She Walks in Darkness Read Online Free Page B

moment, covered mine with it. “Let’s let it alone, Barbs. Every old house has seen both ugliness and beauty. You can’t keep either one out.”
    “All right. I won’t ask any more questions until we leave. I certainly will then.”
    “Good girl.” He squeezed my hand, and we drove on.
    Sunset found us still driving. The hills were purple now; the earth was as gray as a dead face. There were no more houses, not a single sign of life anywhere. The car was climbing steadily, up rocky, barren slopes.
    And then we saw it: rosy in the red light, its stone walls—stone that light-catching, ever-changing color peculiar to Tuscany—rising up before us with an almost tender softness of hue and purity of line. It looked so beautiful that my heart rose; I pressed Richard’s hand. “It is lovely. The right place for a honeymoon.” And he smiled at me, his eyes warm. Oh, Richard! Richard!
    We drove into a stone-paved courtyard and parked before huge, heavily carved doors. Richard got out and went in to look for Mattia Rossi. I was left alone in the courtyard; at least I thought I was alone....
    I heard nothing; I can swear to that. Nothing but the cooing of pigeons, the soft natural sounds of a summer evening, no least noise from inside the trunk. If he was there, he waited very quietly. But of course he was not there.
    When Richard came back, he was puzzled, frowning. “The old fellow doesn’t seem to be anywhere around. But he can't be far away. Nothing's locked up. Better come in.”
    The big, shadowy hall was lovely too, with its noble stone staircase. But it was nothing compared to our ownquarters, waiting above. A wide archway joined two big, low rooms that seemed magical in the twilight. On the rear wall of the inner chamber, Venus was rising naked from the sea. Nymphs were raising worshipful arms to hail her, birds were flying low in marveling delight, fish rose staring from the deep. In the half-light the blue waves really had the shimmer of mysterious depths; their cool hues brought out the rosy whiteness of the goddess’s flesh. As we crossed the anteroom towards the magnificent carved bed at her feet, we seemed to be caught among all these creatures swarming along the walls to do her homage.
    “Some bridal suite,” said Richard, grinning.
    For a moment I didn’t answer. Realization had come like a blow, made me a little sick. These had been the long-dead little principessa’s rooms! I suddenly wished that Richard and I were going to love somewhere else, in some cheap, clean place. Then I managed to smile and said quite truthfully, “You can’t just say that this is beautiful. But what else is there to say?”
    “I’m glad you like it.” Was his smile indulgent? Richard is hard to fool. “I’ll go down and get our bags.”
    “And the groceries. I’ll come too.”
    We made three trips in all. The first was fun, an occasion. The second definitely was not fun, and the third left me panting, anxious only to put my load down and rest.
    But inspection of my very original kitchen soon restored me. It was really a bath—a Roman-ish super-bath, opening into both rooms. Walls and ceiling, gorgeous as the bedroom’s own, made it a kind of rainbow wonderland. A tall screen hid the john, Mrs. Harris’s two hot plates sat on a small folding table that could be easily cleared away, and the big, modern white refrigerator almost justified itself. It towered over a rose-colored marble pool that looked like the very heart of a rose. Had the aged bridegroom like to watch his young wife bathe? I wondered, suddenly feeling a little nauseated. To gloat over that girlish body that was legally his?
    Richard said, “I’d better put the car away.”
    “Is there a garage?”
    “In the base of the tower; I expect it used to hold donkeys. As we came in, a kind of screening wall hid it from the cortile —courtyard to you.”
    “Oh, the tower! I didn’t get a good look at it. Can we see it from the bedroom