6. Solenne
— ? —
Solenne
I’m crossing the main hall toward the kitchen, still thinking about what to tell Summer when she asks why we’re having lunch without Daddy again, when I hear raised voices from the direction of the morning room.
Not shouting exactly, but sharp, urgent, the particular pitch that makes you stop walking and listen.
I left Summer with one of the younger staff, a girl named Lucia who minds the children when Delfina is occupied.
They’re in the garden, counting ladybugs on the lemon trees, and Summer was so absorbed in the task that she barely noticed me slip away.
I wanted ten minutes to wash the morning off my face and change out of my dusty jacket.
Three weeks since the clay shoot. Three weeks since Ginevra smiled at me through that car window.
She’s been staying at the villa since then, a guest room prepared for her on the second floor, her presence explained as preparation for the fiesta committee work.
The fiesta is a week away now. I keep waiting for her to leave.
The voices grow clearer as I approach the morning room door, which stands half open.
“…cannot simply accuse without evidence.” That’s Delfina, her voice firm but careful.
“The evidence is the missing bracelet.” Costanza’s response is ice. “And the girl was the only one in that room.”
I push the door open the rest of the way.
Costanza stands near the windows. Opposite her, a young maid I recognize from the kitchen keeps trying to wipe her face without being noticed. Delfina has placed herself beside the girl. Ginevra watches from the corner armchair, a handkerchief crushed in her hand.
“What’s happening?” I step into the room, and four pairs of eyes turn toward me.
“A private household matter.” Costanza’s tone suggests I should leave.
“In my household.” I close the door behind me. “What’s going on?”
The young maid looks at me with desperate hope, the kind of expression that tells me whatever this is, she’s already been condemned. She can’t be more than nineteen, with the kind of face that hasn’t yet learned to hide what it feels.
“My bracelet is missing.” Ginevra rises from her chair, one hand pressed to her chest. “The sapphire one, the heirloom from my grandmother. I left it on my dresser last night, and this morning it was gone.”
“And you think she took it?”
“She was cleaning my room this morning. She was the only one there.”
I look at the maid. “What’s your name?”
“Teresa, Signora.” Her voice is barely a whisper.
“Teresa. Were you in Signorina Solano’s room this morning?”
“Yes, Signora. I changed the linens and dusted, like always.”
“Did you see a bracelet on the dresser?”
She hesitates, her eyes darting to Costanza and back. “I… I don’t remember seeing one. But I wasn’t looking. I was just doing my work.”
“She’s lying.” Costanza’s voice cuts through. “The bracelet was there. Ginevra is certain.”
“I am certain.” Ginevra’s eyes well with tears that look almost convincing. “It belonged to my grandmother. It’s irreplaceable.”
I turn to Ginevra. “When did you last wear it?”
“I… what?”
“The bracelet. When did you last have it on? Yesterday? The day before?”
Ginevra glances at Costanza, just for a second. “Yesterday evening. I wore it to dinner and took it off when I came upstairs.”
“And you put it on the dresser?”
“Yes. Where I always put it.”
“Has anyone else been in your room since then? Any other staff?”
“I don’t see what this has to do with…”
“It has to do with whether Teresa is the only person who could have taken it.” I keep my voice level. “If anyone else was in the room, they should be asked the same questions.”
Costanza steps forward, positioning herself between me and Ginevra. “We trust the word of family. Ginevra says the bracelet was there. The girl was the only one in the room this morning. The conclusion is obvious.”
“She’s not family. She’s a guest.”
The words land harder than I intended. Ginevra’s composed expression flickers.
“Ginevra has been a friend of this family for twenty years.” Costanza’s voice has gone very cold. “Her word carries weight here.”
“And I’m Valentin’s wife. Doesn’t my word carry weight too?”
Something moves behind Costanza’s eyes. “You have been here six months. You don’t yet understand how things work.”
“I understand that you’re accusing a girl of theft based on nothing but opportunity. Has anyone actually searched for the bracelet? Checked whether it fell behind the dresser, or got moved to another room?”
“The bracelet did not fall.” Ginevra’s voice has lost some of its trembling fragility. “It was taken.”
“You can’t know that unless you’ve looked.”
Teresa is watching this exchange with wide eyes, her hands twisted together in front of her apron. I realize she’s been silent too long, letting others argue her fate.
“Teresa.” I wait until she meets my eyes. “Did you take the bracelet?”
