'Does it surprise you, Don Vitale, that Rome has married someone like me? As you've known him for a long time I expect you know more about him than I do.'
'He knew you as a child, did he not—Julia?'
'So he told you that?'
Don Vitale inclined his dark head and a glint came into his eyes. 'It's almost a modern variation of Romeo and Juliet, eh?'
'Their story ended tragically—' Julia gazed down at the half-completed dancers on the silk case she was sewing and took a grip on her composure. 'I've never been to Spain, but I've heard it's a very colourful country—that the women are particularly lovely.'
'Rome must take you there for a trip, I feel sure you'd enjoy the place and the people. The women have warm hearts and great loyalty and, indeed, lots of sal. I daresay Rome says the same of you, eh?'
Julia was lost for a reply, knowing as she did that Rome had lost interest in her as a woman and was only concerned that she give him the child she had said she didn't want.
'You've chosen a lovely day to visit Domani, signore.' She summoned up a smile. 'The summer seems endless in this part of Italy—oh, not that I'm complaining. I enjoy the warmth and the rich smells of everything.'
'This is a very charming region,' he agreed. 'Rome was fortunate to find a house here, but he seems to have a talent for making shrewd deals. What do you think of the one he has just made, eh?'
'I—' The question was unexpected. 'I wouldn't know anything about it. Rome doesn't discuss business with me.'
'No?' A black eyebrow was raised in some surprise. 'Yet I had the impression he had sold the casino and bought himself a fruit farm in Campania in order to be the respectable contadino. Surely he would only do that for your sake—yours and the neonato?'
'Has he really sold the casino?' Julia was gazing at Don Vitale in utter amazement.
'Si. I have a certain interest in the deal and I can assure you he has made a very good profit. Negotiations started some time ago, and today he signs the papers that make him the grower of fruit instead of the gambler. I felt sure you must have influenced his decision.' A smile creased the hard brown cheek. 'I can't as yet imagine Rome as a son of the soil, not after seeing him so often at the casino, looking so suave in his white tuxedo, with such a keen grasp of the gaming business. Now he starts from scratch, and I wish him luck.'
Julia sat mere twisting a silk thread around a finger. Instinct told her that Rome had cut loose from the gaming business for the sake of their child, making for himself a new way of life, a background more solid and secure than the environs of a gambling club. That he had gone ahead without telling her was further proof that he was excluding her from his life. He was giving her what she had asked for… her freedom. All he desired in return was to care for their child of chance… born out of furious words flung like dice across green baize, of emotions linked to their own childhood when she, a granddaughter of the grand house, was not allowed to play with the kitchen helper's son.
'Are you all right, signora?' Don Vitale had entered the arbour and was leaning over her in some concern. 'You have gone very pale and I can see you are trembling—the child is due when?'
'It—isn't that. Your news about the casino has taken me by surprise. I had no idea, you see, that Rome had decided to sell and start anew in something else.'
'Perhaps I should not have mentioned it. Maybe he was saving up the news for you, but I took it for granted—'
There he broke off as from among the trees his name was called.
'Vitale, where are you, querido?'
'I am here, carissima.' He stepped again to the entrance as a slender female figure appeared in the little clearing where the arbour was situated. Don Vitale held out a hand to the woman who came instantly to him, sliding her elegant hand into his. They smiled at each other, and Julia watched them and decided instantly they were deeply in love.
'Querido,' the woman said eagerly, 'if only we might find a house like this! I have been exploring and it has such charm, such tranquillity here above its own beach. Other people can't intrude unless one invites them! Ah, Vitale, could we ever live like this? Dare I hope—?'
He carried the slim hand to his lips and kissed the back of it, the fingertips, and then last of all the palm where his mouth lingered. 'If you have the courage, carissima. If you have the trust in me that your family lacks. That is why I brought you here, to visit my good friend Rome and his young wife. Come, meet her!'
He drew the woman into the arbour and Julia felt an instant admiration and response to someone unusually beautiful. Her hair was blue-black and held away from her detailed Latin face by a pair of tortoiseshell combs. Her skin was smoothly olive, closely moulded over high cheekbones; her full mouth was a deep scarlet and her eyes were the dense mauve of tulips, the kind they called black tulips.
