estate is complete. Together with your client list, fishing gear and other assets, and the current state of the market, miss Marcovaldo has the dowery of precisely five thousand lira," the solicitor announced. "Oh," Uncle seemed satisfied with this, his face visibly relaxing. Mine, however, looked suddenly ill. I don't think saying I felt "floored" is accurate enough. It was someone just slapped me in the face- hard. And the solicitor also wore a stern, disapproving expression.
I had to put my hand on the chair out in front of me, I came that close to falling flat on my face. "F-Five thousand….? That's it?" "Five thousand is a lot of money, Ilaria! I didn't think the business was worth that much," Uncle tried to palate me, which didn't work. I honestly felt like I was going to throw up. My other hand drew up to my churning stomach. "No…. No. There must be some mistake; there has to be more. I was raised with the expectation that I would have a sizable dowery to bring into my marriage. All of my education surrounded that sole fact! My father…. My father brought me up to be a lady of consequence! He would be appalled to hear…. No, it has to be more! A dowery of ten thousand lira would be the minimum I should think!" And I'd never seen Uncle look at me like he had in that moment. It was the solicitor who nodded his head approvingly at my words.
"You're quite correct, miss Marcovaldo. Ten thousand would be a good "starting point" for someone of your stature. As I'm sure you'll well appreciate, I have not informed your father on the matter as of yet, for I'm sure his disappoint would be too great to bear." "You're absolutely right! He would…. I mean, he expects…. This is not how he raised me!" "Ilaria!" Uncle scolded, only to be completely ignored by the both of us in the room with him. "I have to have a bigger dowery! He won't be satisfied unless there's at least ten thousand resting for me. Plus there's the cost of the wedding itself to consider… No, out of respect for my father and our position in society, I must procure a more substantial dowery." "Be reasonable, niece! Where do you expect to find another five thousand lira? I don't make that in ten years," Uncle fired at me.
I thought about it for a moment, bringing my forefinger up to my lip. "What about my inheritance? Could that count towards my dowery?" I then asked the solicitor. He shook his head. "No. There's no certainty what you will inherit at the time of your father's passing. Your dowery must be procured from what your mother brought into your parents' marriage, or what the men in your family can afford to offer." "I can't have a small dowery. It would be shameful for my family in Florence if anyone back home ever found out," my hands lightly slammed onto the tabletop. Again the solicitor nodded in agreement. "Quite right, young lady. But the one it would be most damaging to is, of course, you. But certainly one of your lineage must has alternative sources of means," that was his way of indirectly telling me what to do. My eyes widened and that crystalized obedient part of my brain kicked rapidly into gear. My back straightened up and I relaxed my face and my shoulders, grinning somewhat. "Yes, of course. I'm sorry to have raised my voice in such an un-lady-like fashion. Not to worry about the situation. I'm sure my grandparents will be happy to supply the rest of my dowery."
Uncle looked shocked while the solicitor nodded yet with more approval. "Very good. You are well educated, I see. Personally, I was matched up during the Season back when I was studying in Rome. Of course I do not need to remind someone of your class of the importance of one's family-standing when it comes to forging a good marriage. Any potential matches will be aware of your dowery before you even arrive back in the city, and to that fortune they shall not be indifferent. Indeed, it is a gentleman's right to make a demand of that nature on your father, or in your case uncle and grandfather." "It is?" Uncle sounded so perplexed, like we were speaking a totally different language. I understood however and nodded. The solicitor cleared his throat. "I am pressed to remind you though, that should your maternal grandfather contribute to your dowery, then it is his prerogative to have a say in who your match ought to be. And I should think that he would want you back in Rome for the Season."
He said this and the colour drained from my cheeks, mostly because I knew he was right. If I did ask my mother's parents for the money, they would most definitely want more of a say over my life. They wouldn't be happy with me marrying a mere fisherman, or even continuing to live in Portorosso. Life would suddenly change again for me, and not for the better. Uncle seemed to recognize this too as he now gave me a sympathic expression. "Now, niece; this is not necessary. All that will be hurt is your father's pride if you don't have a bigger dowery. You don't need to ask anyone for more money." I thought it over for a minute before grinning back at him gently. "You really think so?"
Our little conversation was interrupted by the solicitor slamming his briefcase closed. He looked at me with a disproval I hadn't seen since the day I was caught drawing in the middle of class back in seminary school. He shifted his feet so to directly face me.
