Chapter 17 The Name They Used Against Me
YSABEL
The estate is quiet when we arrive, most of the staff already retired for the evening. Leon parks near the side entrance and turns off the engine, and for a moment we just sit there, looking at the house.
"Ready?" he asks.
"No. But let's go anyway."
We walk in together, his hand warm in mine. Tommaso meets us in the entrance hall, his expression carefully neutral until he sees our joined hands. Then something softens in his face.
"Don Leon. Signora. Welcome home."
"Thank you, Tommaso." Leon squeezes my hand. "Is my mother still awake?"
"She's in the small sitting room, sir. With Signorina Nadia."
Of course Nadia is here. Of course this couldn't be simple.
"We should tell her tonight," I say quietly to Leon. "About the baby. Better she hears it from us."
He nods. "Together."
We find Vera in the sitting room as Tommaso said, seated in her usual chair with a glass of wine. Nadia is on the settee, looking comfortable in a way that still makes my stomach tighten even now. They both look up when we enter, and I see Vera's eyes drop to our joined hands.
"Leon." Her voice is cool. "I didn't expect you back tonight."
"I wanted to bring my wife home." He says it simply, without apology. "We have news."
"News?" Vera sets down her wine glass, her posture straightening slightly.
Leon looks at me, and I nod. I want to hear him say it here, as plainly as he said it to me at the farm.
"Ysabel is pregnant," Leon says. "We're going to have a baby."
The silence that follows is thick enough to cut. I watch Vera's face cycle through several expressions before settling on something that resembles a smile but doesn't reach her eyes.
"How wonderful," she says. "Congratulations to you both."
"Thank you, Mother."
"When did you find out?" The question is directed at me, but her eyes are calculating.
"Shortly after I arrived at my parents' farm. The doctor confirmed it before the market last week."
"I see." Something flickers in Vera's expression. "And you're feeling well? No complications?"
"I'm fine. Everything is progressing normally."
Nadia hasn't said anything. She's watching me with an expression I can't quite read, her wine glass held loosely in her hand.
"This is wonderful news," Vera says again, standing. "A Rosciano heir. We must celebrate properly. Perhaps a small gathering in a few days, to share the news with close friends?"
"We'll discuss it," Leon says. "For now, we're tired. We'll speak to you tomorrow."
We leave them there, Vera and Nadia, their silence following us into the hall.
"Do you want me to drive you back?" Leon asks quietly.
I look toward the stairs. "I want to stay tonight. But I need to call my parents, and we can collect the rest of my things another day."
He waits while I make the call. Then we go upstairs together.
***
The next morning, I call the solicitor's office.
"Signor Ferro's office," the receptionist says.
"This is Ysabel Rosciano. I filed separation instructions recently, and I need to cancel them."
There's a pause, the sound of papers shuffling. "Of course, signora. I'll note that in your file and inform Signor Ferro. Is there anything else you need?"
"No. That's all. Thank you."
I hang up and set the phone on the nightstand. Leon is still in bed, watching me with soft eyes.
"Done?" he asks.
"Done."
He holds out his hand, and I climb back beside him. "I love you."
"I know."
We stay like that for a while, tangled together in the morning light, before the day demands we get up and face it.
The days that follow are strange. Good, mostly, but strange.
I move between the estate and my parents' farm, not quite settled in either place yet. Leon and I agree that I'll stay at the estate most nights, but I visit the farm often, helping my mother with the garden and spending time with my father among the almonds.
We decide to wait until after the reception to make any public announcement about the baby.
Rather than the new celebration Vera suggested, we will host the existing thank-you event for the launch partners that was scheduled weeks ago.
Leon's idea is that we'll attend together, as husband and wife, and let people see us as a united front before any news spreads.
But the news spreads anyway.
I notice it first at the market, three days after we returned to the estate.
I've come to help my parents with their stall, as I've done before, but something feels different. A woman I recognize from the bakery supply shop glances at me and quickly looks away. Two men talking near the fountain fall silent when I pass.
"Is something wrong?" I ask my mother.
She hesitates. "There's been talk. I didn't want to worry you."
"What kind of talk?"
"About the baby. About whether..." She stops, her face troubled.
"Whether what?"
"Whether it's Leon's."
The words hit me like cold water. "What?"
"Someone's been spreading rumors. Saying you got pregnant while you were away from the estate. That the timing doesn't work."
