Fruit of the Golden Vine Page 10

  “It’s spectacular,” said Sebastian, his voice warm. “What is it, a crow?”

  “A large black raven.”

  “It’s beautiful. I’ll put it on my wall beside your wonderful horse.” Sebastian beamed, his teeth shining behind his beard, and Silvana scratched her head. As far as she was any judge, he was entirely sincere in his praise of the uninspiring bird. How curious people were.

  Felise giggled. “Truly?” She lifted the picture higher. “It squawked before it flew away. Tomorrow, I’m going to look out my window to see if it’s come back.”

  “And what will you draw next?” said Irena.

  “I would like to draw a puppy.” Felise peeked over the top of the page. “Father, may I have a puppy?”

  Sebastian cleared his throat. “We’ll talk about that later, Lise. For now, we’re all in admiration of your gorgeous bird.”

  Felise’s lower lip trembled. “Ira and Ada played with puppies today. May I play with one tomorrow?”

  “We’ll see, girl, we’ll see.” Sebastian stood and applauded. “Come, let’s have her know how wonderfully she’s drawn.”

  The room joined in the adulation, and Felise grinned, her little body inflated with pride. “Yes, it’s a good large black raven,” she said. She curled the drawing under her arm. “Ada, will you read us a poem now?”

  “Yes, I will.” Adelina stood and took a piece of paper from her bodice. Even at a distance, the trembling of her hands was evident. “I’ve written this poem on a divine theme, as Mother keeps nagging me to.”

  Several members of the audience chuckled—Sebastian, Rafael and the hulking Orfeo—while Irena covered her lips, not quite concealing a smile. Delfina remained stony.

  “It’s a spiritual poem, so it speaks a great deal of personal feelings. It describes a relationship between a faithful soul and the Creator.” Adelina glanced at Silvana before lowering her eyes to the page.

  “O, transport me to paradise, to feel thy touch divine;

  I give myself in sacrifice, forever to be thine.

  O, set my soul on rapture’s course, in heavenly pursuit,

  Show to me love’s sacred source that I may taste its fruit.

  O, lift me up to trembling height, envelop me with bliss,

  Transfix me with my heart’s delight, grant me your holy kiss.

  O, transport me to paradise, to dwell within your grace,

  I give myself in sacrifice to be in your embrace.”

  As the final verse left her lips, Adelina kept her gaze on Silvana, who shivered as if touched by a cold but gentle hand. “That was my poem,” Adelina said. “It speaks of a love beyond all loves, a rapture beyond all raptures, a passion beyond all passions, an intoxicating surrender to the sublime that few of us will ever be lucky enough to know. I pray night and day that I will know that it too.”

  The room applauded, Sebastian leading the enthusiasm. Delfina, however, turned to Silvana, and for a moment it seemed as if her eyes were stripping Silvana’s soul bare, searching for the thing she most feared.

  Chapter Eleven

  “To bed, girls,” said Delfina. “I shall likely rest long tomorrow. The day has left me weary.”

  Sebastian took her hand and kissed it. “Sleep well, my dear. Thank you again for the gift of three such talented beauties.” He walked to each of his daughters in turn, kissing their cheeks. “Ira, Ada, Lise, our gratitude for an evening of such marvels.” He ruffled Felise’s hair, and she wriggled while laughing.

  “Yes, yes. Goodnight.” Delfina grasped Felise’s chubby fingers. “Come, Felise, and I shall tuck you in. Irena, Adelina, don’t dawdle long.” She strode from the room, pulling the grumbling Felise in her wake.

  Sebastian winked at Irena. “I do believe my friends and I might retire to a game of cards. Orfeo will cheat me, as usual.”

  “Cheat you?” Orfeo raised his reddish eyebrows. “What do you take me for?”

  Chuckling, Sebastian ushered Orfeo and the still-unannounced twitchy guest into the corridor. He paused in the doorway and grinned at Silvana. “Make sure that brother of yours doesn’t act inappropriately in the presence of my daughters, won’t you?”

  “Act inappropriately?” Rafael executed a perfect imitation of Orfeo’s mock surprise. “What do you take me for?”

