Blogs

The Flight to Fanciful ~ Part 2 Pulling into Port

Lady Fandango stands at the rail and watches as the ship gets ever closer to the dock at Rocca Sorrentina. First, the island was a small dot on the horizon and then the landgrows bigger as she approaches. It was a swift and pleasant journey and she's happy to be arriving. She's visited here a few times in the past, but now that she's to become a resident, this trip is even more wonderful.

Lady Leena's agent, Silas Becker, wrote back to her in England and assured her that his meeting with Professore Stern went well. She's about to live in alovely two roomapartment in the Villa Vesuviana. Becker also let her know that many fine artisans and craftsman are on the island so anything she needs can be acquired there. She remembers the fine shops on her travels here and cannot wait to see what's new and different on the island.

Lady Aphrodite MacBain resides here and she can't wait to gossip and catch up with her old friend. She envisions many conversations with coffee and sweets, fresh baked by La Barista Aphrodite herself. Walks along the beach with the warm breezes and healing waters is just what Lady Leena needs to escape the coming winter in England. There was music on the island now, a new area where all could come together and listen in the open air, such a wonderfully mild climate here. Some tunnels underneath the island with relics, she was trying to recall from her past visits, with ancient ruins and history of their own. It would be good to explore and get her bearings once again.

Becker wrote that a meeting with Don Alphonso would be in order, he handles the financial affairs on the island,and that he was a very curious fellow. Perhaps just sending Becker down to deal with him would be more prudent. Speaking of Becker, Lady Leenascans the shore and looksfor her agent,hopinghe would be there to meet her as she disembarked.He happens to be near the dock and spies her on the ship andwaves to her.

Silas Becker bows and greets her warmly, "Good day my Lady, was it a pleasant journey? Everything isready, we can get you settled in without delay." Lady Leena smiles back at him, "Oh yes, the seas were fairly calm and I'm looking forward to my new adventures here. How are you fairing Becker? Your letter was happily received and you'vedone well getting things sorted out here for me."

"Thank you Lady Leena," Becker says.Smiling broadly he lifts his hand and points to the Villa on the hill, to my new home. Lady Fandango sighs happily and smiles back at him, eyes bright and happy, eager to begin her newchapter at Rocca Sorrentina.

Hugo heard something earlier in the day here in Rocca Sorrentina, something quite surprising and he needs to speak to Beatrice right away. Hugo finds Beatrice in her apartment, dusting of all things, and tries to settle himself before beginning. Things don't quite start off so well, as fatigue and suspicion have worn Hugo's temper a bit thin these days. Hugo barely gives Beatrice a chance to say hello before he begins asking her the question that he needs an answer to.

"Hello Beatrice, you look lovely dusting," and grins at her slyly. Beatrice offers Hugo a beaming smile while putting down her dust cloth and teases, "It brings out the best in me."

"Beatrice, I was at the cafe today and I heard some news ... about you," Hugo begins tentatively. Beatrice smiles sweetly and replies, "Oh? What did you hear? I hope it was good."

"Lady MacBain mentioned that you have a new position here on the island? With the Conte Foscari?" says Hugo as he can't help but look troubled. "Yes, I am very pleased. I will finally able to earn some money," Beatrice replies and seeing the pained look on Hugo's face nervously adds, "Are you concerned Hugo? Do you know something I don't?"

Hugo leans over and takes Beatrice hand, patting it carefully, "No, not at all Beatrice. I was merely surprised to hear it from Lady MacBain and not you is all." Squeezing her hand once again, "Honestly, there is nothing to fear," and murmurs to himself, 'I hope.'

"It has been a while since we have seen each other. But I do hear you in the middle of the night-pacing!" Beatrice exclaims, with her beautiful brown eyes widening. "I haven't seen much of you lately, now I know where you've been hiding," Hugo answers in a flat tone of voice.

Beatrice visibly bristles at the way Hugo is speaking to her, "I have not been hiding Hugo, just busy, the Conte Foscari has a lot of correspondence to write." Attempting to lighten the atmosphere Beatrice patiently asks, "Would you like something to drink? Coffee, tea, wine?"

Hugo says quietly, "I'm genuinely sorry if I've offended you Beatrice, I've just had some things on my mind is all. Have I still been keeping you up at night?"

