Never Land the First Fish

Chapter Twenty: Part 2

Giancarlo and his new bride lived in a tidy little townhouse in a row of houses on one side of a square so new that the trees in the central garden were still saplings and some of the paths had not yet been laid.

Emily allowed Maddox to hand her down from the hired carriage. He paid the driver to wait. "It looks as if we will have to walk miles to get another if we let this one go," he said as he joined her. "Are you ready, my love?"

No, she wasn't, and she wasn't going to be. Giancarlo lived in the centre of an emotional tempest that revolved around his hurt feelings and his needs. She hated the thought of being drawn into that drama once again. Still, the sooner they started the sooner they could leave. Her nod to Maddox was firm.

He took the four steps up to the front door and a couple of strides, and gave the doorknocker a sound wrapping. The door opened immediately. The maid on the other side said, "The missus ain't receivin'."

Maddox put a foot forward to block her from shutting the door but she made no attempt to do so. Instead, she ignored them both and began to take the knocker off the door. "Going somewhere, are they?"

The maid glared at him. "The missus ain't receivin'," she repeated.

"We are here to see Signore Narcisco," Maddox explained.

Another hostile glance. "You're not having the look of a debt collector," she observed. "Got your sister in the family way, did he?" She spoke directly to Emily, her voice slightly more sympathetic. It's sorry for you, I am, but it ain't nothin' to do with me or the missus."

"We have not brought that kind of trouble to your mistress's home," Emily said. "Can you tell us where we might find Signore Narcisco?"

"Maggie, have you packed my mother's tablecloths? I cannot leave without my mother's tablecloths." The speaker drifted into sight, and stopped short to examine Maddox with widened eyes and then look beyond him to Emily. The voice was that of a little girl, but the figure was definitely a woman; a very young woman, to be sure. But the heavy pregnancy removed any question. This was Giancarlo's wife.

"Mrs Narcissco?" Maddox asked.

The woman nodded. "Have you come to visit my husband? Does he owe you money? He told Papa that the list was for all his debts. I hope you are on the list, Sir. If you are not... I am sorry, but Papa says he will not pay anything more."

Maddox's voice softened. "Your husband does not owe me money, Mrs Narcisco. I am merely here as escort to –"

"In that case, you must come in. You must both come in." She flicked her eyes to Emily, and then back to Maddox. "My husband will be home soon, I am sure. Indeed, I expected him quite two hours ago." She cast an anxious look at the maid, who had finished taking the knocker off the door and was standing ready to shut it again. "I do hope nothing has befallen him. Maggie, do we still have the makings for tea?"

She turned her attention back to Maddox. "Come in, come in. How do you know my husband?"

Emily climbed the stairs and entered the house to follow the flustered woman. As she passed the maid, she heard the woman muttering, "The devil to a penny, 'tis the whiskey or a woman that has befallen the blaggart, to be sure, to be sure."

With Maddox at her heels, Emily followed Mrs Narcisco into a drawing room covered in dust sheets and empty of any ornaments or personal items.

The girl—she was little more than that, perhaps half Emily's age—regarded the dust sheets in dismay, as if she had forgotten they were there. "We are almost packed," she explained, still ignoring Emily and looking up at Maddox as if he was the only other person in the room. "Tomorrow, we sail for Italy, where we will be living with my husband's family." A quick frown. "Oh, but listen to me. You cannot be interested in our private business. I did not catch your name?"