The Ornaments of Love

Chapter Seventeen

"Did your eyes reveal anything to your liking?" she asked slyly, the dessert wine falling deliciously down her throat, all but burning through her limbs.

The library was colossal, as most of the rooms in this house were prone to be. The dark, coffered ceiling and richly paneled walls brought about a delightful resonance to the Marquesa's words, her voice sounding splendidly rich to her ears. Joaquim found that he liked this woman's company even more in his private office, regardless of the dispute about its territorial claims.

Books and papers lay mismatched all around the huge desk near the center of the room, though they appeared to have benefited from some sort of personal order, which Dídac had not yet managed to sufficiently explain to his father.

Joaquim had shown the Marquesa to the sitting area between the desk and the huge marble fireplace, which rose to the ceiling like an Egyptian needle pointing to Ra. Candles were lit in an assortment of heavy iron candelabra scattered about the room in convenient places, and the fire hissed quietly, casting comforting shadows on the walls that competed for her attention with the steady glow of the bright little flames.

"I don't know what I saw this evening, my lady," he lied. "I know only that I was fed an interesting idea I wish to explore further and, perhaps, understand. You say the absorbed look upon my son's face should infer some manner of feeling I should take into greater acknowledgement?"

She laughed outright this time. "But it is always wonderful to hear your voice when you speak of your son as if he were one of the livestock on a neighboring field. It's too sensational! But no, don't look to me with that defeated look, I will appreciate you all the more for it. No, Joaquim, please don't look at me with that frustration. Oh, it's too rich!" She laughed on, pulling her hand up to her chest to stop herself from being thrown too far into exaltation.

"You mock me?" Joaquim smiled now. Joaquim was made uneasy by her display, though he was not particularly conscious of it. He felt he appreciated her all the more for being so affectionate in her demeanor. He was feeling all the time that he had a great capacity to love this woman. Her perfect, wideset eyes of crystal blue always seemed to bring him home from his daydream, enlivening him again and again.

"No, no dear, I do not. And yes, there is much you should read into that feverish look that your son wears so handsomely on his face. It seems there is much that is good about it; good for your purposes, as well as mine."

"But how is this so, Marquesa? How is it that you are so sure of the nature of the boy's gaze when my wife has not even mentioned the slightest change in him?"

"The answer lies in a natural need your son hides in plain sight, not to mention that Francesca cannot understand how such a need would ever come to find its solution so easily. Mind you, she cannot be held at fault for not perceiving her son's infatuation. After all, he goes about it as a gentleman, revealing nothing of his passions that might offend her. Nevertheless, if she were still not to have become fully aware of his situation by the end of the week, I am sure you would both find the child going out of his way to leave every blunt clue about the woman short of a lurid drawing."

Joaquim was the one to laugh out loud this time. He sat back in the chair across from her and enjoyed the idea of his son in such a desperate situation. It was hilarious.

"So, there is no question in your mind then, the two are more than fond of each other?"

"Again, Don Joaquim, the sherry is causing me to divulge secrets that I will no doubt suffer the wrath of a fifteen-year-old girl for. In any event, the secrets are most certainly true."

"And does this intention on the part of my son please you?" he asked seriously.

"Your son's intentions are the source of a great deal of joy on the part of my niece, señor, and as such, they please me very much." Marcelina shot him another of her stunning smiles and drew the glass to her mouth to taste the liqueur once more. It was warm and sweet and delicious, and she felt alive with it and with the satisfaction of her victory this evening.