"Not too much, but I AM aware you are preoccupied with something. I hope you feel comfortable sharing your concerns with me." Beatrice replies and watching Hugo carefully she adds, "We ARE old friends, aren't we?" As the two of them have been standing for the conversation up until then, Beatrice looks around her apartment and asks Hugo, "Where shall we sit my dear- on the sofa for now?"

Hugo starts to walk over to the sofa and waits for Beatrice to join him, "Of course we can sit, perhaps it is time I tell you what has been worrying me ...." Beatrice settles herself in front of a chair and sits down, "Please have a seat. There is some grappa to drink. I hope you enjoy it, the Conte gave me a bottle he brought from the south."

Hugo sits down on the sofa and holds the glass of grappa and takes a big sip before beginning. He looks over and sees Beatrice has gotten herself some coffee and she sips it quietly. He knows he must finally tell her what's been bothering him, but it won't be easy. With the grappa giving him some courage he takes a deep breath, "Alright dear Beatrice ..... I've been wrestling with some thoughts and suspicions of late. I haven't told you anything before because well, I honestly don't know the truth, yet."

Beatrice leans forward, patting Hugo's hand now. It was her turn to reassure him, "Ah, perhaps I can help." Beatrice says as Hugo looks at her and can't help but smile, she looked so pretty with her butterfly curls, primping a bit in the chair.

Hugo musters up his courage and finally comes out with it, "I think Mercury Gandt is a sbirri agent." Beatrice puts down her coffee and gasps, "But, why? I thought they were his enemies."

"Well, one of my last contacts in Venezia informed me that Gandt was seen entering and exiting the headquarters of the sbirri. He never even came to the ship to see us off! We left Venezia with his letter for us to come here to safety which was much appreciated but still," Hugo attempts to keep his temper in check, quietly seething with anger.

"I assumed he was detained," Beatrice stated a bit more calmly now, perhaps trying to soothe Hugo's temper. Hugo laughing and smugly states, "Perhaps, but he was detained by whom. I doubt it was in a brothel, he barely had enough money when we met." Beatrice carefully asks, "Have you spoken to anyone else about this?"

"No, most of my contacts in Venezia are long gone now .... I haven't been able to find out anything else about Gandt or his activities," Hugo looks down in defeat and answers her. Beatrice, looking as though she's mulling it around in her mind finally answers, "This is most perplexing. What would have changed his mind?" Hugo practically bursting with anger now, "Money, how else could he stay in Venezia so long. Unless someone else is paying his way?"

"Money? Well, I think he had a boatload of debts ... but he was so found of us ... um ... of all of us," Beatrice answers and runs her hair through her curls in perplexity. Hugo answers quietly, "I understand Beatrice, perhaps I am being too hasty but after so many sleepless nights thinking about this, but I am inclined to trust my instincts."

Beatrice makes a suggestion and asks, "Have you spoken with Professore Stern? I would think he would bring a level head to this entire situation." Hugo shakes his head, "No, I haven't .... I didn't want to intrude on our hosts since they seem to have a bit of a soft spot for him. I apologize if I've upset you and that was not my intention."

Beatrice rubs her forehead feeling a headache coming on and offers, "You MUST speak to someone about this Hugo, it isn't good for you to harbour such fears on your own. And what if it is true? Someone needs to be warned, like the Conte."

"I was going to write a letter to the Conte's servant, Valerio Saturnines, I've heard that Saturnines can perhaps 'get things done' but I wasn't going to tell the Conte about it." Hugo says and holds up his hand, "But I won't now, not with you working for him."

Beatrice asks "Why not speak to the Conte? I don't think it is wise to share information with his servant and not with him."

"What if the Conte and Don Aldo take offense by asking them?" Hugo answers. Beatrice asks a question and comments on Hugo's, "Why should they? They like Mercury but ... not to that extent."

"Perhaps, I feel out of the out of the loop here with no information," Hugo says angrily and pours the last of his grappa down his throat. Beatrice calmy speaks, "It is important we know if we are to have future dealings with Mercury Gandt. I have become aware that there is A LOT of activity going on here that you may not be first aware of. You are closer than you think to the centre of a lot of political activity that spreads beyond this little island."

