69
Feverish, Prudenza woke slowly. For a moment, she wondered what had happened. Then she remembered: the feast, the smell of roasting meat, the faces gathered around the table. She was in her bedroom, her body aflame with fever, yet still trapped in the nightmare of Giustina’s love for Lorenzo. She tried to sit up and noticed her daughter sitting in the cushioned chair beside her bed. “How long have I been in bed?”
“Only a short while, enough for all the guests to leave,” Giustina said. “How do you feel?”
“I’m so hot,” Prudenza said weakly, her memory of recent events returning with immediate clarity. The day before the feast had been a long blur of preparing food, setting the tables, discovering Giustina and Lorenzo alone, and then having to remain silent until an opportunity to speak to Giustina alone presented itself. Only now that she had Giustina all to herself, she was too sick, too fatigued to bring it up. Her ear throbbed. The room spun about as if she had drunk too much wine.
The door swung open to reveal Felicia, who carried a tray to the bedside table.
“What are you doing here?” Prudenza could not disguise her irritation.
“I am merely bringing soup,” Felicia said a bit more jovially than usual. “Nothing more.”
Prudenza gave her a hardened look. “I don’t need anything. You can go home now. I have Giustina to help me.”
Giustina sat perfectly still, expressionless.
Felicia set her fists on her hips. “You are far from well.” She picked up the bowl and sat on the edge of the bed. “You must eat a little.” Felicia dipped the spoon and raised some of the warm liquid to Prudenza’s closed lips. “Just a spoonful or two to keep up your strength and then I promise to leave.”
“You’re likely to poison me. Giustina can feed me,” Prudenza said.
“As you wish.” Felicia handed the bowl to Giustina and rose.
Without a word, Giustina took Felicia’s place at Prudenza’s bedside and spooned up some of the liquid, holding it against Prudenza’s lips.
Prudenza opened her mouth to receive the soup and swallowed. It soothed her parched throat. “It’s very good. You must give me the recipe one day.”
“Of course,” Felicia said with all seriousness as she left the room. After closing the door behind her, she let out a restrained whoop of delight!
70
One week later, Prudenza sat at a small trestle in her courtyard, grateful her fever had been rapid in its course. Each day of her illness, Felicia brought food for her family. She had even managed to exchange a few cordial words with her. Prudenza looked across at Casa di Fiore and saw Felicia leave her villa with a basket hooked over her arm. She waited for her to cross the bridge and enter her courtyard. Now what did that woman want?
“Good afternoon, Felicia,” Prudenza said.
Felicia’s brows rose. “You must be feeling better.”
“Thank you, yes, I feel much better.” Prudenza gestured for her to set the basket down. “You brought us another meal?”
Felicia nodded.
“You have been very kind and I thank you, but as you can see, it won’t be necessary for you to go to all that work anymore.”
“I see that,” Felicia responded.
Awkwardness descended between them.
Prudenza invited Felicia to sit, then reached for a fig, took a small bite from it, and leaned back in her chair gathering her thoughts. When she finished chewing, she said, “Felicia, I want to thank you for all that you’ve done me while I was ill.” How she hated being beholden to Felicia, but propriety demanded she acknowledge the thoughtfulness.
Felicia, still in the process of settling into her chair, suddenly stopped.
“Yes, yes, you heard correctly,” Prudenza grumbled. “I am grateful to you.”
“Our children will soon be married. I am willing to try to get along if you are.”
Prudenza forced a smile. “I suppose we should.”
Awkwardness descended between them. Prudenza’s thoughts flitted to the horrible memories of their dismal past. She could never wipe away all the bitterness, but perhaps she could somehow use Felicia in her battle to separate Giustina from that weakling, Lorenzo. If not for her sudden illness, Giustina and Lorenzo might have run away together. Their attraction to each other was obviously so deep, she could not rule out an elopement. She leaned forward in her chair. “Felicia, there is something you must know.” She kept her voice low.
Felicia frowned. “Whatever is it?”
“Were you aware that Lorenzo is in love with Giustina? And that Giustina is in love with Lorenzo?”
Felicia’s eyes became distant. “No, I had no inkling of such a thing, but now that you mention it, they have always seemed very close to each other lately, like brother and sister. Are you sure it’s more than that?”
Prudenza shook her head. “The day before the feast, I found them together in the hazelnut bushes between our homes.”
“That is nothing unusual. As children they always met there.”
“In the dead of night, with a blanket on the ground, a few candle lamps, and a small feast between them?”
Felicia looked out at the orchard, seemingly deep in thought. She did not respond.
“I believe that if I had not fallen ill, Lorenzo and Giustina would have run off together.”
Felicia snapped her head back. “I cannot believe this. It cannot be true.”
“It is true indeed. I overheard them plotting it. I do not think that anything has happened between them yet.” Prudenza put deliberate emphasis on her last word. “But I see love flame in their eyes when they look at each other. I see them always together, laughing, sharing secrets.” She sighed. “Lately, there’s been a sadness in Giustina that cannot be explained.”
“If they are in love, perhaps Giustina should marry Lorenzo as a substitute. It makes sense.”
