“Doing so will forever separate you from your family, your life. Even if we did run away together, we still cannot marry in the eyes of the church”
“You are all that is most important to me.”
“Luca, I am an orphan of the olive tree. Little else is known of my life. Not a day passes when I do not think about who my parents are. Do I have a sister or brother or cousins? To be alone in this world is a burden I would not wish on you or our child. I dream of a life filled with family and friends to share not only our happiness, but also our sorrows, but if I cannot have it, I will be satisfied with enjoying it at a distance.”
“If you are my reward, then it would be worth considering. Give me a chance to right the wrong I have done to you. Let’s run away together.”
“My greatest wish is to spend our days as husband and wife.”
“Then come away with me. My future bride does not love me. She is in love with my brother.”
Olivia’s hopes soared as she considered it.
When Luca kept silent, and his expression held concern rather than excitement, she knew something was amiss.
“You’ve spoken with your father, haven’t you?” she asked.
“I have, earlier today, but he will hear nothing of it. First, there is the problem of the Church who views a betrothal as binding as a marriage. Then there is the issue of the blood oath. He sees any change to the blood oath as a dishonorable violation.”
“He’s right.” She raised his palm to her cheek. Tears welled in her eyes. “I love you with every beat of my heart, with every breath, but I cannot marry you if it brings so much discord into everyone’s life. It would not be fair. That is not how I wish to enter into a life together.”
“Then I will keep fighting until I find a way for us to marry.” He pulled her closer, and was about to kiss her, when they heard a shuffling sound from below.
Olivia pushed him away. “What was that?”
Luca raised his index finger to his lips to hush her, and led her back inside, closing the door behind them. In a low voice he whispered, “It must be my father.”
They waited, but heard nothing more.
She wished God in his mercy would prevent the inevitable. Guilt seized her then, for to make such a wish was to court misfortune.
“I should move into the cottage sooner rather than later. Our child will be born soon.”
He set a hand on her belly, his eyes brimming with sadness. He kissed her then, long and lingering.
She succumbed before she could stop him, sensing his need, and accepting him wholeheartedly. Her body responded with a fire that started deep in her loins and thrummed through her with every pulse. He kissed her neck as his hands roamed over her flesh and found their way into her chemise to caress her breasts. She moaned with pleasure, but before her own need overwhelmed resolve, she pushed him away. “Luca, no. We must not.”
He exhaled a pent-up breath and briefly rested his forehead against hers. “I’m sorry. I know. And that is at the root of all our sorrow.” He pulled back a little and kissed her hand instead. Then he turned and walked swiftly from the room.
77
Luca lingered without sleep for the remainder of the night. How beautiful Olivia was, this woman he had met by chance and loved by choice. He could not contemplate a future without her. If he did not do something soon, he might find himself dreaming of Olivia all night and gazing at Giustina all day. Moreover, how long would he be able to keep his love for Olivia a secret?
Guilt surged through him. He was a rogue of the worst sort. In a moment of weakness, he had stolen Olivia’s maidenhood and planted the infant in her belly. And, as if that were not enough, he had pulled her away from everyone she knew – and for what? To be secreted away, relegated into the background of his life like a used tapestry. He refused to let that happen. He would make her his wife. He would present Olivia, his love, to the world as if she were a queen, to stand proudly by his side just as he would stand by her. And he wanted to accomplish it as soon as possible, despite all the impediments that lay in his path. Time permitted him some hope, however – time to find a way for Giustina and Lorenzo to wed so that he could be with Olivia; time so precious, so short, yet with a glimmer of hope that he could change their destiny.
He dressed by candlelight, for dawn had yet to break. Swiftly, he made his way down the stairs and out into the courtyard. The crisp early morning air invigorated his steps as he entered the stable to check on a mare due to foal. A rooster in the courtyard sang out as he swung the side door open and entered. The pungent aroma of horse sweat and manure greeted him. Impatient horses snorted and pawed the ground in anticipation of their morning feed. Dim light in the sky shed a scant light through the open double doors at the far end of the structure.
Midway up the center aisle between the rows of stalls, with his back towards him, Nanino was already busy mucking out a stall. Luca watched as he leaned his pitchfork against the stall and picked up a bucket.
Grinning, Luca snuck up behind the small man, and with both hands, poked him in the ribs.
Nanino turned swiftly and flung the bucket at his assailant. Manure splattered Luca from face to his waist. He stood shocked, piss, shit, and stale straw clinging to him like honey on bread.
Nanino’s face turned scarlet. His nostrils flared and his eyes flashed cold and flinty. He lowered his head and charged, his powerful head butt throwing Luca to the ground.
Luca was astonished. Before he could react, Nanino dove on top of him, punching and kicking, a string of foul curses hurtling from his mouth. “Vaffanculo! Testa di merda! Cagacazzo!”
Luca grabbed hold of the thrashing dwarf and threw him off long enough to rise to his feet. With his fist, he grabbed hold of Nanino’s tunic, lifted him from the ground, and hung him by the back of his garment on a hook on the wall.
“You had better explain yourself!” Luca demanded, his chest heaving from exertion and anger at the unprovoked attack.