Hugo Dieter asks "We are? On this paradise we are close to what?" Beatrice goes on, "Boats come here from many countries bordering the Meditarranean and beyond. It is a freeport as well so things are often done "unofficially." For instance, did you know that Aldo has been importing cannons?"

"I did hear that those 'guests' that followed us from Venezia to Sorrentina, the sbirri thugs, have left or escaped. Wait ... cannons you say?" Hugo frowns slightly mulling it over. Beatrice adds, "God knows what for..." letting her words hang in the air.

Hugo smiles and responds, "As a port there's no harm in having some defenses. I'm sure Don Aldo knows what he's doing. Unless, the sbirri ..... with the Conte here and Contessa Elena still missing ..... could he be preparing for something?"

Beatrice answers, "Hmmm, I suspect they are not for him. These are all speculations on my part but I think we are in thick of something that has to do with Austria. I shouldn't tell you this but the Conte is hoping I can serve him in the role of emissary to Austria! I know Vienna well and I speak the language."

"I offer you congratulations Beatrice, you will be a huge help to the Conte." Hugo says. Beatrice gazes affectionately at Hugo's fine profile and wishes he wasn't so worried, "Hmm I am not so sure about that ... but it will certainly be interesting," sighs deeply wondering what she has got into, frying pan to fire she thinks.

Hugo leans in closely to Beatrice, "Please don't discuss anything about Gandt to anyone, I wouldn't want the Conte to bear us any ill will. Especially you with your new job with him." Beatrice says "Of course I wouldn't! But I will ask him if he knows what has happened to Mercury. It will be interesting to hear what he has to say."

"I'm sure the Conte knows what he is doing, and you will do well but be safe above all things, please?" Hugo asks her gently. Beatrice smiles and nods, "Of course. I spend more time listening than talking." Hugo lifts his eyebrow and adds, "And yes, some SUBTLE inquiries to the Conte about Mercury might be helpful, I just would like to know what we are up against." Beatrice grins, "Very well, I will ask him as discretely as possible."

Hugo stands up and puts his now empty glass of grappa on the table. "I need to do something Beatrice, will you accompany me?" Beatrice nods and then they stroll off towards Hugo's rooms, just on the other side of the wall. He walks into his apartment and approaches his desk, sitting down in the chair while Beatrice sits down beside him.

As Hugo rummages through his immense piles of papers, Beatrice asks, "Will you write a letter?" Hugo shakes his head, "Not this evening my dear .... I want to destroy that letter I started to write to Valerio Saturnines about investigating Mercury, I don't want anyone to find it. I shall burn so there's nothing left to chance, and I think I shall be patient," Hugo pulls out the unfinished letter and walks over to the fireplace, tossing the letter into the flame and watches as the page curls while it burns.

Beatrice looks over watching the letter go up in flames and says to Hugo, "A wise decision I think. But I still feel you should talk to Professore Stern."

"Do you honestly think I should?" Hugo asks. Beatrice replies, "Yes, I honestly do! He is totally to be relied upon," and watches as Hugo brushes a lock of hair from his face in exasperation. Beatrice smells the smell of burning hopes and says, "I hope your suspicions are wrong. Let's hope so. Mercury, despite all his faults, is a good person I think."

Beatrice gives Hugo a gentle hug and smiling back at her Hugo says, "Thank you my dear Beatrice and I will think about meeting Don Aldo and asking him about Mercury Gandt, but for now I shall be patient."

"Hugo, don't leave it too long ... if he is a sbirri agwent, we should be aware of it," Beatrice says and releases him from the hug. Hugo responds, "I understand ..... please don't fret ... I will take care of it," and kisses Beatrice's hand, gently. After Hugo bows and wishes her well, Beatrice insists it's time for some rest, for both of them.

Beatrice smiles and curtsies, "Buona sera dear Hugo," wanders out the door and disappears into the night.

Weeks passed, and I spent my time enjoying the fine weather and beautiful landscape of La Rocca. My strength returned to me, little by little. Each day, I would arise with the sun, and take breakfast on the veranda of my rented rooms, overlooking the harbor. Afterwards, I took a daily morning walk on the commons.