“No,” Prudenza said sharply. “You know as well as I do that it is impossible for them to marry. The Church considers betrothed couples as good as married. Giustina is betrothed to Luca and must marry him. Besides, Luca is more suited to her.” Prudenza was careful not to mention the reason was Luca’s greater wealth.
“How very sad for Lorenzo and Giustina to have their hearts broken,” Felicia said.
“I could not agree more. In fact, I’ve given much thought to this over the past few days.”
“Why didn’t you tell me about this sooner?”
“Forgive me, but I wasn’t certain how you would take the news, especially coming from me.”
“I see,” Felicia said.
“The only thing to be done is to move the wedding date closer.” Prudenza paused to study the impact of her suggestion.
“But if they are planning to run away together, that may only drive them to do it sooner.”
“Not if I continue to feign illness. Giustina would never leave me if I was ill.”
“But she has already seen you are feeling better.”
“People can have relapses.”
“Do you think it will work?”
“Of course it will. It has to. If I suddenly become more ill, she will become concerned. Think how upset Enrico and Carlo will be if they should run off together.” Prudenza reached out and tapped Felicia’s hand. “We must do all we can to keep them apart, and I’ll need your help. Do I have it?”
Felicia paused, her brow creased with worry. “Perhaps it would be best to leave things as they are and let destiny decide.”
“No!” Prudenza felt her anger rise. “Listen to me! Giustina will marry Luca as per the betrothal documents. Any deviations and I will drag you and your entire family before the archiepiscopal court. They will hear the matter and render judgment. And according to Church law, you will likely lose.” She paused to calm herself. “So let me ask you once more. Will you help me or not?”
Felicia’s expression turned grim. “Prudenza, it is foolish to believe that destiny can be manipulated.”
Prudenza posit
ioned both hands on the trestle and brought her face close to Felicia. “It will go very bad for you and your family if you do anything to prevent this wedding.”
“I never said I would prevent it.”
Prudenza stared hard at Felicia, and then slowly sat back down. “Good, then we have an understanding.”
“If you wish to call it that, then yes, we have an understanding. I will do nothing to prevent the marriage.” And with that, Felicia rose and stalked off.
71
A warm breeze wafted over Felicia as she crossed the bridge to her villa. Even the pleasurable sensation of the wind rustling the wisps of hair that slipped out of her crespine did little to appease her anger. A sudden urge to tend to her garden took hold of her. That was where she always ran for consolation when troubled or angry. It helped sort her thoughts and ease her worries. When it came to anything Prudenza said or did, Felicia had plenty to worry about.
Felicia hurried into the villa, but no one was home. Enrico and Lorenzo were likely outside working. She climbed the stairs to her bedchamber and hastily changed into her work clothes.
Before long, she stepped outside, the golden hues of sunlight warming her shoulders and face, an immediate balm to her raw nerves. After a quick examination of her garden, she set to work furiously pulling weeds, yanking one after another at a furious pace, the aroma of basil and thyme pungent in the air.
Why had she been so foolish as to do a single kindness for that callous woman? She had kept Prudenza, and her family, fed for an entire week, and it had only led to an argument over Giustina and Luca. When she searched her heart, it did not matter which of her sons married Giustina. All she cared about was that her sons were happy. For Prudenza, Carlo, and Enrico, however, who married who mattered greatly. Unfortunately, the Church made it difficult to break a betrothal. To do so would be time consuming. The parties involved must attend tribunal after tribunal to examine the circumstances. Many palms needed greasing, thus making the cost exorbitant. Besides, their stubborn husbands would not hear of breaking their blood oath. As for Prudenza, well, Felicia suspected some ulterior motive for wanting Giustina to marry Luca – likely based on greed.
Prudenza had always wished her harm. Felicia recalled how she had suffered after her sons’ births over a scandal that had no basis in truth. What hurt most had been Enrico’s anger and the distance that had remained between them ever since.
Prudenza had falsely tried to bridge a little of the chasm between them, but Felicia did not believe her for one moment. Because of Prudenza, Felicia had suffered for nearly two decades. Even a full apology on Prudenza’s part would not amend the troubles between them or warm her heart towards that vitriolic shrew.
She glanced around at their villa and the surrounding land. Hills rich with vineyards and orchards rested beneath the midday sun in splendor so majestic, it astounded her. Over in the pasture, Enrico and Lorenzo watched Nanino train a dappled mare that Enrico had purchased as a wedding gift for Giustina. Because of Luca’s passion for horses as well as his participation in races, Giustina would need a good horse to accompany Luca.
Felicia regarded her husband. Even though their passion had dwindled, in the deepest recesses of her heart, she still loved him. She had never stopped trying to clear her name, to convince Enrico that Prudenza had lied. She treated her husband with as much love and consideration as when they were first married. She put special effort in preparing his meals and set out the next day’s work clothes every night before he went to bed. Felicia worked hard to be a good wife, to ensure he was comfortable and well taken care of. As a result, they had found a peaceful camaraderie. They spoke respectfully to each other, neither raising their voices. Yet, Felicia never stopped praying the truth would come out one day. She would not rest until she eradicated the scandal and restored honor to her name.