  Sebastian laughed. “Ah, ever the rascal.” The door shut softly behind him. No doubt the affectionate old spider was allowing his daughter the exciting chance to bid her suitor goodnight—in the respectable presence of two other women, of course. His seemed a peculiar mind, a mixture of guile and sentimentality.

  Rafael stood and took Irena’s hand. “That was an angelic performance, dear Ira. You stirred my soul.”

  “Oh, it wasn’t my best.” Irena flushed. “But I’m so glad that you liked it.”

  “I will dream of it.” Rafael kissed Irena’s knuckles. “And of the too-distant morning, when we shall see each other again.”

  Adelina groaned, and Silvana managed not to laugh. “Goodnight to you too, Ada,” Rafael said. “Rest well. Silvie, shall we retire?”

  “I suppose so.” Silvana glanced at the ornate grandfather clock that swung its heavy pendulum beside the window. Ten of the clock. “Goodnight, beauties. You have given us enchanting song and enthralling verse.”

  “Goodnight,” said the sisters, and giggled at their identical timing.

  Silvana inspected Adelina’s composed face. If there was some suggestive farewell hidden there, she was unable to decipher it. “Rafael, come along. You’ve held Irena’s hand long enough.”

  Rafael chuckled. “Thank God for chaperones.” He patted Irena’s hand before releasing it. “Slumber, here I come.”

  Silvana and Rafael left the drawing room, crossed the moonlit lobby and ascended to the second floor. As they walked toward the end of the corridor and neared the window admitting silver light at its far end, Rafael remained silent, his eyes set on some distant thought.

  “Usually by this point, you’d have made fun of the harpsichord playing,” said Silvana.

  “But she can actually play. Sing too. And she’s really very pretty.”

  Silvana stood, arms folded, before the doorway to her room. “I’d say so.”

  “She seems caring as well. You should have seen her terror when Ada ran off this morning.”

  “Many of the women you’ve courted have been pretty and caring, Rafael, and you laughed at them all behind their backs. In any case, it seems unwise for you to become too sentimental toward her. She’ll despise you once she realizes your deceit.”

  “That’s true, but…” Rafael scratched the back of his neck, his eyes averted. “Perhaps I’m affected by your own words earlier. You looked so passionate as you spoke of Adelina.”

  “But you still want me to leave her alone?”

  “Yes, I do. For my part, I understand that Ira will hate me if our plan comes to fruition, but I can’t deny that seeing her tonight lightened my heart. She has talent, gentleness and grace. I’d expected a wife who did nothing but stare at me and blush.”

  A shadow shifted upon the silhouette of a distant branch, which obscured the gibbous moon with its crooked lines. An owl, perhaps.

  “Imagine if we had come here for love, not wealth, and in honesty, not deception,” Silvana said. “How different things might feel. How happy we might be.”

  “Truth be told, it’s hard to picture you in love.”

  “This girl faced her family and read me a poem about orgasm, all while pretending as if it were some flight of divine mysticism, and she got away with it. How can I not be in love with a woman who combines her innocence with such daring?”

  Rafael sighed. “I’ll return to arguing with you tomorrow. At present, I’m exhausted. Goodnight.”

  “Goodnight.”

  After Rafael had closed the door of his bedroom, Silvana waited for a time by the window, wondering at the workings of the night. The vineyard had taken on a sinister aspect beneath the moon, a gathering of c
rooked and broken devils all praying to an immense altar that rose above them—or, as it was called by daylight, the winery. How could the world beyond this window, evoked in black and haunting white, not be sympathetic toward her plight? It was beautiful yet melancholy, just as was her love for Adelina.

  Silvana opened the door to her bedroom. A letter lay on her pillow. She had expected to see it, yet the sight still set her pulse quickening. She closed the door and swept the note into her hands.

  Meet me in the garden at midnight.

  I love you. Adelina.

  (Forgive the shortness of this letter. I exhausted myself with tonight’s poem.)

  The timepiece above the door indicated that the time had moved little, it being still only ten thirty of the clock. Silvana lit the lantern beside her bed, adding some warmth to the moonlit glow, and sat at the foot of her bed. How to idle away the time?