I came to be re-introduced to many of my friends; and while I remained frustrated and anxious that no recollection returned to me of their faces, or of our past connections, I was grateful for their kind patience. No greater friend was found than Don Aldo, whose thoughtful attention to these awkward introductions gave me great comfort.

Each day, as the morning's shadows shrank back from the sun, I would make my way into the little cafe. The ocean breezes blew in and the tile walls were a cool relief from the midday's scorch. It seemed that most were of like mind, as I found myself amidst many of the residents and visitors at this time of day. All gathered about tables, drinking the rich strong brew served by the barista. The room buzzed with conversation about the weather, the latest news of the various courts, and (of course) of fashion. It was an affable group, at a time of much-needed rest.

On one such morning, I found myself seated about a table with the beautiful Duchesa Fiorentina and her delightful Moor servant and companion, Jean-Matisse, Lady Candace was particularly radiant in her gown in hues of the sunset, Signores Stern, Gandt and Dieter were finely dressed and gallant, and Lady Aph, ever the gracious and entertaining hostess were in attendance. There was also another gentleman to whom I was not introduced, but he relayed such wonderful details of a well-attended discussion on architecture that made me regret not having been there. Or, perhaps I was.

The constant reminder that my life's memories began on the day of my regaining consciousness was a source of anxiety for me. Little did I know that I did not have long to wait before a small breakthrough.

As was usual, the conversation was free-flowing and as apt to change direction as a small stream of water after a long day's rain. The discussion turned to horse-riding, and Lady Candace told of her horse, who was kept by dear friends in the French countryside. Upon further discussion I mentioned that I, too, had a horse back in England, whose name was Barrow. And upon the utterance, I immediately realized that there was no possibility of that information being given to me before being transported to La Rocca. That it was, indeed, a spur of the moment recollection. I was overjoyed!

Quickly and quietly, as the conversation ebbed and flowed, I called over my footman and dispatched him to advise the maids to pack up my things, and that I should like to return to England post haste.

While the bustle of packing my trunks was in full force, a messenger delivered a note to me, that should I be in France, His Serene Highness, Louis di Bourbon-Conti would like very much to have tea. We had re-connected, and he had offered his services in any way, to aid me in my quest to remember my past.

As I had full use of my father's most speedy ship, The Boccara, I changed the route with the crew, and we set sail for Marseilles. As the journey quickly progressed, I reviewed the notes I had taken while in La Rocca, memorizing the names of each friend and the stories and recollections they had relayed, in the hopes that I would find another spark to open the door even further. The effort netted me no results, but I was eager to see my friend and hear what he had to say.

We arrived at the port of Marseilles and some small trunks were loaded onto the coach for my next leg, to meet with Louis. The crew would sail from Marseilles to Bordeaux and I would get to them by stage coach, and then sail back to Portsmouth.

Soon enough, and after a stop at an Inn to regain a fresh appearance, we arrived at the gates of the chateau. I was escorted in by Louis and shown to his parlor, where tea and cakes were already set out. There was an easy comfort between us, and so without the usual pleasantries, I got right down to the matter at hand.

He inquired if I had made any progress, and I explained that while my health was nearly completely restored, my memory was not, though I did relay the matter of recalling my horse's name. It sounded so ridiculous spoken aloud, but he understood and went further, telling me that I had not liked my husband, and some various other details of my life, which others had politely swept aside when speaking with me. I so appreciated his forthright manner, and took in all of the information. He even stepped out a moment and returned with a stack of envelopes; invitations and letters written to him by me.

I suddenly felt quite overwhelmed; I wondered if I shall ever be able to repay the debt of those who have provided me with the clues that might aid me in reassembling my past.

We ended our afternoon with a short tour of his home, and I extended an open invitation to him, should he ever find himself on English soil, and far too soon, I found myself standing again at his gate, with the carriage door open for me. He kissed my hand, we waved to one another, and I left for an Inn at a mid-way point to rest before traveling again, to meet the ship.

My mind raced with all of the new enlightenment afforded me, and I strained to think of any little thing that might grant me the knowledge I sought. One would think that physical exertion would make us more weary, but oh, the taxing efforts of the mind are far more weighty. I believe I slept more on the short voyage from Bordeaux to Portsmouth than I spent awake.

