Page 43 of The Seven Sisters
After that, Bel knew that she’d be forced into the best marriage her father could find her. And the last vestiges of the freedom she had left would be gone forever.
An hour later, a familiartap-tappingat the door alerted her to the presence of Loen.
‘Good morning, Senhorita Bel. Is it not a beautiful one?’ her maid asked as she entered the room.
‘No,’ Bel answered bad-temperedly.
‘Come, you must get up and dress. You have a very busy day.’
‘Do I?’ Bel feigned ignorance, knowing full well what obligations her waking hours contained.
‘Now,minha pequena, don’t play games with me,’ Loen warned, reverting as she often did in private to the pet name she’d given Bel as a child. ‘You know as well as I do that you have your piano lesson at ten o’clock, then your French tutor arrives. And this afternoon, Madame Duchaine arrives for the last fitting of your ballgown.’
Bel closed her eyes and pretended not to hear.
Undeterred, Loen walked over to the bed and shook her shoulder gently. ‘What is wrong with you? In only a week’s time you will be eighteen and your father has organised you a wonderful party. Everyone in Rio will be there! Are you not excited?’
Bel did not respond.
‘What do you wish to wear today? The cream or the blue?’ persisted Loen.
‘I don’t care!’
Loen calmly went to the closet and drawers, then laid out her own choice of clothes on the end of Bel’s bed.
Reluctantly, Bel roused herself and sat up. ‘Forgive me, Loen. I’m sad because asaguicame in this morning and stole my hairbrush, a gift from my grandmother. I know Mãe will be angry with me for leaving my shutters open again.’
‘No!’ Loen was horrified. ‘Your beautiful mother-of-pearl hairbrush gone to the monkeys in the jungle. How many times have you been told to keep the shutters closed at night?’
‘Many,’ agreed Bel companionably.
‘I will tell the gardeners to search the grounds. They may find it yet.’
‘Thank you,’ Bel said as she lifted her arms to help Loen ease her nightgown from her body.
*
Over breakfast, Antonio Bonifacio was studying the invitation list to his daughter’s party at the Copacabana Palace. ‘Senhora Santos has indeed gathered the great and the good, and most of them have accepted,’ Antonio commented with satisfaction. ‘Although not the Carvalho Gomes family, nor the Ribeiros Barcellos. They are sad but they are busy elsewhere.’ Antonio raised an eyebrow.
‘Well, they do not know what they will miss.’ Carla put a comforting hand on her husband’s shoulder, knowing that these were two of the most important families in Rio. ‘It will be talked of all over town, and they will hear of it, I’m sure.’
‘I hope so,’ Antonio grunted. ‘It has cost enough. And you, myprincesa, will be at the centre of it all.’
‘Yes, Papa. I am very grateful.’
‘Bel, you know you must not call me “Papa”. I am “Pai”,’ Antonio chided her.
‘Sorry, Pai, it’s hard to change the habit of a lifetime.’
‘So.’ Antonio folded his newspaper neatly and stood up, nodding a goodbye to his wife and daughter. ‘I’m off to the office to do the work that will pay for it all.’
Bel’s eyes followed her father as he strode from the room and she thought how handsome he still was, with his tall, elegant physique and his full mane of dark hair, only slightly greying at the temples.
‘Pai is so tense,’ Bel sighed to her mother. ‘Is he worried about the party, do you think?’
‘Bel, your father is always tense. Whether it’s over the yield of coffee beans on one of our farms or your party, he will always find something to worry about. It is just . . . who he is,’ Carla shrugged. ‘Now, I must go too. I’m meeting Senhora Santos here this morning to go through the final preparations for the reception at the Copacabana Palace. She will want you to join us after your piano and French lessons to go through the guest list.’
‘But Mãe, I can already recite it front to back and upside down,’ Bel groaned.