“No, Signora.” The words come out steady despite her tears. “I swear on my mother’s grave, I never touched it. I didn’t even see it.”
“She would say that regardless.” Costanza waves a dismissive hand. “We should call the police and let them sort it out.”
“The police?” Teresa’s face goes white. “Please, Donna Costanza, I have a family. If I’m arrested, even if they find nothing…”
“Then perhaps you should have thought of that before.”
“She hasn’t been proven to have done anything.” I step closer to Teresa, putting myself partly between her and Costanza. “You’re threatening her with the police before you’ve even looked for it.”
“I can do whatever I think necessary to protect this household.” Costanza’s composure is cracking, just slightly, frustration bleeding through the edges. “This is not a matter that concerns you.”
“Everything that happens in this house concerns me. I’m part of this family, even if you’d rather forget it.”
Teresa takes a quick breath beside me. I wait for Costanza to answer.
Delfina, who has been watching quietly, clears her throat. “Perhaps we could search the room properly before taking any further steps. If the bracelet is found, this can all be resolved without anyone being harmed.”
“And if it isn’t found?”
“Then at least we’ll know we looked.”
Costanza considers this, her eyes moving from Delfina to me to Teresa. I can see her calculating, weighing options.
“Fine.” She turns to Teresa. “You will wait in the kitchen. You are not to leave the house or speak to anyone about this. If the bracelet is found, we will discuss your future here. If it is not…” She lets the threat hang.
“I’ll take her.” I put a hand on Teresa’s arm before Costanza can object. “And I’ll help with the search.”
“That won’t be necessary.”
“I insist.”
Costanza’s smile doesn’t reach her eyes. “Very well. Delfina, please escort the girl to the kitchen and stay with her. Solenne, you may observe the search if you wish.”
It’s not what I wanted, but it’s something. Teresa has been given a reprieve, however temporary. I follow her and Delfina to the door, pausing to look back at Ginevra.
She’s watching me with an expression I can’t quite read. The tears are gone. Something else has taken their place.
I make sure Teresa is settled in the kitchen with Delfina before I step onto the garden terrace to check on Summer. She’s still in the garden with Lucia, now engaged in an elaborate game involving her rabbit and a family of imaginary butterflies. She barely looks up when I wave.
The bracelet search, when I observe it, is perfunctory. Costanza directs one of the staff to move furniture and check behind the dresser, under the bed, in the bathroom. Nothing is found. Ginevra stands in the doorway looking tragic.
I don’t believe any of it.
I can’t prove anything, but the timing is too convenient, Ginevra’s tears too ready, Costanza’s condemnation too swift. This feels staged, though I don’t know why. What does anyone gain from destroying a kitchen maid?
Unless the maid isn’t the point.
***
I wait until Ginevra follows me downstairs. At the garden end of the corridor, she turns toward a small sitting room, and I stop at its open door.
“We haven’t finished talking about Teresa.”
“I have.” She puts her handkerchief on the table by the window. “Costanza will deal with it.”
“After you accused her. I’d like to know why you’re so sure.”
She glances past me into the corridor. I move aside, leaving the doorway clear, but she makes no attempt to leave.
Ginevra’s expression shifts. The mask of fragile distress is gone, replaced by something harder, more honest. When she smiles now, there’s nothing warm in it.
“You really don’t understand your position here, do you?”
“Enlighten me.”
She moves away from the window, closer to me, her heels clicking on the marble floor. “Valentin is a kind man. Too kind, sometimes. He doesn’t like to hurt people, even when hurting them would be the right thing to do.”
“What does that have to do with anything?”
“It has to do with why you’re still here.
” She stops a few feet away, her head tilted, studying me like I’m something she’s trying to decide whether to keep.
“You were a distraction. A beautiful, famous distraction who caught his eye when he was young and didn’t know any better.
And then you got pregnant, and he was too honorable to do what anyone else would have done. ”
“What anyone else would have done?”
“Walk away. Find a solution. Not let a mistake become a life sentence.”
For a moment, all I can picture is Summer trying to fit her rabbit into Valentin’s coat at the shoot. I have to swallow before I can speak.
“Summer isn’t a mistake.”
“Of course she isn’t. She’s a lovely child. But you…” Ginevra shakes her head slowly. “You don’t belong here. You never did. Costanza sees it. Everyone sees it. The only one who doesn’t is Valentin, because he’s too busy trying to be a good man to notice he’s married to the wrong woman.”
“And you’re the right one?”