Finally arriving at my estate, I left the footmen to see to the trunks and retired to my sitting room. I sat gazing at the fire for some time, happy to be on a more comfortable surface than the carriage interior, and then rose. I realized that the recollection of Barrow came at a time when I was not actively in pursuit of the memory, but once that glorious remembrance came to mind, I found that I was unable to relax my senses enough to perhaps urge another forward.

Instead, I sat at my desk, and wrote the names of those whom I would invite to the estate to stay. For dinner, a dance, some gambling... all of those would be diverting, and surrounded by my friends, I hoped that more pieces of the puzzle might be laid before me.

Mercury felt very satisfied when he reached the ship, docked in the Giudecca Canal. He had his papers, as promised from the Sbirri, and they had even given him another bag of coins to cover his expenses on the journey, which he thought was only fair. He was after all, technically working for them. This had proved very useful when he tried to dismiss his footman and found that he had to pay him, before he would leave. There was, however plenty left, so things were beginning to look hopeful once more.

Dawn was just breaking as he boarded the ship. He had expected to find Achille waiting for him, but saw only Devi staring wistfully across the water. As he approached her she stiffened and turned towards him.

Devi stared across the Giudecca canal and thought of Achille. How she wished he was here, but he had things to take care off and had given her the unpleasant job of escorting Sior Gandt safely to Ravenna, where he could begin his journey across the Papal states to Rome and with some luck be attacked by Bandits. How she disliked him! His arrogant smugness, his disrespectful familiarity, treating her like some scullery maid. How she longed to set him straight! But she had promised Achille that she would deliver him safely to Ravenna, and that is what she would do, although it would mean putting up with his repulsive presence for a while longer.

She heard someone behind her and turned to see Mercury walking towards her, his usual smug smile playing on his lips.

Good morning Sior Gandt Devi forces herself to say through gritted teeth.

Noticing her discomfort Mercury chuckles to himself and returns her greeting No Achille? I thought you two were joined at the hip.

I am to give you the following message, Sior Gandt. Achille had some business to complete and will join us later at Ravenna. He has asked me to give you this Devi hands Mercury a piece of paper. It gives you the address where you can find your next contact when you reach Rome.

Oh so its just you and me, traveling to Ravenna on this ship? How very pleasant. Mercury tries to pinch her cheek, she angrily brushes his hand away.

That should be plenty of time for you and I to get to know each other better Mercury continues with a grin. So where is Elena?

Somewhere quite safe from the likes of you

Mercury tries to grab her by the waist and Devi loses control and slaps him.

Don't touch me you barbarian!! You traitor!

The passion in your voice as you say that, makes me think you wouldn't mind.

Try that again and you will singing with the Castratti! Devi gets her stiletto out.

Okay, another time, when you are less exited Mercury steps away but still smiles.

You canal scum!

Give my warmest regards to your Mistress and tell her I shall never forget her betrayal.

What betrayal?

She lied to me when she said she was going to the convent to visit a friend, you silly girl.

She never betrayed you, used you a little perhaps, but it was necessary.

Oh off course Merury waves sarcastically.

I still think it would be far simpler to push you into the canal, but Achille has his orders. In my opinion they are all making a mistake placing their faith in you. I think you are a treacherous worm, but for some reason Don Aldo and the Conte are interested in you. God only knows why!

You are wrong, I am a fair gambler and I keep my word Mercury responds, his smile dissolving from his face.

Oh like when you sell those who have helped you to the Sbirri because of your hurt pride.

Mercury says nothing, knowing this to be true.

So Elena and I played a trick on you, how were we to know that you would be attacked? Elena is distraught about it.... Devi realizes that she has said too much and changes tact. But up till then she paid your passage on the ship from Sorrentina, then she housed and fed you while you found your way around Venice, and all you could think about was what was in it for you if you managed to seduce her, and don't try to deny it, I saw it in your eyes even if she didn't. I know your kind!

I don't deny anything says Mercury smiling once more

Being honest for once? Devi spits with contempt.

I am always honest. I never pretend to be better than I am. So...she thinks about me, huh? Mercury grins.

I never said that. Why would she?

Oh but you just did, a small hint.

I am sure she has forgotten all about you. She was just a bit concerned when she heard you had been attacked.

