by Jan Moran
Ruby looked up at Niccolò. “Do you think we’ll be able to get married here?”
“We’ll find a way,” Niccolò replied, kissing her cheek. “This will be a private ceremony just for us. That way, we will know in our hearts that we are bound together. Then we can tell our parents.”
“How do you think your parents will react?” Ruby liked his mother, but she feared this might not be a welcome surprise. As for her parents…she couldn’t even think of that now. Frowning, she took another sip of coffee.
“My parents adore you. They will be so happy for us. My older brother and sister are already married, and my parents love their spouses.”
Ruby considered this. “I’m not so sure they’ll welcome an American girl who plans to steal their son away to Hollywood.”
Niccolò put her coffee cup down and took her in his arms. “My ambition is to act. They accept this, so I know they’ll support me going to Hollywood. Especially with you, the woman I love.”
Ruby had to trust him. She didn’t have any choice. What they’d done was so beautiful, but she knew it was against all her teachings from her parents and her church.
Niccolò stroked her back. “Are you worried about your parents?”
“My father had another idea for me.” She wanted to be truthful with him. “My sister married a rancher whose land adjoins ours. My father said that when I’m through making movies, I must return to the ranch.” She blew out a sigh. “He wants me to marry the son of another rancher.” She clutched Niccolò in her arms. “I can’t do that. I won’t do that.”
Niccolò gazed at her with a solemn expression. “Then it’s even more important that we get married.” He took her hand and stood up. “We should get ready for mass.”
Ruby went inside with him. She didn’t ask Niccolò about how mass was conducted, because everything in Italy was new to her. She would simply follow along.
After she dressed, Niccolò gave her one of his aunt’s shawls to cover her hair and shoulders. They walked to the church hand in hand. Ruby loved the feeling of being so connected to Niccolò. All around them, everything seemed sunny and bright. They were together, and that was all that mattered. She touched the little silver necklace she wore that Audrey had given her and thought about how it had brought her such luck.
Daisies grew on the steps leading up to the church beside it, a bell tower with a clock soared above them. The tall, wooden doors of Chiesa di San Giorgio were open, and Ruby and Niccolò stepped inside the cool, dark sanctuary. Ruby’s heels tapped on the black marble tiles, and she gazed in awe at the old paintings of saints who lined the walls and columns.
“This church is about a thousand years old,” Niccolò whispered.
Ruby wasn’t sure what to do, but since she didn’t understand most of what the priest said, she simply followed Niccolò’s lead.
After the mass, Niccolò spoke to the young priest.
As Niccolò translated to Ruby, he added, “You are Catholic, yes? Otherwise, I don’t know if he will marry us.”
“My family is Catholic,” Ruby said, nodding. Technically, that was correct. Her mother’s family, the Raines, had originated in England, but her father’s family, the Smiths, were practicing Catholics in Ireland before arriving in the United States. She’d been baptized, and her father kept the traditions, but they lived far from any church. Ruby often went with her mother to a small nondenominational gathering. But Ruby couldn’t wait to get married. Surely it would be okay, she told herself.
“Where do I get these documents?” Niccolò asked.
The young priest gave him some instructions, including the address of another person who could expedite the process and provide witnesses for a small fee. After leaving the church, they went directly to the person the priest had suggested. The man told them the amount of donation they would need to give him, and then he would arrange it all.
“Are you sure this is the way it’s done?” Ruby asked as they walked back to the villa. “What if this man can’t provide the documents we need? We’ve already paid him.” They’d been told to wait for someone to contact them.
“My uncle is well known here,” Niccolò said. “I don’t think this man would risk making him upset.”
Ruby didn’t understand the way things were done here. All she wanted was to get married to Niccolò. After their mistake, they had to marry soon. Even though she didn’t like to think of their beautiful connection as a mistake, or a sin, she’d been taught that it was. Her parents had been strict with Ruby and Patricia. In their eyes, the only way to make herself whole was to marry Niccolò.
