Isabella Awakening Ch. 03

The Captain's dining room was at the very rear of the ship, a surprisingly spacious and airy room with a ceiling high enough for all but the tallest of the officers to stand fully upright. When Isabella arrived and was ushered into the room by a sailor, the Captain and his officers were already seated at the heavy oak table, leaving two seats and their settings of cutlery and glassware vacant on either side of the Captain. The men had clearly already eaten and another sailor was just now removing their plates.

"Welcome, Signora Silverto," said the Captain as he and the other seated gentlemen half rose from their places in polite and formal greeting. "I hope you do not mind that we have already consumed our main course. I understood from Simon that you were still slightly indisposed and did not wish for a hearty meal at this time. I thought the sight and smell of lamb chops and liver may have been a little too much to cope with at this time."

"Thank you, Captain Bertrand," Isabella replied, curtseying to their welcome and taking the offered seat. "I appreciate your forethought, and, even more so, your tolerance of such a bad a sailor."

The Captain laughed and his officers joined in. "Not at all, my dear. A little seasickness is only to be expected. I can assure you we are all most sympathetic. In fact our other guest, Father Thomas, has not yet emerged from his introduction to the rolling sea off Naples."

At that moment, the door to the room opened again and Father Thomas himself was ushered in. Isabella immediately studied his face. Pale, angular, framed by long blonde hair hanging limply to his shoulders but forming tight ringlets on his slightly thinning forehead and crown. His eyes were a piercing steely blue that she had never seen before and his aquiline nose set off his full lips and sculptured jaw line and chin. He was unlike any priest she had ever seen. His six-foot frame was bent to avoid the ceiling and its beams. His body beneath the cassock was obviously lean and his hands were fine but weathered. She guessed that he was in his early forties, certainly no older.

The Captain greeted Thomas warmly and introduced Isabella as his honoured guest and daughter of his good friends Alberto and Marisa Silverto of Naples. Father Thomas bent lower and addressed Isabella formally as Signora, before taking his place at the table opposite Isabella and on the Captain's left. Isabella and he observed each other closely during the serving of the next course of breakfast, but were careful to avoid direct eye contact. Isabella noticed that Thomas, despite his pallor, broke bread immediately and started to serve himself from the large plate of Neapolitan pastries and glazed fruits on the table. As if to make a point, Isabella crossed herself and, clasping her hands in prayer, said a silent, simple grace, before doing likewise. When she looked up, Thomas was looking directly at her, smiling and chewing his food slowly.

Swallowing his morsel, he wiped his lips on a napkin and addressed her directly, "Signora, forgive my haste and manners. It is so long since I have eaten at table and with Christian guests that I have momentarily forgotten my vows." He continued to smile at Isabella, adding, "I am indebted to you for reminding me."

Isabella was a little taken aback by this, responding, "Not at all father. I am happy to have been of service to a man of God." It was her turn to smile.

The Captain and the three officers watched this little exchange with bemused interest. The officers rose, thanking the Captain for his hospitality and said they would take coffee on the bridge in order to supervise the preparations for entry into Palermo harbour. They took leave of Isabella and Father Thomas and left the Captain with his guests.

Father Thomas was first to speak. "I understand that congratulations are in order, Signora. You must be looking forward to your marriage in Barcelona."

Isabella was caught off guard and responded impulsively. "Must I, Father? Oh, I suppose I must. Thank you for you good wishes, but I'm afraid I have few expectations and no knowledge at all of my intended husband."

The Captain was clearly embarrassed by this turn of events and sought to divert and lighten the tone of the conversation. "We shall be in Sicily by evening," he ventured. "Palermo is a wonderful city in the early summer."

"I shall look forward to it, Captain," smiled Isabella, agreeable to this change in focus. "Shall you be venturing ashore, Father?"

"Indeed. I have some business, er, church matters, that I must attend to in Palermo, if time allows?" the question being addressed to Captain Bertrand.

"We shall unload a small shipment in the morning and restock our cellar in the afternoon. All going well, I expect to leave for Sardinia by mid morning the following day. Will that give you sufficient time, Father?"

"Excellent, sir," Thomas replied. "A full day should suffice. And Signora, will you be sightseeing or shopping in Palermo?"

