Evening Star (Star Quartet 1)

“Our daughters are raised a little differently in Italy, child. Cametta emerged from the convent but three months ago. Her father and I arranged the match for her.”

A little differently? Certainly Giana had been well chaperoned at Madame Orlie’s, but a convent?

“We protect our daughters, Giana,” Luciana said, her lips drawn in a prim line. “Even your visit with your Uncle Daniele must be seen as a bit unusual.”

“You have no chaperon, Signorina Va

n Cleve?” Camilla asked.

“No, ma’am,” Giana said, “but I can hardly see that it matters. After all, Uncle Daniele has known me since I was a small child.” And he saw me strip naked in a brothel today.

Mirabella’s fingers worried over her tambor frame, and she said, without looking up, “The English are not as careful with their daughters as we are.”

Angela said softly, patting Giana’s hand, “Your Uncle Daniele is a fine gentleman. I believe that my husband has some dealings with his banks, but of course, I know little of it.”

“Ah,” Mirabella said, “the gentlemen.”

The gentlemen, Giana saw with some relief, were filing into the drawing room. Save for the lilting Italian, they could just as easily have been Englishmen. Signore Conde, their host, a tall, gaunt-featured man whose dark eyes seemed to dart everywhere. Signore Cavour, plump and good-natured, the fragile Angela’s husband. Signore Salvado, the gentleman who would sooner meet with monkeys than with her mother, a handsome man, though a little stocky, with a bushy black mustache and thick side whiskers. His dark eyes seemed to probe when they rested upon Giana. And Signore Palli, the superior Camilla’s heavy-jowled husband. She looked toward Uncle Daniele, distinguished in his severe black evening clothes. He met her eyes and arched his thick black brows in silent question. About what? Giana wondered. She suspected that the gentlemen had been drinking heavily, for their laughter was easy and their conversation loud.

She started at Signore Salvado’s husky voice. “My sweet child, Daniele tells me that your famous mother is now in charge of a railroad.”

Aurora would give him the brunt of her tongue, Giana thought, if she heard the sneering condescension in his voice. She said stiffly, “My mother, signore, is active in many areas.”

“Actually,” Daniele said, “Signora Van Cleve is working with a Mr. Cook, the idea being to provide cheap rail fares for people who could not otherwise afford such travel.”

Giana felt herself flushing. If Uncle Daniele had not been present, she would not have been able to say anything specific about her mother’s plans. She tried frantically to remember any scrap of conversation about it. She brightened, saying, “I believe it is a fine idea, signore. So few people can afford to visit the sea, for example.”

“The common people are like our dear ladies in one respect,” Signore Cavour said, laughing. “They must have our guidance and not forget what God intended them to be.”

Daniele cast a quick glance at Giana and said blandly, “And just what did God intend our ladies to be, gentlemen?”

“The delight of our lives,” Signore Cavour said, giving Angela a gentle smile.

Signore Conde, Mirabella’s husband, rolled his eyes, saying, “A drain on our purses.”

“And our patience.”

“Surely you are too harsh, Carlo,” Daniele said to Signore Salvado, Luciana’s husband.

Carlo smiled cryptically at his wife. “A wife is to be a loving creature, her aim to please her husband and bear his children.”

“I daresay that all of us would agree,” Luciana said, smiling toward the thin-lipped Carlo.

“What do you think, Giana?” Daniele asked.

“I believe that a lady should be protected and cherished by her husband, and respected for her gentleness and wisdom.”

“Wisdom? She sees a new ribbon, and so much for wisdom.”

“If a man sees a new cravat, Signore Palli, he is also considered to have lost his wisdom?”

“A young lady with a sharp tongue, signorina,” Signore Cavour laughed. “It is said that such a combination bodes ill for a happy union.”

“I am certain that Giana meant nothing by it,” Angela said, smiling.

Giana kept an uneasy silence, her eyes upon the toes of her white satin slippers. Why had she simply not kept her mouth shut, like the other ladies? She looked up and was taken aback to see Luciana and Mirabella regarding her with open disapproval. Camilla was gazing at her questioningly. Only Angela Cavour was still smiling. Giana tried to return her smile, but she saw Angela raise her soft eyes to her husband’s face, and quickly dropped her eyes to her toes. Had they not been even slightly angered by Signore Palli’s joke at their expense?

“Mirabella,” Daniele said easily, breaking the momentary silence, “a glass of your excellent sherry, if you please.”