And somewhere now behind yet another closed door, Catrina was pleading with him: “Carlo, Carlo.”
Beppo appeared at the head of the stairs, and behind him the tall figure of Alessandro.
Alessandro dropped his arm about Tonio’s shoulder. They moved swiftly and silently to Tonio’s room.
Catrina’s voice swelled behind the wall just for a moment: “You are home, don’t you see, you are home and young yet and everywhere around you there is life….”
And that lower, incomprehensible rumble of anger interrupting her.
Alessandro removed his dark blue cape as the door shut. He was speckled with rain, and his large dreamy eyes were shadowed with concern.
“So he is here, already,” he whispered.
“Alessandro, you must stay on, I need you,” Tonio said. “I need you for four years under this roof. I need you until I marry Francesca Lisani. It’s all laid down in my father’s will, in his instructions to the guardians of the estate. But for four years, Alessandro, I must prevail against him.”
Alessandro pressed his finger to Tonio’s lips as if he were the angel making the final seal at the moment of creation.
“It’s not you who must prevail, Tonio. It’s your father’s will and those who must execute it. Is he disinherited?”
His voice dropped on this last word. This would have been a terrible thing, accomplished only if Carlo had ever laid hands on his father with the intent to harm him. That had never happened.
“The estate’s undivided,” Tonio murmured. “But my father’s instructions are clear. I am to marry. The bulk of the assets are for my education, training, and all the demands of my life as a statesman. Carlo is allowed a pittance, and advised to devote himself to the welfare of my children…”
Alessandro nodded. It was no surprise to him.
“Alessandro, he is outraged! He demands to know why he must abide by this. He is the eldest son….”
“Tonio, that means nothing in Venice,” Alessandro reminded him. “You have been chosen to marry by your father. You must not be frightened by all of this. It is not in your hands, it is in the hands of the law and your guardians.”
“Alessandro, he demands to know why the fate of this house must wait upon a boy….”
“Tonio, Tonio,” Alessandro whispered. “You couldn’t yield to him if you wished. Put your mind at rest. And for whatever good it will do, I am here to stay with you.”
Tonio sucked in his breath. He was staring off as if these assurances hadn’t penetrated. “Alessandro, if I could only despise him…” he started.
Alessandro had his head to one side, and his face had a look of limitless patience.
“But he does not seem…he is so…”
“It’s out of your hands,” Alessandro said softly.
“What did you know of him?” Tonio pressed. “Surely you knew of him?”
“Of him, yes,” Alessandro said, and without realizing it, he moved to wipe a strand of hair from Tonio’s forehead. His hand rested on Tonio’s shoulder. “But only what everyone knew. He was an impetuous young man. And there was death in this house, his mother’s death, the death of his brothers. There is little more that I can tell you.”
“Catrina does not despise him,” Tonio whispered. “She is sorry for him!”
“Ah, Tonio, she is sorry for him but she is your guardian and she will stand by you. When you come to understand that you are powerless in this, you will have peace.”
“But Alessandro, tell me. The woman he refused. Years ago, when my father wanted to arrange a marriage…”
“I know nothing of all that,” Alessandro said with a little shake of the head.
“But he refused a bride whom my father had chosen for him. He ran off with some convent girl, but the bride he refused. Alessandro, was it my mother?”
Alessandro had been on the verge of a denial when he paused, and for a moment seemed not to understand the question.
“If she was the girl Carlo refused, it will be unendurable for her here….”
Alessandro was silent for a moment. “She was not the girl he refused,” he answered softly.
Dark house, empty house, alien sounds.
He climbed the steps to the upper floor.
He knew Carlo was in the old room; he could see the uncommon daylight spilling out into the dusty passage.
That morning his brother had asked for him at table, sent his Turkish servants to invite him down, and he had sat alone in bed, his head in his hands, murmuring excuses to these alien faces.