“II Principle di Sogino e La Principessa Florencia di Sogino!”
Extremely interested. Lord Mere saw a tall distinguished white-haired man, whose aristocratic features might have been sculpted by Michelangelo, walk towards the Contessa.
He had a dignity and pride in his bearing that seemed to emanate from him so strongly that Lord Mere felt that nobody could mistake him for anything but an aristocrat.
Then, as the Prince bent his head to kiss the hand of the Contessa, Lord Mere saw the girl standing behind him.
He had expected somebody attractive with dark hair like her brother Antonio.
To his surprise, however, the Princess Florencia had pale gold hair and he felt that he had seen her somewhere before.
Then a moment later the Contessa, having welcomed them, said,
“Florencia, may I introduce Lord Mere, who has just arrived from England.”
It was then, as Florencia looked at him, that Lord Mere knew where he had seen her.
Not in person, but in pictures painted by Raphael, whose exquisite portrayals of the Virgin Mary he had always deeply and devoutly admired.
He saw the same perfect oval face, the same small pointed chin, the same look of innocence and purity and the same large eyes transparently clear as a summer sky.
For the moment he was bemused by her beauty, then, as she gave him a faint smile, Lord Mere saw that she was afraid and in need of protection.
He was not certain how he knew this and yet it was all quite clear in his mind.
He took her hand in his and thought, although he felt he must be mistaken, that, as their fingers touched, a little tremor ran through her.
The Contessa was talking to the Prince and Florencia said in a soft voice that seemed to Lord Mere to be like the music that he had heard in his dreams,
“I have always longed to visit England!”
“You have? Why?”
His eyes were on her face and it was hard for some reason he could not define to understand what she was saying.
“I have always thought of it as such a happy land, a place where people are content and have no wish to do anything but live at peace with their neighbours.”
He knew that she was thinking of the feuds and vendettas which raged between so many Italian families and which in particular had affected hers.
“I think that is true,” Lord Mere replied. “But you live in one of the most beautiful Cities in the world!”
“Beauty, the beauty we all long for and seek,” Florencia said, “should be in our hearts.”
They were words that Lord Mere had never heard spoken by so young a girl.
He was aware as she spoke that her eyes flickered for a moment towards Vincente Gorizia.
As soon as he had arrived, he had gone to talk animatedly to a lady who had rushed towards him the moment after he had been greeted by the Contessa and had drawn him aside as if she had something special to say to him.
Now, as if he was suddenly aware of who was present, Vincente turned round and came towards Florencia, saying as he reached her,
“You did not meet me today, as you said you would!”
He spoke sharply and his voice seemed to grate on the air between them.
It suddenly struck Lord Mere that if Florencia was beautiful and it would be difficult to find anybody more lovely, then Vincente Gorizia was everything that was ugly and distasteful.
“I-I am sorry,” Florencia said softly, “but Papa wanted me at home and I therefore stayed with him.”
“Excuses! Excuses!” Vincente Gorizia exclaimed. “It is surprising, Florencia, that you don’t run out of them!”
She did not reply to him, but merely looked unhappy and Lord Mere found himself instinctively wanting to strike the young man for upsetting anything as lovely as the girl who stood by him.
It was impossible for him to say anything, but, as if what he was feeling transmitted itself to the Italian, Vincente said rudely,
“I suppose, like all your race, my Lord, you have come to Florence looking for what you can take back to your own country. I am sure that you will not be disappointed. There are quite a number of people ready to sell their birthright for a few golden guineas!”
He spoke contemptuously in a way that was like a challenge and Lord Mere was aware that Florencia seemed suddenly to go pale.
She turned her head away as if she could not bear to look at him.
“I assure you,” Lord Mere replied, “I have come to Florence with no more ulterior motive than to see my old friend, Sir Julius, and to enjoy the company of his delightful friends.”
He spoke so pleasantly that he saw Florencia look at him with what he thought was an expression of gratitude in her large eyes.
But the Prince made a sound that was little less than a snort and, turning on his heel, he walked back towards the lady he had previously been speaking to.
An ill-mannered young boor, Lord Mere thought and then heard Florencia say softly,
“I-I am sorry.”
“There is no reason for you to apologise.”
“But there is! I don’t want you to have a bad impression on your first night in Florence.”
“I assure you, my only impression is that I am overwhelmed by the beauty of what I am seeing,” Lord Mere replied.
He looked at her intently as he spoke and because she understood the compliment behind the words a faint flush crept into Florencia’s cheeks.
Lord Mere had a sudden fear that he might be forced to leave her and he said quickly,
“Will you dance with me?”
The question took her by surprise and she looked at her father as if for his approval, only to find that he was deeply engrossed in conversation with the Contessa and they had been joined by the Prince di Gorizia.
