“Devi esser mia.” The words tumbled out of his lips like a prayer he couldn’t stop. I pulled back sharply; not being familiar with Italian, I had no idea what he’d said. His face grew pink with embarrassment.
I was suddenly acutely aware of where I was and who I was with. I looked at Hector and Manuela in turn. Hector was standing up in front of his chair, looking down at us. Manuela stood in the kitchen, her hand over her mouth. I felt a rush of embarrassment as I looked back at Garibaldi’s hopeful face. Feeling like I had made a fool of myself, I ran.
I raced up the stairs and flung myself onto Manuela and Hector’s bed. I wanted to hide away. How could I have been so foolish? What was the matter with me? I closed my eyes, trying to slow my rapidly beating heart. Manuela slipped quietly into the room, placing a tender hand on my back.
“Anna?” she asked.
“I am such a fool,” I said into her pillow. “I don’t know what came over me.”
Manuela laughed softly. “My friend, you have the sickness.”
“The sickness?” I asked, sitting up.
“Yes, it’s called love.” Her eyes sparkled with her smile. She reached out to feel my forehead and cheeks before making a tsking noise. “And by the looks of it, you have it bad.”
I grabbed her hand as she pulled it away. “Manuela, you speak Italian, don’t you?”
“Just a little.”
“Do you know what Garibaldi said?”
Manuela smiled mischievously. “‘You must be mine.’” She patted my arm. “I’ll leave you to collect yourself.”
I sat in the bedroom, trying to work up the courage to go back down the stairs. I took my time, smoothing my skirt and tucking back my hair as the pounding in my heart subsided. I scurried down the stairs back to Manuela, hoping that I wasn’t seen. She smiled at me as she piled a tray with mate and pastries. Before I could protest, she shoved the tray into my arms, turning me toward the parlor.
Senhor Garibaldi’s eyes burned a hole into me as I set the silver tea tray on the simple wooden table that sat in the center of the parlor. I took my seat on the burgundy couch, my back rigid with my ankles firmly crossed. With Hector to my right, I was as far from Garibaldi as I could manage. He sat in one of the twin armchairs that matched the sofa. Together the three of us waited for Manuela to enter the parlor before we began the tea service.
Manuela entered with a tray full of small plates and biscoitos de maizena. She set the tray down before beginning the mate serving ritual. The silver-rimmed gourd she held in the palm of her hand had an intricate leaf pattern carved into it. After scooping the tea into the hollowed-out inside, she shook it, a process as important as the tea itself. Gently, Manuela poured the water into the gourd. She took a sip of the tea from the silver bombilla straw before spitting the first bitter dregs into the fireplace. When Manuela was satisfied with the taste and temperature, she passed the gourd to her husband.
“May I offer you a cookie, Senhora de Jesus?” Garibaldi held out one of the blue-trimmed plates to me. The sugar cookies looked innocent enough sitting there. However, as I looked into the hopeful face of the man before me, I felt that they were agents in an evil plot.
Manuela’s head snapped up. A guest, and a man at that, serving during the tea service was a grave misstep. I could feel the blush creep up my neck all over again.
Taking the plate from him so as not to cause further embarrassment, I mumbled, “Obrigada, senhor.” He released the plate gently, brushing his fingers against mine. His touch sent a sharp jolt of energy up my arm. “And please, call me Anna.”
“Anna.” The sound of my name coming from his lips caused heat to rise.
Hector took a sip of the mate and passed it to Senhor Garibaldi as they resumed their discussion of Laguna’s politics. I did my best to keep my nerves under control as I tried to hide the emotions that flowed through me like a rushing river. All the while, I chastised myself for my foolishness.
“How do you like Laguna, Senhor Garibaldi?” Manuela asked. “I’m sure it’s much different from your home in Italy.”
“Oh, I find Laguna to be quite lovely,” he said. “Perhaps the most beautiful town in all of South America.” He looked at me over the rim of the communal gourd as he said the words. “Senhora Oliveira, this mate is unlike anything I have tasted. What did you do differently?”
“I added dried oranges. They’re a favorite of Anna’s.”
“Is that so?” He passed the gourd to me. “I believe it will be a favorite of mine now as well.”
I tried to keep the blush from spreading anew as I took the gourd from him. It was next to impossible not to think about our lips being in the same place, on the same straw.
Throughout our conversation I attempted to resist every urge to look at him. Failing, I slyly spied him out of the corner of my eye. His gaze quickly moved away and back to our hosts.
“Tell me, Anna, are you at all interested in politics?” Garibaldi asked. I met his chocolate eyes for the first time that evening. His gaze held me, momentarily causing me to forget how to form words.
“Anna had the most interesting perspective on the rebellion. Go ahead and share it,” Manuela said with a smile.
I tried to brush off my friend’s compliment with a wave of my hand. “No, really, it’s nothing, I’m not a politician like the men.”
“Please, I would like to hear what you have to say.” His face looked hopeful as he waited for me to speak.
“A handful of gentlemen became impetuous children because the king isn’t giving them their way.” I sipped my tea, trying to collect my thoughts before going on. “There are justifiable reasons to be angry, but is it truly enough to break away from the rest of Brazil?”
“But can’t you say that this is an opportunity for the people of Santa Catarina to gain a better station in life?” Garibaldi responded.
“Is it? This is Rio Grande do Sul’s war. Not ours. What will happen to Santa Catarina when the war is over? We can’t risk taking on the burdens of Rio Grande do Sul.”
He leaned back in his chair. A small smile played on his lips. “Tell me, Anna, what would you have Santa Catarina do? Your state is caught in the middle between Imperialist Brazil and her brothers of Rio Grande do Sul.”
“If we are to enter into war, we need to guarantee that our people’s interests will be seen to. If the people of Santa Catarina don’t see that there is something in it for them, they will never support your cause.”
“And therein lies our dilemma!” Garibaldi exclaimed. “We are trying to convince the people of Santa Catarina that what we propose is truly in their best interest. If only I had you by my side. As one of my advisors.” A thrill went down my spine at the thought of being by his side. He smiled at me, soft and shy at first, but broader as I met his gaze. What was it about this man that drew me in? For someone who preferred to be alone, I couldn’t explain why I suddenly wanted the attention of the strange foreigner.
Garibaldi stood up. “If you will excuse me. I have business matters to attend to.” He bowed to Manuela and me in turn before striding to the front hallway. We followed him, the four of us crammed in the narrow hall, Garibaldi and Hector in front, Maria and I behind them. As he reached the door he turned to Manuela and me. “If either of you ladies would be interested, I could arrange for a tour of the ship.”