.” She squeezed her hands gently. “Dear girl, do you not realize how unhappy I would be imagining you here in this apartment without any furniture? It would prey on my mind,” she assured her. “So it would please me if you accepted these gifts in the spirit in which they were intended and saved me that suffering.”
“I—You—” Ildaria stared at her helplessly, even more unsure how to respond, and then Marguerite glanced past her and smiled brightly.
“Oh, look. You have a dining room set too,” she said, releasing her hands and leaving the kitchen to examine the table and chairs. Running one hand over the glass surface of the table, she grinned and said, “Julius will be relieved. I was considering renovating the dining room and giving you that furniture as well, but now I will not bother.”
“Marguerite!” Ildaria gasped and then shook her head. “This is too much.”
“It is used furniture, Ildaria,” Marguerite said gently. “An excuse for me to get new things for myself. Although, I admit I really wanted to buy you new furniture for your new apartment, but Julius was positive you would not accept new furniture and in the end I agreed he was probably right.”
“He was right. I wouldn’t have accepted new furniture,” Ildaria assured her grimly.
“But you will accept this, will you not?” she said now. “Aside from my concern for G.G., you cannot make the men carry it all back down. Besides, it will ease my mind to know that you are not sleeping in a sleeping bag, or sitting on the floor while taking your leisure.” Expression becoming sad, she added, “It really would cause me a great deal of distress to both lose G.G. and to imagine you in an empty apartment, and right now I am trying to avoid stress. I am with child, you know.”
“I know,” Ildaria said with a frown, and then blinked and asked with disbelief, “Marguerite Argeneau, are you trying to guilt me into accepting this furniture?”
“Not at all,” Marguerite assured her, and then gave a sniff and added, “Really, Ildaria, you have to get over the idea that everything is about you. This is about me. I am merely explaining the consequences of your actions should you refuse this gift I wish to give you,” she said with a shrug. “You do not want me to lose my baby, do you?”
Ildaria stared at her blankly, feeling guilty at the suggestion that she was being selfish and threatening Marguerite’s unborn child. None of that was true, of course. Was it?
“Give it up, Ildaria,” Julius said, reentering the apartment carrying a mattress as if it weighed no more than a sheet of paper. Passing through the living room, headed for the short hall to the bedrooms, he added, “You cannot win in an argument with my wife. I know this from experience.”
Ildaria let out a slow breath, her gaze sliding distractedly to G.G. as he entered the apartment, carrying part of her bed frame from her room at Marguerite’s. When he beamed at her, she smiled weakly back, and watched until he disappeared down the hall before turning back to Marguerite. She opened her mouth and then closed it as she struggled with herself, but finally she gave in and simply said, “Thank you.”
Marguerite beamed at her. “There! See? That was not so hard, was it?”
Marguerite turned and walked back into the kitchen then, leaving Ildaria standing alone between the dining room table and her no longer empty living room. In that moment, it occurred to her that this apartment was like her life. She’d lived more than a century without anyone in her life. It had been as empty as this apartment had been when she’d led Sofia in two hours ago. But then she’d met Vasco and Cristo, and Jess and Raff . . . Now her life was filling with people, just as her apartment was filling with furniture. The problem was, she was more comfortable with the open, empty space. While the couch and bed offered more comfort than the floor, they could break, become damaged or have to be removed. They also presented opportunities to stub her toes and trip over things.
Letting people in meant giving them the opportunity to hurt you. It was a lesson Ildaria had learned young and she had learned it well. She had always thought of herself as fearless