'May I present to you, signora, the Seňorita Ramona Albaňez de los Reyes, who has the gracious kindness to be my fidanzata.'
To say that the introduction took Julia's breath away would be putting it mildly. All she could do for several moments was to gaze at Ramona Albaňez in total astonishment… so this was the woman who had written to Rome! Had she, upon finding him married, then turned to Don Vitale for consolation?
'I—I'm pleased to meet you, seňorita,' she managed to say.
'I have often wondered,' white teeth gleamed against the deep red lips, 'just how she would look, the girl who married the so handsome Rome, and now I see for myself that you are as fair as he is dark. I long to see you together. Will I have that pleasure?'
'I don't really know.' Julia felt bewildered, for the beautiful Spanish woman gave no sign that she had ever been romantically involved with Rome. Her fingers were entwined with Don Vitale's and she had a vulnerable look about her despite the elegance of her silk suit, her poise and obvious culture. She seemed to incline towards him, as if his solid strength was as necessary to her as the air she breathed.
'Rome comes and goes on business,' Julia explained, 'and I can but hope that he's coming home today. I'm sure he'd be disappointed to miss you.'
'My disappointment would be equal,' Ramona smiled, and glanced at her fiancé, moving her arm so that a wide gold bracelet gleamed against her wrist; the traditional engagement symbol for a Spanish woman. 'It was upon Rome's good advice that Vitale and I became betrothed. My —my family was opposing this, but Rome wrote back to say that I must allow no one, not anything, to stand between us. That I must be cruel if there was no other way. That hearts could bleed but also heal, if the roots of love were strong enough. I was brought up very strictly, you understand. Another man had been chosen for me, but I have loved Vitale for three years and I could no longer bear to be apart from him. I expect you understand?'
The densely mauve eyes dwelt fleetingly on Julia's body, obviously burdened by Rome's baby; the outward sign to other people that a mutual loving passion had been responsible for the condition. As always Julia blushed slightly when people looked at her in that way, as if they pictured her in the passionate arms of her husband. Those arms she had imagined around Ramona Albaňez, who now revealed that she had loved for years the Sicilian whose path had crossed Rome's so fatally a long time ago, forging between them a strange kind of friendship.
Julia's gaze dwelt on Don Vitale, a man who was unacceptable to Ramona's family yet who had a physical dynamism that would make it hard for a woman to forget him.
Pressed by her family to forget him, she had written to Rome, his friend, who had replied that love was worth its hurts, and even its cruelties.
'So,' Don Vitale snapped his fingers at the air, 'Ramona's family is a noble one and I am nothing in their eyes, but we are everything to each other and that has to count for something, eh? I asked for marriage, was adamantly refused, and so at Rome's suggestion we come here fuga—we elope, you understand, and will be married here in Campania.'
'Oh, Vitale,' Ramona clutched his arm and gazed at him with anxious eyes, 'if only they could understand my feelings and a
ccept you! I am hurt for you—you are so good to me, kinder than anyone, more loving than a woman dreams of. I couldn't give you up. Rome said the same. He knows your true self, as I do.'
'So now you are beginning to trust that it will work?' he smiled. 'How come?'
Her answering smile was shy. 'I know that I want your baby,' she said simply. 'I want what Julia has—it is the realisation of being a woman and nothing else counts beside it.'
He glanced at Julia, his eyes narrowed. 'Would you agree with that, signora?' he asked. 'Do you think a man has the right to take a woman away from all that she is accustomed to; her family and friends, her way of life? Has it made you happy?'
'How could Julia not be happy?' Ramona exclaimed. 'Married to a man like Rome, living here in this charming villa above the sea, and soon to hold his child in her arms? It is a love story come true, is it not?'
Julia felt as if something stabbed into her side, then slowly twisted. 'Shall we go to the house and have tea?' She gathered her embroidery silks together and bundled them into her raffia workbag. 'I—I'm longing for a cup. Aren't you, seňorita?'
