She left the room before she could become too aware of them looking at her, and went to have a coffee. Before he left Renato joined her.
‘You were right,’ he said. ‘The news has cheered her up. It was generous of you to insist. I hope it won’t come too hard on you.’
‘I have no feelings one way or the other,’ she assured him.
‘I wish I knew if that were true.’
‘Does it matter? It’s your mother who counts.’
‘But you count too. We need to talk very soon-’
‘I don’t think so.’
‘Surely you can see that matters can’t be left like this?’
‘Of course. When she’s better I’ll arrange to return Bella Rosaria, and then I’ll go back to England.’
‘That wasn’t what I meant. There are other things-’
‘No, Renato, there’s nothing else. I’ll go back to her now.
Towards evening Baptista became wakeful, growing alert at every sound.
‘He’ll be here soon,’ Heather promised.
‘My dear, will it break your heart to see him?’
‘Hearts don’t break that easily,’ she said with a determined smile.
‘I think they do-at least for a while.’
‘I’ll tell you something,’ Heather said in a rush. ‘It’s not just losing Lorenzo-it’s losing everything. That day we went to Bella Rosaria, I told you how right it’s all felt since I arrived. I was so sure that fate had brought me to the right place to marry the right man.’ She gave an ironic little laugh. ‘It just shows you how wrong you can be.’
‘I don’t think you were wrong,’ Baptista said.
‘I must have been. I misread every signal, even my own. I’m different. I can’t recognise my own reactions. Once this would have made me cry my heart out. Now I just want to do something forceful, to show people that I’m not to be trifled with.’
‘That’s a very Sicilian reaction, my dear,’ Baptista said. ‘That feeling of rightness you had when you arrived-it was a true feeling. But it wasn’t Lorenzo who caused it. It was Sicily, telling you that you’d come home.’
‘What a charming theory-’
‘But you believe it’s just an old woman’s fancy. My dear, think. Forget Lorenzo, and think of the land. I’ve seen you standing on the terrace, watching it, when you thought nobody knew. Think of it in the morning when the mist is rising, or at noon when the shadows are deep and sharp-’
‘Or in the early evening when the light is that strange soft gold that happens nowhere else,’ Heather mused, half to herself.
‘And the language that you’re learning so easily,’ Baptista reminded her. ‘In fact, everything about this country comes easily to you. Even the heat.’
Yes, Heather thought. She’d flowered in the sun and it had relaxed all her instincts, blurring the edges of her personality, making her feel things that otherwise…
But that was all over now. The trauma she’d suffered in the cathedral had been like a blow to the head, knocking out emotion and sensation, so that she could function calmly. With any luck it would remain that way until she returned to England, and became herself again. And what she suffered there would be nobody’s business but her own.
‘I’m English, Mamma,’ she said now. ‘I belong there.’
‘No, you belong here,’ Baptista said firmly. ‘And you must remain.’
A shocking suspicion swept Heather. ‘No! If you’re thinking what I think you are-I could never marry Lorenzo now.’
‘Of course not.’ She stopped, alerted by a step in the corridor outside. The door opened and Heather stiffened as she saw Lorenzo. The next moment there was a glad cry from Baptista, and she opened her arms to her son. He was across the room in a moment to embrace his mother.
She tried to leave before he saw her, but at that moment he looked up and a deep flush spread over his face. ‘I’ll leave you two alone,’ she said. She kissed Baptista and departed quickly.
The little scene was over too fast for her to be aware of feeling anything. It was only when she was walking down the corridor that a wave of emotion swept her. Her head might tell her that their marriage would never have worked, but it was too soon for her to see Lorenzo without hurt. She checked her steps and leaned against the wall, pressing her hand against her mouth.
‘Heather!’ It was Renato’s voice.
She looked up. ‘Your brother has arrived,’ she said. ‘I’ve left them together.’
‘Are you all right?’
She gave a little puzzled laugh. ‘Why on earth wouldn’t I be all right? I’m going home now. Goodnight.’
It was a bad night to be thinking of lovers and honeymoons. The full moon was exquisitely reflected in the sea, and turned the land to pure silver. A sensible woman would go in right now, not sit here on the terrace, thinking of how she and her husband should be on a boat, cruising beneath that moon, lost in each other. And she was a sensible woman. It was being sensible that had enabled her to survive the last few days.
She heard a sound behind her and turned to find Lorenzo standing in the shadows. She sensed him take a deep breath and straighten his shoulders before he stepped forward.
She tried to use anticipation to suppress the pain of seeing his face, but nothing could change the fact that it was the one she’d fallen in love with, and whose smile had brightened her life.
‘I’ve come to ask your forgiveness, and to listen to whatever you have to say to me,’ he said quietly.
She raised her chin and confronted him with a bright manner. She even managed a touch of cheerfulness. ‘What are you expecting?’ she asked. ‘A tirade crashing about your ears? Reproaches, tears-“How could you do this to me?” Let’s take all that as read. I don’t have the energy for a big dramatic scene.’
‘But you must be angry with me.’
‘Must I? Well, I suppose I am, a bit. You should have told me the truth earlier.’
‘I meant to, when I came back from Stockholm, but Renato said-’
‘Stop right there. The less said about Renato, the better.’ After a moment she sighed. ‘He’s injured us both, and if there’s one good thing about this mess it’s that I shan’t have to be related to him.’ She gave an ironic laugh. ‘The night we met I told him that I’d never marry you because of him. I should have stuck to that. Ah, well! I didn’t. My mistake. Let’s not make a tragedy of it.’
‘How strong and brave you are!’ he said quietly. ‘You make me ashamed.’
Heather regarded him askance, a faint touch of amusement in her eyes. ‘Did you expect me to go into a decline because you ran away? Don’t flatter yourself. You just weren’t ready for marriage, and I’ve got better use for my tears than to waste them on you.’