However, Ruby certainly didn’t feel like she had sinned. Did that mean she was a heathen? She didn’t feel like that either. Instead, she felt like she’d had a wondrous awakening. She was more in love with Niccolò than ever, and she couldn’t imagine living without him. She was sure they would have married anyway, regardless. The only feeling she had was one of pure happiness.
“What should I wear?” Ruby asked. She was feeling so excited about the ceremony now.
“Let’s look in my aunt’s closet,” Niccolò said. “She’s about your height.”
Once they returned to the villa, Niccolò led her into his aunt’s room. Ruby was thrilled to find a blush-pink dress and an ivory lace shawl. When she put it on, she felt like it was the most beautiful dress she’d ever worn.
Niccolò rapped on her door. “Can I see how it fits?”
“Go away,” Ruby cried out. “It’s bad luck for you to see my dress.” She couldn’t remember if it was the dress or the bride, but she wanted him to be surprised.
The next morning as Ruby was making an American-style breakfast for Niccolò with sunny-side-up eggs and thick buttered toast, a knock sounded on the door.
When Niccolò opened the door, a breathless young boy told them they were wanted at the church soon. “Per il matrimonio,” he said before racing back toward the village.
“It’s time.” Niccolò wrapped his arms around Ruby.
She was so happy and excited that she could hardly eat the food she’d prepared, but Niccolò wolfed it down and proclaimed it the best breakfast he’d ever had.
Ruby changed clothes into the blush-pink dress and draped the lace shawl over her hair. She wished her family were here, but it was better this way, she told herself. When she emerged from the room to meet Niccolò downstairs, he was waiting for her in the front salon.
Niccolò appeared freshly shaven and dressed in one of his uncle’s suits, which was only a little large. He was so handsome that she almost cried with joy.
“And this is for you,” he said, picking up a bouquet of delicate white roses and glossy green ferns. He’d wrapped the flowers in a white handkerchief. Dropping to one knee, he held them out to her. “I don’t have a ring of gold for you today, but I chose the best roses from the garden. Whenever you see white roses, I want you to think of this day.”
Ruby blinked back tears and accepted the flowers. Closing her eyes, she breathed in their heavenly sweet scent. She wanted to remember everything about this day.
Ruby slid her hand over Niccolò’s arm, and they walked to the church. Golden orioles chirped overhead, and the sun was warm on her face. All signs pointed to the happy promise of a sweet future ahead.
When they arrived at Chiesa di San Giorgio, Ruby saw that the man Niccolò had spoken with was there with an elderly couple who would serve as witnesses. The woman was agitated, shaking her head.
“What’s the matter?” Ruby asked.
“Agosto,” Niccolò said. “She thinks it’s bad luck to be married in August.”
“That’s ridiculous,” Ruby said, although the woman was making her nervous.
The man with her pressed an object into Niccolò’s hand, motioning for him to put it in his pocket.
Niccolò looked at it and chuckled. “It’s a broken piece of a tool. But it’s made of iron, so that’s good luck.”
“Hope that offsets the curse of August,�
�� Ruby said.
The priest motioned for them to join him. Ruby could hardly believe this was happening, and she wished she could understand the priest. Yet the Italian language was an exquisite melody to her, and she loved the romance of it. She understood the essence of the priest’s words and the solemnity with which he spoke.
Most of all, she understood that this commitment was for life, forever and ever, until the day they died.
When the priest motioned for a ring, Niccolò blushed and shook his head. Seeing that he was embarrassed, Ruby whispered, “Unfasten my necklace.”
“Why?”
“I’ll show you,” she said, smiling. “And take off yours, too.”
Niccolò did as she asked. With trembling fingers, she divided the heart. Taking the thin, silver chain he wore, she threaded one side of the heart onto it. After clasping the chain around his neck, he did the same for her. Each of them wore one-half of the heart crowned with a small ruby.
“Ti amerò per sempre.” Niccolò kissed her hand. “Always, I’ll always love you, amore mio.” He slid a finger under her chin and kissed her with a tenderness that brought tears to her eyes.
