Her sons escorted their brides to an altar in a small chapel to the right of the nave. Standing before the sacred table, Luca and Lorenzo locked joyous gazes on their brides.
Giustina laid tentative fingers on Lorenzo’s sleeve, and he placed his hand over hers.
Luca looked at Olivia and squeezed her hand in encouragement as the ceremony began.
Once more, the bishop made the sign of the cross. “In nomine Patris, et Filii, et Spiritus Sancti. Amen.”
Enrico reached out for her hand.
Uncertain, Felicia looked at it as if it were foreign. How long had it been since they had last held hands or embraced? Tentatively, she rested her hand in his. It was a start, a touch of friendship. Pleased, Enrico smiled warmly in return.
Before them, their children obeyed the rituals of the ceremony and Mass, standing, kneeling, and praying. Finally, the bishop asked them to join their right hands and prostrate themselves before the altar. He spread a silk veil over each couple and prayed over them, blessing them with incense and holy water. Afterwards, he asked them to rise.
Felicia always enjoyed this part of the blessing. The couples rose, careful to keep the veil over them as they stood. When they succeeded, Carlo and Enrico stepped forward, exchanged grins, and in a gesture of good fortune, tore the veils before whipping them off the couples. Felicia scooped up the veils, folded them over her arm so her daughters-in-law could retain them as keepsakes to tuck into the bottom of their cassones.
Finally, the Mass and blessing concluded, Lorenzo and Luca escorted their wives, arm in arm, down the nave along the central aisle.
When they burst into the outdoor sunshine, Luca took Olivia into his arms and kissed her, his eyes flaming with love. When their lips parted, he took her chin in his fingertips. “Signora Ventura.”
“Si, that is my name now, and it is the most beautiful name in the entire world.”
“One that I have longed for all my life,” Giustina added as Lorenzo kissed her.
Laughing, Felicia tossed small linen pouches containing five almonds symbolizing health, wealth, happiness, fertility, and longevity, at the two couples. She embraced first Olivia, and then Giustina, welcoming them into her family.
They all climbed into their respective chariots to return to the villa. As they went, the people of Siena stopped to wave and shout buona fortuna as the brides and grooms rode past, for to be smiled upon by a happy bride augured good fortune.
Inside the villa, they entered the dining hall where a table had been set for an informal wedding banquet. From the cradle set in the corner of the room, came a tiny squeal.
Olivia hurried toward it, smiling and cooing at the sight of Giuda, who awoke because of all the ruckus. She picked him up and Luca joined them.
Soon, they all sat down to eat. Rosina produced a roasted suckling pig. They feasted on all manner of roasted vegetables, loaves of fresh bread, and cheeses. Merriment and laughter filled the room as they ate and celebrated.
If Giustina and Olivia thought about Prudenza, they did not show it. Felicia could not help but wonder where Prudenza went all these weeks. How sad to miss the most important day in a daughter’s life. But the woman had brought it on herself, and Felicia refused to feel sorry for her.
Later, after the meal, Felicia reached for her grandson and Olivia handed him to her. The child’s rosebud mouth parted as a slight breeze lifted his light gown. Holding her grandson brought her the greatest thrill. She looked forward to watching the child grow.
Time passed, and soon, the time came for all to retire. Felicia kissed her daughters-in-law on the cheek and held them for a few moments until her sons led them from the room. She lovingly tightened her hold on her grandson and looked at Enrico, who stood beside Carlo. Both men’s eyes glimmered with pride as they looked at their grandson.
“Our blood oath has been fulfilled, amico mio,” Carlo said, giving Enrico a hearty pat on the back. He lifted his sleeve and revealed his scar. “All these long years, we have both borne the scars we carved on ourselves that day after the battle in the Monteaperti hills. Now, it has all come true. Do you remember our oath?”
Enrico grinned as he rolled up his own sleeve to display his scar. “Every word. How could I forget it?”
The two recited it together for the last time:
As the sea to the river, as the seed to the tree,
As the stone to the mountain, I bond you to me.
From this day forward, our families shall be one.
A curse on our families if this vow be undone.
We blend our blood in honor’s eternal flame.
Fruit of my loins shall carry your name.
“We have fulfilled the oath,” Enrico said. “We can put it to rest now.”
“And if you both want to enjoy the rest of your lives and live in peace, then you will never make a blood oath again,” Felicia admonished. “It is one thing to promise something, another to keep it. This oath of yours nearly cost our children their happiness and destroyed our families.”
“She is right.” Enrico grinned. “We’d best heed her wisdom. A good wife is the key to a good home.”
Carlo’s features fell into a dark frown.
Felicia laid a hand on his arm. “Have you heard from Prudenza?” she asked softly. Every time she broached the question, he had given her no response.
Carlo fell into a chair and placed his head in his hands. Then he looked up at them. “I could not live with what she did to you, to me, to our families. I gave her enough of a dowry to enter an abbey. Frankly, I don’t care where she goes, but she cannot come home. At least not until she acknowledges the harm she has caused everyone. Perhaps one day, she will seek forgiveness and perhaps we will find it in our hearts to absolve her, each in our own way, but until that day comes, I do not want her with us.”
“I am sorry it came to this, Carlo,” Felicia said. “But I’m glad that we learned the truth. You have done what is right, as difficult as it must be. If there is anything you need, you need only ask. I will help you in any way I can.”
