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When Daddy Hurts

TL Travis

Sapphire Publishing
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used
fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

Copyright 2023 by TL Travis

All rights reserved, including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form.

Published by Sapphire Publishing

Cover Art by Covers by Jo

Formatting by TL Travis

Photographer:

Eric Taylor Guilmette

www.instagram.com/etfitnesscoach

Models: Kevin R. Davis & Christopher John

www.instagram.com/c2correia

www.instagram.com/kevinrdavis.official

Issued 2023

This book is licensed to the original purchaser only. Duplication or distribution via any means is illegal and a violation of International
Copyright Law, subject to criminal prosecution and upon conviction, fines and/or imprisonment. This eBook cannot be legally loaned or
given to others. No part of this eBook can be shared or reproduced without the express permission of the publisher
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used
fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

Copyright 2023 by TL Travis

All rights reserved, including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form.

Published by Sapphire Publishing

Cover Art by Covers by Jo

Formatting by TL Travis

Photographer:

Eric Taylor Guilmette

www.instagram.com/etfitnesscoach

Models: Kevin R. Davis & Christopher John

www.instagram.com/c2correia

www.instagram.com/kevinrdavis.official

Issued 2023

This book is licensed to the original purchaser only. Duplication or distribution via any means is illegal and a violation of International
Copyright Law, subject to criminal prosecution and upon conviction, fines and/or imprisonment. This eBook cannot be legally loaned or
given to others. No part of this eBook can be shared or reproduced without the express permission of the publisher
 Contents

