| General Fiction posted June 11, 2019 | Chapters: |
...31 32 -33- 
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Chapter in the book
A chapter in the book Briarly Hall
Squire Alfred's sojourn in Milan
by zanya
| Background Squire Alfred has come to Milan to search for his grown- up son, Lord Airdale and to establish parentage for 7 year old Giovanni who resides with him and his wife in England at Briarly Hall |
Warmer breezes stirred the leaves of the Olive trees on this April morning. Through the bay window of his second-floor bedroom, Squire Alfred could see an azure sky. His back ached as he turned to take in the Spring view.
Count Eduardo, his host and lifelong friend would by now be making his way to the stables for his early morning canter. Country blood ran in Eduardo's veins, just as it did in Alfreds. It was now one month since Alfred's mishap on his early morning canter, alone, across Eduardo's estate.
" Fiddlesticks," Alfred muttered to himself. " How could I have been such a fool? Cantering alone at speed in unfamiliar terrain. Now I must endure the pain and wait."
There was an urgent knocking on his bedroom door.
" Entrare, " he called out. Gradually Italian words were becoming part of his conversation. He hoped it would prove useful in his search for his son.
Dr Vincenzi opened the oak bedroom door. Alfredo had begun to look forward to seeing Vincenzi. Vincenzi had served on the battlefield, sustaining serious leg injuries, forcing him to return home after six months. After eighteen months recuperation, Vincenzi eventually resumed his doctor's duties.
"Buon giorno, Alfredo," Dr Vincenzi said.
"Buon Giorno, Vincenzi," Alfred replied.
" You begin to speak good Italian, Alfredo," Vincenzi added with a chuckle.
Dropping his doctor's bag on the ottoman stool, he took Alfredo's wrist and listened to his heartbeat.
"You have good English heart," he said. "But your back, it take a long time to heal."
" How long, Vincenzi," Alfred asked, " how long......soon I shall be a burden on my kind host, Eduardo?"
"Burden..no...no...no ..no burden for Eduardo..he tell me how happy he is to see his old friend."
"Eduardo tell me you search for your son here in Milan...why is your son lost in Italy ? Is he a child?"
Alfredo smiled to himself. " No', he is not a child. He is a wastrel..how do you say in Italian? No-good son.......we say in English...a wastrel."
With that Vincenzi reached into his bag and took out a dog-eared Italian/English dictionary with a green and red cover.
"This belonged to my mother, Beatrice, who studied in London, as young girl. Told me to treasure it."
"Ah.." Vincenzi replied with a laugh" in Italian we say 'perdigiorno' ..you know a person who wastes the day. But why are you looking for him. He is a grown man? No?"
"Si...si..Lord Airdale is a grown man for many years now ...forty -five years old," Sir Alfred replied.
"Heirs..Vincenzi..heirs..property ..." Alfred answered.
"Ah..".Vincenzi replied. Does he have sons.?"
"That is the problem..my wife and I, Lady Betsey had a visit from a young woman, Lady Laetaxia, seven years ago at our Briarly Hall home. Not just a visit but she bestowed a baby, Giovanni, on us stating his father was Lord Airdale."
"What fun you English men have when you go abroad," Vincenzi answered, laughing loudly. " You ungird your puritan loins and sow your seed."
The two men laughed conspiratorially.
Reaching one arm towards his bedside table, Alfredo took a bottle of brandy while pointing to the two shot glasses glinting in the morning sunshine. Vincenzi poured two small draughts, handing one to Alfred.
"A drop..just a drop," Alfredo, I do my doctor's morning duty."
Vincenzi's face took on a serious expression.
"Alfredo, you and your wife now have a problem. Who is Lady Laetaxia? She is your son's lover and mother of his child. Paternity ?"
"Vincenzi..you are a medicine man, a doctor, you know more about these matters..there is no way, is there? Truth to tell Giovanni has my wife's chestnut eyes and button nose. But button noses are little good in a court of law where primogeniture is supreme."
" Ah..primogenitura..primogenitura.." Vincenzi repeated.
Vincenzi sipped his draught of brandy slowly,
The clock in the Church tower struck noon. Vincenzi jumped up placing his brandy glass on the mantlepiece.
"Why what an interesting guest Eduardo has in his casa."
"So why did you come to Milan to search for your perdigiorno son?"
Alfred now felt a sense of relief being free to talk about his son.
"Because Lady Laetaxia said she was hurrying back to Milan to rest. She was very ill. She may be no longer alive."
Leaving a bottle of dark green tincture on the night table, Vincenzi prepared to leave.
"Ask Eduardo's footman to put the tincture into your back two times a day. Loosen the muscles and heal."
Alfredo heard the sound of footsteps on the marble staircase.
