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Her mother frowned as she shook her head. “You have spent your life always worrying about other people. Your protector knew what he was getting into when he made you his mistress. He should have offered to take care of you or at least the baby.”
“I wasn’t his mistress. We were lovers with no ties that bound us.”
Angelina stood and paced the room. “If you were going to take after me you should have paid more attention. A man needs to pay for your favors. He needs to set you up in a proper house with servants and dresses.”
“Mother, I didn’t want those things from him.”
Angelina blew out a long breath that waved her black hair away from her face. “You love him, don’t you?”
Tears blinded Sophie as she nodded. “I tried so hard not to, Mother.”
“Did you try to read him to see if he loved you?”
“I tried, Mother.” Sophie explained how she only saw him in her vision after she was knocked unconscious by the gondola. “I went to bed with him because I assumed he was the one for me.”
“But, Sophie,” Angelina started then paused. “If you are like me, you cannot read yourself.”
“What?”
“I have never been able to read myself. I always assumed it was just the way God made me. He wanted me to read others but not have an advantage on my own life.”
“Then why did I see him after I fell into the canal?”
Angelina paused for a long moment before replying. “You said you hit your head on the gondola. Maybe that had something to do with it. Perhaps the injury allowed you to see your own future for a short time until your mind healed.”
“Then why couldn’t I read Nicholas? I could sometimes read his thoughts but when he wanted to find his match, I could not read him. And then there’s Lady Cantwell . . .”
“Who is she?”
Sophie sighed and told her about her lack of visions with Lady Cantwell and her subsequent death.
“Darling, there are several things I’ve learned over the years about my visions. Perhaps it’s time you are taught the same lessons.”
“What lessons?”
“First, I have never been able to know for certain when someone is going to die. I’ve had people I read hours before their death and could still read them and then others, like this Lady Cantwell, where I see nothing for a week or two before their death.”
Sophie rubbed her temples to ward off the imminent headache. “What other lessons are you willing to impart?”
Angelina laughed softly. “You cannot read yourself. And you cannot read your true love’s future if it involves you.”
“Nicholas is my match?”
“I think your heart already knows that answer, my dear. I think it’s your head that can’t quite accept him as your match.”
Oh, God, she had made such a mess out of her life.
Sophie rose and walked to the window, letting her mother’s words sink in. She pushed open the wood shutter allowing the heat of the afternoon to filter into the room. Staring down at the small Campo Santa Marina, she wondered if her mother was right.
She turned away from the window and back to her mother. “Can you read me?”
“Does it matter?” Her mother sipped her tea with a secret smile.
“What do you mean?”
“What does your heart tell you?”
Sophie fisted her hands. “You taught me not to trust my heart!”