“And I will always love you,” she murmured.
As the priest joined them together in matrimony and blessed their union, Ruby felt transformed by the love Niccolò had for her, and the love she had for him. What they felt for each other was rare and beautiful, and Ruby was sure that they would celebrate their love every day of their lives.
“I can hardly believe we’re married,” Ruby said as they left the church.
“Evviva gli sposi,” called out the older couple who had acted as witnesses in congratulations.
Ruby and Niccolò turned and waved.
After the ceremony, Ruby and Niccolò were famished. Still wearing their wedding finery, they boarded the ferry to Bellagio to go to one of Niccolò’s favorite restaurants. Once they arrived, they strolled to the café arm in arm. When other patrons realized Ruby and Niccolò had just married, people surrounded them, wishing them well and showering them with champagne and food. Strangers became friends, and Ruby fixed every joyful face in her mind.
Although they were celebrating their vows without their family, Ruby cherished their wedding day. She promised herself she would remember every detail forever.
Yet, even as they kissed and toasted to their future, she couldn’t help but wonder how their parents would react to their news. Would they be as happy for her as these strangers were? Would they see the love in their hearts—or only the impediments to their union?
Chapter 16
Lago di Como, 2010
* * *
Ariana tipped her face to the sun, feeling the warmth on her cheeks as Alessandro steered the yacht across the lake. It was such a glorious, sunny day, and when Alessandro had suggested a ride on the lake, she thought, why not?
After all, she had been scheduled to be on vacation. Without the intended husband, but still, she deserved to enjoy herself.
As her aunt had told her this morning, You can stay in your room and cry, or you get on with life and enjoy yourself. Despite Ariana’s complaints, Ruby had then pushed open the curtains in her bedroom to let in the morning rays.
When Alessandro turned up just after lunch, she had been properly nourished by the purple-haired Livia, who was an extraordinary cook and kept insisting that Ariana was too thin.
Here on Lake Como, Ariana was starting to feel better than she had in years.
“Have you heard of Villa d’Este in Cernobbio?” Alessandro eased off the throttle and guided the vintage Riva yacht toward the dock.
“I once saw it featured on a travel channel.” Ariana ran her hand along the restored wood trim, which glimmered in the sun. “What a beautiful boat this is.” There was another row of cushioned seats behind them, as well as an area where people could sun themselves.
“We call these yachts here,” Alessandro said, smiling. “This one is almost sixty years old. Restoring it helped me keep my sanity after Serafina died.” With a practiced hand, Alessandro guided the yacht toward the dock. “So, do you and your aunt holiday together often?”
Ariana had to think about it. “It’s been a couple of years.” Four, actually, since any kind of vacation. “I went with my aunt to London so that she could accept a lifetime award.” She laughed. “She told them she wasn’t through yet and gave out her agent’s number from the podium.”
“And did that work?” Alessandro asked.
Ariana chuckled. “That’s how she got her last movie role. And she won another award for that one.”
“Maybe she’s not ready to retire.”
“Ruby loves to work. But she also likes to enjoy life.” As they neared the shoreline, Ariana could hear laughter rippling from the outdoor restaurants and the nearby swimming pool that stretched out into the lake.
Alessandro tilted his head. “That’s the Italian way. My work is important, but my family is more so.”
Ariana grew quiet, thinking about that. Ruby often asked her to travel with her to different events, but Ariana seldom took time away from work. Phillip had expected her to make time for him after they married, and she’d thought he was unreasonable. While she didn’t regret leaving him at the altar, perhaps the scales had tipped too far in favor of her grueling job.
Not unlike her mother.
Ariana turned to Alessandro. “You left the factory to pick up your children from school the other day.”
“Every day,” he said, smiling. “I love to meet them after school and hear how their day went. It’s a special time for each of us.”
“Do you have an au pair?”
Alessandro shook his head. “I want to spend as much time with them as I can. Seems like yesterday that they were babies.”