"Alfredo..Alfredo..are you ready for lunch." Eduardo called out." Have you seen Vincenzi today?"
"Si..si..Eduardo ," Vincenzi called out as he picked up his doctor's bag and snapped it shut.
"Come in Eduardo.."Vincenzi said. " You have an interesting house guest."
"Ah..Vincenzi..good to see you. How is the English patient today ?"
"Strong heart..beating well...but sad for his perdigiorno son..Lord Airdale..I see what I can do for Alfredo."
With that Vincenzi left the room and soon the clip-clop of his horses hooves could be heard on the cobblestones, driving away from Eduardo's family seat Castello Rinello.
"Pranzo.or as you English say luncheon or is it lunch ?.Alfredo..pranzo.." Eduardo said as he opened the window wide.
"Italian Spring air ..good for health," he said.
"Vincenzi is good company, Alfredo, good doctor, good company, good war stories. Knows many people."
Alfred had begun to feel helpless in his plight, serious back injury with no hope of searching for his son, at least for several months.
"Alfredo," Eduardo began, " I have important letters to write and will spend the evening in my study."
"Bene, bene.." Alfred replied. He knew he could not impose upon Eduardo's hospitality for much longer. He sighed deeply at his predicament.
How he wished Betsey were here to share his sorrows as she had always done. He longed to write her a letter.
A large bottle of black ink and a dark green quill, encrusted with a blue stone, stood on his bedroom table but he was unable to write or even sit upright.
He thought of how he and Lady Betsey had raised Lord Airdale to be responsible and trustworthy. Yet now in his middle years Lord Airdale had lost contact with his family. How could he find out if Giovanni, who had lived at Briarly Hall was in fact his son.
A few hours later darkness had begun to fall. Stars twinkled in the eastern sky. He dozed off. Shortly afterwards he heard voices outside his door. Butler Mario and Eduardo spoke in hushed tones. He could only make out a few words.
"Va bene...Mario," Eduardo said. "Good for Alfredo..."
Alfredo listened closely.
Eduardo knocked loudly on Alfred's door and walked in.
"Vincenzi has located your son Airdale in a Milan hospital. He is not well. He has not long to live.
He asks for his son Giovanni."
Alfred found it difficult to believe what he was hearing.
"Vincenzi says you must write him a letter asking him to declare Giovanni to be his son. There is not much time."
Next morning Alfred woke with a start. He was delirious. Vincenzi sat on a chair by his bedside, mopping his brow.
" Alfredo," Vincenzi said, " You must rest. Yesterday you worried too much about your troubles. Tomorrow is a new day."
**********************************************
Count Eduardo, his host and lifelong friend would by now be making his way to the stables for his early morning canter. Country blood ran in Eduardo's veins, just as it did in Alfreds. It was now one month since Alfred's mishap on his early morning canter, alone, across Eduardo's estate.
" Fiddlesticks," Alfred muttered to himself. " How could I have been such a fool? Cantering alone at speed in unfamiliar terrain. Now I must endure the pain and wait."
There was an urgent knocking on his bedroom door.
" Entrare, " he called out. Gradually Italian words were becoming part of his conversation. He hoped it would prove useful in his search for his son.
Dr Vincenzi opened the oak bedroom door. Alfredo had begun to look forward to seeing Vincenzi. Vincenzi had served on the battlefield, sustaining serious leg injuries, forcing him to return home after six months. After eighteen months recuperation, Vincenzi eventually resumed his doctor's duties.
"Buon giorno, Alfredo," Dr Vincenzi said.
"Buon Giorno, Vincenzi," Alfred replied.
" You begin to speak good Italian, Alfredo," Vincenzi added with a chuckle.
Dropping his doctor's bag on the ottoman stool, he took Alfredo's wrist and listened to his heartbeat.
"You have good English heart," he said. "But your back, it take a long time to heal."
" How long, Vincenzi," Alfred asked, " how long......soon I shall be a burden on my kind host, Eduardo?"
"Burden..no...no...no ..no burden for Eduardo..he tell me how happy he is to see his old friend."
"Eduardo tell me you search for your son here in Milan...why is your son lost in Italy ? Is he a child?"
Alfredo smiled to himself. " No', he is not a child. He is a wastrel..how do you say in Italian? No-good son.......we say in English...a wastrel."
With that Vincenzi reached into his bag and took out a dog-eared Italian/English dictionary with a green and red cover.
"This belonged to my mother, Beatrice, who studied in London, as young girl. Told me to treasure it."
"Ah.." Vincenzi replied with a laugh" in Italian we say 'perdigiorno' ..you know a person who wastes the day. But why are you looking for him. He is a grown man? No?"
"Si...si..Lord Airdale is a grown man for many years now ...forty -five years old," Sir Alfred replied.