1. Chapter One
2. Chapter Two
3. Chapter Three
4. Chapter Four

5. Chapter Five

6. Chapter Six

7. Chapter Seven

8. Chapter Eight

9. Chapter Nine

10. Chapter Ten

11. Chapter Eleven

12. Chapter Twelve

13. Chapter Thirteen

14. Chapter Fourteen

15. Chapter Fifteen

16. Chapter Sixteen

17. Chapter Seventeen

18. Epilogue

About Author
Other books by TL Travis:
16. Chapter Sixteen

17. Chapter Seventeen

18. Epilogue

About Author
Other books by TL Travis:
 Chapter One
Camden

“No, that can’t be,” I heard Daddy say from the other room. I rolled my eyes at the silliness and
kept playing with my cars. Probably someone who had no idea how to read the report Daddy did for
them. Besides, didn’t they know Daddy was off today? It was likely something that could wait until
Monday.
Vroom-vroom.
The engines roared as the cars raced along the track Daddy set up for me earlier. I loved Sundays.
Daddy called them lazy Sundays. Even though he worked from home, Sundays were the one day of the
week that Daddy was all mine, which was why I got huffy when his phone rang. I know, silly Cammy.
“Yes, of course,” Daddy sniffled. “We’ll be on the next plane out.”
Next plane out?
 Usually when I was in Cammy headspace, I didn’t pay much attention to what went on around me. I
didn’t need to because Daddy was always there, and Daddy took care of everything. He was the best
Daddy ever. But the quiver in Daddy’s voice and the mention of travel snapped me from it. I dropped
my favorite car—a little blue ‘stang—into the bucket and walked into the office where Daddy was.
When he glanced up, my heart broke. I ran around the desk and wrapped my arms around him. In the
ten years Daddy and I had been together I’d only seen him cry twice. The first time was when his
mother passed away, two years into our relationship. The second time was at our wedding a year
after that, though Daddy claimed those were happy tears, but these certainly were not.
“Daddy, what happened?” I asked and immediately wished I hadn’t as his anguish intensified. His
pain-riddled face was like a punch to the gut.
“Auntie Caroline, she’s, she’s,” he stumbled as his gentle features filled with sorrow. “She’s
gone.”
“What? Where did she go?” It wasn’t like her to suddenly go on vacation, and why would that
upset Daddy?
“She died.”
There was no way I heard him right. Auntie Caroline was my favorite and Daddy’s only living
relative. “Not Sissy,” I whimpered, and nearly choked on the words as my throat constricted and I
dropped to my knees. “No, it can’t be. Sissy plays with me. I want my sissy now!” I screamed and
pounded my fists against the floor, as though that would magically transport her here. The sadness
fueled an internal battle between Cammy and Cam, and I teetered on the edge of a full-blown tantrum.
One look at Daddy hunched over his desk ended that tirade just as quickly as it’d started. His
ndshoulders shook as the enormity of the tragic loss consumed him.
or “What about Rose? Is she okay?” Panic set in as I worried Caroline’s three-year-old daughter,
tilRose, was left alone somewhere. “Where is she?”
“Rose is fine, Little One,” Daddy replied, using his special nickname for me. The sweet
endearment generally calmed me, though this time I was anything but. “She was at Megan’s. Caroline
ys.was leaving work after her shift and as she neared her car, she-she,” Daddy again faltered as a fresh
hewave of tears rushed forth. “A cart attendant found her on the ground next to the driver’s side. She had
y. an aneurism and died instantly. She had so much life left to live.” My heart broke for him and for
Rose. That sweet little girl would never get to know the wonderful woman her mother was. “I’ll book
our flights and then get us packed. Why don’t you clean up your toys,” Daddy relayed on autopilot
without a second glance. His eyes were already glued to the computer as he typed away.
 . I Daddies are supposed to be fierce and strong. Protectors of their boys.
est But what happens when Daddy is the one who needs taken care of?
ed Stupid, unwritten rules.
as. Pfft.
he Who came up with them anyway?
his Daddy needs me now more than ever and I’m gonna be there for him just like he’s always been
arfor me. Darn the rules, we’re a family and that matters most.
In a rush, I cleaned up my toys and retrieved our rolling luggage set from the garage and headed
Hisstraight to our bedroom to begin packing. Daddy wandered in not long after.
“Little One, what are you doing?” Daddy reached for the shirt I’d just folded, but I moved it out of
’sreach.
“I’m helping. You booked our flights so the least I could do was get us packed. What time do we
hatleave?” I asked and ignored the ache in my gut over this whole situation. I might appear strong now,
but as soon as I saw Rose, I knew I’d lose it.
Daddy sighed. “But I’m supposed to take care of you.”
ng “Daddy,” I wrapped my arms around him and pulled him to me. Normally our height difference of
d Inearly a foot never came into the equation. Though now with Daddy slouched over, his head rested
ndagainst my chest, it hit me how reversed our roles were. He was the little one in this scenario. “We’re
ssa team. We help each other and not because we must, but because we want to.” Where this strength
m.had come from, I couldn’t say. Maybe my subconscious fed from Daddy’s sorrow, who knows. What
Hiswas clear was how much this strong man who wept in my arms needed me.
Daddy sat down beside the suitcase on the bed. “You remember the night Rose was born?” he said
er,as he nervously fiddled with the luggage tag and recalled the memory.
“How could I forget. Aside from our wedding it was one of the happiest days of my life.” Caroline
ethad always wanted to be a mom but had no desire for a partner. Daddy and I supported her choice one
nehundred percent. So, with her portion of the inheritance they both received when their mother passed
shon, she opted to use hers on artificial insemination. It took a couple of tries but as they say, the third
adtime’s a charm and in her case that held true. Nearly ten months later, Rose Nadine Williams, named
orafter Daddy and Auntie Caroline’s mother Rose, was born. He continued to fidget with the tag,
okflipping it around. “Daddy, just spit it out.”
ot “She’s ours now. Rose, that is,” he whispered. Was he worried I’d be upset or that I’d forgotten
Caroline’s wishes?
 “I remember. We both signed the papers Caroline had the lawyer draw up stating if anything were
to happen to her, we gained custody of Rose.” I scootched in beside him and took his hands in mine.
“Daddy, Rose is family and family sticks together. Nothing has changed for me except for the big hole