No I don' believe you, I can see it in your eyes, she thinks about me, Mercury grins She dreams of me....I still have hopes to seduce her....and now I shall go and have a nap. Don't forget to wake me when we arrive in Ravenna. Mercury strolls away laughing.

... I think I baroque a rib.

I was talking with a friend and working on one of those morph photos where you put an SL face in a RL picture, like the ones MarieLouise Harcourt does (but better.... WAY better)

So I found a photo....

Took a photo of Olivia, trying to keep the angle right, and got this....

I thought her face looked a little longer (I probably stretched it too much to make up for covering the original, then I screwed up the hair by the ear, and there was a smudge I couldn't blur enough, but all in all, not bad for a first effort. I shared it with my friend and he said that if her hair had a little black nose, buck teeth and beady eyes, it would look like she was wearing a beaver on her head ("but an elegant beaver").

So, being the very mature and serious woman that I am....

Thought I'd share the laugh!

Beatrice picks up her pen and gazes into middle distance as she tries to pull together the tangled threads of her memories of the past month.

It has been far too long since I have written, dear diary. So much has been happening here in Sorrentina and I can't quite keep up. First and very important - I have found a means of earning a living so I will be able to keep body and soul together and not have to pawn mama's necklace. (The moonstones are so magical; I think of her every time I look upon them!)

Beatrice looks up from her writing, eyes misting over as she remembers her mother's last days in a sterile Viennese hospital run by Carmelite nuns. She rubs the pale, luminous stones between her fingers, remembering her mother's last days. Lying on her bed, one hot day in June, the same month she was born, her mother reached under her starched white pillow and handed her a box containing the necklace. 'Moonstones,' she said, 'are supposed to protect the wearer from harm and danger in travelling by sea and land, to give mental inspiration, and to bring success and good fortune in love.'

Beatrice shook herself and returned to the present, with new resolve to continue her journal.

During the first week here I made an appointment with Lady Aphrodite Macbain to see whether I could earn some money working in her cafe. She kindly showed me around the kitchen, the vegetable garden and the cafe itself. Everything is kept in excellent order and I found a few Scottish mementos that reminded me of her origins and explained to me her drive for neatness..

She no longer needs help in the caffe with either serving or baking. A woman by the name of Hestia now serves coffee when Aphrodite is away, and the bakery next door provides all the bread and dolce she needs.

Lady Macbain said that she did need help in her garden - weeding, planting and harvesting. Although I haven't the least idea how to tend a garden, I can learn!

I therefore agreed to help out a few days a week - but the money I earn will never be enough to cover all my living expenses here.

But over the past few weeks, things have been turning out for the better! For example, Elisabetta will earn money doing sewing and embroidery work. (How thankful we are for the good training she received in the convent in Vienna and her experience as a seamstress in Venezia!) She has been talking with the count and is most impressed by him. (I do believe she has developed a crush - his urbanity and charm have had a strong effect on her!) They went for a walk one day, and while they were descending the steps of the villa, he promised he would advise certain of his clients in the Neopolitan and French courts about Elisabetta's skills in embroidery and fine stitchery. I am sure something good will come of it!

Elisabetta and Conte Foscari

I, too, had a very fruitful conversation with the Count Foscari last week. Screwing up my courage, I knocked on his office door and he graciously invited me in, showed me to a chair and offered a glass of grappa. I sat down, gratefully accepted the small crystal glass and looked around. He works in a spacious, elegantly furnished office in the Villa. Lining the walls are large bookcases, and some paintings that made me blush. I also noticed two excellent Persian carpets and finely designed French chairs. Truly an office of a worldly, urbane man in the prime of his life !

I thanked him for everything he has done for me and my sister and, after a few sips of grappa, took courage and asked him whether he might be interested in hiring me as his private secretary. I explained that I had a number of skills appropriate to the position, that I am well educated and multi-lingual, can write a fine letter, am very well organized, and an excellent bookkeeper. For good measure, I added that I know (intimately) many men in influential positions (due to my previous profession in Venezia) who might be of help to him. He smiled and said he was indeed in need of a secretary as he has an enormous amount of paper work that is beginning to overwhelm him. Then, he proceeded to a sk me many questions that I did my best to answer, keeping my own counsel on certain subjects.