It appeared to be a subject that absorbed them completely and, without waiting for Florencia’s reply, Lord Mere put his arm around her and drew her onto the dance floor.
Now the spirited waltz had changed to a softer more romantic one.
Because Florencia was so small and light, Lord Mere felt as if he held in his arms something so ethereal that she could not really be human.
He had danced with and made love to so many women and they were so much a part of his existence that he could not imagine life without them.
And yet, as he touched Florencia, he knew that there was something different about her, something so strange that he could not analyse it or understand it. He only knew for certain that it was there.
They danced in silence until, as they reached the far end of the room, Lord Mere drew Florencia off the dance floor and out through one of the open windows onto the terrace outside.
It was a warm night without a breath of wind and they walked down the white marble steps into the garden.
“How pretty this is!” Florencia said. “But – perhaps I ought not to come here with – you.”
“Why not?” Lord Mere asked.
“It may be a mistake – and Papa will tell me it is something I – should not do.”
“I find in life that it is always best to do what one wants and apologise for it afterwards.”
Instead of a light laugh, such as he would have received from the women he knew in London, he realised that like a child Florencia took what he said seriously.
“That sounds very easy,” she said, “but you are a man and the sins men commit are always forgiven more easily than if one is a woman.”
This was true and Lord Mere responded,
“I promise I will not spoil your reputation or anything else about you that is so beautiful. We will stay in the light of the lanterns so that everybody can see us. But I want to talk to you and it is difficult to do so when we are dancing.”
“What do you want to talk to me about?”
“Yourself!”
She gave a little laugh.
“That is rather dull. I would much rather you told me about England.”
It struck Lord Mere that any
other woman would have said ‘about you’, but he replied,
“What do you want to know?”
There was a little silence.
Then she said,
“I think really that, because I am afraid, I like to think and speak of places that are safe.”
Lord Mere had stopped in the light of a large lantern hanging from a tree covered with blossom and the light revealed the expression in Florencia’s eyes as if it was daylight.
For a moment they just looked at each other.
Then he said,
“We have only just met, but I think you are aware that I want to help you. Tell me why you are afraid.”
She drew in her breath and he knew that what he had said meant something to her.
She clasped her fingers together before she answered,
“I-I cannot speak of it, not to a – stranger!”
“Am I a stranger?”
As he asked the question and knew that she did not know how to answer him, he added,
“The minute you came into the room I knew that I had seen you before. We have not met, but your face has been with me ever since I can remember. Raphael has painted you more than a dozen times three hundred years ago and I suppose I always knew that one day I would find you.”
There was silence and Florencia’s eyes were held by his.
Then in a voice he could hardly hear she whispered,
“H-how can you – say this to me?”
“I can say it because it is true!”
“I should not – be listening.”
“Why not? We have met and I am sure it was decreed that we should do so.”
She put out a hand as if she would touch him and then drew it back.
“Please,” she said. “You are – frightening me, although in a different way from how I was frightened before.”
“I think,” Lord Mere said very slowly, “that I was sent by Fate or the Gods, or perhaps the angels, to Florence to help you. You may choose to send me away because as you say truthfully we are strangers, but I believe that we are something very different.”
“I want to believe you,” Florencia said, “and, although there is no – logical reason for it – I trust you.”
“Thank you, that is what I wanted you to say. Trust me and know that I have been sent like a messenger from the Gods to take away your fear.”
“Nobody can do that,” she answered quickly.
“How can you be so sure? We are dealing not with ordinary human problems but with something far more fundamental.”
He did not know why he said those words, but they seemed to come spontaneously to his lips and he saw her eyes light up as if she understood.
It made her immeasurably more beautiful even than she had been before and, with a faint smile on her lips, she said,
“In all the books I have read, help has always come at the very last moment – when the Princess is – rescued.”
“That is what I am telling you,” Lord Mere said. “I am here to rescue you and all you have to do is show me the dragon.”
She gave a little laugh that had something childlike about it before she said,
“You make it sound so easy! If only it was possible!”
“It is possible and you have to believe me.”
“I do – but I am still afraid. St. George, St. Michael and all the angels would find it – impossible to help me!”
“I may not be an angel, but I am always at your service!” Lord Mere said gallantly.
Her lips parted and there was a sudden radiance on her face that made her again infinitely lovelier than she had been a moment before.
Then, as they looked at each other and it seemed to Lord Mere that words were unnecessary, since he was already fighting an enemy on her behalf who had to be annihilated, a voice harsh and angry interrupted them.
“So here you are!” Vincente Gorizia exclaimed. “Your father was asking what had happened to you and why we have not danced together. Surely you are aware that it is important we should be seen doing so?”
He spoke in Italian in an angry tone, which seemed to vibrate through the air, roughly disposing of the magic that had held Florencia and Lord Mere close in such an inexplicable way and turning even the beauty of the night into something ugly.