in my heart that belonged to Sissy.”
“But you’re supposed to be my boy. What happens when your playtime is cut in half or becomes
ennon-existent?” He burst into tears again, “Please don’t leave me.”
“Oh, Daddy,” once again, I hugged him tight. Daddy’s hugs always made me feel better and I hoped
edmine would do the same for him. How had this strong man suddenly become so insecure? “Nothing
could take me away from you. We’ll adjust and take it one day at a time. Rose is more important and
ofwhen I need little time, we’ll find a way to make it work.” Did he really believe that bringing Rose
into our lives would be a deal breaker for me? I loved that child with all my heart. I only wished we
wesaw her more than once or twice a year and now we would, though I wished it meant Sissy was there,
w,too. “She needs us, Daddy. Rose is going to be confused and sad and it’s up to us to make her happy
again. Besides, playing with Rose will be fun.” I did my best to sound excited about the prospect and
while I was, the wounds over losing Caroline would need time to heal.
of “Okay,” Daddy wiped his nose, “let’s go get our girl.”
ed Three and a half hours and one Uber ride later, our plane was airborne. “Daddy?”
re “Yes, Little One?” he responded as he gazed out at the city lights.
gth “Have you thought about where the three of us will live?” My mind was an endless sea of
hatquestions. “Are you going to sell your parents’ home? It’s the only one Rose has ever known.” I
worried taking her away from things she was familiar with would only further confuse and upset her.
id“We could sell our house and move back to Ohio.” I loved our cozy cottage in the outskirts of
Montpelier. Our closest neighbor was three miles away, allowing us the privacy we sought when
nemoving here. But this was no longer just about us, and it was important we considered what was best
nefor Rose first and foremost.
ed He sighed. “I don’t know. Ohio is where I was born but our house is a home and the one we
rdcreated together. That old place of my parents’ holds a lot of memories but needs updating and, I don’t
edknow,” he shrugged, and continued to stare out into the dark nothingness. “Not sure that’s where I
g,want our family to be.”
“Well, whatever you decide, know it will be good with me. Anywhere you are will always be
enhome.” Daddy pressed his lips to my knuckles as fresh tears streamed down his face. I didn’t mean to
remake him cry again. I just didn’t want him to worry about how his decisions would affect me. We
ne.would adapt and overcome and needed to ensure Rose had all the tools she required to do the same.
le “I love you, Little One.”
“I love you, too, Daddy.”
es The rest of the flight was spent in silence until we arrived at the luggage carousel and Daddy
ordered transportation while we waited. The driver loaded the bags into the trunk and then we settled
edin for the ride. The drive to the suburbs wasn’t long, though it was somber which only served to
ngheighten the melancholy of why we were here in the first place. How was it that the snow in Vermont
ndseemed so different than that in Cleveland? Our streets were plowed, too, but living out in the country
seas we did it remained a bright, shimmery white. With the traffic here, it was piled high off to the side
weof the roads and into parking lots, stained with dirt and grime. The beauty of winter was lost in the
e,bustling city and that saddened me, a staunch memory as to why I chose to leave in the first place. Too
pymany sad memories. It’d been so long since I felt the unwanted tendrils of depression grip me.
ndAllowing the demons to sink their claws in now would be detrimental to successfully maneuvering
the shit storm I knew lay ahead for us.
The driver came to a stop in front of the familiar ranch-style home. Caroline had put a new roof on
it this past summer, but the exterior was in dire need of a fresh coat of paint. The barren trees of
winter only intensified the dreadful view. Maybe engaging in home projects to brighten up the old
ofplace would be fun, though the outside would need to wait for spring. My mind spun with an endless
Ilist of ideas.
er. “Megan texted that Rose was sound asleep. She suggested we leave her there for the night and I
ofagreed. No use rousing her at this late hour,” Daddy said as he unlocked the front door. He’d been
entexting away during the drive from the airport and now I knew who with.
est “I agree. Tomorrow will be hard enough on her. Let her have peaceful dreams tonight.” As we
stepped inside the house it was like being sucked into a time warp. The last visit with Caroline and
weRose had been at our place so we hadn’t seen the house for a while. Clearly the updates Caroline had
n’tbeen talking about hadn’t happened. The dated furniture, I believe Daddy mentioned a time or two
Ishould have been left in the sixties, was still here. The only room we knew that had been refreshed
was Daddy’s old bedroom. Daddy and I had come and painted it, laid new carpet, and assembled
beRose’s crib and changing table just before she was born to turn it her special space.
to “Are you hungry, Little One?” Daddy asked as I followed him into his parents’ old bedroom where
we’d be staying.
We “No, I’m still full after the dinner we ate at the airport before our flight. Plus, it’s nearly midnight
and eating this late won’t bode well for either of us.” Once you hit a certain age, meals after eight pm
sit like a lump of concrete in your gut. “Let’s get settled in.” Silently we unpacked and then took turns
showering in the single body stall in the master bedroom ensuite. Given my height, I had to slouch to
dywash my face. The lack of hair on my head was truly a blessing in this challenging environment. Had I
edneeded to wash it, the likelihood I’d get all the soap rinsed out was low.
to “Night, Little One,” Daddy kissed me and turned off the bedside lamp.
nt “Night, Daddy.” I shifted around and tried to get comfy on the lumpy old mattress and wondered if
rythe couch would be better suited for me. With Daddy sniffling beside me, I worked past that urge, and
derolled over to hold him. It was rare I played the role of the big spoon and he the little spoon, but
heholding Daddy as he cried himself was right where I needed to be. Shortly after he dozed off, I fell
ooasleep, though it was a restless night for both of us. Even my favorite koala stuffie, Eugene, couldn’t
me.conjure the sandman.
ng “Well, at least she has a Keurig.” It was a feeble attempt to brighten the dark day that lay before us,
both figuratively and literally given the impending snowstorm. Not to mention the horrible task of
