Chapter Twenty-Two
That Claudia had refused to believe in the seriousness of his intentions yesterday was already bad enough. So bad, in fact, that he was honestly surprised that he had managed to find his way to Viscount Caiani’s palazzo in that state. But getting pelted with insults in a mixture of Italian and a dialect he did not understand, well…that was making everything even worse.
Viscount Caiani’s immense study shook under his boots as he strode in heavy steps. Hundreds of statues adoringly gazed upon him with their empty eyes. He was a tiger roaring against the bars of its cage, fearsome but impotent.
‘You have gone insane, Campbell,’ he said at last, pausing, sweating profusely. ‘There’s no other explanation.’
‘Maybe I have!’ William wiped the sweat from his face too. ‘But this is all I have to say. You can threaten me to skin me alive and blow the Antiquarians’ Club up for all I care. You won’t have those artefacts from me.’
‘Has anyone promised you more?’ Caiani roared. ‘They cannot have promised you more than what I ’d give you. This is your chance, Campbell! Your chance to have this bloody cesspool of a town kneeling at your feet.’
‘If you put it that way, my lord, the prospect is not particularly appealing.’
His sarcasm was lost on Caiani.
‘What got into you, Campbell? Why ? I demand to know why!’
‘The reasons are my own, my lord.’ William clenched his jaw. ‘I am sorry that I must disappoint you this time. We have always worked so well together and—’
‘Well, that’s over now. You and your brother better stay out of my sight. You’re the only two antiquarians I trusted in this filthy town, but I’ll be damned if I buy a single Roman coin from you two ever again!’
Great. Now Eric was going to pay for his mistakes too. Time to sweeten the bad news.
He extracted from his satchel the golden armband that Claudia had gifted him and placed it on the table. Caiani’s eyes lit up with the familiar mixture of craving, wonder, and humility that would course through him too each time he worked with Roman artefacts. By the looks of it, not even the prospect of a fortune had convinced him to deprive himself of that sensation.
‘I hope you will accept this as an apology, my lord.’
Caiani tried it on his rather too muscular arm.
‘Can you believe it, Campbell?’ Caiani whispered, mesmerised, his voice softening as though whispering to a lover. ‘Cassius must have worn this on the day of his wedding with Claudia Cornelia. This armband saw her. It bears the memory of her face.’ Caiani’s eyes became a little wet. ‘Ah, goddamn it! All this dust in here…’
The armband may well have seen Claudia Cornelia. But to him, it bore the memory of Lady Claudia placing it on his arm, just before they had kissed.
‘Lady Claudia gifted it to me,’ he said absent-mindedly.
Caiani lifted his gaze slowly, furiously.
‘So this is what happened, uh? Lady Claudia turned your head? And I thought you were a clever man! Campbell, believe someone who thrives on the ruin of others. Never take a decision for a woman.’
‘It is not for her, my lord.’ He was not going to take lessons about love from a man who owned the most famous brothel in town. ‘And I think we are done here.’
He bowed and made for the door.
‘Campbell?’
What now?
‘You better marry the woman. Because that may just be enough to compensate what you turned down. A shag? Not a chance. Not even with her. Now get out of my sight!’
Caiani didn’t need to ask twice.
Well, that had gone well, all things considered. He was still alive and unscathed, which was never a given when Caiani was involved. Hopefully the Viscount would calm down. It would be a damn shame to lose him as a customer.
He would think about the consequences later. For now, he would just enjoy the strange feeling of lightness that was spreading to his limbs. A weight had been lifted from his soul. For the first time in his life, he felt free . Miserable, yes, but free nonetheless, delivered from that ancient hunger. He had always thought he craved immense wealth for himself, while in fact he had wanted it to buy the respect of people who despised him. Now he could discover who he was without that need determining his every move. He would have wanted to find that out together with Claudia. And maybe there was still a chance that he would. She cared about him, there was no doubt about that. But she was afraid, and understandably so. After all, they had been complete strangers until a few weeks earlier, and she was conscious of his inexperience in matters of the heart. He’d give anything to find a way to reassure her that he was here to stay, but time was against them. She was due to travel back soon.
