by Lucy Gordon
‘No wonder you looked green around the gills when I said that.’
‘I could have killed him,’ Leo confessed. ‘I wanted to tell you the truth but I couldn’t, because I knew you wouldn’t want to be beholden to me. But I’ve thought of a way around that. We get married and then it’s your wedding present, and we’re all straight.’
She stared. ‘You’re serious, aren’t you?’
‘Well, the way I see it, if you marry me, all that disgusting money will be yours too, and then you’ll have to shut up about it.’
She considered this. ‘OK, it’s a deal.’
She didn’t say she loved him then. She said it later that night, when he was breathing deeply beside her, the sleep of peace and satiety, as he always did when they’d released each other from passion by indulging it without limit. He slept heavily, so she could smooth his hair, kiss him without his knowing, and whisper the words she didn’t know how to say when he heard her.
Another night he brought wine and peaches, and they sat feasting and talking.
‘How do your family come to be out here?’ she asked. ‘If you’re Venetian counts, what are you doing in Tuscany?’
‘How can you ask? Everyone knows the evil aristos commandeer property wherever they can. That’s how we keep our feet on the necks of the deserving poor.’
‘Oh, very funny! I’ll thump you in a minute. What are you doing here?’
‘My grandfather, Count Angelo, fell in love with a woman from Tuscany, called Maria Rinucci. This-’ he indicated the valley ‘-was her dowry. Since he had the Venetian property to bequeath to his eldest son and heir-that’s my uncle Francesco-this was used to provide an inheritance for Francesco’s younger brothers, Bertrando and Silvio.
‘Silvio took his share in cash and married a banker’s daughter in Rome. Their son is Marco. You won’t meet him next week because something’s gone wrong between him and Harriet, his English fiancée. She’s gone back to England and he’s followed her, trying to talk her around. Let’s hope he brings her back for our wedding.’
He stroked her face, trying to distract her with the thought of their wedding. She accepted his caress and kissed him enthusiastically, but she wouldn’t be distracted.
‘And?’ she insisted.
‘Bertrando liked living on the land, so he came out here and married a widow, Elissa, who became my mother.
‘She died soon after I was born, and he married again, Donna, Guido’s mother. But then it turned out that Elissa hadn’t been a widow, as everyone had thought, but still married to her first husband. So I was illegitimate, and as she was dead it was too late to validate her marriage to my father, so that was that. Guido and I kind of swapped inheritances.
‘I can’t tell you how glad I am now that we did. Because otherwise, you and I-’
‘Nix,’ she said as he’d known she would say. ‘I couldn’t marry you if you had a title. It’s against my principles, and besides-well anyway, it doesn’t matter. But your family wouldn’t fancy me as the countess.’
‘You don’t know anything about them. Forget those stereotypes you’re carrying in your head. We don’t all eat off gold plate-’
‘Shame, I was looking forward to that.’
‘Will you hush, and let me finish? And don’t look at me like that or I’ll forget what I was going to stay.’
‘Well, there are more interesting things to do-’
‘When I’ve finished,’ he said, seizing her wandering fingers. ‘My family aren’t the way you think. All they’ll care about is that we love each other. Guido and Dulcie have just married for love, so did Uncle Francesco. He waited forty years for her to say yes, and refused to marry anyone else. She had some funny ideas too and he was a patient man, but I’m not. If you think I’m waiting forty years for you to see sense, you’re nuts. Now, you were saying about doing more interesting things…’
CHAPTER NINE
S ELENA had tried to keep it light, but she was more nervous about Leo’s family than she would have let on. He’d said her head was full of stereotypes, and it was partly true. Her dread was concentrated on the thought of doing or saying something that would embarrass Leo by drawing down icy stares on herself. She would rather ride a bull than risk looking foolish.
With a few days to go the house was turned upside down. Leo and Selena changed rooms, retreating to smaller ones at the back of the house so that his uncle and aunt might have the best, with Guido and Dulcie in the next best.