ontelling Rose her mother was gone. I slid a pod in to brew and took a peek inside the fridge and
ofcupboards while it did its thing. “We need to go to the store after we pick up Rose.” Shoot, how
ldwould we get around with no vehicle? “Should we have rented a car?”
ss “No, the spare keys to Caroline’s SUV are on the rack. The grocery store is in the same strip center
as her work was. We need to pick up her vehicle anyway,” Daddy replied as he stared blankly at the
d Icup of coffee I’d placed in front of him.
en “Okay, let me whip us up some breakfast before we get Rose. Why don’t you text Megan and let her
know what our plans are.” Distraction was what Daddy needed, and food. Maybe a full belly would
wegive him an energy boost. Eggs, bread, butter, and cheese, all the makings for a well-balanced
ndbreakfast were here but we would need to restock today for sure.
ad We nearly froze during the short walk to Megan’s even though it was only a block away. Megan and
woCaroline had been best friends since high school and given the current situation that was a blessing.
edMegan had two kids of her own, a boy and a girl. Her son, Devon, was seven and her daughter,
edAlexis, was the same age as Rose. Alexis and Rose were thick as thieves, and I wasn’t sure how well
Rose would react to being moved away from her. Yes, I know children will adapt but suffering one
reloss right now was more than enough for this child.
ght Megan answered the door, pajama clad, and her nose and eyes were red and puffy. “Noel,
mCamden,” she barely got out before she burst into tears. “I’m so sorry.” Daddy wrapped his sturdy
nsarms around her and tried his best not to match her tear for tear but failed.
to “Unca Cam! Unca Nowell!” Rose squealed when she saw us. I adored the way she mispronounced
d IDaddy’s real name. That sweet little flower had a gift for lighting up a room and boy did this room
need it.
“Hello, Rose petal,” I scooped her up and spun her around, her giggles filled the air. “I’ve missed
ifyou so much.”
nd “Miss you, too, Unca Cam,” she squirmed to get down and over to Daddy. At the sight of her,
utDaddy’s tears couldn’t be stopped if he tried. Rose was the spitting image of her mother, right down
ellto her auburn curls and hazel eyes. Daddy really needed this little girl safely tucked inside his loving
n’tembrace. Honestly, we both did. She would be the glue that mended our broken hearts.
I took Megan’s hand and led her toward the kitchen to speak privately. “I’m so sorry, Megan.”
us, She nodded and wiped her eyes. “Would you like some coffee?”
of “Sure, but I can get it. Take a seat.” I pulled two cups from the cupboard above the pot. Having
ndbeen here before I was familiar with the layout of her kitchen. Last time we had a barbeque for Alexis
wand Rose’s birthdays, it was here. Their birthdays were three days apart, but the girls liked to
celebrate together. “What do you take in yours?”
er “Cream, please,” Megan sniffled. “How long will you two be in town for?”
he “As long as it takes,” I answered honestly as I sat both cups on the table and took a seat beside her.
“This is going to be extremely difficult for the two of them and I don’t want Da, err, Noel,” I hurried
erto correct myself though I was certain Megan knew of our lifestyle, “to feel rushed into making any
lddecisions.”
ed “I just can’t believe she’s gone.” Megan’s sorrow was felt ten-fold in those few words.
I hurt, too, but did I have a right to? Daddy lost his sister, Rose her mom, Megan her lifelong best
ndfriend. Being the outsider had its pros and cons. The three of them needed me and I’d be there, though
ng.at some point the enormity of this would hit me like a freight train.
er, Cartoons played from the den where Megan’s kids were. I stared off in the general direction and
ellverbalized my fear. “I have no clue how we’re going to tell Rose.” The thought of taking that little girl
nefrom giggling with her friends to crying herself to sleep ate me alive.
Megan sniffled and wiped her nose. “We’re telling our kids tonight, Jack and I.”
 Megan answered the door, pajama clad, and her nose and eyes were red and puffy. “Noel,
Camden,” she barely got out before she burst into tears. “I’m so sorry.” Daddy wrapped his sturdy
arms around her and tried his best not to match her tear for tear but failed.
“Unca Cam! Unca Nowell!” Rose squealed when she saw us. I adored the way she mispronounced
Daddy’s real name. That sweet little flower had a gift for lighting up a room and boy did this room
need it.
“Hello, Rose petal,” I scooped her up and spun her around, her giggles filled the air. “I’ve missed
you so much.”
“Miss you, too, Unca Cam,” she squirmed to get down and over to Daddy. At the sight of her,
Daddy’s tears couldn’t be stopped if he tried. Rose was the spitting image of her mother, right down
to her auburn curls and hazel eyes. Daddy really needed this little girl safely tucked inside his loving
embrace. Honestly, we both did. She would be the glue that mended our broken hearts.
I took Megan’s hand and led her toward the kitchen to speak privately. “I’m so sorry, Megan.”
She nodded and wiped her eyes. “Would you like some coffee?”
“Sure, but I can get it. Take a seat.” I pulled two cups from the cupboard above the pot. Having
been here before I was familiar with the layout of her kitchen. Last time we had a barbeque for Alexis
and Rose’s birthdays, it was here. Their birthdays were three days apart, but the girls liked to
celebrate together. “What do you take in yours?”
“Cream, please,” Megan sniffled. “How long will you two be in town for?”
“As long as it takes,” I answered honestly as I sat both cups on the table and took a seat beside her.
“This is going to be extremely difficult for the two of them and I don’t want Da, err, Noel,” I hurried
to correct myself though I was certain Megan knew of our lifestyle, “to feel rushed into making any
decisions.”
“I just can’t believe she’s gone.” Megan’s sorrow was felt ten-fold in those few words.
I hurt, too, but did I have a right to? Daddy lost his sister, Rose her mom, Megan her lifelong best
friend. Being the outsider had its pros and cons. The three of them needed me and I’d be there, though
at some point the enormity of this would hit me like a freight train.
Cartoons played from the den where Megan’s kids were. I stared off in the general direction and
verbalized my fear. “I have no clue how we’re going to tell Rose.” The thought of taking that little girl
from giggling with her friends to crying herself to sleep ate me alive.
Megan sniffled and wiped her nose. “We’re telling our kids tonight, Jack and I.”
 Chapter Two
Noel