'Please to call me Ramona. I already feel that we are friends and if I persuade Vitale to buy a house in Campania we shall see each other often—we have in common that we both love Italian men, eh?'
Julia summoned a strained smile to her lips but didn't dare to meet the perceptive dark eyes of Don Vitale. 'The people of Campania are terribly nice and I do hope you find a house. According to Rome this one was quite run down at the time he bought it, but as you have seen, he has gradually restored it and modernised some of the interior. I—I must show you the nursery, Ramona. There are toys enough to keep three or four children amused.'
'Perhaps Rome is planning for that,' Ramona smiled. 'Italian men have a charming way with children, have they not? They can play with them, but Spaniards are more dignified and they like to treat their children as young adults. I had only one brother who was older than myself and my own childhood was a very sedate one, and I felt compelled to obey my father's every wish—until I met Vitale. It was in Venice where I was staying with a convent friend and her family.'
She glanced at him, her body gracefully inclining towards him, almost as if he were a ray of warmth that drew her to him. 'I was exploring with my friend when I went astray in one of the old palazzo courts and lost my way. It was getting rather dark and I was becoming very nervous when I ran into Vitale. I thought,' she laughed, 'that he looked such a brigand with that black moustache, but almost at the first meeting of our eyes there was a kind of— how does one explain it? A flash of instinct, of revelation, as if we had met before in some former life. You must know what I mean, Julia. It must have happened with you and Rome.'
'I first knew Rome when I was a child,' Julia replied. 'Come along, I'm gasping for a cup of tea.'
'Allow me, signora.' Don Vitale assisted her to her feet and she knew at once that he felt her trembling. She braved his eyes and smiled slightly.
'I am all right, signore. I get a little fatigued, that's all, and after we've had some tea my maid Lucie will insist that I take a rest. You and Ramona might like to swim in the pool, or go down to the beach. I have a suit that Ramona can wear, and I'm sure a pair of Rome's briefs should fit you.'
'Certainly you must take your rest, Julia, and be assured that Ramona and I will manage to amuse each other for an hour or two. Is that not so, carissima?'
Ramona laughed softly in answer, as if being alone with him was the most exclusive delight of her life. Julia could only hope for Ramona's sake that the strong love she felt for Vitale would guard her against the perils of his profession, and as they made their way into the salotto for tea, Julia felt a sudden sense of relief that Rome had never been drawn into the Don's organisation even though he had mixed socially with some of its colourful characters.
It had left him free to sell the casino and start afresh, but the Don was committed and Ramona had to be aware of that, even if it didn't show in her manner. There was certainly nothing brutto about him, and whenever he looked at Ramona there was a grave kind of tenderness in his eyes. She was his angel even if she did not know that he had sold his soul to the devil.
They had tea and toasted cakes with butter, and then Julia excused herself for a couple of hours. 'I'll just show you the nursery before going to my room,' she said, and left the pair of them in there, standing arm in arm and obviously locked in mutual dreams of a family of their own. Julia felt a stab of envy; it had to be a kind of bliss to be so certain that you loved… and were loved.
Lucie helped her out of her dress and she slid into bed with a little sigh. The blinds were drawn so the silvery room took on an air of peace and quiet.
'All right, my lamb?' Lucie stroked a hand across Julia's brow. 'No aches or pains that you shouldn't have?'
'I'm just a little tired. If Don Vitale and his fiancée want to go swimming, will you see about a pair of suits for them?'
Lucie nodded. 'She's very beautiful, but he gives me the shivers. Cosenza was telling me—'
'I know what she's told you.' Julia frowned slightly. 'It's true, of course, but I think he keeps that side of his life well away from Seňorita Albaňez. He's quite the gentleman, really.'
'I won't be sorry to see Mr Rome back home. Are they staying overnight?'
'I expect so. You'd best tell Cosenza to prepare dinner for four, just in case Rome is on his way home. Lucie, he's sold the casino and bought a fruit farm here in Campania.'
'Well, I never! You must be feeling pleased about that, Miss Julia.'
'He never said a word about it to me. He obviously thought I wouldn't be interested—you do know, Lucie, that we're separating after the baby is born?'
