Nun (9781609459109) by Simonetta Agnello Hornby Page B

them down securely, she decided to take the promised bride to Messina immediately and to stay there right up to the eve of the wedding. Agata could go and stay with Aunt Orsola, who had generously asked her stepson Michele to let them use the chapel and the drawing rooms of Palazzo Padellani to hold the religious function and the wedding reception.
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    Agata wasn’t thinking about anything other than her wedding, and she was happy to go stay with her aunt. Spring had come early and in the mornings her aunt took her by carriage down to the Marina, the Naples waterfront where she treated Agata to pastries and ice cream. In the afternoons, she was permitted to sit at a corner of the table where her aunt unfailingly played cards every day. The Princess of Opiri was under the spell of cards: along with religion and opera, cards were her guiding passion. Her Wednesdays were devoted to whist.
    James Garson, who was likewise on the verge of being married, was a frequent visitor to the Princess’s salons.
    Agata listened to the conversations at the card tables and during refreshments and absorbed everything she heard like a sponge: through the assortment of gossip and the occasional anecdote, she was able to get glimpses of a larger political, commercial, and artistic world. She was burning with the desire to have her say, but she was ashamed to speak out. Once, Admiral Pietraperciata, noticing a gleam in her eye, asked her to express her view—they had been talking about the fact that Jane Austen published her entire body of work anonymously. Agata blushed, then looked around at the others sitting at the table: Aunt Orsola was studying her cards; Aunt Clementina, caught off guard, shot a glare at the admiral and then focused at her hand of cards; James Garson in contrast was waiting for her to speak, his eyes looking straight into hers. Once again, that gaze made Agata hesitant, but then she spoke with growing confidence.
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    That night Agata was euphoric when she went to bed, her cheeks burning and her heart pounding furiously. The conversation had been stimulating that evening, and for the first time she had savored the pleasure of meeting minds and comparing views with refined, educated people. After saying her prayers, her thoughts turned to Giacomo. She felt as if she could see his dark handsome face, his fleshy lips, and she realized that in Messina a conversation of that kind and on that level would have been unthinkable, especially in the Lepre household. With a faint sigh, she resolved that there was no alternative but to follow her beloved to Sicily, so that’s what she would do. She fell asleep trying to guess who her aunt’s partners at cards would be the next day.
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    Her aunt allowed her to visit with Sandra, even though her mother had fought with her again over money. Tommaso Aviello claimed that his mother-in-law had been more generous with Amalia and Giulia, when she’d dismantled the family home in Messina, because they were married to men of whom she approved, while he was merely useful to her in taking care of her business. Sandra took her husband’s side in the argument.
    At their home, Agata met young men who were quivering with passion for the Italian cause. She listened to them in admiration and did her best to understand what had lit that flame in their eyes, what made them willing to sacrifice themselves. Then, when she was alone, she knew that she had no desire to emulate them, she would be unwilling to sacrifice her life for anyone but Giacomo.
    The months of February and March, which she spent in her aunt Orsola’s home, were perhaps the most peaceful period in Agata’s life.
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    Her mother and Anna Carolina had returned from Messina with Carmela and Annuzza at the beginning of April, three weeks before the wedding. They astonished Agata with their decision to stay at the Aviello apartment—Donna Gesuela had made peace with them now—leaving Agata