Rose ran off to play with her friends, I stood in the entryway in awe of her childish exuberance as
she joined the others dancing to the silly song on their program. I wished I had their energy. How
could I take such happiness away and still be able to look at myself in the mirror?
“Noel,” Megan said as I took a seat at the kitchen table. She and Cam were kind enough to give me
some alone time with Rose. I needed that little girl in my arms like I needed my next breath. She and
Cam were the key to getting through this and moving on. Caroline may be gone but I’ll be damned if
she’ll be forgotten. Rose will always know what a wonderful woman her mother was, and the
pictures displayed would keep the memories in the forefront of our minds.
My sweet boy, Camden.
We stared across the table at each other, silent communication. How he’d come alive and stood tall
these last few hours, a complete role reversal for our dynamic. Had I failed as a daddy by allowing
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calici, poi condursi lentamente verso le piante, e appena giunta
dietro i cespugli correre lesta lesta al cancello, aprirlo, uscirne,
chiuderlo di nuovo e sparire. Egli allora recandosi da un’altra porta
frettolosamente sulle di lei traccie potè osservarla nel momento che
volgeva i passi ad una contrada appartata dal lato di Porta Nuova.
Maravigliato la vide accostarsi alla porta d’una casa d’antico aspetto
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percuotere l’imposta. Ei s’arrestò e stette in agguato osservandone
ogni moto senza quasi trarre il respiro; ma allorchè mirò il pesante
battente socchiudersi, ed ella dopo avere girato intorno un rapido
sguardo penetrarvi come di soppiatto, lo stupore fece luogo in esso
lui al sospetto più nero.
Stette un istante immobile, oppresso da atroci pensieri che si
presentarono in folla alla sua mente.... Sola.... in tal’ora.... in quella
casa deserta!... qual scellerato intrigo ve la traeva? — Oh colpo
irreparabile all’onore, alla fede! — Impallidì: grondò sudore dalla
fronte. Trasse la spada, corse a quella porta ne spinse con gran
vigore l’imposta, la quale con sua sorpresa cesse all’impeto
agevolmente. Passò d’un andito ed entrò in un cortile; era questi
folto di sterpi e d’erbe selvatiche che sembravano non essere mai
state calpeste da piede umano; i quattro lati dell’edificio che
formavano parete a quel cortile apparivano in istato di totale
deperimento. Cadenti li stipiti, le grondaje; sfasciati gli ornati e le
cornici. Non ombra, non traccia d’abitatori.
Un’idea più scura, più orribile s’affacciò a Reginaldo a quella vista! Si
rammentò che quelle erano mura maledette, abbominate, asilo
d’empietà e di vituperio su cui pesava un secolo d’esecrazione,
poichè quivi era stato il luogo de’ secreti convegni de’ proseliti di
Guglielma, l’eretica Boema, l’amante del Saramita, maestra di
nefande dottrine cui arsero per venti anni i cerei nel tempio, e poscia
ne furono l’ossa tratte dal sepolcro e combuste sul rogo [13].
Dal dì che vennero inceneriti i resti dell’empia donna nessuno aveva
osato prendere dimora colà, ed era destinato quell’edifizio a divenire
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Mentre il Marchese coll’animo inorridito e in tempesta volgeva
torbido l’occhio onde scoprire in qual parte potesse essersi ricettata
Cunizza, ode in una delle camere terrene calpestìo di piedi. Sta in
aspetto, e vede entro l’uscio di fronte lo svolazzo delle vesti d’una
persona passante: si precipita in quella stanza e tosto ascolta uno
strido e il tramutare di passi accelerati; seguendone il rumore
trapassa varie sale, e penetra in un oscuro e ristretto corritojo, in
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discende una scala. Gridando e minacciando s’avanza verso quel
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Assai profonda scendeva la scala, e giuntone al termine s’avvide dal
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tenebrose. S’arrestò, porse l’orecchio e più non udì alcun rumore:
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alquanto in se stesso, pensò al periglio cui poteva andare incontro
fra que’ ciechi avvolgimenti, onde determinò ritornare sui proprii
passi, affine di poter uscire da quella casa, farla circondare d’armati
e sorprendere così la scellerata che lo tradiva.
Si volse, cercò brancolando la scala, ma dopo avere fatti qua e là
varii passi nel vano, sentì d’essersi accostato all’umido e freddo
sasso della parete: la seguì da destra e da sinistra sempre
toccandola impaziente di rinvenire l’uscita, ma quel muro era per
tutto chiuso e continuo. Si rimise più volte all’opera, ripetè
diligentemente le ricerche, e quando alfine vide riuscire inutile ogni
tentativo un secreto terrore gli ricercò le vene, poichè paventò
d’essere disceso entro cieco fondo che avesse la scala fatta a
ribalta, la quale fosse già stata rialzata, volendo la rea consorte
lasciarlo perire colà per seppellire con esso lui la propria ignominia.
Mentre assorto nell’angoscia disperata di tal pensiero stava immoto
tra quelle tenebre mute e profonde, una voce sconosciuta profferì il
suo nome a breve distanza da lui. Reginaldo sobbalzò a tal suono
inaspettato, poichè non aveva udita in quella quiete sepolcrale
movimento o respirazione che annunziasse la presenza di persona
viva. Ridestato però tostamente l’usato ardire — «Chi sei tu?
(esclamò). Palesati, e se mi conosci t’avvicina. Ho d’uopo d’una
mano che mi guidi perchè son perduto in questa oscurità». — Così
dicendo allungò la destra movendo in giro la spada per trovare ove
fosse quei che lo aveva chiamato onde poterlo afferrare e
costringere a liberarlo di là.
Il suo ferro però non potè incontrare corpo alcuno, e un gelo mortale
gli corse per l’ossa, rizzandoglisi sul capo le chiome, quando udì
presso all’orecchio la stessa voce pronunziare in tuon minaccioso le
seguenti parole: — Reginaldo! tu sei in mio potere. Inesplicabile è
l’arcano che ti circonda; nè tu uscirai da queste nere cave se non