‘Mr Campbell?’ A voice called, soft and endearing. ‘Mr William Campbell?’
He turned around.
Standing there, like a wound in the sunlit Via del Corso, was the Earl of St Cross. He was dark and tall, and very handsome when seen up close. St Cross had tilted his head to inspect him. He had a rather sympathetic face, with big and pensive black eyes. Looking at him, one could have never guessed what he had been capable of.
But William’s whole body contracted and flared with memories of pain. An old, familiar ache, which was not just his own. It was Eric’s, and Edmund’s, and Claudia’s too.
‘I am most sorry to bother you.’ St Cross’s affable voice crawled deep into his entrails, filling him with a subtle dread. ‘I was wondering whether perhaps you’d have a moment to spare? I am the Earl of St Cross.’
Do not engage.
‘I am afraid I am in a hurry—’
‘It is about Lady Claudia.’
He hesitated.
‘Now, Mr Campbell, I am hoping we can clarify a slightly unpleasant matter between the two of us—’
William kept quiet.
‘I am soon to be engaged with Lady Claudia, Mr Campbell. This is a polite request to stay away from her.’
‘I need to go now—’
‘Not so fast, Mr Campbell.’ St Cross barred his way, his soft voice tinted with a veiled threat. William recoiled, horrified, not to bump into him.
‘Did you hear what I said, Mr Campbell? Stay. Away. From. Her.’
His heart began pounding unevenly. His hands were beginning to tremble.
No…please, not now…
‘I’ve seen your face on the Gazette Internationale. It was you in that alley with her. Are you one of her lovers? She always took people like you .’
Do not listen. He’s just trying to hurt you.
‘Or…or perhaps you are hoping for something more? Let me disabuse you, Mr Campbell. I pride myself on enjoying the Earl of Eddington’s full confidence. I know very well where you and your brothers came from…’
A cold sweat trickled down his spine. It was harder and harder to focus on St Cross’s words.
‘…love, let alone marry someone like you? A woman like Claudia…a life of comfort and luxury…’
A bone-shattering pain coursed through him. A woman screamed. A body tumbled on the filthy floor like a wooden doll. A pool of thick black blood expanded from the woman’s head. And his hands, the tiny hands of a child, were sinking in her long blond hair.
Mum? Wake up. Please. Mum?
‘How long before Claudia tires of being a Mrs Campbell? Before she looks for a lover to give her what you can’t? She needs a man who can give her what she needs. What she deserves .’
His stomach churned. He was about to be sick, but the undisguised hatred in St Cross’s eyes sharpened his last strengths. His hands were shaking uncontrollably.
Don’t engage. Anything you say will put her at risk. Anything you say will make him strike faster. Give him a false sense of security.
‘This must be an unpleasant misunderstanding, my lord.’ He tried to conjure the honeyed, obsequious tone he acquired when speaking to those above his station. ‘Yes, I admit I couldn’t resist trying my luck with her. I had not the slightest idea that Lady Claudia was involved with you. But it may reassure you to know that it was to no avail. She had no interest in the sort of…activities I wanted to indulge in.’ Revolting. Truly revolting. But anything else would only make St Cross act faster to secure an engagement. He shrugged. ‘So that was it. I don’t like waiting around for a woman to deign to open her legs for me. There are other distractions in town.’
‘I see.’ St Cross examined him cautiously, his gaze dark and heavy. ‘Very well, Mr Campbell. It must have been a misunderstanding .’
He stressed that word as if he only half believed him, but the veiled threat in his eyes was replaced by a bored indifference.
‘I am glad we could clarify it, my lord.’
‘A good day to you, Mr Campbell.’
St Cross touched his hat. As he did so, his signet ring caught the sun. The shape of that hand, pale, delicate, and waxy seared itself on his vision. The hand St Cross had raised on her. The hand that his father, and so many other men like him, had raised on their families. The world suddenly appeared to him as a dark, viscous black ball full of the inky hatred in St Cross’s eyes.