Florencia lowered her eyes and said humbly,
“I-I am sorry – Vincente.”
“So you should be!” he replied. “You know everything has been planned for tonight. We will confirm all the rumours that have been circulating about the rapprochement between our two families. It is typical of the Soginos to be so casual about anything so important!”
Lord Mere was aware that Florencia gave a little shudder as if she expected from the way the Prince spoke that the feud between them was starting up all over again.
“Come on!” he added. “Walk back with me and for God’s sake look as if you are enjoying being with a Gorizia, as, of course, I am enjoying being with you!”
There was such a sarcastic note in his voice that Lord Mere longed to hit him.
Instead he stood quietly in the background, finding it incredible that the Prince could ignore him in a manner that was so rude and at the same time so uncouth that he was not quite certain if it was intentional or simply because he knew no better.
As Florencia moved away from him, he said,
“Let me thank you, Princess, for a most delightful dance. It has been a very great pleasure to meet you and I promise I will not forget what we have discussed.”
She gave him a quick glance and he knew that the fear was back once again in her eyes as she turned to walk quickly after the young Italian who was already moving back towards the house.
As she reached his side, he held out his arm and she put her hand inside it.
They walked up the steps and onto the terrace and, while Lord Mere watched them, his lips were pressed into a tight line.
Then he was aware that he was clenching his fists so tightly that he could feel the sharpness of his nails digging into the palms of his hands.
“Blast the young swine!” he muttered beneath his breath.
But he knew that he had taken the first steps in his efforts to unravel the puzzle.
He found it stranger, more complex and certainly more mysterious than even he had anticipated.
Chapter Three
Lord Mere waited for a while. Then he walked back into the ballroom.
A number of couples were dancing round to the music, which he thought was pleasantly melodious.
The older guests were sitting around the room on comfortable chairs and sofas watching them.
With a quick glance, Lord Mere saw that the Prince di Sogino was talking to another elderly man who was standing beside a superb marble statue that seemed in some way to accentuate the Prince’s aristocratic features.
Lord Mere made his way towards him, aware as he did so that the Contessa was watching him.
Without looking in her direction he reached the Prince to stand patiently at his side until he had finished his conversation.
Then the Prince turned to him with a faint smile and Lord Mere said,
“I heard before I left London, Your Highness, what magnificent treasures you have in your Palazzo. Would it be very presumptuous of me to ask if during the short time I am in Florence I could visit you?”
“But of course!” the Prince replied. “It would be an honour and a great pleasure and I can only hope that you will not be disappointed.”
Lord Mere laughed.
“I don’t think that I could ever be disappointed in the treasures of Florence and, of course, your family has been collectors for so many centuries that I know you have a treasure trove that is famous the world over.”
“You flatter me!” the Prince said. “I hope I may welcome both you and Sir Julius with whom you are staying tomorrow at, shall we say, three o’clock?”
“I am sure that Sir Julius will find that convenient,” Lord Mere answered, “and thank yo
u.”
He was introduced to the aristocrat the Prince was talking to and then with a respectful bow he moved away.
Once again he was aware that if he looked at her there would be an invitation in the Contessa's eyes.
Instead he sought Sir Julius, who was sitting down on a comfortable sofa.
As he approached him, the lady to whom he had been talking was invited to dance and Sir Julius was alone.
Lord Mere then bent down to say in a low voice,
“Will you say that you are feeling somewhat indisposed and wish to return home?”
Just for a moment there was a look of surprise in Sir Julius’s face. Then, as he had served for many years in the Diplomatic Service, he briefly replied,
“Of course! Now or a little later?”
“A little later,” Lord Mere replied and walked away across the room towards the Contessa.
She smiled as he reached her side in a way that told him without words exactly what she was hoping and expecting.
He sat down beside her and proceeded to pay her the compliments that had no need to be exaggerated because she was indeed a very beautiful woman.
She was just coming to the point of inviting him, as she had suggested before, to visit the picture gallery and her private rooms when Sir Julius interrupted them.
“Forgive me, my dear Ingram,” he said, “but I am feeling somewhat fatigued. I feel that I should go home, but of course, if you wish to stay, the carriage will return for you.”
Lord Mere jumped to his feet.
“No, of course not,” he said. “You told me before we left that you were not feeling particularly well and I only hope that this delightful evening has not been too much for you.”
“I am afraid I am getting old,” Sir Julius answered, shaking his head somewhat dolefully.
The Contessa gave a cry of protest.
“Of course you are not old!” she exclaimed. “And I cannot lose you both so soon in the evening! Please, have a glass of champagne. I am sure that it will make you feel better.”
“You must not tempt him,” Lord Mere said. “I know what instructions his doctor has given him and we must obey them.”
He slipped his arm through Sir Julius's and said,
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