deponi il pensiero della vendetta. — Per alcuni istanti mancarono ad
esso le forze, onde articolare un solo accento. Era quella forse la
voce dello spirito d’abbominazione che regnava colà ove aveva
presieduto alle orgie infernali degli adepti nel sacrilego dogma della
Boema?... od era ella stessa revocata dal seno degli abissi
ond’essere pronuba del nuovo delitto che si consumava nella
chiostra di sue iniquità? — La di lui mente si turbò, gli si offuscarono
le idee; profferì varii motti che parvero assentire a ciò che gli andava
chiedendo quella voce, la quale poscia allontanandosi da lui l’invitò a
seguirla. Egli si mosse e dopo avere camminato a lungo per una
ristretta via nel tetro bujo, gli venne a ferire lo sguardo un leggiero
bagliore. Avanzandosi con meno incerto passo pervenne ad una
spaziosa Rotonda, nel mezzo alla quale ardeva sopra un’ara una
fiamma azzurrognola. Elittica era la volta di quella camera circolare,
lucido il pavimento e per tutto andava figurata ad emblemi tali da non
potersi descrivere che co’ più impudenti numeri fescennini;
compivano un giro intorno gran numero di porticelle che davano
adito forse ad altrettante camerette. Presso all’ara vedevasi ancora il
moggio di ferro, arnese sacro ai nefarj riti de’ settatori di Guglielma,
che quivi avevano formato l’abside del loro sotterraneo tempio [14].
Benchè il lavoro degli anni avesse guasti con iscrostamenti le
modanature ed i dipinti, pure ne rimaneva ancora più che a
sufficienza per dimostrare che l’opera era stata fatta con tutta la
squisitezza dell’arte che concedevano i tempi. Reginaldo nello
stordimento mentale in cui trovavasi provò maggior ribrezzo e paura
alla vista delle strane oscene figure ch’erano in quel sepolto luogo, le
quali alla tremula e livida luce che spandeva la fosforescente fiamma
dell’ara sembravano moversi ed agitarsi con magico sussulto.
Chiamato dall’incognita voce entro una delle molteplici porticelle che
circondavano la Rotonda, esso vi penetrò e presto trovossi di nuovo
totalmente nell’oscurità. Dopo molto andare, essendo disceso e
salito a più riprese, giunse in luogo ove sentì l’aria rinfrescarsi ed
alleggerirsi; travide un pallidissimo chiarore ed indi a poco pervenne
ad un foro, che s’aveva l’aspetto della bocca d’un antro ingombro di
bronchi e di spini, uscito dal quale si trovò nell’aperta campagna [15].
La luna coperta da bianco velo di nebbie mandava una smorta luce
sui campi circostanti al di là de’ quali vedevansi sorgere le torri della
città. Il Marchese non era più in se stesso, l’ordine delle sue idee
s’era guasto e scomposto del tutto, i suoi pensieri aberravano. Fu
rinvenuto il mattino a poca distanza di là seduto sopra un ammasso
di pietre col sorriso della demenza impresso in volto.
Riconosciuto dalle persone accorse, fu ricondotto in Milano al
proprio palazzo, ove gli si spiegò immediatamente una fierissima
malattia che fece crescere in lui lo stato di delirio. Le sue genti ed i
famigliari, pieni di stupore e di rammarico per sì strano e doloroso
avvenimento, fantasticavano invano onde comprenderne la cagione;
nè mancò tra essi chi lo attribuì ad effetto di malìa, di sortilegio, o
d’altro diabolico potere; alla quale credenza oltre che già inclinavano
con troppa agevolezza le menti in quella età, prestavano assai le
parole che di quando in quando uscivano dalle labbra del Marchese,
le quali palesavano trovarsi il suo spirito in preda al profondo terrore
ed all’angoscia prodotta dalla presenza d’un essere malefico e
formidabile.
Le molteplici cure che gli vennero prestate, scemarono alfine le forze
del morbo, e a capo ad alcuni mesi, ricuperato in parte il vigore delle
membra, cesse in lui la perturbazione dell’intelletto per cui potè
riprendere le assuetudini della vita. Rimaneva però il marchese
Reginaldo di continuo immerso in una grave tristezza; mai gli
spuntava sulle labbra un sorriso, non profferiva quasi parola, nè
oltrepassava la soglia di sua camera se non per recarsi in abito di
lutto ad orare nella chiesa più vicina, ch’era di Monaci obbedienti ad
una regola austera; e qualche rada volta couducevasi a passeggiare
nel giardino d’onde però sembrava sempre rinvenire più oppresso ed
afflitto.
Ma ch’era addivenuto mai della marchesa Cunizza? — Una falsa
apparenza, un precipitato giudizio, avevano forse illuso il marito od
era essa veramente colpevole? gioiva delle conseguenze del proprio
fallo o le aveva questo già recati gli amari suoi frutti? Varie correvano
le voci intorno ad essa. Alcuno asseriva ch’ella era stata rapita da un
Cavaliero di Francia e trasportata in estraneo paese; altri pretendeva
che si trovasse tuttavia in Milano, celata gelosamente nella casa
d’un potente signore; e alcuni finalmente dicevano ch’erasi ritirata in
un castello sul Ticino presso i suoi materni parenti. — Infelice! —
Vittima della seduzione e d’un’anima appassionata, pagò il suo
errore con una serie di quelle amare sventure che si concentrano nel
cuore, e lo trascinano sino alla disperazione. La battaglia di
Ravenna [16], gloriosa e fatale ad un tempo, aveva troncato l’ultimo
filo di sue sciagurate speranze.
Riconobbe allora, ahi troppo tardi! i proprii falli. Benchè avesse
facoltà di condurre signorilmente la vita lungi dal teatro delle sue
colpe, ella volle a costo d’affrontare ogni umiliazione rientrare nella
casa maritale, ove chiamavala il pentimento e il dovere.
L’error suo era grave, ma che non possono le lagrime spremute dal
più sincero cordoglio? Il Marchese sentiva ch’egli andava mancando
solo, deserto come pianta isterilita: la compagna de’ suoi giorni lo
aveva abbandonato per sempre! viveva sconsolato senza sperare di
rinvenire sulla terra chi gli recasse un istante di conforto. Quando un
giorno la moglie gli si gettò ai piedi, pallida, estenuata con tutti i
segni d’un lungo accoramento, soffocata da singhiozzi sì che non
poteva formar parola, egli sorpreso, agitato da contrari affetti, stette
esitando fra le smanie della vendetta e la commozione, ma
quest’ultima vinse alfine, ei le stese impietosito le braccia e perdonò.
 INDICE