‘You really don’t care for me any more?’
‘Luckily for us both, I don’t.’
‘But the night before our w-the other night-you flung yourself into my arms and told me again and again how much you loved me-’
‘That’s enough,’ she said sharply. ‘The past is the past. Believe me, you wouldn’t really want me swooning all over you and telling you that you’d broken my heart. You’d find that very uncomfortable.’
‘Yes, yes, of course,’ he said hastily. Then a hint of his charming smile crept over his face and he asked ruefully, ‘Just the same, couldn’t you flatter my vanity by being just a little bit sad?’
‘Not even a little bit. Now be off with you.’
He turned to go, but stopped suddenly and said, ‘If things had been different-if we’d been allowed to go at our own pace-I might not have proposed marriage just then, but when we’d parted I’d have missed you unbearably, and-’
‘Stop,’ she said, suddenly unable to bear any more, for this was the thought that tormented her. ‘Don’t talk like that. Go away, Lorenzo, please.’
‘Darling-’
‘Don’t call me that!’
‘I really was falling in love with you,’ he said huskily. ‘If only we’d been granted a little time-’
‘Go!’ she said fiercely.
She kept her face away from him, and didn’t move until the fading footsteps told her that he’d gone. She was more hurt than she wanted to admit to herself. Their love was over. She could never marry Lorenzo now. But the habit of affection lingered and the misery was still sharp.
Lorenzo found both his brothers in Renato’s study, pouring whisky.
‘Come in,’ Renato told him. ‘Here.’ He held out a glass.
‘Thanks, I need it.’ Lorenzo downed the malt in one gulp and held out his glass for more.
‘You only got what you asked for,’ Bernardo observed.
‘Actually, I didn’t. I thought it would be dreadful-tears and reproaches-’
‘Then you don’t know the woman you were supposed to marry,’ Renato said. ‘I could have told you she had more dignity than that-more dignity than you or any of us.’
‘Yes, but-not a single tear, not a word of regret.’
Renato’s eyes narrowed. ‘By God, she knew how to deal with you!’ he said softly.
‘Once, I even thought she was laughing at me.’
Bernardo whistled softly. ‘An exceptional woman.’
‘Yes,’ Renato snapped. He poured himself another full tumbler of whisky.
‘Haven’t you had enough?’ Bernardo asked mildly.
Renato swung on him. ‘Mind your own damned business!’
Bernardo shrugged. ‘It’s nothing to me. But it’s not like you to drink heavily-’
‘Well, tonight I feel like drinking the cellar dry.’
‘You’re the one she’s mad at,’ Lorenzo told him. ‘She blames the whole thing on you, and she’s right. If you’d kept out of our affairs, who knows what might have happened?’
‘Spare me the happy ever after ending,’ Renato sneered. ‘I’m not convinced.’
‘Well, I am,’ Lorenzo said with a flash of anger.
‘You’re out of your mind. It’s much too late for second thoughts.’
‘You wouldn’t like to take a little bet on that, would you? Heather knows we’d have been all right, but for you. And we might be yet. She’s a wonderful woman, and maybe it isn’t too late-’
He got no further. Renato’s hands were around his throat, choking the life out of him. Renato’s eyes, close to his, were glittering, filled with murder.
‘Renato, for God’s sake stop!’ That was Bernardo, hauling him off, having to use all his strength, holding him back while Lorenzo choked.
‘Get out of here,’ Renato raged. ‘Get out of my sight!’
‘Be damned to you!’ Lorenzo said hoarsely. ‘Why didn’t you stay out of my affairs?’
‘Get out, for God’s sake!’ Bernardo told him. ‘You two killing each other is all we need.’
Lorenzo flung Renato a bitter look and departed. Bernardo kept a cautious hold on his brother until the door was closed.
‘Oh, the hell with it! Let me go,’ Renato said. Bernardo did so at once. ‘What are you doing here, anyway? Why aren’t you with your lady?’
‘I can wait,’ Bernardo said. ‘She’s worth waiting for.’
‘Don’t tell me this family’s actually going to have a wedding after all?’
‘I think so. But that’s for your ears alone.’ Bernardo gave one of his rare smiles. ‘As the family head, do you approve?’
‘Would you take any notice if I didn’t?’
‘I’d mind. It wouldn’t stop me.’
‘For what it’s worth, you have my blessing. You’re a fortunate man.’
‘I know. I can’t really believe it. I keep waiting for the snag that will ruin everything.’
‘There’s no snag.’ Renato added quietly, ‘One of us, at least, is going to be lucky in love.’
They chinked glasses. Then Bernardo said uneasily, ‘Lorenzo is still our brother.’
‘I know that.’
‘I think you should be careful.’
‘Of him?’
‘No. Of yourself. Goodnight.’
He went without another word, leaving Renato alone, wishing he could get rid of the tension that plagued him. He poured most of his whisky back into the bottle, knowing that wasn’t the answer. Nor was sleep the answer.
He slammed his hand down, realising that there was no answer. There hadn’t been one since that evening when he’d met a young woman who’d told him to jump in the river. He’d admired her, been amused by her, but he was so used to planning his life as he wished that he hadn’t seen the danger, and had actually encouraged her to marry his brother.
The danger had come in a blinding flash when it was far too late: just before the wedding, when no man of honour could make a move. She’d touched his heart with her vulnerability, an experience so strange that he’d been thrown off balance. And in that confused, blinded state he’d offered her his brotherly help. After that his hands had been tied.
In the cathedral it seemed that Lorenzo had solved the problem. Except that there still echoed through his head the tormenting memory of a young woman, a few hours before what should have been her wedding, her voice carrying sweetly on the night air.
‘I just wanted to say how much I love you-love you-love you-’
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