'I know that's what you have in mind, but I don't see how you're going to bring yourself to do it, miss. Your heart isn't hard enough for that, and you'll break it if you walk out on your own baby. Besides, what is there for you to go back to? You're better off with Mr Rome—'
'He doesn't love me. He married me to give the baby his name.'
'You have his name as well, miss. You have your rights, and you can't tell me he's the sort of man hard enough to throw a woman out of her child's life. You can't tell me that, Miss Julia!'
'No, I'm not telling you that,' Julia smiled slightly, for Lucie's vibrant hair always seemed to crackle when she was aroused. 'You don't have to defend his principles to me, but when a man and a woman live together and the atmosphere between them is one of disharmony, then you know it isn't good for a child. Rome has made up his mind that his child is going to have a happier time than he bad himself as a boy, and I don't fit into his future plans. I have my pride, Lucie. I can't stay at Domani if I'm not wanted, and I daren't let the baby get used to me. I—I have to leave before that happens.'
Julia broke off, for her voice was breaking up and she had to fight again for composure; she had to make herself go on with what she had to say.
'Lucie, I want your promise that you'll stay at Domani in my place a-and be as good to my baby as you've always been to me. Will you promise?'
'Oh, miss—'
'Please, Lucie! Rome will agree to it if I ask him to let you be the baby's nurse. He likes and trusts you, a-and when I go away, I shall go knowing that my son or daughter is in good hands—hands that will guide and love and care for my baby.'
'Oh, my lamb, I can't bear you to talk about going away!' Lucie sat down on the bedside and rocked Julia in her arms as if she were a child again. 'I won't let it come to that—I'll speak to Mr Rome—'
'No, Lucie! You'll do no such thing! I forbid you to go begging to him—my God, it would be like something out of East Lynne! He married me because he had to, and I have to honour the debt and set him free when the time comes.'
'Lots of couples marry because they have to, miss.'
'We weren't in love. I told you what happened, Lucie.'
'Are you going to hold it against him all his days, miss?'
'I—I'm
not being vindictive.' Julia looked shocked. 'I just can't live with him the way things are—I have to find the courage to leave, and I think I'll be brave enough if I know you're here and taking care of the baby. If I don't see it or hold it or anything like that—' All at once Julia was crying, and it took some time before Lucie soothed her. Exhausted by her tears, she fell asleep, her fair hair tousled on the pillow, something haunting her face that held Lucie at the bedside for long and silent minutes. Then with a sigh she drew the silk coverlet closer over the young burdened figure and withdrew quietly from the room. She had the look of a woman who was extremely worried.
Moonlight silvered the terrazza and three of the occupants lounged in the cane easy chairs while Don Vitale stood by the parapet, a glass of wine in his hand.
'Alla salute!' He raised the glass to Rome and then to Julia. 'You certainly chose well when you bought this place, compare. On a night such as this you have the moon to yourselves, no?'
Rome slowly smiled and drew on his thin Italian cigar. He had arrived home just in time for dinner, so he and Julia had not exchanged more than a few words of greeting. He was looking fit but a little tired, she thought, but now he seemed more relaxed as she guardedly watched him through her lashes, always prepared of late to glance swiftly away if he should look at her. Before coming down to dine she had carefully bashed away all traces of her tears, and as an extra precaution had applied smoky-green colouring to her eyelids. She wore a full-skirted lace dress almost the same colour, and her hair was swathed to the crown of her head, leaving her neck slender and bare except for a thin gold chain with a little cross attached.
'I adore your house, caro.' Ramona was moving a silk fan slowly back and forth, and woven into the silk were menacing peacock eyes that moved to the movement of her hand. 'If I lived in such a place I would never want to go elsewhere. You have all that is needed on your threshold, the sea washing the beach, your wooded garden to walk in, that quaint village with its little shops, and a nursery that waits for your bambino. Julia was good enough to show us, but I imagine that for the first few weeks you will allow the little one to sleep in its cot in your own bedroom. If I had a baby I couldn't bear to be separated from it, not for a minute.'
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