Page 51 of Unchaining the Heart of the Marquess
“I am sorry for the worry I have caused you.”
Frederick nodded in acknowledgement of her apology but did not push her further. There had been enough negative words exchanged between them before her disappearance, and he did not wish for there to be anymore. Last night, as he had sat staring at the stars, he had finally accepted that she would tell him what he needed to know when she was ready, and not before. Here, in this place of serene beauty, there was no need to spoil it by pressing her for answers she did not wish to give.
They ate breakfast in peace and then his mother left to call upon a neighboring villa. Frederick was not sure whether she had made prior arrangements to do so or if she had simply desired to be free of him, but there was little he could do about it.
It is not as if I can throw her over my shoulder and force her to return home.
Flagging down the manservant he had spoken with earlier, he asked where he could send a missive back to England for his father but discovered that he would most likely have returned to England long before the letter would ever arrive. Frederick disliked the idea of causing his father undue concern by not receiving swift reassurances of the Duchess’ safety, but he had little choice. Deciding to risk it, he went ahead and wrote the letter anyway and had it sent off.
Frederick had sent Lt. Buckworth with the Duchess to ensure her safety so decided to take a walk alone along the coastline. He meandered his way down to the beach and sat down on the black volcanic sands. He ran his fingers through the sand, picking out pieces of shell, sea glass, and terra cotta. The blue, green, and brown glass had been beveled smooth by centuries of polishing.Josephine would love this.He selected a handful of the prettiest specimens to take home to her.
Removing his clothes, he went for a swim. He let the water carry his weight as he floated along releasing his worries into the never-ending blue. He understood why his mother had chosen to flee to her family’s villa. It was nearly impossible to retain one’s cares when surrounded by sparkling seas and beauteous landscapes. Returning to shore he dressed and continued walking down the coast.
Further along the shore, he encountered a group of fishermen mending their nets. “Buongiorno,” he greeted.
“Buongiorno,” they replied with a smile and waved him over to take a seat. “You are English, yes?”
“Yes, I am,” Frederick nodded and smiled in return. He walked over and sat down, watching as the men’s hands flew across the nets fixing any tears they found.
“Come ti chiami?” One of the men asked his name.
“Frederick,” he answered opting to exclude his title.
“Ah, Frederico,” they nodded in approval.
“I am Paulo. Are you married Frederico?” the one who spoke English asked.
“No,” Frederick shook his head.
“I have a beautiful daughter,” the man informed him as if hinting that he would be greatly pleased to introduce them.
Frederick chuckled. “I am sure she is lovely, but my heart belongs to another.”
“Amore,” they all grinned nodding in unison, eyes sparkling with mischievous appreciation.
“Si, amore.” Frederick agreed. The men urged him for details, and they sat talking for some time each man giving him advice on how best to woo her. It was freeing to talk without deference to social hierarchy or fear of judgement. With these strangers, whom he would most likely never see again, he was free to be himself without title or pretext.
“Tell her you love her, Frederico. Fight for her. Be passionate. You English are so cold and reserved in your affections. Do not let this Greeves take her from you. As soon as you return to England, take your Josephine into your arms, kiss her, and then never let her go,” Paulo advised, speaking with passion as his hands grabbed the empty air in front of him and pulled it to his chest.
“I do not know if she will forgive me for turning her away for so long,” Frederick admitted ashamed of his previous behavior.
“Love is meant to be passionate, fiery. Lovers fight. If she loves you, she will forgive you.” The men spoke of love with such forcefulness that it filled Frederick’s heart and mind with a blaze so fierce he could barely contain it.
Frederick visited with the men for some time as morning turned to afternoon. “Come with me and meet my familia. We will eat, drink, and speak further of life and love,” Paulo invited.
Feeling more at ease than he had felt in years, Frederick agreed. He bid the other men farewell and followed Paulo to his home not far from the shore where they had sat mending nets. Paulo was a fisherman who sold his catch each morning in the village market. His family had lived there for centuries. He was a proud, happily married man, with many sons and daughters, all of whom welcomed Frederick with open arms.
Paulo’s wife Carina embraced Frederick, kissing each of his cheeks in turn as was the custom, then ushered him to a large table in the garden behind the house. She served them food similar to that he had savored in Naples with the addition of parmigiana di melanzane, a unique dish layering eggplant, sauce, and cheese. He had never tasted the like before. The meal took hours with several courses as wine and conversation flowed freely around the table in a mixture of Italian and English.
Paulo’s family asked many questions about England and shared with him about their own land and culture. From what Frederick could ascertain, there was quite a bit of political unrest throughout the peninsula. Paulo shared that he was fortunate to have a steady stream of business to support his family, but not everyone in the south was, and he was concerned for some of his neighbors’ wellbeing. Frederick knew the feeling all too well after having met the Evans brothers and seen the condition of the village.
When Frederick left Paulo’s family to return to the villa, Carina wrapped him some of the parmigiana di melanzane to take with him. He bid them all farewell and promised to return for another visit soon. Following the coast back toward the villa, Frederick thought over his argument to convince his mother to return home. He was fairly certain that he would not be successful, but he had to continue to try for his father’s sake.
He considered leaving and returning to England to reassure his father of her safety regardless of whether she agreed to accompany him or not, but he could not take the chance of leaving her helpless without protection. His father had been right in that no other family was staying at the villa, and the Duchess had not bothered hiring herself any form of protection.
I suppose I could leave Lt. Buckworth to watch over her while I sail back to England, but Mother is likely to fire the poor man in my absence, which would leave him in a strange land with nothing to provide for himself.
Frederick worried over the proper course of action to take and found no simple answer to the predicament. By the time he returned to the villa he was no closer to a solution than he had been before he left.
