Chapter 4
A s far as Melody was concerned, the evening had been too long, even though they had all been too exhausted for anything but an early dinner followed by bed.
Dear Diary, I know that Granny would say that I should rise above such things, but this Fatima woman irritates me so. There is just something about the way she smirks at me that makes me want to be entirely childish and stick out my tongue at her. Everything is made so much worse because Rat looks at her with this silly, adoring look on his face. I have no idea how long we are to stay in this house, but I am not sure that I will be able to tolerate more than a few days at the most.
Melody’s last thought before she closed her eyes and surrendered to slumber was that she wasn’t sure how long she could bear Fatima’s sly insults, Rat’s adoration of the woman, and Alessandro’s disregard towards herself. Of course, she had no idea what her alternative options might be. The trip from Venice had been long and arduous, and she could neither imagine making it again so quickly nor doing it alone with only Mary by her side. Anyway, she couldn’t imagine Rat being happy if she were to suggest it.
The following morning, Melody’s spirits were no higher. As Mary brushed and pinned her hair, Melody considered what she had hoped to achieve by forcing Rat to bring her with him. Working together with her brother to uncover Antonio Graziano’s killer in Venice, she had felt useful. More than useful, she had felt purposeful.
Ever since Melody had come into the fortune set aside for her by Granny, she had considered what she wanted to do with her life. The dowager had surprised everyone when she had set the trust up for Melody almost fourteen years earlier. Most surprising was that she hadn’t stipulated it should be used as a dowry. In addition, the dowager hadn’t insisted on Melody being much older to gain control of her fortune and hadn’t put it under the control of a male guardian. Of course, Melody would rely on Uncle Maxie and Wolfie to help guide her investments, but she need not if she chose otherwise.
Wolfie had suggested that she might use the money to help fund her further education. However, as much as Melody admired Cousin Lily for her devotion to her botanical studies, education and research, Melody knew that more academic study was not what she craved. It had been Granny who had first suggested that Melody use some of the money to travel. Still, even though it had been barely a month since she had left London, Melody could already tell that drifting aimlessly through the major cities of Europe from one museum to another was not going to satisfy her.
Melody knew that returning to England wasn’t the answer; she had cut her season short and had absolutely no desire to return until it was well and truly over. If there was any downside to being a wealthy heiress, it was that, regardless of the circumstances of her birth and early years living as a homeless waif on the streets of Whitechapel, she was still the object of every wastrel third son who needed a wealthy bride.
As Mary put the finishing touches to her hair and chose some tasteful pearl earrings for her to wear, Melody made a decision: she had to find a way to persuade Rat to include her in whatever this mission was. Melody knew that she was a good investigator, and she also believed that, however reluctant he had been to collaborate with her initially, Rat knew it too. Of course, the fact that he was now working in partnership with Alessandro complicated matters, but surely there was a way around that.
Melody was filled with a new energy and determination; one way or another, she would be part of whatever it was that had brought Rat and Alessandro to Morocco. But first, she had to persuade Rat to tell her what exactly that was.
Descending the stairs, Melody was greeted by Ahmed. “Salem alaykum, Lalla Melody. Would you like some breakfast?”
Melody found that she was hungrier than she had thought. During their trip from Tangier, they had limited opportunities to sample much Moroccan food. Most of what she’d eaten was bread, cheese, and a lot of dates. She was interested to see what a wealthy Moroccan household served for breakfast.
“Lalla Melody, Sidi Alessandro and Sidi Matthew left some time ago, and Lalla Fatima rarely partakes of food until past midday.” Of course she didn’t, Melody thought sourly. The man continued, “Might I suggest that you take your meal in the garden? It is quite beautiful this time of year.”
Indicating that the garden sounded lovely, Melody followed the man through the house and out some French windows. The garden was even lovelier than she expected. There was a heady scent of roses permeating the air, and as she looked around, it was apparent why: there were roses everywhere. Different colours, different size flowers, each more glorious than the next. In the middle of all these rose bushes was a paved area with a beautiful mosaic-topped table surrounded by wrought-iron chairs.
Ahmed indicated that Melody should take a seat, and a few minutes later, he returned with a tray laden with dates, fruit, pastries, and what looked like cake. He set everything down on the table and laid out cutlery. He left again and then returned with mint tea. Melody had tried some mint tea once during their travels, but this tea looked and smelled much more appetising. Along with the pastries, there was a pot with what turned out to be honey in it.
After Ahmed had left, Melody helped herself to an array of the baked goods. Biting into one of the pastries, she was surprised to find that it was savoury and was filled with a tasty filling of minced peppers and onions. There was what looked like a pancake, but it didn’t taste anything like the pancakes she’d had in London. She tried spreading a little honey on it and found that it was very tasty. The cake was unusual in that it wasn’t particularly sweet.
The mint tea was as delicious as it had smelled. Melody wasn’t sure she’d ever had fresh mint before and decided that she would be happy to have mint tea every morning for their stay. Unlike the cake, the tea was very sweet. Melody ate more than she should have, but it was all so appetising and interesting, and she wanted to try a little of everything.
As she ate, she wondered where Rat and Alessandro had gone. She had brought her diary down with her, and as she sipped her tea, she wrote.
Dear Diary, Did Rat leave without me because I was asleep or was it just an indication that he has no intention of involving me in whatever this is? I would like to think that if it were left to him, he would choose to include me and that it was Alessandro who dissuaded him. I would at least like to think that. Am I being foolish even to believe that? I do realise that I did not help my cause by not paying sufficient attention during the trip to Casablanca. I am not sure what my next move should be, but I need to talk with Rat. If nothing else, I must make him aware of my concerns about Fatima and perhaps even Alessandro. Though I cannot imagine that he will take my worries seriously.