It made Selena stare to see Gina preparing the house for a gala occasion, with the assistance of two maids, a cook and two extra girls in from the village. Being waited on by servants unnerved her.
‘Well, you’re the mistress of the house now,’ Leo said. ‘Dismiss the lot of them, and do it virtuously yourself.’
‘Oh, yeah?’ she demanded, checkmated. Leo’s eyes were full of wicked fun.
‘You could do all the cooking as well,’ he suggested.
‘Have you tasted my cooking?’
‘Have I-? I had a sandwich you made the other day, and I’m still getting up in the night. Leave them to their job, carissima, and you get on with your job, which is the horses.’
She was virtually running that side of things now. Things were simpler with horses. You knew what was expected of you. That made her think of Elliot, and she felt a pang of homesickness. Elliot was the faithful friend who’d seen her through the bad times, and whom she might never see again.
After the first bout of homesickness she found it could attack again without warning. The sheer grandeur of the house when Gina had finished transforming it had the same effect on her, making her think of a mini van, a battered horse trailer at the back, Elliot and herself chasing the far horizons with just enough money to reach the next stop, then relying on each other to win some for the next stage.
There were far horizons here, she thought, looking out on Tuscany’s rolling hills, but they seemed somehow tame now that she knew they belonged to Leo, and by extension to herself. There was no mystery in a horizon that you owned. And no excitement either.
But she pushed those thoughts aside. She knew the coming visit was important to Leo. Whatever he might say to disparage his aristocratic background, these people were the family he loved, and she suspected that he shared their values more than he realised. The thought made him seem a little distant.
As the day grew nearer she became so demoralised that when Leo suggested that she buy a couple of dresses she made no protest. She chose items as unobtrusive as possible because she was no longer sure of herself, and she didn’t want to be noticed.
Count Francesco Calvani had decided to travel the hundred and sixty miles from Venice in his own chauffeur-driven limousine, which he felt would be more comfortable for his beloved Liza, who disliked trains.
Guido and Dulcie travelled in their own jaunty sports car. With a stop at Florence for lunch they made Bella Podena by late afternoon. They had driven ahead of the two, and arrived before them.
‘We just couldn’t wait to meet you,’ Guido said, enveloping Selena in a hug.
She liked him at once. He bore very little physical resemblance to his brother, but their eyes had the same twinkle. In Leo perhaps it was warmer, and in Guido more mischievous, but it was the link between them.
Dulcie was almost as slender as Selena herself, but with a mass of wavy blonde hair that Selena secretly envied. She too hugged her, and said eagerly how glad she was that she would soon have a sister. Selena began to relax.
A few minutes later they gathered outside for the arrival of the Count and Countess Calvani. The shiny black car glided to a standstill, the chauffeur emerged and proceeded to open one of the passenger doors.
From it descended a tiny woman with a lean face and hooded eyes. Selena had a strange feeling that she was full of tension as she looked around her.
I’ll bet she’s looking down on us because this is a farm, she thought, angry for Leo’s sake. Just because she’s used to a pal
ace…
She saw the count appear from his side of the car and smile at his wife, who smiled back and laid her hand on his arm. Together they entered the house, and the introductions were made.
Count Francesco Calvani had the family charm. He too embraced Selena like a long-lost daughter and spoke to her in excellent English. Liza smiled and shook her hand, then made a stilted little speech of welcome which had to be translated into English. Selena thanked her in terms equally stilted, which the count translated into Venetian.
The two women looked at each other across a chasm.
As mistress of the house Selena escorted Liza to her room, and gave thanks for Dulcie who came too, and translated them to each other. She finally escaped, thanking heaven for a merciful release, and had a horrible feeling that the countess was doing the same.
She had a feeling of being stranded in a desert. She’d spent the last few years doing something she did well, and because of it she had confidence in herself. But now her confidence seemed to have drained away through the soles of her feet. Everything she did felt wrong, even when Leo smiled encouragement and told her she was doing well.