Her heart filled with pride as she watched Lorenzo, intent on Nanino who guided the mare through a serpentine pattern. Of her two sons, he was the quieter one, most like her in his love for earth and nature. As she watched him, she saw Lorenzo turn his head, and wave to Giustina, who crossed the bridge and made her way to his side.
Felicia wiped the sweat from her forehead and paused. She watched the two as they came together. When Lorenzo took hold of Giustina’s hand, his touch lingered. Felicia noticed he kept the girl engaged in conversation, as if nothing else existed in the world except the two of them. She also noted Giustina’s easy burst of laughter whenever he spoke. Most definitely, love shone like a beacon between them.
Similarly, she had noticed Luca’s aloof attitude whenever Giustina was near. They were kind and respectful to each other, but they exchanged no looks of affection. In fact, when it came to women, Luca had a wandering eye. He had not found love yet.
Felicia believed in love. Duty and obligation made for an empty marriage. Her priority had always been her sons. She would do everything in her power to see they achieved the happiness they both deserved, and no one, not even Prudenza could stop her.
72
Several months had passed since Luca had brought Olivia to Siena. Life was comfortable for them both and a feeling of utter contentedness had set in. The warm morning found him in the stable tending his horses, but judging by the rumble in his stomach, it must be near midday and time to eat. He exited the stable and washed his hands in the trough outside the door.
He heard his name called and glanced up. His father was riding into the courtyard, his big black gelding lathered with sweat from the hot sun. Nanino followed close behind on an elegant chestnut gelding. At the end of the lead rope, tied to his saddle, a dappled mare trotted to a stop behind them.
What were they doing here? They had sent no word of their arrival. He was planning to return to Costalpino in a few days to speak with his father to announce his intention to marry Olivia instead of Giustina. His father had just saved him the trip. Luca glanced quickly up at Olivia’s window. The shutters were closed to keep the heat out. He hoped she was inside so he would not have to explain her presence just yet. Luca strode to the courtyard to greet his father.
Enrico dismounted and stretched, then gave Luca a hearty pat on the back. “It is good to see you, son.”
Luca breathed in the smell of leather, horse-sweat, and stale wine he had come to associate with his father. He took in the hard lines of Enrico’s face with black circles beneath his red-veined eyes. Time had not been kind to him. “Father, I had no idea you were coming to visit. You should have sent word. I could have ridden out to meet you.”
“There was no time and I was eager to see this villa you recently purchased. Besides, your mother wanted me to check on you. It’s been a while since you’ve been home and she wants to know all is well with you.”
Luca doubted that was true. His father rarely did anything to please his mother. “Well, it’s good to see you. I’m glad you decided to come.”
With his one good eye, Enrico surveyed the elegant villa before him. “So this is where you live.”
Luca grinned affectionately. “I am comfortable here.”
“I should say. It completely dwarfs Casa di Fiore.”
“Hey, watch what you say about dwarfs!” Nanino slid off his horse. The instant his feet landed soundly on the ground, he broke wind, an ordeal both long and foul. “In the face of those who wish me ill!” he exclaimed, thrusting his fist into the air to emphasize his point.
Luca burst out laughing at the callous blessing Nanino always uttered after his rude farts. “Some things never change, my friend.”
“And I hope they never will,” Nanino responded. “God may have shoved me inside this small body, but the rest of me can compete with the biggest of men.” He grabbed his crotch.
Enrico cuffed Nanino playfully on the head. “Porca miseria! I’ve had to listen to this for far too many hours. Save me from this cretino.”
At that, they all burst out laughing.
“And what have we here?” Luca drew nearer to the little mare. She
sniffed his hand then rubbed her nose against it. “This is a pretty bit of horseflesh.”
“You like her?” Enrico asked.
Luca ran his hands over the clean lines of her back and down the curve of her well-muscled rump. “She is young, but sound, with near perfect conformation.”
“She’s a wedding gift from our family to your bride.”
Luca straightened and forced back a grimace; he needed to advise his father about his marriage plans sooner rather than later.
“And she was easy to train, a willing, gentle mare worth every bit what your father paid for her.” Nanino’s face smoldered with pride.
“Nanino, why don’t you bring the horses around to the back? There is plenty of room in the stable for them. It will also give you a chance to check on my racing stock. Meanwhile, I will take Father inside. When you’re ready, come into the kitchen, and you can join us for a meal.”
Enrico grinned. “That is good news. I’ve worked up a thirst and an appetite that will take hours to sate.” He turned to Nanino, who had already begun to walk the horses away. “And don’t forget to bring in my saddlebags when you’re done.”
Nanino muttered an indiscernible expletive, shaking his head as he led the horses around the corner and disappeared out of sight.
Luca put his arm around his father’s shoulder. First, he would ply his father with good food and drink; that always put him in a good mood. Then he would tell him about his plans to wed Olivia. After what he had learned from Father Francesco, he needed his father’s support to convince the Church to dissolve the betrothal. Then, all would be set straight and he would be free to begin a new life with the woman he loved.
Together they climbed the front steps and went inside.
Orphan of the Olive Tree - Historical Romance Saga Page 24