Felicia felt no empathy for her nemesis. All these years, she had suffered Prudenza’s cruel machinations. Carlo made the right decision in removing her from their lives, even if only temporarily. It would give them all time to heal and gain perspective.
“This I have always known, and I am blessed because of it.” As weak as it was, Carlo managed a smile. He wished them good night and left the room.
“I promised Olivia I would take care of the baby tonight,” Felicia said, rocking her grandson in her arms. “And it is time to put this young rascal to bed.”
She led the way up the stairs while Enrico carried up the cradle. After setting it beside the bed, Felicia kissed her sleeping grandson’s cheek and placed him carefully in it, covering him with the delicate blanket within.
Enrico’s arms enfolded her and she turned around in his embrace. As he lowered his head to kiss her, she faced away.
“Enrico, I’m not ready yet. There is still too much between us and I need time to reconcile it all.”
His visage was plainly disappointed, but then understanding look came over him. “Then you shall have all the time you need.” He kissed her cheek. “Rest, amore. I will see you in the morning. We can spend the day together.”
“I would like that very much.” Felicia smiled then watched him turn around and quietly leave her. Felicia imagined him crossing the corridor to the spare room at the end of the passage. She felt a pang of loneliness, but it was fleeting. Only through care and caution could they restore what they once had. For now, however, she was content.
121
Long after everyone had retired for the night, Rosina lit a candle from the hearth before banking the fire. She heard the rear door creak open.
Nanino stood in the doorway. His gaze roamed over her body with such intensity, she felt the heat course through her at his boldness.
Without a word, he came to her. He took the candlestick and set it o
n the table. Taking both her hands, he raised them to his lips. “The moment I laid eyes on you, I knew I wanted you as my wife.” He gave her hands a squeeze. “Will you do me the honor of marrying me?”
She studied him as she pondered what response she would give. “Oh, Nanino, I feel the same way, but I have to refuse your offer.”
His eyes widened. “But why?” he stuttered.
“I have no dowry to bring to the marriage.”
“That is all that is preventing you from saying yes? A mere dowry?”
She nodded. “My family is very poor.”
“I do not need any dowry. I only need you.” He paused. “I have much to offer you.”
Slowly, a sly smile rose on Rosina’s lips. “You do? And I thought you were only a stable master.”
A grin spread across Nanino’s face. “Of course. I may be small, but as I have stated before, two thirds of my body is brain and the other third is –”
“Hush,” she said boldly. “I have already heard you brag of your manhood,” she teased. She caressed his cheek. “Yes, I will marry you.”
He gave her a heartwarming smile. “You’ll see. I will make you very happy.”
She set her hands on her hips. “And you had better keep it that way all the days of our lives, if you know what is good for you.”
He laughed and pulled her to him. Their lips met in a long, lingering kiss. With his thumb and middle finger, Nanino extinguished the candle flame and enfolded her in his arms.
In the dark, Rosina giggled. “Ah, so you have been telling the truth all along.”
122
When Olivia stepped into Luca’s bedchamber, she came to a stop in the doorway. The most incredible sight greeted her. Flames from countless candles lit every corner of the room, shedding light from atop tables, chairs, and the hearth’s mantle. Between the candles, pink lotuses filled elegant vases, their petals tightly folded against the night. The combined aroma of gently melting wax amid the rich fragrance of the lotuses intoxicated her, a gift to all her senses.
The display left her speechless with pleasure.
“I take it you like my surprise,” Luca said as he put his arm around her waist and pulled her farther into the room.
“I’ve never seen anything so beautiful,” she whispered, as she took in the numerous, dormant blooms.
“They will be even more beautiful in the morning when the blossoms are kissed by the morning sunlight and the petals unfold – a symbol for us to forget the past and embrace the future.”
Olivia brought a lotus to her nose and inhaled its rich aroma. From this day forward, she knew the fragrance would evoke memories of pure bliss. And she locked this moment deep into her thoughts and heart.
“We will have a beautiful life together,” Luca whispered into her ear. He swept her into his arms and laid her down on the bed.
Against the candlelight, his features were soft, his expression full of admiration. “I cannot believe that you are finally my wife.”
“We have been through much together,” Olivia said, grazing his cheek with her hand.
He kissed her then, a long lingering kiss that ignited her passion.
She smiled up at him. “We have tonight, and then we must be parted while I am at the abbey fulfilling my penance.”
He pinched his face into a scowl. “It will be unbearable to abstain for three entire months.”
“But necessary, and worth it,” she added. “It will give me time to explain all that has happened to the abbess and Sister Vincenza. Only then will we be free of the past forever.”
“And you will no longer be the orphan of the olive tree. Instead, you shall be known as Signora Ventura. What say you to that?”
“I say that I am the luckiest woman in the world. We will build a strong family. Our children will know where they came from and we will indulge them with love and attention.” Drawing his mouth again to hers, she gave herself fully to her husband.
In his arms, she had found love. In this villa, she had found a home.
And she was an orphan no more.
About The Author
Mirella Sichirollo Patzer lives with her family in Cochrane, Alberta, Canada.
Orphan of the Olive Tree is her fourth novel.
To learn more about her, visit her website and blogs at:
http://mirellapatzer.com
Orphan of the Olive Tree - Historical Romance Saga Page 38