"I hope to see the town'" she replied. "I have read so much of Sicilian history that I am eager to find the Cathedrals and old castles. But Father, what takes you to Sardinia?"

Thomas looked puzzled. "I beg pardon, Signora. I travel to Sardinia only because the captain must stop there en route to Spain. Or perhaps I misunderstand you question."

"Oh, I am sorry Father. I understood from …a crewman… that you were traveling to Sardinia."

The captain looked uncomfortable, but remained silent.

Thomas glanced his way, but continued amiably, "In the absence of information, Signora, a seamen will fill the void with stories. My mission is to Spain, like yours. The captain was kind enough to allow me passage and I am afraid we will be shipmates for longer that you thought."

"A 'mission' sounds so much more interesting than an arranged marriage." Said Isabella smiling, without a hint of bitterness. "I am intrigued, Father, by your accent and robes. You are not Italian or French, I presume?"

"You are most observant, Signora. No, my parents were English – but have no fear, I renounced the heretical country of my birth long ago and am now a citizen of the world – neither fish nor fowl, so to speak. And as for my robes, well, I am not of the traditional orders that you would know. The Bishop of Aude installed me as a Special Advisor. I am what you might call a political monk. I serve my Bishop and the Mother Church in whatever role I am needed."

Isabella was more curious than ever – a stateless, orderless priest on a special mission to Spain. She looked directly into Thomas's eyes to divine what lay beneath this mysterious shell. He looked back at her with same unwavering stare, his blue eyes revealing nothing and resisting her attempts to see into his soul. This had never happened to Isabella before. She was accustomed to bringing men undone with her eyes. She did note that Thomas's pupils grew wide as she gazed into them and she had a strange feeling of being herself probed. He smiled as they broke their unspoken connection.

"Um. I think perhaps we have changed course for Palermo," interrupted the Captain, self-consciously. He rose to look out of the lattice framed window at the rear of the cabin. "Yes, indeed, we shall see Palermo by sunset."

Isabella rose and took her leave. She had a strange feeling that the Captain needed to talk privately with Thomas, and she wished to see the coast of Sicily as it came into view.

As she moved to the door, Thomas enquired, "Signora Silverto, I was wondering whether you would like to meet a friend of mine in Palermo, a lady of the highest class, the wife of a businessman. I know she would be very glad of a few hours company of a refined and educated young woman, especially one who speaks French. Her home is near the great Cathedral and I could escort you there on the way to my appointments tomorrow."

Isabella thought for a moment and accepted, saying that she would welcome the opportunity to call upon a notable Sicilian family.

"And Father," she added. "Please call me Isabella. Signora Silverto is my mother's name and I will have a new name very soon. I know myself as Isabella and I quite like the name." Isabella smiled warmly at the priest and left.

Simon met her at the ladderway and escorted her, first to her room and ten minutes later to the foredeck, where she would have her first view of the Sicilian coast. Isabella once again enjoyed the feeling of the breeze and strong sun on her face and the heaving of the ship under her feet. She held on to a stay rope and leant into the breeze, closing her eyes and imagining herself an ancient heroine bound for adventures in the Aegean or on the Barbary Coast, those almost mythical places she had read of these many years. The mysterious Thomas, his knowing eyes and his voice, had awoken something in her that she could not describe, but could feel rising within her as warmth and confidence and expectation. Priests had infatuated her before, she remembered, but this was different. It had a hint of danger and of real adventure. She decided to enjoy the fantasy, and to write of it in her secret journal where she spilled her heart and her, usually unrequited, passions for the men and women she met and dreamt of. She smiled to herself and was glad that she had packed her whalebone dildo in her traveling satchel and not in the trunks and boxes that were now deep in the ship's hold. Anton's gift had been the source of many flights of erotic fancy since she was nineteen and she was looking forward to an evening of passion and imagination, perhaps slightly restrained on this occasion, given the proximity of the other cabins and the thinness of the bulkheads. She loved to drift off to sleep fully satisfied and exhausted.