He seemed especially interested in my interpersonal and language skills that would allow me to act as an ambassador for his commercial interests throughout Europe, dealing with certain clients operating within his many trading enterprises.

The Count asked me if I would be willing to travel to the French Court in Versailles, and as well as to Spain, Austria and even Russia to the Court of Catherine the Great! He said he would pay all my expenses--including my clothing if I had to visit to the French court on his behalf. I couldn't believe my ears but tried to sound as cool and composed as I could despite my rapidly beating heart .

He told me he trades with most of the Mediterranean countries and also with some of the colonies in the new world, basically moving goods from one place to another according to demand. For instance he plans to buy up a cargo of lemons from Spain to sell to the French court so that they can have lemonade in the summer! (We both laughed at that.) He also sells Italian wine to the French, silks from Constantinople and tea from the Colonies to the English,and cotton from Egypt which he sells to everyone! I began to understandwhy he would need someone who is fluent in many laguages.

A pparently his daughter Elena (the elusive Contessa!) normally does this work for him but he said she is unable to right now, is staying with very close friends of his and I may meet her very soon! I said nothing but smiled warmly and asked whether Elena was much like him. He shrugged and said there is much of her mother in her but sometimes she reminds him of himself when he was younger.

He also surprised me by asking about my impressions of Signor Gandt. I wasn't sure why he was asking me these questions--perhaps to get a sense of my abiility to judge people. He said my impressions of people can be very useful to him! I gave a very vague answer and told him that I have had a hard time getting to know Mercury and am not really sure what he wants or where his allegiances lie. The Conte seemed happy with that.

I told the Conte that our parents, feeling unhappy in Prussia, moved to Austria and brought my sister and me with them. They both died of the plague soon after, leaving us alone to fend for ourselves. We lived a hand to mouth life in Vienna, but using the rest of our savings my sister was able to study at a convent where she learned the gentle arts of sewing, embroidery and petit point.

At his point the Count leaned toweard me, a gleam in his eye. "So you know Vienna well?" he asked me. I nodded and said, evasively, that we both did what we could in order survive. He didn't push this further but I had a feeling that Vienna holds a great significance for him right now.

I then told him how my sister and I made our way across the high mountain passes to finally arrive in Venezia where I developed and perfected the arts of a courtesan while my sister sewed for a living. Again the Conte made a rather strange remark that I didn't challenge. "Your occupation in Venezia has given you a unique training, I am hoping to call upon these talents of yours in the understanding of human nature."

I nodded and smiled.

Apparently I am exactly what he needs..."someone who can get herself noticed when she wants and be invisible at other times"

He asked me if I would be his personal secretary, working four days a week for a more than generous salary. Of course, I accepted (perhaps with too much alacrity). He showed me to my desk opposite his and said that occasionally he might put up a screen between our two desks so that the person he is interviewing is less aware of my presence. I am beginning to realize that the Conte is trading in more than tea and cotton!

I turned to say goodbye but the Count was staring intensely out the window at the Egyptian obelisk and the great lawn of Sorrentina, his back toward me. I walked out of the room and softly closed the door.

Beatrice puts down her pen and stretches, thinking, "So, here I am in Sorrentina with employment as a secretary, as an ambassador and as a gardener! And the first thing tomorrow I have to write to Spain about lemons for France!" It feels nice to have released the facts and feelings stored in her memory into her fingers and on to the paper. She feels lighter now. It may be a long time before she has time to write in her diary again.

New journal entry - 25 August, 1773

From my cabin, I heard the commotion of the crew preparing to come into port. I made my way to the main deck, unsteadily, and as I emerged, and the air tousled my hair and sent my skirts into motion, I saw a view of heaven.

The island, seemingly sprouting up from the ocean, was a combination of rough, rocky shoreline and verdant green. I was transfixed by the view. The architecture was so different from what I had just left. My heart ached with its beauty, and I felt bathed in regret that I did not recognize such a beautiful place. For surely, when one returns to an oasis of this magnitude, one ought to feel a measure of gladness in being so fortunate as to view it again. I stood wondering if my parasol would withstand the ocean breezes that grasped at the ship as it glided into port, and decided instead to simply be warmed by the sun, and allow all of nature to assault my senses.

