Updated 6/19/16
"So this is Locanda del Fiore di Venezia!" exclaimed Sir John as they were led to their Venetian apartment. He drew back his hood and gawked at their temporary housing. Windows lined two sides of the main parlor. One side overlooked a courtyard, the other overlooked a waterway.
Once inside, they brushed off the cold and took in the sight of their home. The floor was made of dark polished wood; the top half of the walls were painted a deep blue and garnished with gold flecks of paint, the bottom half of the wall was made of marble and from the marble came carved out columns spread every two yards for support. There were two fireplaces in the great room, a sofa upholstered with a light yellow fabric, a chaise, and several recliners. At the back of the room was card table and several feet from it was pianoforte made of mahogany.
Two doors stood next to each other at one corner of the room. One door led to their bedrooms, the library, and the finest washroom any of them had seen. The other door led to the servants rooms and connected to the kitchen and other passageways that brought the building together. Nettie declared immediately at their arrival that she was tired, proceeded towards the servant's quarters. Without a moment's hesitation, Sir John ordered her to stop and informed her that she was to sleep at the inn as a guest as per the requests of Georgia, Monsieur Rossignol, and himself.
Satisfied with her lot, Nettie helped Georgia to her room. "What an adventure we're in for, Miss. Makes me glad we left England."
"Will you stay here with me, Nettie? I do not wish to be alone. My thoughts are turning dark."
"Of course, I'll stay, dear. What do you mean?"
Georgia sat and removed her shoes and stockings. "My thoughts go to him. I wonder if he is alive and if he is well. I wonder if he has been trying to get back to me from wherever he went and if he is looking for me. Would he be hurt by my coming here?" She asked. Would he be here?
Nettie unlaced Georgia's outer dress and helped her into her nightgown.
"I ought to tell you not to go down to that party, Georgia, but I wonder about it myself. When he left me he seemed broken, but there was something brewing in his mind. He risked death by acting as he did, but he did it anyway. And he never hurt you— not when he was still around. I wonder if he has been in as much agony as you."
They both climbed into the bed, forgetting their many months of querling, and resumed their old pattern of two friends gossiping in the night. But where had her poet gone? Would he come back for her if she decided to marry their mysterious host? Her heart was torn in two and her mind was at a loss. She wanted her poet, but this new stranger was offering her things she had only dreamt of.
Sir John was the first to awaken in the apartment and upon entering the parlor he found food and coffee waiting for him. He also found a strange man dressed in a black jacket with gold buttons that ended at his waist, black, formal trousers completed the look. He stood erect when Sir John entered.
"Buongiorno, Signor Lafoy! My name is Bernardo Carlozzi. Signor Rossignol hired me as your translator. He is most eager to know if Signorina Daniels and Signora Blankenship's gowns fit."
"In this weather?" Cried Sir John. Beyond the window, it was raining and grey clouds sat like a dreary blanket over the city. "He wants them out in this?"
"Signor Rossignol desires nothing but their happiness. He has sent over cloaks for the three of you to make the weather more bearable. And the seamstress is but two streets away. Transportation will be waiting for you. Shall I have Signorina Daniels dress sent to the seamstress?"
Sir John nodded and called for his servant, Delia, to wake Georgia and Nettie. "Will Mr. Rossignol be offended if I hire my own translator?"
Bernardo bowed his head slightly, causing his small, round glasses to slide down his nose. "Signor Rossignol encourages it, but I should like to inform you that I am the only translator who speaks English in Venice this season. There are many who speak French."
"Fair enough," conceded Sir John. He made a point of expressing his annoyance to Bernardo. "What can you tell me of Signor Rossignol?" Asked Sir John as he poured himself a coffee. "Why is he so interested in Signorina Daniels?"
If Sir John's tone bothered Bernardo, he didn't show it. Bernardo seemed to expect the interrogation of his boss and was prepared to answer all questions. "As the letter he sent to Signorina Daniels states: Signor Rossignol and the lady share mutual friends who esteemed her to Signor Rossignol. He was quite taken with her."
The door in the corner swung open and through it came Nettie and Georgia, both dressed in preparation for the chill beyond their room. How long had they been up, he wondered, they usually took far too long.
Bernardo introduced himself once more and helped both women to their seats. To Georgia, he handed a folded and sealed note which she promptly tucked away in the folds of her dress. It did not go unnoticed by either Nettie or Sir John.
"As I was saying," continued Bernardo. "Signor Rossignol has an express interest in the lady, he will see to all her needs."
Georgia blushed and fidgeted nervously before slipping a grape into her mouth.
"Signor Rossignol is a good man, but not too social. He is generous, though, so the people of Venice overlook his solitary life. He saved several poorer families by putting them to work preparing for the ball."
Sir John sat back in his chair and proceeded to brush his mustache. "How did Signor Rossignol come into wealth? And Since he is so interested in Miss Georgia we should expect to meet him soon?"
