Page 22 of The Florence Letter: Absolutely spellbinding and page-turning dual narrative fiction

All week, my thoughts were fully occupied with Luca and our next meeting. Despite having seen the chemistry he had with Lady Violet that afternoon, I believed we would continue our romance. I’d think about him when waking up in the morning and before falling asleep each night. Daydreaming about Luca gave me an escape from reality. Lady Violet spent most mornings with him at the gamekeeper’s cottage, working on his portrait. The two of them spending so much time in each other’s company in such a confined space did not bear thinking about. All I could do was push any jealous feelings away and fill my time with organising and mending Lady Violet’s clothes. I counted down the days until my next meeting with Luca by the river. Would he bring egg sandwiches again or would Mrs Marshall use another filling? Would he suggest meeting the following Sunday, perhaps somewhere quieter? What else could he tell me about the magical place called Florence? For I longed to know every last detail about his life and where he was from, language barrier permitting.

On Saturday morning when I entered the laundry room, I had a spring in my step because the next day I’d see Luca again. Sam was applying polish to a pair of boots and Elsie was folding sheets and placing them into a basket. They stopped talking as soon as they saw me. It was clear they’d been gossiping.

‘Did you get the message?’ Elsie said.

Had Luca sent another note?

‘What message?’ I said.

‘Mrs Willis said milady wanted you to take her more paints.’

‘Oh, did she? Which colours?’

‘How should I know?’ Elsie said, rolling her eyes and looking at Sam.

‘All right, thank you, Elsie,’ I said.

Leaving the laundry room, I went upstairs to Lady Violet’s boudoir, where a drawer in her writing table contained the tubes I’d bought in the village the previous week. I selected all of the primary colours and black and white. Then I went to fetch my coat from the servants’ cloakroom, slipped the tubes of paint into the pockets and fastened the buttons right to the top. The temperature had dropped in recent days, for it was almost October. Before long there would be ice and frost to contend with, and undoubtedly snow.

It was a beautiful day, and the sky was a deep blue with wisps of cloud. A formation of Hun planes passed over and I put my hands over my ears. I was so tired of it all. Entering the bluebell woods, I felt for the tubes of paint in my coat pocket to check they were still there and followed the path to the cottage. Smoke came from the chimney, and I inhaled the scent of burning wood. On reaching the door I was about to knock when, through the window, I saw Lady Violet and Luca, without their clothes, on the chaise longue. They were kissing intensely, and he lay on top of her, his hands running through her hair. She’d taken out the plait I’d spent some time creating that morning, and her golden locks hung loosely around her shoulders. Putting a hand to my mouth, I gasped. The sight of them together like this shocked me to the core. Not only had Luca said he loved me less than a week earlier, but also Lady Violet, a countess, no less, was committing the act of adultery – and with an Italian POW. What was she thinking? I dreaded to think what action the earl might take if he discovered their affair. Deep down, I’d known this was going to happen, but I had been in denial. I scolded myself for being so deluded. A man like Luca could never love a girl like me.

She wrapped her arms round his neck, pulling him to her, and he ran those beautiful hands up and down the length of her body and they kissed with so much passion, their bodies melting into each other, as they became one. How I wanted to be in her place. Why should Lady Violet have him when she already had an earl for a husband? Fury consumed me right there and then, and I had to stop myself from banging on the door, from interrupting their lovemaking. I wanted to shout out all the thoughts rushing through my mind. How dare you both do this. I thought you loved me, Luca. What are you thinking, milady? I considered tapping gently on the door instead, pretending I hadn’t seen what they were doing. Would Lady Violet put on her clothes and come to the door as if nothing untoward were going on?

Then a thought occurred to me. Had the message from Elsie been genuine, or did she want me to catch Lady Violet and Luca together? What if Lady Violet had asked for the paints and I was scolded for not bringing them? Would she know I’d been there and seen them? Would she care if I had?

Deciding that I could not allow either of them to be aware of my discovery, I walked away from the gamekeeper’s cottage, away from the man I loved as he made love to my mistress. How could I continue to work for Lady Violet with this newfound knowledge? I needed to tell someone, to lessen the pain, but who? I wouldn’t want Tom to know about my feelings for Luca and, as Lady Violet’s employee, I could not divulge her secret. If only I had a trustworthy friend. Here in Gatley, there was no one to confide in. My only option was to pour any thoughts into my diary when returning to the house. As I closed the gate to the woods and made my way back towards the house, tears flowed down my face so freely they blurred my vision, and I used the sleeve of my coat to brush them away. I stopped by the lake, and the sight of the water was calming. Sitting on a bench, I took a few deep breaths in order to pull myself together. There was no way I’d give Elsie the satisfaction of seeing me in such a state.

Back at the house, I went upstairs to wash my face before returning to the laundry room. Elsie was at the sink, scrubbing an item of clothing with a bar of soap, a look on her face as if butter wouldn’t melt. I expected she’d been anticipating my return, eager to see my reaction.

Sam stood beside her. Elsie nudged him and giggled and, doing all I could to ignore her, I undid the rope on the laundry rack and lowered it to remove Lady Violet’s blouse. At the ironing table, I pressed the creases out of the fabric. Elsie looked over at me and whispered into Sam’s ear. He looked away and I could tell he felt uncomfortable about being part of her attempt to upset me.

‘Do you have something to say to me, Elsie?’

‘Not at all,’ she said.

‘I am rather tired of this childish behaviour. If you have something to say, then say it.’

‘All right,’ she said. ‘I just wondered if you saw anything interesting when you took the paints down to the cottage in the woods, that’s all.’ She shrugged as if she were the most innocent person in all the world.

‘What do you mean?’ I said.

‘Well, a little bird told me that her ladyship is having it orf’ – she mimicked an upper-class accent – ‘with the POW, would you believe it?’

Now torn between my feelings for Luca and protecting my mistress, I had to put my fury and hurt to one side and defend Lady Violet.

‘I have no idea what you are referring to,’ I said.

‘Everyone knows they’re at it. Sam saw them through the window when he was taking down the firewood.’ She hung up the apron she’d been washing. ‘And you had no idea, did you? What kind of lady’s maid are you, not knowing what your mistress gets up to?’

Sighing, I turned the blouse over to press the other side.

‘Didn’t you have a thing for him, Margaret? Can’t be nice for you, being cast aside like that. And for a countess too.’

Cackling to herself, she opened the door, then closed it firmly behind her as she left the room.

‘I’m sorry, Mags,’ Sam said. ‘I could tell you were in love with him.’

‘I can’t believe she’d commit adultery,’ I said, still not admitting to what I’d seen as it was best not to.

‘His lordship has a mistress in London, so she probably doesn’t think she’s doing anything wrong.’

‘Oh, I see,’ I said.

Sam left the room and there I was, all alone, tasked with ironing a blouse belonging to the woman who’d taken the man I loved away from me, tears once again streaming down my face.