Helena would say only that the gentleman in question was “an old friend; a very old and dear friend.”
Very old, or a friend for a very long time? said Mary.
Yes, said Helena inscrutably, continuing, he is a widower.
Lisa smiled encouragingly. You look hot.
I think that is because I am allergic to champagne, said Mary, feeling dizzy.
You haven’t had any champagne, said Lisa. Now stop stalling, he’ll be here any minute.
Vincent, said Helena suddenly, reaching for him as he seemed to simply materialize beside her chair. Lisa hadn’t been aware that he’d returned to Helena’s room, and wondered how long he’d been there, quietly taking them all in.
Yes, mother, said Vincent. I am here.
A man’s opinion, please, said Helena, indicating Mary.
If he felt uncomfortable with the three women staring at him expectantly, Vincent did not show it. He studied Mary thoughtfully.
A Goddess, he said finally.
Oh surely not, said Mary, laughing. Then, …really?
‘Venus Rising From the Sea’ was the idea, said Lisa.
I see that, said Vincent softly.
Mary cleared her throat. But with clothes on.
You could not be more lovely, Mary. As his gaze was not at all disapproving, Mary was not exactly sure why she blushed.
It’s… her voice trailed. I mean, thank you. Thank you all! It’s just, it’s just been a very long time, since I…
She didn’t finish.
The three of them regarded her for another long moment.
Hmmm, said Lisa. It needs something.
What? said Mary, nervously turning back to the long mirror.
This, said Helena, and she took off one of her necklaces, a long rope of baroque pearls braided with coral and gold coins. Leaning forward from the depths of her velvet chair, she held the glowing treasure out to Lisa.
It looks like it’s from a shipwreck at the bottom of the sea, said Mary.
It is, said Helena.
At full length it fell nearly to Mary’s knees under the shimmering silk of the Pucci gown and Lisa deftly gathered it up and looped twice again around Mary’s neck.
I wore this gown in a shoot for Italian Vogue in… 1974? mused Helena. Around that time I think, yes. I believe we are all very glad I did not part with it.
Indeed, said Vincent. Then, to Mary, shall we? And he offered her his arm.
Mary gave a small laugh but didn’t move.
Vincent reached for her hand. What is it, Mary?
How do I address him? said Mary. I’ve never met a Count before.
You can call him Ottavio, answered Helena. For that is his name. And we should not keep him waiting much longer.