"Soon, I believe, Signor. But Signor Rossignol does not convey all his plans to me. I am simply here to make your stay a comfortable one." Bernardo shuffled his feet, he was unaccustomed to standing for long periods of time. "He was hired by a merchant, Signore Pertoli of Lombardia. Signor Rossignol recovered Signore Pertoli's goods— from a shipwreck, I believe. Signor Rossignol was hired by several other men, but Signore Pertoli was so taken with him that he signed his wealth over to Signor Rossignol just before his death five months ago. Signor Rossignol is an honest man. Not a single man who hired him had anything negative to say about his work."
Sir John seemed content, but he went quiet, mulling over all that Bernardo told him. He was suspicious of Rossignol but doubted that anyone in Venice would give him any other details. Instead, he consented to sending Nettie and Georgia off with Delia and Bernardo. Sir John remained behind, sifting through the apartment in an attempt to uncover all that he could about their host.
"Miss Georgia, that gown is brilliant on you. Monsieur Rossignol chose a very unusual color for you. Pink silk over gold! I feel like a thief just for looking at it," declared Delia behind Signora Pausini, the seamstress.
While the trio of English women talked excitedly about Georgia and Nettie's gowns, the latter of which was significantly less grand, Signora Pausini fussed in a rambling of indecipherable Italian. It was obvious by her tone and tisking at Georgia that she was upset. What she was saying they could only guess without Bernardo to translate. However, with Signora Pausini's incessant jabs at Georgia's frame, they came to understand that the Italian was distressed by Georgia's size.
Georgia's depression had taken a toll on her body, reducing her to a hollowed out girl. She looked better than she had before the dress arrived, but this was difficult to convey to Signora Pausini.
The seamstress tugged at Georgia's arms and frowned at her waist. "Signor Rossignol non sarà contento! Cosa si può fare?" She crossed one arm under the other and pressed her other hand against her temple. "Ti piacciono i dolci, la Signorina Daniels? Ho biscotti. Togliere l'abito e vieni mangiare. Avremo un caffé troppo."
When they did nothing but stare at Signora Pausini she gestured wildly for them to remove the gowns and began unlacing Georgia herself. Once free of their gowns the four of them sat in the back parlor of Signora Pausini's shop. She continued speaking quickly in Italian and pointed to the cookies set on a small table for them. When Georgia ate a cookie Signora Pausini lit up, her countenance brightened and she seemed pacified long enough to rest just before another rush of Italian burst from her. She continued to mentioning Rossignol's name several more times. Georgia, however, grew impatient and curious and turned her head to observe every aspect of the parlor.
Fabrics and textiles of all types of colors were put away both neatly and chaotically. Mannequins supported her other projects and her completed garments sat protected in bags hanging on the wall. The paint on the wall was a warm pink and the molding was dark purple; there was a quietness to the room around them that made Georgia forget how much Signora Pausini was talking. But as her eyes scanned the room she caught sight of the cuff of a coat. The cuff was a majestic gold colored fabric stitched into a royal blue material, the coat seemed to mimic the coats the military officers back in England. It was almost like the coat of a prince, but it far superior to what the regent wore whenever he appeared in public.
Georgia's eyes grew wide and she turned to Signora Pausini. "Is that Monsieur Rossignol's?"
"Signor Rossignol? Sí!"
Just as Georgia was about to ask if she could see it, Bernardo entered the parlor. He greeted them in his reserved, almost prudish manner. He entreated the three English women to depart Signora Pausini's shop to return to their apartment. They thanked the talkative Italian and donned their thick cloaks and made their way back to the apartment. Although Delia was a servant and not invited to the ball, her grey eyes drank in the city of waterways and unique bridges. She even found herself at liberty to familiarize herself with Georgia and was, for the first time, included in the relationship between Nettie and Georgia. It would be an adventure she would never forget.
When Georgia was sure everyone, including Nettie had gone to bed she quietly crept into the parlor and lit a candle. She shivered in the night and convinced herself that she would simply appease her curiosity and then return to bed. She pulled out the note that Bernardo had given her earlier and read as carefully as she could in the small light.
Dear Miss Georgia,
I am utterly smitten with you. It is brash— bold— according to some, and even imprudent to most of society. But I pride myself on being unconventional. This may all seem strange to you and I am glad, if this were normal I believe you would find me dull.
I trust Bernardo is not too cold? For being one of the few people here who speaks English he seems to harbor no love for them. He will convey my letters to you. I ask that you send but one letter in reply as Sir John would not find them to be prudent.
We shall meet at the ball, but not before. This must all sound like a fairytale to you and even to me at times, but my only desire is your happiness. I am completely at your mercy.
Until the ball,
forever yours,
M. Rossignol
Georgia read the note once more. Rossignol struggled to collect his thoughts and had not understood the impropriety of his actions. She blushed profusely, but she was not disturbed. Something about him seemed so familiar and she began to entertain an idea she kept entirely to herself.
"Signor Rossignol non sarà contento! Cosa si può fare?" "Ti piacciono i dolci, la Signorina Daniels? Ho biscotti. Togliere l'abito e vieni mangiare. Avremo un caffé troppo."
Translation: "Mr. Rossignol will not be pleased! What can you do?" "Do you like sweets, Miss Daniels? I have cookies. Remove the dress and come eat. We will have a coffee too . "