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She straightens with a smile. “Well, then.” After drying her hands on a kitchen towel, she drops it on the counter. “Why don’t I show you to your room?”
“I’ll help you tidy up first.”
“Nonsense.” She marches out ahead of me, her blond braid swinging between her shoulder blades. “You had an eventful time with the wedding, not to mention a long day of traveling.” She glances over her shoulder. “Of course, it’s your house, and you’re free to do whatever you like. I’m sure you have lots of instructions for me. We can talk about that tomorrow when you’re rested.” In the stillness of the house, our steps sound loud on the polished yellow stone floor. “We can start with the menu for the week if you like, unless you prefer to do your own cooking like the late Mrs. Russo.” We go up a staircase with a red carpet runner. “You don’t have to worry. I’m a fast learner.” She stops on the landing. “I’m good at mastering new recipes.”
I admit a little sheepishly, “I haven’t done much cooking, to be honest. My parents—” I quickly rectify, “My mom has a housekeeper who’s also a wonderful cook, and I mostly lived on ready-made meals when I moved out.”
“That’s what I’m here for,” she says, patting my arm. “Don’t worry about a thing. We’ll sort it out together.”
I offer her a grateful smile.
She waves a hand toward the left. “The west wing is where Mr. Russo’s parents resided.” She crosses herself. “Bless their souls. Mrs. Russo didn’t like to be on the ocean side because of the breeze coming from the sea. She preferred the rooms looking out over the vineyard.”
Guilt tightens my stomach at the mention of Angelo’s late mother.
“You and Mr. Russo are in the east wing,” Heidi continues.
She walks briskly down a broad hallway. I follow behind, taking in the paintings that depict wild cliffs and tranquil beaches or dense forests and snow-capped mountains.
I point at one of the paintings. “Are these scenes from around here?”
“They’re all landscapes from the property. They’re beautiful, aren’t they?”
The house is stunning, but I had no idea the surroundings are so diverse and gorgeous. “How big is it?”
“The property?” She pauses in front of the second-last door on the right. “I don’t know exactly over how many hectares it stretches, but it’s vast. The farthest border must be about twenty kilometers away.” She opens the door. “This is your bedroom.”
I enter the large space that’s furnished with a king size bed and a small sitting area arranged around a fireplace. Sliding doors give access to a balcony. The night beyond the doors is dark, but I can make out the long line of lights running down to the beach and the water in the distance.
While Heidi fluffs out the pillows and turns the bedcovers down, I take in the rest of my new domain. The room is decorated in neutral colors. A writing desk and an antique armoire stand against the wall opposite the sliding doors. I stop dead as my gaze lands on the dress that hangs against the armoire, its hem sweeping the floor.
A wedding dress.
The classical cut with thin shoulder straps, a plunging V-neckline, and a narrow skirt is striking in its simplicity. The glittery, pure-white fabric adds texture and richness to the design. It’s without a doubt the most beautiful dress I’ve seen.
“It’s lovely, isn’t it?” Heidi asks in a wistful voice behind me.
Startled, I look over my shoulder to catch her studying the dress with a sad light in her eyes.
“I couldn’t get it over my heart to put it away,” she says, sounding far-off. “Mrs. Russo had it made for you.”
“She did?” I ask, simultaneously surprised and moved.
“For the big day. Adeline was so excited about it. The dress, I mean. The wedding also, but I still remember how she ran downstairs to tell Mr. Russo—Angelo—how perfect the gown was.” She smiles, focusing on a spot on the wall with a non-seeing gaze. “Mrs. Russo warned her not to spoil the surprise for her brother. He wasn’t supposed to know what the dress looked like. It was right before…” She trails off, getting lost in her own thoughts, and then shakes her head as if trying to dislodge the memory. “Never mind.”
The dress draws my gaze again. I can’t look away from it. I can’t stop thinking about Angelo’s mother and sister, about their fates.
“It’s terrible what happened,” Heidi says, more sadness spilling into her tone. “Such a tragedy.”
In my mind’s eye, I see Angelo’s mother telling her daughter it’s bad luck for the groom to see the dress before the wedding. It’s something my mom would say, something shedidsay when I got ready to marry Colin. It already feels so long ago.
Tearing my gaze away from the stunning creation, I turn to look at Heidi. I can’t help myself from asking, “Did Angelo see it?”
“The dress?” Heidi shakes her head again. “After what happened, he just locked everything up, left their rooms exactly like that. He couldn’t go in there. Wouldn’t let me. The dress was in Mrs. Russo’s workroom. I just thought you deserved to see it.”
Not sure what to say to that, I remain quiet.
“Anyway,” she says, wiggling her shoulders. “I aired your room and put sheets on the bed.” She points at a door in the corner. “Your suitcase is in the dressing room.” Motioning at another door on the side of the bed, she continues, “That one gives access to Mr. Russo’s room.”