"Heirs..Vincenzi..heirs..property ..." Alfred answered.
"Ah..".Vincenzi replied. Does he have sons.?"
"That is the problem..my wife and I, Lady Betsey had a visit from a young woman, Lady Laetaxia, seven years ago at our Briarly Hall home. Not just a visit but she bestowed a baby, Giovanni, on us stating his father was Lord Airdale."
"What fun you English men have when you go abroad," Vincenzi answered, laughing loudly. " You ungird your puritan loins and sow your seed."
The two men laughed conspiratorially.
Reaching one arm towards his bedside table, Alfredo took a bottle of brandy while pointing to the two shot glasses glinting in the morning sunshine. Vincenzi poured two small draughts, handing one to Alfred.
"A drop..just a drop," Alfredo, I do my doctor's morning duty."
Vincenzi's face took on a serious expression.
"Alfredo, you and your wife now have a problem. Who is Lady Laetaxia? She is your son's lover and mother of his child. Paternity ?"
"Vincenzi..you are a medicine man, a doctor, you know more about these matters..there is no way, is there? Truth to tell Giovanni has my wife's chestnut eyes and button nose. But button noses are little good in a court of law where primogeniture is supreme."
" Ah..primogenitura..primogenitura.." Vincenzi repeated.
Vincenzi sipped his draught of brandy slowly,
The clock in the Church tower struck noon. Vincenzi jumped up placing his brandy glass on the mantlepiece.
"Why what an interesting guest Eduardo has in his casa."
"So why did you come to Milan to search for your perdigiorno son?"
Alfred now felt a sense of relief being free to talk about his son.
"Because Lady Laetaxia said she was hurrying back to Milan to rest. She was very ill. She may be no longer alive."
Leaving a bottle of dark green tincture on the night table, Vincenzi prepared to leave.
"Ask Eduardo's footman to put the tincture into your back two times a day. Loosen the muscles and heal."
Alfredo heard the sound of footsteps on the marble staircase.
"Alfredo..Alfredo..are you ready for lunch." Eduardo called out." Have you seen Vincenzi today?"
"Si..si..Eduardo ," Vincenzi called out as he picked up his doctor's bag and snapped it shut.
"Come in Eduardo.."Vincenzi said. " You have an interesting house guest."
"Ah..Vincenzi..good to see you. How is the English patient today ?"
"Strong heart..beating well...but sad for his perdigiorno son..Lord Airdale..I see what I can do for Alfredo."
With that Vincenzi left the room and soon the clip-clop of his horses hooves could be heard on the cobblestones, driving away from Eduardo's family seat Castello Rinello.
"Pranzo.or as you English say luncheon or is it lunch ?.Alfredo..pranzo.." Eduardo said as he opened the window wide.
"Italian Spring air ..good for health," he said.
"Vincenzi is good company, Alfredo, good doctor, good company, good war stories. Knows many people."
Alfred had begun to feel helpless in his plight, serious back injury with no hope of searching for his son, at least for several months.
"Alfredo," Eduardo began, " I have important letters to write and will spend the evening in my study."
"Bene, bene.." Alfred replied. He knew he could not impose upon Eduardo's hospitality for much longer. He sighed deeply at his predicament.
How he wished Betsey were here to share his sorrows as she had always done. He longed to write her a letter.
A large bottle of black ink and a dark green quill, encrusted with a blue stone, stood on his bedroom table but he was unable to write or even sit upright.
He thought of how he and Lady Betsey had raised Lord Airdale to be responsible and trustworthy. Yet now in his middle years Lord Airdale had lost contact with his family. How could he find out if Giovanni, who had lived at Briarly Hall was in fact his son.
A few hours later darkness had begun to fall. Stars twinkled in the eastern sky. He dozed off. Shortly afterwards he heard voices outside his door. Butler Mario and Eduardo spoke in hushed tones. He could only make out a few words.
"Va bene...Mario," Eduardo said. "Good for Alfredo..."
Alfredo listened closely.
Eduardo knocked loudly on Alfred's door and walked in.
"Vincenzi has located your son Airdale in a Milan hospital. He is not well. He has not long to live.
He asks for his son Giovanni."
Alfred found it difficult to believe what he was hearing.
"Vincenzi says you must write him a letter asking him to declare Giovanni to be his son. There is not much time."
Next morning Alfred woke with a start. He was delirious. Vincenzi sat on a chair by his bedside, mopping his brow.
" Alfredo," Vincenzi said, " You must rest. Yesterday you worried too much about your troubles. Tomorrow is a new day."
**********************************************
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Thanks in advance if you took time to read this chapter. Trying to find my writing voice !
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and 2 member cents. Thanks in advance if you took time to read this chapter. Trying to find my writing voice !
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