  Reminiscing, perhaps…

  When Silvana had been a little girl, an old woman—some spiritual matriarch—had often dragged her off to the woods and forced her to sit on a stump with her eyes closed. Time had crawled on those wretched stumps with nothing but the crone’s religious babbling for company. Old roots wend deep. The great flame purifies. The blood will call. They’d forced her into curious robes and headpieces, given her sticks to hold and drawn on her face in ash. Silvana wandered amid the memories, reliving each one. God above and Goddess within.

  Silvana touched her chest. Goddess within. It was about the only thing worth keeping from that litany of nonsense. She checked the clock again. Eleven. Had she really been musing that long? She focused on her breathing, as the old woman had taught her, and let time pass without her.

  Finally the clock’s hands arrived at five to midnight. Silvana moved as silently as she could through the hallways, crept into the lobby and tried the handle of the front door. It was unlocked, which suggested that Adelina had already passed by.

  The moon guided Silvana down the garden path and through the swinging gates. A dense droning hovered about her, the muttering of sleepless insects, and an owl cried somewhere above. The fountain continued its musical pattering, an appropriately ethereal accompaniment as she strolled between trees dipped in lunar tones.

  As she’d anticipated, Adelina sat beneath the tree that they’d stopped by the morning before. Had it really been only a day since?

  “Silvana.” Adelina raised her face, and starlight illuminated her rounded features. “As you wished, only the moon is here as our witness.”

  “Adelina.” Silvana moved close to Adelina and took both of her hands. Her fingers were warm despite the touch of chill in the night. “Your poem was exquisite.”

  Adelina stood, still holding Silvana’s hands. “A breath shared between like souls, my love.”

  Silvana smiled as she gazed into Adelina’s luminous eyes. “You have a knack for this. One would think you’d spent your entire life studying the arts of romance.”

  “When I set my mind to something, not even God can stand in my way.” Adelina freed a hand and held it to Silvana’s decorated cheek. “I want our hearts to be as one.”

  A gentle warmth moved through Silvana’s body. She clutched Adelina’s hand and kissed its palm. Adelina reddened, and her shoulders began to rise more quickly with her hurrying breath.

  “Though I adore your romantic mode, Adelina, I’ve also become fond of the more plainly-spoken Ada. May I speak with her too?”

  Adelina laughed. “Of course you can. I’m enjoying myself, that’s all.”

  “I can’t believe how audacious you were with that poem. Your mother gave me the oddest look afterwards.”

  “Did she?” Adelina bit her lower lip. “Well, she can hardly prove anything. It was a very religious poem, after all.”

  “Yes, quite pious.” It was odd—Adelina was a delight to look upon, womanhood wrapped in moonlight, yet Silvana felt an apprehensive thrill rather than an urgent lust. She wanted to savor what was growing between them, to allow it to ripen on the vine, so that the taste of it would be all the sweeter. “Return to seducing me with your honeyed tongue. You must have brought me here for a romantic reason.”

  “Indeed I did.” Adelina took a package from her bodice and unwrapped it. “I’ve a gift for you.” Two silver rings gleamed in her hand. She raised one to catch the light. Its signet bore a silver tree threaded with small sapphires. “You came to me from the wilds, a dryad of arboreal beauty. My heart gave way to the passion in your eyes and the sensuality in your voice. Wear this symbol of nature and kiss it each morning, thinking of me.”

  Silvana extended her index finger, and Adelina slid the ring into place. She lifted the second ring to the moonlight. “And for me…”

  “Let me.” Silvana took the second ring and inspected it. A silver star with glittering blue points. Silvana looked into Adelina’s eyes, more beautiful still than the sapphires, and touched her fingers to Adelina’s cheek.

  “Like a star fallen from the firmament, you are as pure as you are fervent, a mystery not of this world. You have cast your celestial light upon me, Adelina, and at its touch my soul is laid bare.” Silvana guided the ring onto Adelina’s waiting finger. “Wear this empyrean symbol and kiss it each morning, thinking of me.”

  With a trembling hand, Adelina cupped Silvana’s cheek. “You are the daughter of earth, I the daughter of heaven, and like heaven and earth, we were meant to kiss.”

  She leaned forward, her eyes closing as her mouth opened. Their lips met. Silvana returned the kiss, pulling Adelina closer. Their tongues grazed together, and Silvana’s thoughts scattered. Nothing mattered now but their heated, tender union and the turmoil of her soul.