Her dress felt dowdy beside the countess’s quiet elegance and Dulcie’s glowing beauty. When Gina drew her into the dining room to approve the elegant table settings she wanted to sink from the conviction that Gina knew that refined dining was a mystery to her, and despised her accordingly.
‘That’s great,’ she said desperately. ‘It looks lovely, Gina.’
‘The food is ready to serve, signorina.’
‘In that case-I suppose I should bring people in.’
She did this by conveying the message to Leo and letting him make the announcement. She knew she should have done it herself, but she would rather have ridden a bull than stand up in that company and invite them into ‘her’ dining room. She began to wonder when there was a flight back to Texas.
Things improved a little when she found herself talking to Dulcie. They swapped stories about ‘life before Calvani’ as Dulcie teasingly put it. Dulcie was thrilled by Selena’s background.
‘I’ve always loved Westerns,’ she said longingly. ‘You mean you do real Wild West stuff? Roping and riding and such?’
‘Riding. I don’t actually do roping-although, I can. This guy showed me how. Said I was pretty good.’
‘Are you going to do roping at Grosseto tomorrow?’
Selena shook her head. ‘Women don’t do that in rodeos. We just do barrel racing.’
Dulcie’s eyes were mischievous. ‘Do you think the Grosseto organisers know that?’
Selena grinned. ‘You’re wicked,’ she said appreciatively, and Dulcie nodded.
From the other end of the table Guido and Leo watched their womenfolk with satisfaction.
‘We always do it,’ Guido observed.
‘What’s that?’ his brother asked.
‘Uncle Francesco has a saying that the Calvanis always choose the best, the best food, the best wine, the best women. We did well, brother. Both of us.’
The meal was superb. The count congratulated Leo’s cook and the atmosphere became genial. This lasted until the subject of the wedding came up, and the count immediately declared that of course it must take place in St Mark’s Basilica, in Venice.
‘Selena and I thought the parish church in Morenza would suit us,’ Leo said.
‘The parish-?’ The count seemed lost for words. ‘A Calvani, marry in a village?’
‘This is our home,’ Leo said firmly. ‘It’s what Selena and I both wish.’
‘But-’
‘No, uncle,’ Leo said firmly.
He would have said more but the countess laid her hand on his arm and said something Selena didn’t understand, except that she caught her own name.
‘All right, all right,’ he said placatingly. ‘I won’t say any more.’
He patted his wife’s hand and responded in the same language she’d used.
You didn’t have to be a genius to know what they’d said, Selena reckoned. The countess couldn’t think what the fuss was about. St Mark’s was too good for Selena Gates. And the count had agreed with her.
Luckily everyone wanted an early night, to be ready for the pleasures of the following day. Normally Selena slept easily, but tonight she lay awake for hours, wondering what she was doing here.
They left early for Grosseto, the family to take up position in a hotel room Leo had booked for them, which overlooked the procession. Leo and Selena went straight to the meeting place from where the procession was to start.
Today they were both dressed to kill, in the finest available from Delia’s stall, cowboy shirts, buttoned to the neck, colourful cowboy boots and belts with large silver buckles. When Leo had rammed a stetson squarely on his head, and Selena had settled hers on at a rakish angle they were ready for the parade.
It was quite a parade. The town band had turned out in force, well rehearsed, and if it sounded a little too Italian to be authentic nobody cared for that. The horse-men, or butteri as they were known locally, had the rough splendour of men who lived hard lives and performed the difficult feats of roping and riding not only in performance but in their everyday lives.
After the parade everyone moved to a nearby field for the contests that would take up the afternoon. First off was the bucking-bronco contest. Leo had elected to enter this, and did creditably without winning. Then the barrels were set up, a voice from a loudspeaker told the crowd all about Selena and predicted that she would do the circuit in no more than fourteen seconds.