His breaths became shallow. His teeth chattered.
He turned around and strode back on his tracks. The cobblestones oscillated under his feet.
He repeated the words he had wanted to say, just to keep himself from slipping away. The words he had not said, to keep Claudia safe.
Be very careful where you tread. Claudia is not alone. She is surrounded by people who love her and who would rather die than let her fall into your hands. I may be the son of a whore, but this town belongs to whoresons like me. From today you won’t be able to move a step without me knowing about it. You will have to watch your back everywhere you go, everywhere you…everywhere…
He was not walking straight. Everyone was looking at him. His lungs had shrunk, barely letting any air in. He just about made it back to Caiani’s palazzo .
Claudia was lying on the floor right in front of him, on the shiny terracotta tiles of Caiani’s entrance hall. An ever-expanding black pool of blood lapped at his feet, soiling his shoes.
He closed his eyes and he screamed, and he screamed, and he screamed.
***
Claudia sat up on the settee, startled, as though waking up from a nightmare.
Something wasn’t right. She felt it in her bones.
She shouldn’t be here. She should be with William, holding him to her and telling him that she felt the same, that it had been a mistake to send him away yesterday morning. But she had gone to his little palazzo twice already that day, and she had not found him home.
Unfortunately, the house had not been empty. Her cousin Iris and that gentle giant of her husband had forced her to sit and take tea with them. All the while they had waxed lyrical about their honeymoon in Naples, giving her various samples of perfect marital bliss. Feeding each other stuff over the table. Seizing any occasion to squeeze each other’s hands…and other body parts, when they thought she wasn’t looking. Calling each other names like my little dove and my little sparrow.
Sickening. Just sickening .
She would never, ever let her husband call her anything like that.
God, she was rabidly envious.
Because those two had made it. Against all the odds, they were happily married at last, and in no small part thanks to her too. She had grabbed that fool of the Duke of Montgrove by the scruff and yelled at him until he was shaking like a leaf. Until he had swallowed back all his misguided notions of honour and had agreed not to stand in the way of the wedding.
Yes, Iris and Eric had made it. She was not so optimistic when it came to herself. But there must be a way—even just to try if things could work between her and Will. She wiped away an angry tear just as Moritz entered the parlour. He was all wrapped up in a blanket, his short hair dishevelled, looking very much like an enormous, startled bat.
‘Hi, Moritz.’
He waved his hand in the air impatiently.
Let me speak.
‘So,’ he cleared his throat. ‘Klaudi…my dearest…unfortunately, I can no longer yell…so I prepared…this for you. I allowed myself to send a copy to Herr William Campbell just now.’
He handed her a note and bowed politely.
I AM SO DONE WITH THIS!!!! WITH YOU !!! WITH HIM !!! I DON’T WANT TO SEE A SINGLE TEAR IN THIS HOUSE ANYMORE!!! NOT FROM TWO PEOPLE WHO ARE MADE FOR EACH OTHER AND ARE JUST TOO SCARED TO GIVE EACH OTHER A CHANCE!!! YOU TWO LOVE EACH OTHER !!!! IF YOU TWO DO NOT MAKE UP, I WILL LITERALLY, LITERALLY LOCK YOU BOTH UP IN MY BASEMENT-YES, THE INFAMOUS RABENSTEINS’ BASEMENT!!!! -AND ONLY LET YOU OUT WHEN I HEAR ONE OF YOU PROPOSE AND THE OTHER ACCEPT!!!!
She burst into laughter.
‘I don’t think a marriage agreed upon under the threat of violence would count as valid. But still, I beat you to it. I went to look for him twice today, but he wasn’t home.’
Moritz grumbled something and climbed onto the settee. She made space for him so they could sit facing each other, sharing the blanket, like when they were children.
