The Glassblower of Murano - Marina Fiorato [101]
`No, Padre,' Leonora interrupted with a rush, `I truly love him. His riches mean nothing to me. Do not forget that when he first came to Venice he was merely a younger son, and he came as a student of history, anxious to find the Venetian branch of his family. Only now after the death of his brother and father, has he assumed the riches that were never his before. I love him - I loved him long before his inheritance. He is kind and good and loving. He wishes to settle here in Venice and bring up his children in the Martin name. I hope ... you will still be my confessor.'
`Cara mia, of course I will. These old eyes would miss you too much, else.' The priest sighed and smiled, his mind at rest. Corradino would be glad that his daughter was to be happily matched. Now he must come to the burden of his visit. `Leonora, do you remember your father?'
'Of course I remember him. Very fondly, for all that he left me never to return.' She clasped the glass heart. 'He gave me this, and I have worn it always as he said. Why do you speak of him now? No man ever heard from him again.
Padre Tommaso clasped his hands. `That is not entirely true. He returned here, just once, and gave me something for you.'
The girl stood, straight as a willow wand, her green eyes wide. 'He came back? When? Is he still alive?'
'Leonora. No. This was many years ago, you were still a child. Only now that you are a woman, might you be able to understand.'
'Understand what? What did he leave for me?'
'He left enough gold for your education, and a handsome dowry. And ... this.' The gnarled old hand proffered the vellum notebook. 'Your father was a genius. But he was not without sin. Great sin. Read this, and form your own mind. But do not neglect to read the final pages. I will leave you for a moment.
Padre Tommaso retired into the next chamber, and once there he prayed too. Leonora took so long that he was afraid for the patience of the congregation downstairs in the church. He was also afraid he had taken the wrong course in showing her the book. But at last the door opened and she came out. Tears had turned her eyes to glass.
`My child!' The Padre was distraught. `I was wrong to have shown you.'
Leonora fell into his arms and clasped his frail body tightly. `Oh, no, Father, no.You were right. Don't you see? Now I can forgive him.'
As Padre Tommaso led Leonora Manin down the aisle of Santa Maria della Pieta, the place that had been her home for one and twenty years, the orphaned girls sang with especial beauty. It seemed to the priest that today they attained divinity in their music, but perhaps it was the more earthly longing - that they too might one day make a match like this - that gave wings to their song. Lorenzo Visconti-Manin stood at the altar in magnificent cloth of gold, and Padre Tommaso felt a misgiving at the man's grandeur until the groom turned to see his bride and his eyes were also wet with tears. As the priest surrendered Leonora to her husband, the couple did not join hands as was customary. With a shared smile and in a practised ritual that Padre Tommaso did not understand, they reached out their right hands and, starlike, placed fingertip to fingertip, thumb to thumb.
CHAPTER 43
At the Do Mori
When Salvatore Navarro went to the Cantina Do Mori to receive a commission, and the voice of the one that greeted him was French and not Venetian, he was not surprised. Only very, very frightened. He was not surprised because They had warned him that this may come to pass. All he could think of was Corradino Manin's body, falling forward into the chilled waters of the canal, a glass blade in his