the-lady-oneill:
They went to Milan often, she and Hugh. This time, it was to see the Recchis. He’d been invited by Eduardo Sr.’s son, Tancredi, to a business dinner. Hugh never missed an opportunity to network.
Ultana spoke Italian. Naturally, he brought her. No need for a translator, he’d said, you love Milan.
She did.
She didn’t mind the party, either. It was beautiful. Sig.ra Recchi was a friend of Ultana’s mother and had kept her busy much of the night, asking all sorts of questions, leaving Hugh at the mercy of the little Italian he spoke and the backup translator they’d brought.
You have to meet my daughter-in-law. You’re the same age! You’ll love her.
Sig.ra Recchi had a way of saying things that sounded as if she was trying to sell a particularly expensive painting. Ultana didn’t mind. Even if was trying to get Ultana more involved with the Recchis, and, thus get the Recchis more involved with Hugh– at least this was an excuse to be away from all the mind- numbing business talk in the dining room.
Emma, this is Ultana O’Neill.
Ultana had to smile when she was introduced as a very important politician’s wife.
Sig.ra Recchi introduced her daughter-in-law as Emma. The other woman was taller than Ultana and strikingly beautiful, she thought. But her smile was shy, and that put Ultana more at ease.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” she began in Italian, taking the other woman’s hand. “Rori speaks very highly of you.”
She hated that Rori was hovering. The women was full of nervous political energy, watching Emma’s every move. Emma wished she’d go away.
It was a surprise when Ultana answered in near-perfect Italian. Emma’s face shifted from interest, to shock, and then pleasure. She blushed at the compliment, glanced nervously at Rori, and then shifted in her seat.
“Thank you. Tancredi talks a lot of your husband. I’ve never been to Ireland. I’d love to go.”
“--Perhaps my son will take you someday. Hugh and Ultana have a marvelous art collection themselves,” Rori said, butting in.
Emma’s smile was very polite. She nodded quietly, picking at the skin of her hands. She had no idea how to continue the conversation. Few people ever talked to her, and when it was just her and the wives, she liked to remain quiet-- where her lingering accent wouldn’t be noticed.
