6. Solenne #3
“I would do whatever is necessary to protect this family. And if protecting this family means removing people who spread malicious lies…” She lets the sentence trail off. “Teresa. The other staff who might be tempted to gossip. Delfina. All of them depend on my goodwill. All of them know it.”
“I have resources. I could help them…”
“You could try. But I can have them out of this house within the hour. Delfina is too old to start over. Teresa’s family depends on her wages.
The others have children, mortgages, lives built around employment here.
” Costanza leans forward, her hands flat on the desk.
“Could you save all of them? Before I could upend everything they’ve built? ”
I could offer money and somewhere to stay. I cannot promise them their lives here will be waiting when this is over. Delfina has not asked me to make that choice for her.
“What do you want?”
“I want you to understand your position.” Costanza straightens. “You will not speak of this incident. You will not contradict Ginevra’s account. You will not encourage the staff to tell stories that cast doubt on what happened in that room.”
“And if I don’t agree?”
“Then Delfina will be the first to go. Tomorrow morning. I’ll give her an hour to pack.” She tilts her head, studying me. “Is that what you want? To be responsible for destroying an old woman’s life because you couldn’t keep your hands to yourself?”
The silence stretches between us. I can hear my own heartbeat, too loud in the quiet room.
“This won’t work forever,” I say finally. “Valentin will find out what really happened.”
“Valentin will hear what I tell him. What Ginevra tells him. What the staff confirm because they value their positions.” Costanza moves toward the door. “He’s a good son. He trusts his mother. He always has.”
She leaves without waiting for my agreement. I stay beside the desk until I can trust myself to walk past Ginevra without stopping.
I find Delfina in the servants’ corridor, pressing a cold cloth to her hip where it struck the table.
“Let me see.”
“It’s nothing serious. Just a bruise.” But she lets me look, lifting the edge of her blouse to show the dark mark already forming on her skin. “I’ve had worse from garden gates.”
“I’m sorry. I should have stopped her sooner.”
“You stopped her from doing more. That’s what matters.” Delfina lowers her blouse and meets my eyes. “I heard what she said. In the sitting room. What she really thinks of you.”
“It wasn’t exactly a surprise.”
“No. But hearing it spoken aloud is different.” She folds the damp cloth over the bruise again. “You’re not what they say you are. I’ve watched you with Summer, with the staff. You’re a good woman. A good mother.”
“Costanza doesn’t agree.”
“Costanza sees what she wants to see.” Delfina’s voice drops. “She’s threatened us all. The staff. Me. Anyone who might contradict the story she’s building.”
“I know. She made that clear.”
“You should not have been put in that position.”
“Neither should you.”
Delfina looks toward the kitchen door. “Teresa keeps asking whether she should pack. What do I tell her?”
“To wait until I’ve spoken to Valentin.”
I cannot promise more yet. Delfina nods, but she keeps the cloth pressed against her hip.
I nod and leave her to rest, checking on Summer one more time before I head upstairs.
She’s drowsy now, full from lunch, ready for her nap. I read to her until her eyes close, then sit beside her bed and watch her sleep.
***
The afternoon passes slowly. The doctor comes and goes, checking Ginevra’s ankle and then, at my insistence, examining Delfina’s hip. Both will heal, he says. Rest and ice. I thank him and see him out.
I spend the rest of the day with Summer.
We build a tower out of wooden blocks in the nursery, then knock it down and build it again.
She wants a story about a princess who lives in a castle by the sea, so I make one up as I go, inventing adventures until her eyes start to droop.
By eight she’s asleep in her bed, her rabbit tucked under her chin, her breathing soft and even.
I’m in our bedroom putting away the clean clothes that have been sitting in a basket since morning when I hear the front door. Voices downstairs, Valentin’s and his mother’s, a murmured exchange I can’t make out. Then footsteps on the stairs.
He appears in the doorway looking exhausted, his tie already loosened, his jacket over his arm.
“There you are.” He drops the jacket on the chair and loosens his tie the rest of the way. “Mother mentioned there was some kind of incident today. Something about Ginevra being hurt?”
I set down the blouse I was folding. “Valentin, I need to tell you what actually…”
“I know, I know. She said things got heated.” He pulls the chair out and sits to take off his shoes. “Look, just try to avoid Ginevra until the fiesta is over. It’s only a week. Whatever happened, it’ll blow over.”
He bends to the second lace. I still have the blouse in my hands.
I haven’t told him what happened. He’s already told me what to do.