Perfect Weather for an Outing
"Is there some sort of problem?"
"That girl is terribly particular. She only ever takes her meals inside the mansion."
"Is that so."
It sounded like concern on the surface, but to a suitor like him the remark was unnecessary. When Cesare answered with indifference, Madame Pignatelli spoke even more firmly.
"So it would be best if you avoided dining together outside as much as possible."
It was less worry than a form of restraint.
"If you would tell me which foods to avoid, I shall do so."
"The dishes she is served differ each time. She's truly a finicky child...."
"I've never heard of such a constitution before."
"Shall we say her body is needlessly fragile. In others' eyes she will only look like a peevish young lady, so I am cautioning you in advance so that she does not appear that way."
It was nearly a curse. It seemed the reason none of the young lady of Pignatelli's suitors had yet become her fiancé owed something to this woman's efforts as well. He had been about to speak, but they had arrived at her door, and the words that had risen to his throat had to be swallowed back down.
The first time he had visited her parlor he must have been quite nervous. On this second visit, details he had not noticed before caught his eye. The suncatcher swayed with a clear chime in the breeze that slipped through the open window, and sunlight striking the fish tank painted rippling waves across the ceiling.
"Well then, I hope you have a pleasant time."
When he said there was no need to prepare tea, Madame Pignatelli looked at him as though delivering a final charge, then left the room. His gaze lingered on the scene for only a moment before a greeting snapped him back to himself.
"Welcome."
Unlike the previous visit when she had been out on the terrace, she sat on the sofa to receive Cesare.
"Good morning... to you."
He spoke in a manner uncharacteristic of himself.
"It is just past noon, so a good afternoon, rather."
Contrary to Cesare's expectations, her expression looked composed.
"The fish tank... is empty."
"They died."
"You must have been heartbroken."
A few meaningless exchanges followed. He had only assumed she would be more embarrassed than he, so the present situation was entirely unexpected.
"That day... did you return safely?"
Confirming that the door had fully closed, Cesare cleared his throat and spoke with careful propriety. Back then the servants had come looking for her belatedly, and he had been forced to send her off without so much as a proper farewell.
I shouldn't have let her go like that....
Cesare lowered his gaze. Even without naming the subject, he was certain she would understand.
"Pardon?"
But what came back was another reply that defied his expectations. When he jerked his head up, she was tying the ribbon of her wide-brimmed hat as she asked again.
"If you mean the last time we met, shouldn't that be my question?"
At first he was puzzled, but soon he grasped her meaning. She was excluding every day except the one he had visited the mansion.
"Ah."
As if such an incident could stir no feeling in her at all. The scent of rainwater and a heat that had yet to fully fade still clung to his skin, yet her face remained clear and calm. When Cesare found himself at a loss for words, she spoke again.
"It's perfect weather for an outing."
The early-summer breeze still brushed between young leaves, and a moderately warm sun spilled down.
"Shall we go, then?"
He parted his lips, wanting to say something more, but in the end those were the only words that emerged.
When they went around to the back of the house where the car was parked, two people stood in front of it. The man was bent over inspecting a wheel, and the woman stood beside him holding a fan.
"Is there some problem?"
When Cesare asked, the man straightened up.
"Truly a magnificent automobile. Isn't this the new model just unveiled by Jodsa?"
Recalling how Lucio had run about here and there to purchase this car even amid his busy schedule, Cesare gave a light nod.
"You know your cars."
"It really is... a splendid vehicle."
The gaze fixed on the car sparkled even more. Perhaps thinking the conversation would remain only about the car at this rate, the woman introduced herself first.
"I'm Evelyn Savelli."
"A pleasure. Lady Savelli. I am Cesare Appiano."
Only then did the man who had been lost in the car scratch the back of his head sheepishly and introduce himself.
"My introduction is late. I am Peter, coachman of the Pignatelli Mansion."
"So you must be the one who matches my little sister's tiresome principles."
Only upon hearing the woman refer to Delfina Pignatelli as her little sister did he realize.
I believe I heard that Count Pignatelli's second wife had brought a daughter from her previous marriage.
Cesare glanced at Delfina standing behind him. Unlike when they were alone, she remained quiet, her face looking pale. The sight of her unable to say a word even against such sharp speech made him feel inexplicably unpleasant. It was not an expression one should use to her face. Cesare had expected Delfina to retort the way she had to him.
"......."
But she said nothing, merely gripping one arm with her hand and bowing her head. Her face even seemed to have gone deathly pale.
Why did she always defy his expectations? She held the highest authority in this Pignatelli Mansion. The first in the line of succession was, without question, her.
The silence that followed threatened to make the atmosphere strange. Leaving it alone would have been fine. But Cesare found himself speaking before he knew it.
"Is it not better than never even getting the chance because of the walls of status?"
"...I never realized you thought so highly of my little sister...."
Annoyed by his intervention, Evelyn said with a crooked smile.
"I would be grateful if you would take note of it even now."
When Cesare approached the passenger side, Coachman Peter stepped back as if frightened. He opened the door and extended his hand toward Delfina, who stood stock-still. She looked a little startled at the outstretched hand. Then she took it and climbed into the passenger seat.
"I cannot delay our schedule, so I hope you will understand."
Before returning to the driver's seat, he gave a light bow toward the two watching them.
Even as she stared blankly after the departing car for a moment, Evelyn recovered first and kicked Peter's shin. She struck hard enough to produce a dull thud, and Peter crouched down.
"You coward."
The scathing words were aimed at Peter, yet her gaze was already fixed on the end of the road where the car had vanished.
"I'm sorry. Only... he was more threatening than I expected...."
From a distance he had looked like a lean man in fine fabric, but up close he was different. He was tall, and his build was by no means small.
"Do that again next time and you'll get kicked in the rear."
Though she did not carry Pignatelli blood, in the social circles of this region she was as good as the face of the Pignatelli family. She had never met a man so rude.
"It would be best to find out in advance what this guest from out of town wants."
Her eyes narrowed sharply.
Vroom.
Each time the car made its cheerful sound, the scenery outside the window flowed swiftly past.
"By the way, I haven't even told you where we're going."
"...Yes."
Cesare spoke first.
"There's a small exhibition just a little way out into the countryside, I hear."
It was a somewhat secluded place that had begun to gain word of mouth for the beauty of an anonymous portrait.
"I see."
Her voice was suppressed. He shifted the gaze fixed ahead for driving slightly to the side. Delfina was covering her mouth with a handkerchief. Her complexion had gone beyond white to a bluish cast. She had broken out in such a cold sweat that her bangs clung to her forehead.
Screeech—!
He brought the car to an abrupt halt.
"Are you all right?"
"Excuse me, I—"
She couldn't even finish the sentence before flinging the car door open and bolting out. A refreshing breeze blew through the open gap. After a short pause he went out to find her.
Walking in the direction she had run, it was not long before a small lake came into view. She was sitting under a tree near the thicket, as if she had caught her breath. When he approached from behind with a deliberate sound of footsteps, she looked back.
"I never imagined you would get motion sickness."
He held out the handkerchief from his pocket.
"I'm sorry. The place we were going... even now—"
"There's hardly time left for that."
"..................."
He could have used her fault as a pretext to ask for more meetings.
Lucio would not have let this chance slip. Cesare knew that too.
Since he would not put on an act to force her favor, each and every meeting mattered.
But he did not want to force it that way.