  As their lips separated, Silvana inhaled what felt like her life’s first breath. She stroked her fingertip along the curve of Adelina’s neck. “That was a surprise. I fully expected that I would be the one to kiss you.”

  Adelina giggled. Her cheeks burned, and a wild light danced behind her lashes. “I suppose you thought that I’d never kissed anyone before.”

  “As a matter of fact, I did. That was no first-time kiss. Where did you…”

  “Ira’s best friend. She stays each spring for about a week. We don’t much like each other, as far as being friends goes. She’s two years my elder and tremendously snobbish.” Adelina ran her tongue across her lips. “But she certainly likes kissing me. Every time we have the chance, we hide in the gardens and kiss for as long as we dare. We caress each other, too, but we don’t dare do anything more.”

  The surprises never ended. “And that’s all you’ve done? Kissing?”

  “That’s all. Well, I loosened her bodice once and touched her breast.” Adelina blushed. “And then the gardener came shuffling along, and I had to pretend like a spider had crawled down her dress and we were chasing it out. He was mortified. He’s about three hundred years old.”

  “So you’re still a virgin.” Silvana lowered her eyes to Adelina’s concealed bosom. All this talk of loosened bodices was turning her mind in a lewd direction. “Untutored in the art of pleasuring a woman.”

  “Maybe so, but I’m a very quick student, Silvana. Everyone says so.”

  Conscious of the lust kindling within her, Silvana took a deep, careful breath. Time to end their romantic night before she broke its spell. “I think we ought retire and dream of one another. I’ll wear this ring always, and between each heartbeat I shall long for the company of the woman who wears its counterpart.”

  “Oh, that’s not bad. I wish I’d said that.”

  Silvana laughed and, with her fingertip, traced the soft contours of Adelina’s lips. “Goodnight, Ada, my love.”

  Adelina kissed the roaming fingertip. “I anticipate a long, restless night. I’ll occupy it with thoughts of you.”

  “Just remember, a chaste thought is a thought wasted.”

  “There’ll be nothing chaste in my mind tonight, I can assure you.” Adelina gestured in farewell. “Off you go, then, you temptress. Leave
me to smolder.”

  Silvana bowed, turned and retraced her path through the garden. Walking beneath a procession of thin branches, she peered up at the moon, which presided in judgment over the sleeping world. It seemed to her as if it looked back in complicity, and she knew that fortune was with them.

  Chapter Twelve

  With oiled silence, the door to Adelina and Irena’s bedroom opened. Adelina took several stealthy steps into the room. “Ada?” Irena was awake, wide-eyed and upright, and Adelina’s stomach twisted. “Where did you go?”

  “I just went to the privy.”

  “But you’ve been gone forever. And you’re shaking!” Irena beckoned, and Adelina trudged across the carpet to stand beside Irena’s bed. “You’re fluttering like a leaf in the breeze. I don’t believe you went to the privy at all.”

  “Privies can be frightening things.”

  Irena patted the bed. Adelina sat, smoothing her skirts. “Where did you go? Tell me truly, Ada, for I saw you leave. I was lying in bed, not able to sleep for thinking about…well, for thinking, and I saw you creep out the door. Nobody creeps to the privy.”

  “Do you promise not to tell anyone?”

  “Not a soul.” A sudden smile illuminated Irena’s face. “It’ll be a secret between sisters.”

  “I went to give Silvana her gift.”

  “In the middle of the night? So you went to her room?”

  “No, Ira. I met her in the gardens.”

  “The gardens! No wonder your hand is so cool. But why the gardens?”

  Adelina took an unsteady breath that hardly seemed to reach her lungs. There was nothing to tell now but the truth. “Because we’re courting. Just like you and Rafael, but we’re doing it in secret. And it’s beautiful and romantic, and I’ve never been so happy in my life.”

  Crimson spread across Irena’s face. “Courting?”

  “It’s almost like I’m two women. There’s me now, breathless and trembling, and there’s some other Adelina who steps forward when I need her, the one who speaks the poetry I keep locked in my heart. With my words alone, I’ve gotten Silvana to fall in love with me, and she’s promised to wear my ring.” Adelina held out her hand. “Look, this one has a star. Hers has a tree.”