Chapter 16 #2
Because I knew how swiftly Lady Capulet took offense, I said, “That would only make things worse, especially if he told her he’d married out of …
pity.” My voice faded, for from what I remembered of my grandfather, he would have done exactly that and not even known what he’d done to incur his wife’s ire.
“Rosie, that is what occurred to my sister Orseta, and the trade between my father and Lord Capulet hardened an already wounded temperament.”
“What about Samaritana?” I asked. Samaritana was the oldest sister, she lived in Padua, and her whole personality was built out of autocratic sticks and stones.
“Samaritana is the oldest, and her mother stayed alive long enough to raise her, protect her, and place her with a weak and wealthy husband, whom she intimidated all the days of his short life.” Fiametta grinned. “Poor man.”
“You had a different mother, Fiametta?” Imogene didn’t know the family history as I did.
“Yes, bambina, I remember her vaguely as a strong personality, fiercely determined to keep me safe.”
“Strong personalities run in the family,” I advised Imogene.
“State the obvious, Rosie,” Imogene said.
I grinned at her, and she grinned back.
“When my mother died, I ran wild until Father caught sight of me, remembered my existence, and tried to make his harsh bargain.” Fiametta flipped her hand in dismissal. “That’s enough about me.”
A knock sounded on the door. Without being summoned, Mahaut entered, removed our decimated tray, placed another with yet more cicchetti on the table, and vanished again.
Personally, I’d lost my appetite, and Fiametta also indicated she was sated, which left skinny woman-child Imogene to fill another trencher as full as the last one and stuff ever more in her mouth.
“Fiametta,” I said, “I’ll pen a letter to Friar Laurence, introducing you and your purpose. He’ll welcome you, especially in these precarious circumstances.”
“I’ll take Imogene with me,” Fiametta said.
I was confused, a clear indicator I hadn’t been home and paying attention. “What? Why?”
“Imogene?” Fiametta indicated she should speak.
“Oh.” Imogene put down her trencher and rubbed the back of her hand across her mouth. “I want to be Friar Laurence’s next apprentice.”
“But I …” Fiametta and Imogene stared at me while I came to the realization that while I might occasionally drop in on Friar Laurence, I didn’t have time now to work with him, and after the wedding I still wouldn’t have time to work with him.
Because I would be the princess, and Cal needed a wife by his side to support him and provide Verona with its needs, to hear the complaints and the praises, to entertain the diplomats and care for the Households.
I had learned Friar Laurence’s craft from him, speaking to the sick and diagnosing them, mixing the herbs and drugs. All had made me feel useful, needed, special, and those skills would never be lost. Now it was Imogene’s turn to feel useful, needed, special.
Moreover, she was special. Since her earliest days, Imogene had had a way of knowing the future.
Call it intuition or call it foresight, as you like, but in this world balanced between the turmoil of the benighted past and the oncoming and enlightened future, Imogene and her prescience caused our family concern.
She was delightful and wise, and we would not have her accused of congress with the devil.
I realized for her to work and learn with our much-loved and respected Friar Laurence would give her protection against sinister intentions.
Yes. A brilliant idea. “That’s an intelligent plan.” I injected enthusiasm into my voice.
Fiametta nodded approvingly.
“Really? I didn’t know if you’d let me,” Imogene said.
“If I would let you?” I was taken aback. “It’s not up to me. It’s up to Friar Laurence and Mamma.”
“I already asked Friar Laurence,” Imogene said.
“When?” That sounded critical, and I quickly amended my expression from shock to interest.
“After you got betrothed and I knew it was going to stick.”
Friar Laurence had said nothing to me.
Imogene continued, “He said he’d be proud to teach me.
He said he’d talk to Mamma, but I had to talk to you.
” She got excited, talking too fast, eyes gleaming.
“I always thought it was grand that you learned all that stuff and could fix people if God gave his blessing. Friar Laurence let me come to visit his shop, and it smelled interesting, and he told me stuff, and he had me grind leaves and warned me it was going to be boring and I’d have to do the hard stuff.
” She took a deep breath. “Rosie, I’m going to be good at this! ”
I felt stupid and neglectful. I’d been so busy with my own melodrama, I hadn’t been paying attention to Imogene’s needs and the changes that had been occurring in her life, or realized how many ways my separation from Casa Montague would impact us.
Reaching out, I pulled Imogene into my lap—she came willingly, although she was already taller than me—and I hugged and hugged her gangly body.
“I know you will, sweetheart. I know you will.”