Avvertimento dell’Editore pag. 1

Ingelinda o la Suora Benedettina 7
Il Bravo e la Dama. Scena Storica 39
Adelberta Boniprandi. Episodio della Storia
Novarese 59
Macaruffo venturiero o la Corte del Duca
Filippo Maria Visconti 73
Il Bacio Fatale 163
Le Nozze al Castello. Scene feudali 185
Il Sotterraneo di Porta Nuova 245

La presente Edizione è sotto la tutela delle Leggi.

 NOTE:

1. Robiallo fu nel secolo XIV interamente distrutto. Veggonsi ancora su

un’eminenza petrosa i ruderi del vasto castello.

2. Fu nel 16 maggio 1412.

3. Andrea Baggi e Giovanni Pusterla, nipote di quello sopra rammentato,

erano stati capi della congiura ed uccisori del duca Giovan Maria.

4. Si vegga la nota in fine a questo racconto.

5. Il Carmagnola in premio de’ suoi servigi venne dal Duca nel 1415 creato
Conte di Castel Nuovo, essendosene fatta la cerimonia all’altare
maggiore del Duomo. Fu dieci anni dopo che sdegnatosi col Visconte
egli passò allo stipendio della Repubblica di Venezia. Veggasi la
rinomata tragedia di Alessandro Manzoni.