Melody was so absorbed in her writing that she didn’t hear the footsteps approaching. Finally, realising someone was almost upon her, Melody looked up in surprise at Alessandro.
Assuming he had come upon her by mistake, Melody hurried to assure him, “I am almost finished. Let me just have another sip of tea, and I will leave you in peace.”
“Miss Chesterton, Melody, there is no need to leave. In fact, I came here hoping to find you.”
Melody hated how her heart skipped at these words. Treacherous heart.
Stealing herself against a flirtatious assault, Melody said coldly, “Me? What can you possibly want with me, Conte Foscari?”
Alessandro sat down, sighed, and replied, “This. This is what I want to discuss with you. This cold formality. Will it ever end, Melody?”
She had to take a very deep breath before answering. Even then, she could hear how strangled her voice was. “Excuse me, sir. But do you not think I have cause?”
“Do you? Why? Yes, I let things go too far in the gondola; I acknowledge that. In fact, I believe I said so at the time. But if that is the cause, then let me apologise again. I let myself get carried away that night, and that was wrong, and I am sorry.”
Melody wanted to scream; he still didn’t understand. Instead of screaming, she said in as calm a voice as possible, “It was not that evening, or not just that evening. You flirted with me each time you saw me and allowed me to believe, no, encouraged me to believe that you had a romantic interest in me when your only interest was in getting close enough to me to keep an eye on my brother. You knew that you were dealing with a young, innocent woman and could not have been in any doubt as to how your actions would be viewed and your flirtations received.”
As she spoke, Melody watched his face. Was there any contrition? She wasn’t sure. As she spoke the last sentence, she saw him pursing his lips a little, and his eyes dart back and forth as he was unable to maintain eye contact with her. Yes, Melody decided. He knew what he had done and to hear it said out loud made him uncomfortable. Would he acknowledge that discomfort? Melody suddenly realised that she could only stay in Morocco and continue in Alessandro’s presence if, at the very least, he could admit what he had done. Because if he conceded his ill use of her, then Melody was no longer the silly girl who got carried away with a fantasy she had entirely concocted in her imagination.
She waited. And then she waited. The silence stretched on until it was in danger of becoming very awkward. Finally, Alessandro said in a genuinely apologetic voice, “You are entirely right. I behaved in a manner that was neither gentlemanly nor kind, and I apologise. You deserved far, far better than to have a man seduce you with ulterior motives.”
Melody let out the breath she hadn’t realised she’d been holding. “Thank you, Alessandro.” She might have said more, but she didn’t feel that he deserved total absolution. At least not yet. Melody’s first instinct was to consider the matter resolved and continue with casual chitchat until she had finished her breakfast. Then, she thought about how Granny had taught her to always go on the offensive when one had the upper hand and had taken command of the battlefield.
Taking one more sip of her tea, she peered at Alessandro across the rim of her glass. There was no point in being anything other than direct; certainly, that is what Granny would do. “I wish to be involved in whatever work you and Rat have been sent to Morocco to do.”
Alessandro had an initial instinct of his own, which seemed to be to laugh in astonishment at such a brazen demand. However, he quickly schooled his face and said, “Melody, as contrite as I am, you cannot possibly believe that I can compensate for my behaviour in Venice by allowing you, an untrained young woman, to meddle in foreign espionage? Morocco is a political powder keg at the moment and the stakes are very high if Matthew and I cannot help to defuse the situation.”
“As I now know, you watched our actions closely in Venice. If that is the case, then you know the aid that I provided to my brother. I do not believe it is hyperbole to state that he would not have uncovered Xander Ashby’s nefarious scheme without my help and certainly would not have solved the murders of Antonio Graziano and Silvio Verdi. Can you deny that?”
While it looked as if Alessandro would have loved to deny it, he instead nodded his head and acknowledged, “You were undoubtedly of great service to Matthew. However, he was then working alone. Now, he and I are working in partnership.” Melody’s feelings must have been written plainly on her face because Alessandro then added, “While we cannot share all the details of this mission with you, there may be some times and places where you might be of service.”
Melody was concerned that these words were merely to placate her. Nevertheless, she realised that this might be the best concession she would get for now, and so she decided to take this opening and make what she could of it. “Wonderful. So, why do you not start by sharing where you and my brother went this morning.”
Alessandro shook his head sadly. “Alas, that falls under the category of things I cannot share with you. However, we will be visiting the Medina shortly to meet with Omar. Perhaps you can join us.” He paused and then added nonchalantly, “However, I must warn you that the Medina is not for the faint of heart.”
Melody narrowed her eyes; she knew well enough what Alessandro was doing. While she had been a child when the dowager had first started forcibly inserting herself in Tabitha and Wolf’s investigations, Melody remembered well enough conversations that no one thought she was listening to. During these conversations, it was evident that they would attempt to fob the dowager off with an aspect of the investigation that they hoped would both satisfy her need for involvement yet also dissuade her from continuing. Sometimes, it even worked.
If Melody wasn’t mistaken, this was precisely the move that Alessandro was attempting. He had no idea who he was dealing with. She would go with them to the Medina, and they wouldn’t hear a squeak of complaint out of her. Whatever fear or distaste she felt would be kept to herself.
“I would love to join you. What time should I be ready?”
If Alessandro had expected her to say otherwise, he did an excellent job of hiding it. Perhaps he had expected her to agree but still believed that she would be deterred after this one outing. Instead, he remarked, “I will ask Fatima to loan you a headscarf, unless you have something appropriate. While it is not expected that foreign women show the same modesty in their dress as the locals do, nevertheless, we should be respectful and do not need to draw undue attention to ourselves.”
Melody assured him that she had a headscarf that would suffice. For some reason, she couldn’t bear the thought of being any more beholden to Fatima than she already was by accepting her hospitality.