Prudenza’s glance fell first on Olivia and her breath hitched. For the first time, she now saw the similarities between her two daughters: their height, the shape of their fingers and hands, their noses and mouth. Only their coloring differed. Olivia was dark like her, and Giustina fair like Carlo. The moment she had dreaded her entire life had arrived. Her confidence shrunk.
She noticed how Luca stood protectively behind Olivia, leaning against the stone hearth, arms crossed, his unforgiving eyes resolute upon her. In that moment, she understood him clearly – here stood a true foe.
Felicia held the infant, her face aglow as she cooed to him. Did she know that she held her own grandson?
Then Prudenza looked at Carlo, who sat beside Enrico at the table, his face tense, but curious. As usual, that fool Enrico held a wine goblet in his hand.
Lorenzo and Giustina stood alone on opposite sides of the room from each other.
Prudenza crossed the room and came to a stop in front of Olivia. She raised the blanket before her. “Tell me the truth. Do not conceal anything from me. Where did you get this blanket? Did someone give it to you?” The words flew tense from her lips
“Why do you want to know?” Olivia responded warily.
“It is important,” Prudenza said, her voice wavering a little.
Olivia reached out and bunched the soft brocade in her fist. “The abbess at Sant’Andrea Montecchio gave it to me. She told me that whoever abandoned me in the olive tree in front of the abbey had wrapped me in it. A ring was also left with me.”
“A ring?” Any doubts Prudenza harbored about Olivia’s parentage dissipated. This was her daughter! Yet, she must be more than certain. Her future depended on it. “Do you still have the ring?”
Olivia nodded.
“May I see it?” Prudenza asked.
After a moment’s hesitation, Olivia pulled it out from the purse hanging from her belt. She placed the ring in Prudenza’s waiting palm.
Prudenza stared down at the jewel with its distinctive engraved ‘B.’ There was no mistaking it. She had given this ring to the infant before Cosma took her away.
Carlo rose to his feet and snatched the ring from her hand. He raised it up against the morning’s early light that streamed in from the window and gave Prudenza a puzzled look. “But, this is the ring I gave you as a wedding gift.” He looked at Olivia. “How did you come by it?”
Prudenza broke out in a cold sweat. Her dry mouth made it difficult to swallow. No doubt remained. “I gave this to my daughter when she was born.”
“You gave this to me?” Curious, Giustina stepped closer for a better look at the ring. “I don’t ever recall seeing it.”
“No, not you. Her!” Prudenza pointed to Olivia. “I gave birth to two daughters on the same day. I gave the ring to your sister.” She stepped closer to Olivia. “I wanted her to know that she came from a good family. And then I ordered the midwife to take her away.”
Silent shock gripped everyone in the room.
Olivia gasped as her hand flew to her mouth.
Carlo’s mouth fell open and his brows puckered. “What are you saying? You gave away a child, our child! You had better explain yourself.” His face turned scarlet.
Felicia gasped and sat unmoving, her eyes unwavering.
Enrico stared up at Prudenza from behind his cup.
Lorenzo crossed the room to stand behind Giustina, resting his hand on her shoulder.
Luca pulled away from the mantel, his stance taut; a lion prepared to spring.
What little remained of Prudenza’s inner strength faded. The plan she had spent most of the night plotting was as lost to her like a log upon a torrential river. She reached out for Carlo.
He stepped back, abhorred. “When were you planning on telling me? WHEN! WHY!”
“I did not want to cause you any pain.” Prudenza steadied herself on shaking limbs.
“Pain! You destroyed our family! Tell me all of it!” His tone stirred the tension in the room. No one moved or spoke.
Prudenza rubbed her tense palms together. She hated that she could not keep her hands from shaking. Drawing a fortifying breath, she held her body erect. “It began when Felicia gave birth to her sons. It bothered me that Carlo and I had yet to be so blessed. On the day Felicia gave birth to Luca and Lorenzo, I told a terrible untruth. I do not know why I did it; perhaps to dampen the joy they felt at the birth of their sons. I started the old rumor that because the infants were not identical, they must have been fathered by two different men.” She paused and swallowed, a reflex made all the more difficult because her tongue stuck to the roof of her mouth. Out came a curious, clicking sound just like a hen would make, and then the words, “It was a lie.”
Felicia handed the baby to Olivia, and faced Prudenza, her features sharp, her face crimson. “Troia! Of course, it was a lie! And you waited until now to admit it?” She attempted to launch herself at Prudenza, but Enrico jumped out of his chair and stopped her.
“Wait! Let her finish!” Luca interjected.
Enrico released Felicia and waited.
“At the time I did not realize the consequences,” Prudenza continued, relieved by Enrico’s intervention. “In slandering Felicia, I only harmed myself. The truth is that shortly thereafter, I too came to be with child.” Prudenza inhaled a deep breath and turned to face Carlo. Her future from this moment would be in his hands. In her thoughts, she prayed he would forgive her. “I bore two daughters.”