This gave her a real challenge as the barrels were set just too far apart for that, and Peri lacked experience. The two of them gave it all they had, taking fourteen and a half, which didn’t stop the announcer yelling, ‘Fourteen seconds,’ as she finished. And the cheerful crowd took his word for it.
If she thought the day was over she had a shock coming. Next came the calf roping, and some mischievous person had entered her in it. Guido always swore that it wasn’t him.
Like Leo she managed well enough not to lose face, and the afternoon ended in a riot of good fellowship. The Calvanis cheered her to the echo, all except the countess, who applauded, but quietly, and left Selena wondering what she was really thinking. ‘Brash and unladylike, I reckon,’ she thought. ‘Can’t be helped.’
There were a dozen food stalls selling local specialities, and they all consumed freely, even the countess, who tucked in with gusto.
‘She comes from these parts,’ Leo explained. ‘She doesn’t often get the chance of good Tuscan eats.’
But by the time they reached home everyone was hungry again, and Selena’s thoughts had flown back across the Atlantic.
‘I could just do with a hot dog,’ she sighed.
‘We could make some,’ Gina said. ‘What do we need?’
‘Sausages and rolls.’
‘Rolls we have. Sausages I must send for.’
‘But it’s late, the shops are shut.’
‘I will send Sara. The butcher is her uncle.’
In half an hour the little maid was back with her uncle’s finest. Selena made hot dogs, Tuscan style, and everybody pronounced them excellent.
Even the countess ate two, Selena noticed. And she smiled at her, and said, ‘Grazie, Selena.’
Afterwards, as they drank coffee and sipped wine, Dulcie said to her, ‘Do you know, you’re just the way I expected.’
Selena was startled. ‘You knew about me?’
‘When Leo came back from Texas he couldn’t talk about anything else but you, how he’d met you, and you were wonderful, and he didn’t have your number any more. He was going crazy. If you hadn’t come over here, I’m pretty sure he’d have taken off to find you.’
Selena looked up to find Leo’s eyes on them. He was grinning, embarrassed, but too good-natured to mind being laughed at.
‘So now you know,’ he told Selena.
‘Go on,’ she ribbed him, ‘I knew anyway. Always reckoned you
couldn’t resist me.’
He slipped a friendly arm about her.
‘On the other hand,’ he mused, ‘It was you who came looking for me.’
‘In a pig’s eye I came looking for you. I came for the rodeo.’
‘Sure you did.’
‘Sure I did.’
‘Well, it’s over now,’ he said, ‘so you can go back.’ But his arm tightened as he spoke.
The others were watching them, smiling.
‘Then I’ll go,’ she said defiantly.
‘Fine. Go.’ The arm tightened.
‘I’m going.’
‘Good.’
‘Good.’
‘Oh, get on with it and kiss each other,’ Guido said in exasperation. ‘I need a drink. Ouch!’ He rubbed his ribs which had collided with a wifely elbow.
After that everybody sat up much too late, unwilling to let a happy occasion end. Toast followed toast until they all trooped off to bed.
Next morning they parted with many promises to see each other soon, when Leo and Selena tied the knot. Even the countess smiled and kissed Selena’s cheek, so that she began to feel she’d been worrying about nothing.
She and Leo stood, arms entwined, until the last car had vanished from sight. Then they hurried back to work.
Now they were in the season of harvests. Leo had grapes and olives to bring safely in, and there would be no time to marry until that was done. Selena became fascinated by this side of their lives, and spent long hours in the saddle, riding his acres with him.
They would return every evening, worn out but content, and satisfied with what they were bringing to fruition. Gradually her restlessness abated. There was nothing to worry about, and this happy life would go on forever.
The phone call came out of the blue one morning. Selena emerged from the shower to find Leo looking harassed.
‘Uncle Francesco has been on the telephone. He wants us to drop everything and go to Venice now, this minute.’
‘Is he crazy. We’re about to start bringing in the grapes.’
‘That’s what I told him. He just said it was urgent.’
‘You don’t think he wants to have another go at you about the wedding.’