A call of "Land!" from the mast-top and Simon tugging her sleeve brought her back to reality. Despite Simon's pointing and commentary, Isabella could barely make out the dark strip of Sicily on the far horizon. Within a few minutes however the shapes of hills and cliffs started to become clear and she was able to follow Simon's pointing finger to the headland marking the entrance to Palermo harbour.

The passage into Palermo was slow and the ship did not finally berth until just on sunset. The smells and noise of the busy port wafted over the ship and the crew's excitement at the prospect of a night on the town was palpable. While Isabella leant on the railing watching the city slowly come alive with lamplights, she listened as the Captain instructed his crew. He would allow half the crew an evening in the town but imposed a curfew of 2 am. The remaining crew would be allowed the same privilege the following night, provided the unloading and loading of cargo went without a hitch and was completed by 5pm the next day. The crew seemed to find this arrangement acceptable and gave the captain a cheer. Isabella overheard a few mumbled but good-natured warnings exchanged between sailors, to the effect that any one of tonight's freemen who became a slacker tomorrow would be thrown to the sharks.

Isabella did not leave the ship that night, the port being no place for a lady in the darkness, but she rose early the next morning and packed a small bag for her sightseeing and visiting. Simon took charge of the bag and was obviously assigned to accompany her. She checked her pocket clasp, making sure she carried a few coins for him and for the carriage.

Breakfast was rushed and noisy and it wasn't until nine o'clock that Isabella and Simon met up with Father Thomas on the main deck. Thomas had washed and shaved and was dressed in simple black robes and sandals. He looked imposing and, to Isabella, handsome, with his brushed back hair and fair, open but weathered face.

"Good morning to you Signora … , I mean Isabella." He smiled. "A wonderful day to see Palermo, I think." He looked at the bright sky, cloudless and deep blue. A gentle breeze came of the sea.

"Yes, Father, I am very much looking forward to seeing the Cathedral and, of course, visiting your friend."

"Yes, of course. Signora Beatrice Angostini will be expecting us soon. Shall we find a carriage?"

With that, the three travelers made their way down the gangplank connecting the Della Virago to the dock onto the cobbled roadway alive with sailors and workmen manhandling cargo, provisions and ship parts. Simon guided his landlubbers across the road to a portico where he left them while he scuttled up a nearby laneway to find a carriage.

Father Thomas went on, "I took the liberty last evening of sending Beatrice a note about your visit and she replied this morning saying that she would be delighted to receive you and show you her villa. Her husband is away, as is usual during the warmer months, and she is often eager for company. An interesting woman," added Thomas, in a tone that suggested some deeper meaning.

Isabella did not respond directly and they stood together watching the passing crowd until a carriage, Simon sitting up beside the dirt driver, pulled up in front of the portico. The travelers entered the small carriage and it drove off towards the Cathedral on the hill. Thomas leant out of the window and yelled an address to the driver and then sat back opposite Isabella.

"Palermo is a beautiful city, and one which holds many surprises for the observant and sensitive visitor," said Thomas.

"Oh really, Father," said Isabella, wondering what he could possibly be referring to in the way of surprises. "Is there something in particular I should keep my eyes open for?"

"It is the heart and soul that are the most appropriate sensory organs for what I have in mind," replied Thomas, smiling but giving nothing else away.

The conversation was, in any case, cut short by their arrival at the home of Signora Angostini. Simon immediately jumped down from the drivers seat and opened the carriage for Isabella and Thomas. They alighted in an opulent garden driveway in front of an imposing three-storey stone house fronted by many windows and balconies. Isabella was most impressed, not least by the many statues and water gardens amongst the luxuriant foliage along the front of the house. Some of the statues she recognised as being of Greek origin, others as Roman. Others were more obscure and, from her brief glimpse, some of the figures were depicted in pairs or groups engaged in carnal embraces. She had no time inspect them further as the front doors of the house opened wide as the three visitors made their way up the broad limestone steps of the imposing portico.