6. Essa potè chiamarsi ben avventurata tra le Favorite, perchè il Duca gli si
serbò costante, e il popolo soleva pregare per lei nelle chiese. Ebbe una
figlia di nome Bianca Maria, che fu isposata a Francesco Sforza, il quale
per tal matrimonio pretese alla successione dei Visconti ed ottenne il
Ducato.

7. Il seguente articolo è relativo al personaggio storico rammentato alla

pagina 129.

8. Ponteschi e Breneschi erano due nemiche fazioni, una Guelfa, l’altra

Ghibellina, che si formarono nell’Ossola verso il 1300, prendendo nome
dai due capi rivali Ponti e Breni. Sussistettero più d’un secolo pugnando
soventi fra loro e mantenendo vivissimi gli odii non solo fra le diverse
valli coll’Ossola confinanti, ma tra le terre d’una stessa valle e per sino
tra famiglia e famiglia. I Ponteschi portavano per impresa negli abiti e
nelle bandiere i colori rosso, verde e nero; ed i Breneschi il rosso,
argentino e bianco.

9. Gazzaro parola corrotta usata dal volgo per significare Cattaros ossia
Puri, nome assunto dagli eretici in quell’epoca.
10. Fra Dolcino famoso eresiarca, capo d’una setta numerosa, stanziò per
lungo tempo nei monti dell’alto Novarese. Egli s’aveva una donna detta
Monaca Margherita che lo seguiva dovunque. Il Vescovo di Vercelli
Rainerio coadiuvato da molti nobili di Novara lo vinse nella battaglia
datagli il Giovedì Santo del 1307 a Zebello; e consegnatolo con
Margherita in potere del frate domenicano Emanuele Testa, inquisitore
generale, questi li condannò entrambi a perire nelle fiamme.
Nel Canto XXVIII dell’Inferno, ove è descritto il modo in cui sono puniti i
seminatori delle eresie, Maometto così parla a Dante di Frate Dolcino.

Or dì a Fra Dolcin dunque che s’armi,

Tu che forse vedrai il sole in breve,
S’egli non vuol qui tosto seguitarmi;
Sì di vivanda, che stretta di neve
Non rechi la vittoria al Novarese
Ch’altrimenti acquistar non sarìa lieve.

11. Esso era uno de’ più possenti feudatari dell’alto Novarese. Il dominio
feudale nella famiglia Biandrate ebbe principio sino dall’anno 1209
essendo stato alla medesima accordato dall’Imperatore Ottone, col
privilegio di portare nello scudo l’aquila nera in campo d’oro.

12. Carlo d’Amboise di Chaumont gran Maestro, era in quell’epoca

Governatore di Milano per Luigi XII Re di Francia, il quale dieci anni
prima, cioè nel 1500, aveva tolto il dominio e la libertà al Duca Lodovico
Sforza soprannominato il Moro.

13. La storia dell’eretica Guglielma o Guglielmina Boema va annoverata tra

le cose patrie più singolari ed importanti, anzi si può dire l’avvenimento
che offre maggior campo all’analisi delle vicende e de’ pregiudizj dello
spirito umano nel decimo terzo e decimoquarto secolo. Regna però su di
esso tuttavia una misteriosa oscurità che merita d’impegnare il criterio
d’alcuno de’ nostri moderni scrittori a diradarla; nè v’ha a tal uopo
scarsezza de’ documenti, imperciocchè ne parlarono estesamente molti
storici, e in particolar modo il Puricelli ne’ commentarj sul di lei processo.

14. Sacerdotali ornata amictu ad aram obmurmurat: In unum co... et lumen

sub modio ponite. — Trist. Calc. Hist. Patriae.

15. Flexuosum os informemque aditum habebat spelunca obsita vepribus.

— Ripamon. Hist. Urb. Med. an. 1300.
16. Il giorno 11 aprile del 1512 fu data contro il Pontefice ed i suoi collegati
la battaglia di Ravenna, in cui la vittoria costò all’armata di Francia il
fiore de’ suoi cavalieri. In essa cadde estinto pugnando Gastone di Foix,
duce delle squadre, fulmine di guerra, che partito tre mesi prima da
Milano aveva sconfitto don Pietro di Navarra, liberata Bologna, vinti i
Veneziani, riconquistate Bergamo e Brescia, e recata la guerra nella
Romagna. Il suo cadavere fu trasportato in questa città circondato dai
conquistati trofei, tra cui v’aveva la spada dello stesso Giulio II il più
guerriero de’ Pontefici. Gastone venne sepolto nel Duomo alla foggia de’
Duchi, ed essendo stato dagli Svizzeri distrutto il suo tumolo in quel
tempio, al nuovo ritorno de’ Francesi gli fu eretto un magnifico mausoleo
nella chiesa delle Monache di Santa Marta.
 Nota del Trascrittore

Ortografia e punteggiatura originali sono state

mantenute, correggendo senza annotazione minimi
errori tipografici.
Copertina creata dal trascrittore e posta nel pubblico
dominio.
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