Page 106 of The Seven Sisters
‘Brouilly, can’t you see I was doing you a favour by acting as your agent?’ Landowski chided him. ‘You should thank me for it. Don’t think that the real reason for your sudden eagerness to travel halfway around the world with pieces of the Christ is lost on me. And if you decide to stay in Brazil, you will need some money behind you to help you. What need will you have there of your precious sculpture when you will be close to the living, breathing person who inspired it? Let the fiancé have her immortalised in stone and worship her outer beauty. My guess is that he will never reach her soul, as you so obviously did. Personally, I think it’s rather a good swap,’ Landowski chuckled. ‘So, now we set to work.’
That night, as Laurent settled down on his pallet in theatelier, wedged between the head and an enormous finger of the Lord, he wondered what on earth he was doing.
Izabela had made it clear where her future lay. Her marriage must be imminent and would, in all likelihood, have taken place by the time he arrived in Rio. What exactly he hoped to achieve by travelling there, he wasn’t sure.
But Laurent, like all those in love, was a great believer in fate. And, as he glanced at the giant palm before shutting his eyes, he only hoped that it would take a hand.
34
Rio de Janeiro, January 1929
The morning of the wedding of Gustavo Maurício Aires Cabral to Izabela Rosa Bonifacio dawned hot and bright, with barely a cloud in the sky. Reluctantly, Bel climbed out of her maiden bed for the last time. It was early, and as she walked out of her bedroom, the only sound she could hear was the distant clatter of pans from the kitchen.
Tripping downstairs barefooted, she went to the drawing room and then into the small alcove which housed the chapel. Lighting a candle on the altar, she knelt down on the red velvet-covered prie-dieu, closed her eyes and clasped her hands together.
‘Please, Blessed Virgin, on this my wedding day, give me the strength and fortitude to go into my marriage with an open heart and be a good and loving wife to my husband. And a patient and caring daughter-in-law to his parents,’ she added with feeling. ‘Grant me healthy children and that I may count my blessings rather than dwell on my problems. Bring continued wealth to my father and restored health to my dearest mother. Amen.’
Opening her eyes, Bel glanced up at the faded face of the Madonna and blinked away tears.
‘You are a woman, so I hope you will forgive the thoughts I still carry in my heart,’ she whispered.
A few minutes later, Bel genuflected, rose and, with a deep intake of breath, left the chapel to begin what was supposed to be the happiest day of her life.
*
Technically, nothing could have gone better on the day than it did. Crowds lined the streets to watch Izabela and her father arrive at the cathedral, and cheered when she stepped out of the Rolls-Royce in the stunning Chantilly lace wedding dress that Jeanne Lanvin had designed in Paris. The magnificent cathedral was packed and as her father walked her proudly down the aisle towards Gustavo, she glanced surreptitiously through her gauzy white veil and saw many familiar faces from among the highest in the land.
An hour later, the bells rang out as Gustavo led his bride back down the aisle and outside onto the steps of the cathedral. The crowd cheered again as he handed her into the horse-drawn carriage so they could ride through the streets to the Copacabana Palace. Bel stood beside her new husband and received the three hundred guests as they filed into the huge salon.
After the many courses of the wedding breakfast, Bel and Gustavo retired to their suite to rest before the grand ball later that evening.
Once the door was shut behind them, Gustavo took her in his arms.
‘At last,’ he murmured as he burrowed his face into her neck. ‘I’m free to kiss you. Come here.’ He pulled her head towards him and kissed her ferociously, like a starving man. His hands moved to touch the thin layer of lace covering her breasts and fondled them roughly.
‘Ouch,’ she gasped. ‘You’re hurting me.’
‘Forgive me, Bel,’ Gustavo said, releasing her and regaining his composure with visible effort. ‘But you must understand how long I’ve waited. No matter,’ he said with a wink. ‘Only a few hours more until I can finally hold you naked in my arms. Can I get you a drink?’ he asked as he turned away from her and Bel shuddered involuntarily.
She watched as Gustavo went to the decanter on the side table and poured himself a large measure of brandy.
‘No thank you.’
‘Perhaps that’s wise. I wouldn’t want your senses dulled for tonight.’ He grinned at her and raised his glass. ‘To my wife, my beautiful wife,’ he added as he drained the brandy in one gulp.
Bel had noticed on the few times she had accompanied Gustavo to social events that he seemed to enjoy alcohol. On occasion, she had thought him a little drunk by the time the evening was finished.
‘And I must tell you that I’ve bought you a very special wedding gift,’ he continued. ‘Sadly, it hasn’t arrived yet, but it is due to be here by the time we return from our honeymoon. So,’ he asked her, ‘would you like me to help you out of that gown so you can take a rest?’
Bel glanced longingly at the enormous double bed in the suite. Her feet, stuck as they were in a pair of high-heeled satin shoes – which had meant that with her tiara and hair piled up on her head she had stood three inches taller than her bridegroom at the altar – were hurting her. Not to mention the uncomfortable corset, which she’d been tightly strapped into this morning by Loen, underneath the lace. But the thought of Gustavo releasing her from it with his pale, thin fingers was not an appealing option.
‘I’m going to the bathroom,’ she announced, blushing with embarrassment.
Gustavo nodded, having just poured himself another brandy.
Bel walked into the opulent mirrored room and sat down gratefully in a chair. She closed her eyes, and pondered on the ridiculousness of the fact that a ring on her finger and a few short sentences could change her life so profoundly.
The contrast between her unmarried feminine self, whose virtue must be protected at all costs from any predatory male, and the woman who now, only hours later, was supposed to enter a bedroom alone with a man and perform the most intimate acts, verged on the ridiculous. She looked up at her reflection in the mirror and sighed.