Ariana thought of an executive woman she worked with who hired an au pair to pick up her children from school, make dinner, bathe them, and tuck them into bed. If she were lucky, she made it home to read a story to her children before kissing them goodnight. Most nights, she wasn’t. Which left the weekends. Sunday, at least, because she often had to work on Saturday, or go to the gym, or have her hair done.
Thinking of all that was exhausting.
Other women she knew did what her mother Mari had done, which was simply to send their children to boarding schools and summer camps. That way, parents could turn out well-educated children with remarkably little effort. Sort of like delegating a project at work, Ariana imagined.
That wasn’t what she wanted.
Ariana clasped her hands around her knees. She’d worn one of the bright print sundresses that Ruby had bought for her. And it was roomy enough to allow for her pending midsection expansion.
“I enjoy being creative and productive,” she said. “But, I’m beginning to think I want a different sort of life.”
“You’d leave the daily grind?”
“Maybe not right away. A job offers security.” She needed stability for her child.
“Does it?” Alessandro steered the yacht into position alongside the dock. “Aren’t you talented enough to create a path of your own?”
Ariana made a face. “Ouch, that hurt. Are you questioning my talent or my confidence?”
“I meant that as a compliment,” he said, tying the lines to the dock. “You’re smart and talented. Many people would pay you well for what you could create.”
Ariana hadn’t let herself think about that in years. In fashion school in Los Angeles, she’d dreamed of creating a fashion line. Small and exclusive. She wouldn’t want an empire the size that Ralph Lauren or Giorgio Armani had built. Producing seasonal fashion shows and managing armies of employees would make her head hurt. But on a smaller scale, she would love it.
“Maybe I could start a line, or have a shop,” she said, the ideas seeded in her mind.
“I’m sure you could.” Alessandro held out his hand to her to help her from the yacht.
She hesitated for a moment, then slid her hand in
to his. His touch was firm, yet accommodating. Not like the men who yanked you from your seat, or those whose grip was so limp you couldn’t depend on them.
Not that she was looking for anyone to depend on. Her mother had hammered the concept of self-reliance into her. As she’d had to, Ariana conceded. Her father hadn’t contacted her since she’d been a little girl.
Once, being curious, Ariana had found photos he’d posted online with his new young family. That had been painful, and she’d quickly closed the images. Someday, maybe she would meet her half-siblings. If they even knew she existed.
Alessandro stepped from the yacht and helped her out.
She held onto his hand, enjoying his touch. Alessandro’s dark hair ruffled in the breeze, and the sun kissed his nose and cheeks with color. With his lean, muscular build, he looked healthy, as if he spent a lot of time outdoors. She liked that. Not that it mattered, of course.
“And here is the magnificent Villa d’Este,” Alessandro said. He released her hand and motioned toward an expansive, lakeside villa of gleaming white with beige accents. People were lounging on rows of balconies covered with apricot awnings. To one side, a long pool stretched out from the shoreline as if suspended in the lake.
Ariana gazed at the hotel and its manicured grounds in awe. “The hotel is one of our clients,” he said. “Sometimes I come here for a respite.”
Ariana fell in step beside him as they strolled the grounds.
“Villa d’Este is one of the most beautiful, historic villas on the lake,” Alessandro said. “It’s known for its beautiful gardens and interior, as well as impeccable service. You couldn’t come here and not visit Villa d’Este.”
“It’s gorgeous,” Ariana said. Numerous trees shaded walkways, fountains bubbled, and flowers bloomed in profusion.
“Do you like history?” Alessandro asked.
“I do,” she said.
“Villa d’Este dates to 1568,” Alessandro said. “Pellegrino Pellegrini, a famous architect of the day, designed it as a summer home for the Cardinal of Como. It was originally named Villa Garrovo, after a stream that flows into the lake. Then, Caroline of Brunswick, the Princess of Wales, bought it in the early 1800s. Finally, it was converted into a hotel in 1873. It’s only open part of the year and closes in the winter.”