"That's ridiculous. Leon and I were together before I left. The sickness started weeks before the launch."
"I know that. But not everyone does."
I look around the market, at the people who won't meet my eyes, at the whispers I can almost hear. My hands are shaking.
"Who started this?"
"I don't know. Gia might."
I call Gia from the quieter lane beside the square. When she answers, I tell her what my mother heard.
"You heard."
"My mother told me. What do you know?"
"A woman I know mentioned Nadia repeating it. Something about the dates not adding up. The rumor started a day or two ago. Someone's been saying that you left Leon and got pregnant by someone else, and now you're trying to pass the baby off as his to keep your position."
"That's insane."
"I know. But it's the kind of thing that spreads." She lowers her voice. "Ysabel, I think it's coming from the estate. From someone who wants to hurt you."
I don't have to ask who she means.
That evening, I tell Leon what I heard.
We're in our bedroom, the door closed. He listens without interrupting, his face growing still as I describe the whispers at the market, the averted eyes, the rumor about the baby.
When I finish, he takes my hand.
"Our child," he says quietly. "You know I've never doubted that. Not for a second."
"I know."
"And I won't let anyone else doubt it either."
"Gia said she heard it from a woman at the market. The woman mentioned Nadia by name, said she'd been talking about timing, about how I left and came back pregnant."
"Nadia." His jaw tightens. "She heard the news with my mother."
"We can't prove that."
"No. But I can make it clear that it stops." He reaches for his phone on the nightstand. "Do you mind if I call her now? While you're here?"
"I'd rather hear what she says."
He puts the phone on speaker and dials. Vera answers on the third ring.
"Leon. Is something wrong?"
"Yes. I've heard there are rumors circulating about Ysabel and the baby. About whether the child is mine."
A pause. "I'm sure I don't know what you're talking about."
"Then let me be clear. This is our baby. Mine and Ysabel's. There are no questions about that. None. And if I hear that you or Nadia have been suggesting otherwise to anyone, there will be consequences."
"Leon, I'm concerned for you. These rumors didn't start with me. Perhaps people are simply drawing their own conclusions based on the circumstances."
"What circumstances?"
"Your wife left you. She went back to her parents. And now she's pregnant. Surely you can understand why people might wonder."
"People can wonder whatever they like. You don't get to encourage them." His voice is flat and cold in a way I've rarely heard. "Ysabel was sick before I left for the launch. You were in the house. You know the timeline as well as I do."
"I'm simply saying that appearances matter, and perhaps if Ysabel had been more careful about how things looked..."
"Stop." The word cuts through whatever she was about to say. "You will stop repeating this. You will stop suggesting it to others. And you will make sure Nadia understands the same thing. This is not a discussion."
Another pause, longer this time. "I'm only trying to protect you."
"I don't need protection from my wife. Goodnight, Mother."
He hangs up and sets the phone down. His hand is shaking slightly.
"She denied it," I say.
"She always does. But she heard me."
I lean against him, feeling the tension in his shoulders. "The reception is in two days. We could cancel."
"Do you want to?"
I think about it. The gathering was planned weeks ago, a thank-you for the launch partners. Leon has asked the staff to bring the arrangements to both of us, and I have spent the morning choosing where the guests will sit. Canceling now would look like we're hiding.
"No," I say. "I want to go. I want people to see us together, hosting our own event. That's more powerful than anything your mother can whisper."
"Then we go." He pulls me closer. "And we show them exactly who we are."
I touch the yarn necklace at my throat, the soft uneven knots. "I'm wearing this."
"I'd like that."
"Nadia will probably say something about it. About how a real Donna would wear real jewelry."
"Let her. You'll be wearing something I made with my own hands. That means more than anything she could buy."
We sit together in the quiet of our room, planning the details. Which guests to greet personally. How to handle questions about the baby. Who we know will be supportive and who might need to see us united before they believe.
"I won't be at your side every second," Leon says finally. "There will be moments when we're talking to different people, when you're across the room. But I'll be there. Watching. And if anyone says anything to you that shouldn't be said, you come find me immediately."
"Or I handle it myself."
He looks at me, something shifting in his expression. "Or you handle it yourself. You're more than capable."
"I know. But it's nice to hear you say it."
***
Before the reception that afternoon, I dress carefully.