Chapter Fourteen

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"Not at all, we've all been having a delightful time here with your gracious wife. And how good it is too see you! You are feeling better today, I trust?"

"Yes, yes, thank you, I feel much better. I can't apologize enough for showing up at your house in such foul health the other night. Ah, and how good it is to see you again, señorita," he said, taking Veronica's hand to his lips.

The girl simply smiled in kind. It was all she could do without risking an error in speech.

"Ah, you have done me a great honor, my dear, convincing my young man here to appreciate music in just one night. I have labored for almost decades to hear him utter such words."

Dídac blushed at his father's playful cruelty, though he would not let the smile fall from his face.

"Ah, but you will have another opportunity to better my boy after dinner? The butler has informed me that dinner will be served in five minutes."

It proved to be more than ten minutes that Dídac was allowed to spend with her before the old man called them all for dinner. They journeyed to the dining room, a vast chamber devoid of the usual Catalonian flavor, but structured more like a Venetian palazzo. High, squarely gilded ceilings with huge frescoes of angels in sheer white robes; it mirrored very closely the fantasy of the Marquesa's music room at the Castell de Amontoní.

Doña de Ferrero took her place near the center of her table and instructed the Marquesa and her husband to the other side, allowing Veronica and her son to sit on either side of her, establishing what was really two separate groups facing each other. This provided her the opportunity to speak with the girl without the ears of her aunt so closely tuned to her words.

Don Joaquim de Ferrero was not to be outdone when it came to charming his guests. He made certain that the Marquesa had not the slightest opportunity to feel unappreciated. He showered her with praise over the splendidness of her ball and made no pretense of disguising his appreciation for her niece and how fond of the girl his son had already become.

Dídac remained silent throughout most of the conversation between his father and the Marquesa. He managed the courteous motions to pretend he was not staring at her from across the table, and he tried desperately not to glance past his mother to Veronica. The fear of somehow looking over and not being able to pry his eyes off the girl without seeming impolite or improper was far too great. Both youths contained themselves in a world of careful steps that all forewarned of impending disaster.

"His mother tells us that your son is a great fan of literature, Don de Ferrero?" Marcelina's question broke the boy's daydream.

"Ah, yes, there seems to be nothing that can be done to evict him from my office. I had always hoped he would grow out of his obsession with books. I have always thought it unnatural. A young man of his age should be more concerned with the duties of manhood rather than of the pastimes of youth."

Immediately, Dídac turned to his father in abject horror, which the Marquesa could not help but notice from the corner of her eye.

"Oh, I don't know that there is anything so terribly manly about giving up books," she smiled at him, drawing a momentary look of embarrassed but desperate love out of the boy's consuming anger.

"Don't misunderstand me, my lady," his father answered. "I don't mean to say that literature does not play an important role in a young man's education. But Dídac does not concentrate on any particular field of study with his obsession. He reads simply for the mere act of reading. He reads literature of all kinds, but never confines the focus of his studies toward any specific direction. On and on he reads fictions, these modern novels, and studies useless matters like science and foreign theology. It is not good for him to be so involved with the religions of other peoples; it is difficult enough to persuade him to escort his mother to Sunday mass!"

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