He nods slowly, as if pondering my words.
"Go to the study and I'll meet you there in a few minutes. It's the second door on the right." I don't even have time to reply before he closes the door. At least he didn't say no... right?
I find the study, and I take a seat. True to his word, Marcello appears a couple of minutes later. He takes a seat across from me.
"So? What did you want to talk about?" The intense way he's looking at me is almost enough to make me squirm in my seat.
"My daughter, Claudia. I wanted to talk about her." I blurt out. I need to be smart about this and make him take me seriously. It doesn't help that he's so good looking, especially dressed like that. I wonder how his hair feels... would it be soft if I ran my hands through it?
Marcello clears his throat and my cheeks turn red.
Shit... was I staring? I hope I wasn't staring too much!
I straighten my spine and continue. "She will need a teacher. There was a grammar school at Sacre Coeur, but it was more like Bible study. I'm afraid she's already missed a lot in terms of a more traditional education."
"I see. You have no reason to worry on that account." Marcello responds. "I've been trying to find a governess for Venezia too, since she is a little behind on her schooling as well." He grimaces slightly. "If you'd like, we can interview potential governesses together, and decide on the best for the both of them."
"Really?" My tone is perhaps too enthusiastic, and I notice I unconsciously bend forward. I try to lean back a little before continuing. "That would be great, thank you. I want to make sure she gets the best education, but also in a safe environment."
"I agree." He gives a brisk nod.
"I also want to find a therapist for her. The sooner, the better. I wouldn't like for what happened to her to scar her."
Marcello tilts his head as he regards me.
"How bad was it?" He suddenly asks.
"What do you mean?" I frown at his question.
"What exactly happened with Father Guerra? Did he..." From the corner of my eye, I notice him clenching his fist.
"It didn't go too far, thankfully. When I came across them, he had his hands up her skirt." I shudder, remembering the events of that night. "But he could have... Lord, he could have done so much worse..." I take a deep breath, trying to compose myself. Just the thought of that man doing something to my baby girl...
"You did well, Catalina. You did very well." He praises me, even though what I'd done had been murder.
"I killed him..." I whisper, and close my eyes shut, trying to block the memory of the spilled blood.
"He deserved it. He was a vile human being, and you protected your daughter. What you did was very brave." He adds, and I look up to see his expression. His eyes are almost warm.
"He wanted to kill me." I confess. Would I have killed him if he hadn't attacked me? Maybe...
"Stop blaming yourself. It's over."
"It's not... I keep remembering..." I shake my head.
Marcello stands up and starts pacing around the room.
"The first time is certainly the worst."
I whip my head around to regard him. Does he mean...?
"You've killed someone before?" I dare to ask.
He gives a dry laugh.
"Someone..." He muses before chuckling again. "Yes. I've killed someone." He pauses before saying. "I've killed many someone."
I'm stunned at his admission, more so because I thought that maybe he was different. I know that my family was... is involved in that type of shady business. But considering what I'd heard from Sisi about him, I thought he might be different.
With one last look, he turns to leave.
"Wait." I call out.
I'm not finished. Why is he always so ready to ignore me? Am I so contemptible?
"I'll have Amelia compile a list of therapists – female therapists. She'll bring it to you. If that's all..." He turns once more and opens the door to leave, and if I wasn't so anxious I might have rolled my eyes.
"There's something else."
He pauses, closes the door and leans against it.
"I'm listening."
"What am I supposed to do?"
Marcello frowns at me. "What do you mean?"
I bring my hands in my lap and I start fidgeting. Marcello doesn't exactly make it easy for me to talk to him.
"What should I do all day? I mean..." I trail off, trying to find the right words. "Venezia and Claudia will have their lessons, but what about me? Is there anything I can do around the house?"
"No. There's not." He replies.
"Then?"
"What do you want to do?" He asks me and I still. What do I want to do? I have no clue.
"I don't know." I answer honestly. "At the convent, I did my share of chores and that was that."
"Then let me ask you differently. What do you like?" His eyes glint in the dimly lit room, and I find myself lost in them.
You.
I quickly shake myself when I realize my train of thought. Surely not... no, of course not. That was just a rogue thought.
"Me?" He asks, his tone half-amused and half in wonder.
Damnation!
Did I say that out loud?
My eyes go wide at the realization.
I fake cough. "What do you like, is what I meant." I internally cringe.
"That's not what I asked." He raises an eyebrow at me challengingly.
"Well, I don't know what I like." I shrug, trying to immerse myself in this subject and forget my earlier blunder.
Lord, I bet my cheeks must be flaming still.
Focus!
"There wasn't much I could do at Sacre Coeur, I'm sure you realize that."
"What about before?"
Before? That's a strange thought... Can I even remember what I was like before?
I shrug again. "I used to sew sometimes."
"And you couldn't continue at Sacre Coeur?"
"I mended a few of our clothes, nothing creative. I didn't have the materials..."
"That solves it then." Marcello says, sounding almost eager to get rid of me. "Start sewing again." He brings his hand up to check his watch. "Goodnight then."
This time he actually leaves.
What?
When I reach my room, I'm still stunned by Marcello's sudden departure. I don't think he enjoys being in my presence. It's a sobering thought, really. With a sigh, I take off my dress and go to the bathroom to take a shower. I see that there are already a few sets of clean towels laid out for me, so I take a couple with me. In the bathroom, I keep eyeing the bathtub, and after a long deliberation, I decide to opt for a warm bath. Maybe it will help me relax... clear my head.
I drop my towel and head to the wall-length mirror on the other side of the bathroom. I try to look at myself as someone else would. As Marcello would. What does he see that disgusts him so much? I'm not ugly, that I know. And yet, every time I see Marcello making a conscious effort to avoid looking at me, that's exactly how I feel. I guess I'm not much to look at either. My pale skin is riddled with a myriad of freckles. The only notable feature I have is the color of my eyes – a bright green that Claudia inherited too.