Monday, October 22, 1866
“I have a few more questions if you don’t mind. In particular there’s something I’ve been meaning to ask you. At Bella’s wake I saw you with a gentleman.”
Gioconda laughed. She was dressed in indigo damask, full skirts, gold stars embroidered on the bodice. A matching scarf draped her shoulders. “Which one?”
“Tall, light brown hair. Curly. Wore black of course, frock coat, cravat, armband.”
The redhead drew a blank.
“Struts a bit,” Serafina said.
Serafina nodded. “How do you know him?”
“Same way everyone does.” Gioconda winked. “Bella’s uncle, at least that’s what Bella called him. Met him through her.”
“In the parlor of course. I think he was with her father.”
“And you’ve known him for how long?”
“Oh, la, couple of years, I’d guess.”
“I’m not the only one. Helps himself.”
“Does he know all the women?”
“Just a few of us. The select, you might say. On his last visit, he was with a couple of the girls in the parlor, chatting and such, having a gay old time. Likes to be surrounded by what he calls ‘the choicest meats.’”
Serafina’s brows furrowed. Rosa didn’t bother to tell her about Eugenia. Now Falco. Rosa keeps secrets from herself.
Photo: Dopo la pioggia. Credit: lorca56 (Flickr)