"Young lady, I am surprised at you! You, who are so well-versed in the high world of Italy. We both know what a low dowery means for your future, and to be frank, five thousand lira is pitiful state for a lady of your rank. This is precisely what your father wishes to avoid and the exact reason why I am here. Do you think any man of esteem or quality will even gaze in your direction with such an ungenerous settlement to bring forth into the marriage? Surely not, as you are well aware. Your current fortune will be held in contempt- it is held in contempt." "I-I know….." My poor voice was now trembling. This was more humiliating than Ercole proposing to me in public. This was a dressing-down from a man who spoke your language, who knew what you knew, and was from your social world. In essence he was my father's equal, and his reprimand sure felt on par.
He waved his white-gloved finger at me reproachfully. "You should be more concerned with your present situation than your grandparents' future influence. Stop being so childish and submit to what you have been raised toward. You were born into privilege and with that comes specific obligations- you are expected to meet these obligations. And you must do what will secure you a good and comfortable future. Your portion is so unhappily small that it will likely undo the other attraction of your loveliness and other perfections," a very awkward and tense pause set in here. I tried not to shake as the solicitor took a few steps my way, now looking much softer and less intense. "I tell you all this for your sake, miss Marcovaldo. Your father and I must do what is best for you. This is what is best for you- you and your family. I'm sure your uncle and grandfather will be in agreement with me." Uncle said nothing and I looked down at my feet.
I bid the solicitor a safe journey back to Rome as I saw him to the door; Uncle stayed in the kitchen. I shut the front door, standing there for a moment staring at the wood. My hand rested up against it, slowly sliding off as I turned back to head into the kitchen. Uncle did not look happy- not at all. Though I doubt it was me he was mad at.
His head gave a grave shake. "What a bastard," he muttered under his breath. I still stared blankly out into space, my hand propping up on the chair's top again. "He's right…." My voice was monotone. Uncle looked at me furiously. "Now don't you listen to a word he said! That man doesn't know what he's talking about." "But he's right, Zio! Five thousand is not a good dowery. I won't make a good match with that amount." Uncle waved his hand around in the air, as if to banish all the stupidness in the room. "Bah, nonsense. No one in Portorosso cares about any of that." "But my father does and will. When he finds out…." Uncle put his hand firmly on my shoulder. "That doesn't matter. Look, niece; it's like I said. Your father loves you, and he's doing what he thinks is best for you. But he doesn't understand how things work out here. Most guys work a lifetime before making five thousand lira- it's not "nothing" in Portorosso. Why, any man would be tickled pink with five thousand; you don't need more than that. And as for the wedding costs, don't worry. I'm sure we'll manage when the time comes. Trust me, Ilaria; you have nothing to worry about- not a thing."
Still a bit hesitant, I met my uncle's gaze straight on. I nibbled my bottom lip apprehensively. "But… What will Papa say? I want to be a good, obedient daughter." "You already are, Ilaria. He may not like it, and he doesn't have to. Scrambling to get a bigger dowery would only be for his pride; it's not necessary or practical. I doubt your grandparents would want you marrying us seafolk anyway." Only then did I chuckle. "Yes, you're right. So you're…. really sure that it's not necessary? This goes against everything I was taught in school." "Haha, didn't I say before your father paid too much for your education? Yes, niece, five thousand is more than enough, I promise you. If your father has any issues with it, he can talk to me. This is not your fault and I'm not about to let you get punished for it." I smiled at him. "Thank you, Zio. Thank you so much….."
Of course the next thing Uncle did was to go write Papa a very long letter and I wanted to go check on Alberto. Admittedly I was anxious to open the back door, wondering how much he'd heard of the conversation. Probably all of it, I inwardly cringed. Still, it may be a good thing as this is just more confirmation that I'll be staying in Portorosso. Staying, and getting married here….. That thought made me smile a little.
I opened the back door slowly. "Sorry about that, Alberto. I didn't mean for us to get so loud…." My voice trailed off as I realized that the yard was bare. Startled, I stopped under the doorway to scan around, searching for my dearest friend in confusion. "Alberto? Alberto!" There was no sign of him anywhere, which was weird since it hadn't started raining yet. Maybe he wanted to leave early just in case, I reasoned with myself. It seemed possible, only… Something didn't sit right with me. It wasn't like him to go without saying goodbye like this. I bit my bottom lip again nervously. "I wonder how much he heard…..?" That question didn't leave my head for the rest of the day, to which there was no sight of Alberto. None whatsoever.
[End of part 3.]