“Pompinaro! Porca troia! Stronzo!” Vile diatribes kept flying unabated from the small man’s mouth.
Luca began to walk away, a deliberate attempt to give them both time to cool their tempers.
“Bastardo!” Nanino screamed. “Explain yourself!”
Luca swung around, lips clenched, hands fisted. He walked back to where Nanino hung helplessly on the wall and shoved his face so close, he smelled his fetid onion breath. It nearly made him gag, but he held his ground. “It is you who had better explain yourself, otherwise, I’ll leave you hanging here until your flesh rots from its bones!”
Nanino stared at Luca, and then struck out with fist and leg, but Luca backed away before the squat arms and legs could find their mark.
Luca glowered at Nanino, but the small man’s eyes never wavered. Then his shoulders sagged and his movements stilled. He gave Luca a bleak look, and in a monotone voice simply said, “Olivia.”
Luca flinched and his muscles tensed. “Olivia?”
“That’s what I said – Olivia. Do not play the fool with me. I know what you did to her. You had better explain yourself.”
Luca slumped and his chin dipped to his chest. It seemed as if the air grew heavy around him as the burden of his secret sought release. “How do you know about Olivia?”
“I know everything. Get me down and I’ll tell you.”
With his hands beneath Nanino’s arms, Luca raised him up, freeing the hook from the back of his tunic. He set him on the ground, and they both took a seat on a wooden tool chest.
Luca listened without interruption as Nanino told his tale.
“Whoever my mother was, she was obviously eager to abandon me in that damned olive tree in front of the abbey. The sight of my long torso, large head, and short legs must have disgusted her.”
Luca swallowed back a lump of emotion. In all the years he had known Nanino, this was the first time he had heard him speak at all about his past. Wisely, he let the man talk uninterrupted.
“I was eight s
ummers old when another child was next abandoned in that tree. A girl, and like me, she was alone in the world. Unlike me, however, this child was perfect in every way. We called her Olivia and she truly was an angelic child. All the nuns loved her, especially the abbess and Sister Vincenza, but I loved her even more, as a brother for a sister, and have always felt the need to protect her.” He looked angrily at Luca. “Obviously I failed.”
Luca struggled to put the anguish of his predicament into words. “There’s nothing more I want than to wed Olivia.”
“So speak to Enrico and Carlo and break the damned betrothal agreement,” Nanino said. “Of course then there is the problem of the Church. Good luck in getting them to agree.”
“My father refuses to amend the blood oath and I’ve already spoken to the Church. Even if everyone agrees, the Church will not dispense with the betrothal so easily, but I’m determined to find a way.”
“Bah, your father and his damn oath,” Nanino dismissed. “Then we have to bide our time and wait for an opportunity to present itself.”
“We?” Luca asked, brows lifted.
“Of course. I will do everything that I can to help. Although nothing will excuse the fact you got an innocent woman with child, I do know Olivia is fond of you. And for her, there is nothing I would not do.” Nanino rose and picked up a cloth that lay next to a barrel. He dipped the cloth in water and tossed it at Luca. “Clean yourself up. You stink, bastardo.”
78
Luca encountered his father just as he entered the villa.
Enrico grimaced at the sight of him. “What the hell happened to you? It smells like you’ve bathed in horse shit!”
“It’s nothing. A minor accident is all.” Luca whipped off his filthy shirt and left it in a heap beside the door. “I’m going to wash and then I need to speak to you.”
Enrico nodded. “I’ll wait for you in the dining hall.”
A short time later, after changing into a fresh shirt and clean braies, Luca joined his father. They sat on opposite sides of a table set with a platter of sausages, a quarter of cheese, and a round loaf of yesterday’s bread between them.
“I trust you slept well?” Luca broke off a larger than usual chunk of bread and reached for a plump sausage.
“I slept not at all.”
Luca raised an eyebrow. “I’ll have you moved to a different room.”
“My lack of sleep has nothing to do with the room or the bed or anything else. It is because of you.”
“Me?”
“Yes, you, or rather, what I overheard last night.”
Midway to popping a bite of sausage into his mouth, Luca froze. He set the food down and leaned back. “What did you overhear?”
“Enough to know you would throw everything away to be with that woman you took to your bed last night.” His lip curled in irritation. “Who is she?”
Luca held himself still, assessing the depth of his father’s reaction. “I took no one to bed last night, but yes, there is a woman in this house. She is someone you do not know.”
“That is not what I asked. I want to know who she is and where she came from.”
Luca hesitated. How much had his father overheard? Better to tell him the truth instead of the story he had invented about Olivia being his friend’s widow. “A young woman from the abbey at Sant’Andrea Montecchio .”
Enrico raised his brows.
Clearly, this news surprised his father. Luca took it as a good sign.
“And who is her family?”
Luca toyed with his bread, flattening it and turning it round, ripping it crumb by crumb. “She has no family. She was abandoned in infancy. The nuns raised her.”
“How did she come to be here?”
Luca shook his head and looked away. “It is a long story, one I do not wish to repeat.”