‘Listen, Moritz, say I agreed with you. Before I can think of anything more… permanent with him—’
‘ Marriage …you can say marriage…people have married for infinitely less…’
‘—before I can think about marriage , I need to have a plan of sorts. I’ll need to face St Cross in a way or another, won’t I? Or he will always be breathing down my neck. Same goes for my family. If I give so much as a hint that I am letting William court me, they will do all they can to stand in our way. Eric and Iris may end up paying the price for it.’
‘Do you return Herr Campbell’s feelings?’ Moritz ignored her.
‘Have you heard what I—’
‘Answer.’
‘Yes, of course I do! From the first days I spent time with him, there was this…this immediate intimacy. Like we had always known each other and something within us was pulling us together.’ It made her smile. ‘I like everything about him, even his flaws. I love that he is vain. I love that he likes expensive things a bit too much. It makes him…precious, if you know what I mean?’
And it is very, very, very wonderful to have his clever hands all over me, figuring me out.
‘You forgot…an important quality…Campbell is very handsome...’ Moritz teased her. ‘And Lady Claudia likes…an attractive man in her bed…just as much as the next woman…’ He winked at her, which was an odd sight, because having two eyes was sort of a prerequisite for winking.
‘I was trying to spare you that part.’
‘Shouldn’t… ich bin doch kein Kind …I’m not a child.’ His eye glinted with amusement. ‘How does it work…between you two? No…don’t tell me…let me guess…you order him left and right…leave him all stammering and confused…Won’t know what hit him…’ He laughed, choking himself. ‘ Der arme Mann! Poor man!’
‘Moritz!’ She flushed.
‘Ha!…I guessed right…I thought so.’
‘No, you absolutely didn’t!’ she kicked his shin, but gently. ‘God, stop being so silly! Can we change the topic please ?’
‘Yes. Let’s…Let’s talk about…the plan .’
‘The plan?’
‘I took the liberty of writing up…a campaign plan…We’ll hang it up in here…so you can look at it…every time you have doubts…Here…’
1) Murdering St Cross;
2) Threatening Earl of Eddington into approving marriage OR ALTERNATIVELY : Elope;
3) Marriage.
‘Subtle, Moritz. I’m not surprised such a fine tactician earned so many medals. However, I told you quite clearly that murdering St Cross is not an option.’
‘Death’s too good for him,’ he hissed. ‘But that just means…getting St Cross out of the picture.’
‘St Cross is the picture.’
‘And he has been for too long…we have been thinking about how to bail you out…but we haven’t been thinking about him .’
‘Well, what is there to think about? He is a possessive and violent man. Like the ones I defend my guests from. He never even loved me, but he felt defied by my refusal to marry him, and he can’t let go of it.’
‘That is all true…But there’s something else too…which doesn’t make sense at all.’
He grabbed his notebook and Claudia propped herself up with her hands on his knees to read as he wrote.
St Cross is obsessed with morality, with propriety. Which is why he despises you. He is possessive and vengeful, but he would never, ever, in a million years marry a woman whom he considers a…
He lifted his gaze.
‘A whore,’ she said with a frown.
Moritz winced and wrote on.
It disgusts me to even try and make sense of his thinking. But not even a man like him, I think, would marry you for revenge. Or maybe he would, because he is a monster . But here’s what doesn’t make sense. If all he wanted was revenge, he could simply say loud and clear what he knows about you, and destroy your reputation and your shelter. He could have done it any time! But he is not doing that. He is holding onto that information, and using it to pressure your father instead.
WHY?
And why now all of a sudden? Why not a year ago?
‘It sounds to me…’ she thought aloud, ‘like he’s in a hurry? Yes. Like he’s pressed for time. What if there’s a scandal of sorts brewing, and he’s trying to secure his position before it explodes? Or what if—what if he needs money, and it’s my dowry he’s interested in?’
‘We’ll just have to find out, Klaudi…won’t we? The twins are due back…tomorrow. What would you say…to a little excursion to St Cross’s palazzo …all together, for old time’s sake?’