"Bonjour Thomas! Mon ami! C'est trop de temps!" A tall woman with long auburn hair, wearing a white blouse and a red skirt burst through the open doors and ran the few steps to Thomas. She threw her arms around his neck and kissed him full on the lips. Isabella would have been stunned at such a greeting to a priest, but she already knew that this man Thomas was somehow different from his fellows. She watched with interest as Thomas returned her kisses, although briefly and held her by the waist. The woman pressed herself to him again and Isabella could have sworn she had seen the woman's hand press against the front of Thomas's cassock, just below his waist. But they parted instantly and Thomas was holding the offending hand tightly by his side. Isabella knew from her own past that priests often strayed from their vows – she had heard stories of women and girls seducing the local clergy in Naples and more than once she became aware of a "special" relationship between a priest and a boy at school – but this was almost brazen, despite Thomas's obvious attempt to constrain the woman's hand.

"Madame Beatrice Angostini, may I present Senora Isabella Silverto of Naples," he said in fluent French.

Isabella bobbed and Beatrice welcomed her and took her hand, placing herself between Isabella and Thomas. Isabella remembered Simon.

"Oh, Madame Angostini, this is Simon, my friend from the Della Virago."

Beatrice addressed Simon in perfect Italian, saying he was welcome to stay for tea, if he liked.

Isabella caught Simon's concerned look and offered instead for him to visit the town and return later to escort her on a tour of the nearby Cathedral and castles. Simon brightened, and was even happier when Isabella fetched three copper coins from her clasp and bade him have a good time.

Thomas intervened. "Return at three with a carriage for your mistress, Simon," he instructed. "Oh, and Simon, no mischief," He gave Simon a meaningful look, then smiled.

Simon said brief but formal goodbyes and left, almost running out of the gate.

The three adults entered to the grand house, Beatrice clearly pleased to have the company.

"An old friend and a new friend for tea, Carla!" she called as she reached the entry hall, showing them into the sitting room to the left of the entrance.

The room was large and airy with full-length windows or glazed doors along one long wall letting sun stream into the room.

As Beatrice entered into an animated discussion with Thomas about his recent travels through France and Italy, Isabella had a chance to observe her closely. Isabella thought her quite beautiful. Her square face and strong, wide jaw might have been considered manly on a woman with less refinement, but Beatrice carried herself with such ease and her beautiful green eyes, sculptured nose and full lips gave more of an impression of absolute confidence and classic womanly grace. Her hair was cut to her shoulders and was informal, in the French style. Isabella guessed her to be around forty-five years old but it was difficult to tell for sure. Her face and neck were smooth but showed the effects of the sun, as did her elegant hands, with their long fingers and manicured nails.

Isabella suddenly became aware that Beatrice had stopped talking to Thomas and was now looking at her with returned interest. She was unphased and wondered what this woman would make of her. Their eyes met and Isabella realised that Beatrice, just like Thomas, had powerful depths and was as capable as she was at looking within a person's soul.

Thomas cleared his throat and a servant; presumably the Carla that Beatrice had called to, entered the drawing room carrying two trays. She set these on the small table between the facing couches and proceeded to arrange the cups and plates and pour tea.

"It is good to see you again, Carla," said Thomas, smiling broadly at the girl.

Despite her bronzed olive skin, Isabella saw that Carla blushed and tried to avoid Thomas's eyes. A pursed smile broke out on her lips as she finished pouring the tea.

"Thank you, Father," she said quietly. "Welcome back to Palermo"

"I always enjoy my visits here", said Thomas

Carla's blush deepened and she curtseyed and left the room.

The three drank their tea, ate little Sicilian cakes and chatted. Isabella was impressed with Beatrice's easy manner and wide knowledge of Mediterranean affairs. She was particularly animated when discussing the benefits the Bourbon Princes had brought to Sicily, in terms of culture and ideas for reform, and quizzed Isabella on their approach to the governance of Naples. Thomas and Beatrice were clearly knowledgeable on subjects as diverse as politics, art, architecture and education and treated Isabella as an equal, seeking her views or comment at every turn. Their conversation lasted half and hour until Thomas said that he had to take his leave to attend to pressing matters. Beatrice rose to escort him to the door.

After farewelling Thomas with, as Isabella noticed, another kiss and a hand pressed to his groin, Beatrice returned to the drawing room and smiled warmly at Isabella. They continued their conversation in French.

"Thomas is such a wonderful …. Priest, is he not?" said Beatrice, watching Isabella's reaction closely.