“Send her back to the abbey. You are to be married soon. Dowry payments have been paid yearly by the Beneventos, all of which have been spent.”
Luca looked his father in the eyes. “I know we discussed this yesterday, but I will tell you again. I am not going to marry Giustina.”
“Impossible. You and Giustina both consented. Besides, there must be just cause to break a betrothal contract.”
“For all I care, tell them I’m a fornicator. I am certain the Church will consider that just cause. And I doubt anyone will deny it.”
“Bah, all men are fornicators. You want to ruin your good name, our family’s good name? Destroy years of planning and promises? Carlo, with his poor leg, is happy to provide you with Villa Bianca as the largest portion of his daughter’s dowry. And you and your brother will have an equal share in my land. Now, after a good cock-stand, you decide you do not give a fig about your future or that of your family?”
“A cock-stand? You think this is about a good bedding? I am a fantino, one of the best. I can have my choice of women if I want.”
“Then what is this about?”
“She is going to have my baby.”
Enrico closed his eyes and shook his head. “You won’t be the only man who has sired a bastard. Send mother and child away. Keep a roof over their heads, food in their bellies, and clothes on their backs.” He looked around the room. “You have more than enough to support them.”
“You don’t understand. It is about love and family. I want my child to bear my name. Can you not see that Lorenzo is meant for Giustina? They share a love for the land. Giustina would never be happy with life here in Siena or travelling about from town to town to race.”
“Never ask me to break my bond. It will not happen.” From the pouch at his waist, Enrico pulled out a scroll and unfurled it. He set it down on the trestle and pushed it toward Luca. “This is the final contract. Sign it.”
Luca stared down at the words. It was all there; the description of the land that would become his, even the date when they were to be married, a mere two months away.
“I refuse.” Luca shoved the document away, sat back in his chair, and crossed his arms.
Enrico leaned forward. “Do not be a fool, son. If you do not sign, then you will inherit nothing from me or Carlo.” With one hand, he grabbed the stem of the goblet beside his plate and with the other, grabbed the flask to pour wine. After a hearty swallow, he slammed it down and stared back at him. “You may enjoy great success today, but what will happen when you grow older and you lose against younger, more agile men? Will horse breeding be enough?”
Luca gave his father a determined look. “I will find a way.”
“Do you think you are the only man who has found himself obligated in marriage to one woman but in love with another? Keep this woman as your mistress. It is not unheard of. In this way, you can keep your wealth and bed both women.” He patted his son on the shoulder. “Sign the document. Do what is right and expected. What’s done is done. The Church will not allow the betrothal to be broken. Family always comes first. A family’s love is the oil that eases friction, the cement that binds us together, the music that brings harmony, and comfort when we falter.” Enrico called for a servant to bring plume and ink.
“Save your breath, Father. I refuse to sign.” Luca pushed back his chair and strode towards the door.
“If you do not sign these documents, you might be arrested and imprisoned. What will happen to your woman then?”
Luca stopped and turned slowly around. “And who would turn me in? You? Besides, what does it matter whether I sign or not if the betrothal cannot be rescinded by you or the Church?”
“Prudenza grows impatient. She has already been muttering that if the wedding does not take place soon, she will take recourse in the archiepiscopal court and oblige you to keep the betrothal. You will face heavy fines, possibly even imprisonment. She will see you stripped of all that you own. How will you support your woman then?” Enrico paused and rested his hand on Luca’s shoulder. “If you truly love this woman, you cannot risk incarceration or impoverishment. Sign the documents or not. The Church considers the bet
rothal as binding as a marriage. There is no other option. You will be married in sixty days.”
Enrico swept past him and left. Luca returned to the trestle and stared down at the betrothal documents, his father’s words still ringing in his ears.
With quick hands, Luca ripped the document in half and tossed it into the brazier.
79
The next morning, Luca brooded as he accompanied his father to the courtyard where Nanino already waited, mounted and holding the reins of his father’s saddled horse.
Nanino’s mood since arriving seemed black. Every time Luca caught Nanino looking at him, he read suspicion in the dwarf's eyes. Luca sighed. It was as if his entire world had shifted; everything and everyone was thrown off kilter. Somehow, he would find a way to set it all right again. If he had only himself to worry about, he would not hesitate to abandon everything and run off. But he must think about Olivia and the baby’s well-being first. He wanted to provide for them, enrich their lives, see them living in comfort and care. He could not risk losing everything he owned if Prudenza brought him before the Church to answer for breaking a contract; and he had no doubt that she would indeed take such action.
A knot formed in his gut. Every fiber in his body pulsed with the desire to find a way out of his predicament. The only victory he had won when it came to his pending marriage was that he insisted the wedding happen here in Siena and it would be a very small affair, with only family and a few close friends present. “Expect us in a few weeks,” Enrico said. He paused to study Luca’s reaction.
“I’ll have extra rooms prepared,” Luca said, void of emotion.
“Don’t look so glum, son.” His expression softened and he put his arm around Luca. “Trust me. One day, you will see that I am right. It is best for everyone.”
Orphan of the Olive Tree - Historical Romance Saga Page 26