The soft sway of the boat only added to the surreal impact of what lay before me. But what did lay before me? I knew not, but I looked forward to exploring this place, and seeing what hints of my past might lay within its walls and small alleyways.

As we drew closer, nearing the docks, I moved to a space where I might not be in the way of crewmen seeing to masts and anchors, and leaned on the rail. What seemed small wavering spots soon grew taller, then shadows appeared beneath legs and skirts and I watched as the city came to life before my eyes. I was delighted. The salt air mixed with the smell of fresh-baked goods and my stomach rumbled. I knew I should eat before debarking but the thought of wasting even one minute in setting foot upon the soil of La Rocca was out of the question.

My maid came up and placed a lace shawl about my shoulders to ward off a slight chill and I accepted it, pulling it around me and waiting impatiently as the crew slid the gangplank down. My footmen bid me into my sedan and I nearly waved them off, but in my still-weakened condition, acquiesced and allowed them to safely transport me down the gangplank, to the dock, and up the steep stairs to the commons. I could scarcely believe the contrasts; such small stone corridors weaving a labyrinth beneath the glorious pastoral green.

I rapped lightly on the wall of the sedan, and stepped out when it was placed on the ground, dismissing my footmen. I wished to have a full view of this place, without hindrance of the small enclosure. The sun warmed my skin, and the cool ocean breeze soothed me. No wonder I had come here so often.

I walked toward a large building and within a small copse of Mediterranean pines, a set of stone benches were set, shaded from the heat of the sun, and a small table with wine and glasses set out. I wondered who might have been there... if perhaps I would meet them, if they would know me. Suddenly, the anxiety of coming so far to potentially meet strangers who knew more about me than I knew about myself seemed a silly thing. Suddenly, in the midst of this wondrous place, I found myself hopeful. I walked along the edge of the benches, lightly touching the table holding the wine, and smiled, knowing that some day, perhaps soon, I might be seated there amongst friends, drinking wine and enjoying their company.

As I walked up the steps to the building, I paused to look out at the sea. So strange a journey I had just had. I did not know what had happened to me, awoke in strange surroundings, frightened and alone, and within a matter of mere weeks, found myself in such a glorious place with all the possibilities of life laid before me like a tremendous canvas just waiting to be painted. My mind churned with unanswered questions and unforeseeable outcomes as I slowly climbed the steps, into the shade of the building and through the doors, so immersed in my thoughts. Then I stopped, dead in my tracks.

Such grandeur! I had seen but my own chambers and a small portion of my home upon leaving, the inside of a carriage, the lower decks of a ship, but this... I turned, surveying every painting, every statue, every gilt door frame and felt my eyes well up with tears. I wandered about the Villa taking in everything; each room more exquisite than the one before it and my heart pounded. I could not tell if I was familiar with this place, or if simply the magnitude of its beauty overwhelmed my senses.

After what seemed like hours, I made my way out, and followed the path, down a stairway, and found myself in a lovely cafe overlooking the ocean. I picked up a newspaper, hoping to learn more of what was going on in this glorious place, and a man's voice spoke my name.

Someone knew me, here. I looked up at the older gentleman and came to find that he was the Magistrate of the island. Signore Stern. A friend.

I cannot possibly articulate how grateful I am to be here.

[end of entry]

I've been given a journal to keep. I suppose writing things down might help me to remember, but then why do they not give me one with prior memories? I have asked if I may have some idea of who I am, but all they say is "Lady Olivia" or "Dowager Baroness Clive". I've yet to have a concrete answer, but I suppose the first thing I should do is to write down my name.

Olivia

Clive, I suppose, though some call me Chapman and then correct themselves. The lady and gentleman with the worried expressions are called by that name, and say they are my parents. I do not know them.

My awakening brought me great fear, as one might imagine. I was told I had an incident - what, exactly, has not been disclosed. I find the lack of forthrightness quite appalling, but perhaps they are only withholding information that, if disclosed, would bring me greater discomfort.

After two weeks being fussed over and seen to by a positive army of physicians, I've been packed off on a ship to a place called La Rocca. I'm told that the weather is quite fine and temperate, and that I have many friends there.

I look forward to meeting them.