Carlo’s jaw twitched. Felicia stared at her with eyes wide as chestnuts. Luca moved to stand behind Olivia who now sat in a chair with Giuda in her arms. Giustina and Lorenzo exchanged questioning glances. Enrico stared at the ground, hand upon his forehead, shaking his head.
Prudenza did not wait for anyone to comment. “I had two daughters, one of whom I wrapped in this brocade and hung the ring on a ribbon around her neck. Then I handed her to the midwife and ordered her to take the child away and swear to keep it secret. I never learned what happened to the child.” Burning with shame, she cast a look at Olivia. “The blanket and ring have removed all doubt. You are that daughter.”
Felicia stepped in front of Prudenza, her face a grimace of hatred. She raised her hand and slapped Prudenza hard. The force knocked Prudenza to the ground.
On unsteady legs, Enrico managed to restrain his wife. “Let it go, Felicia. All these years I doubted you. I was wrong. Forgive me!”
With her son in her arms, Olivia rose slowly to her feet, her face pale. Prudenza could not look away from her daughter: beautiful, dignified, and elegant; exactly like her in many ways. She held her breath, unsure of what Olivia would say or do, praying it would not be cruel. All she wanted now was a future with her grandson in it.
“How can you be anyone’s mother?” Olivia said, appalled. “To abandon your child, to choose one daughter above the other. Tell me, what kind of a mother does that? What was it that made you discard me? What did I do to deserve to be banished from the family I was born into?” She let out a desolate groan.
Luca put his arm around her waist to pull her close, and Olivia, with babe in arms, fell into his embrace. He glared at Prudenza, his eyes full of hate.
Prudenza held her breath as Giustina slowly come forward and for a brief second, Prudenza believed she would offer a supporting word. Instead, she approached her sister and tapped her lightly on the shoulder.
Olivia turned to face her. Giustina held open her arms. Olivia and Giuda moved into them. They embraced long, their tears flowing.
The sting of rejection cut through Prudenza. Her plans were collapsing around her. Out of habit, she turned to Carlo, but he stared at her defiantly with arms crossed and mouth tight. Then he, too, turned from her and went to Olivia.
“You are my daughter.” Carlo spoke the words with a tone of disbelief, and then his face softened as he smiled. “I was never as happy as I am now.” He opened his mouth as if to say more, but seemed at a loss for words. Awkwardly, he embraced Olivia, clutc
hing her and the boy to him. When they finally separated, he looked her over, his damp eyes luminous. “I cannot right the wrongs that have been done to you, but I will do all that I can to see you are happy from this day forward. My home is your home.”
It was then Prudenza noticed Luca. His chest was heaving, his face alight with anger and disgust. He stepped toward her, and grabbed her by the arms. “Which daughter was born first?”
Everyone snapped to attention.
Prudenza’s knees threatened to fail her. One by one, she studied the faces of her family.
“Answer his question, Mamma,” Giustina demanded, her expression stone cold.
“For once in your life, Prudenza, tell the truth,” Carlo demanded.
She glanced first at Carlo then at Giustina, and finally at Luca. “Olivia is the firstborn.”
Luca spun round and reached for Olivia’s hand. “That means my marriage to Giustina is in violation of both the betrothal contract and the blood oath.”
It took a moment for everyone to register the meaning of his words.
“It is I who should marry Olivia,” Luca said. “That leaves Lorenzo free to marry Giustina.”
“No,” Prudenza said, but it was too late.
Giustina gave a small cry of delight and ran into Lorenzo’s arms.
Enrico exchanged a look with Carlo and then shook his head. “I was blinded by the blood oath I swore with Carlo all these years. I failed to see what was right before my eyes, denying both my sons the chance for happiness.” With tremulous hands, he reached for Felicia. “To you I can only beg your forgiveness. You, I have wronged more than anyone else, and you did not deserve it.”
Felicia went to stand before him, hesitating before reaching out to touch him. “There is much we both have to say to each other. We will speak later.”
Felicia then embraced Olivia, her eyes wet with tears as she reached for her grandson. “I am happy for you and my son, and welcome you into our family with all my heart.”
“Send someone to fetch Bishop Donnino! Since the marriage between Luca and Giustina is unconsummated, the contract is in violation. It should be an easy matter for him to annul the marriage. If your new bride is will, that is.” Beneath raised brows, Enrico gave Olivia and Luca a questioning look.
Luca took Giustina’s hand and consigned it to Lorenzo. “It would make me very happy to see you two wed.”
When he saw how Giustina’s face glimmered with happiness, Carlo nodded his agreement.
Luca turned to Olivia. “Long ago, our fathers swore a blood oath to each other to join their firstborn children in marriage and unite our families forever. Destiny brought you into my life. I knew I loved you from the first moments we spent together. I would be very honored if you will consent to be my wife.”
“Si, Luca, si!” She ran into his arms.
Prudenza looked from person to person. It was as if she no longer existed. No one would look at her. If someone accidentally glanced her way, their eyes were void of any sympathy. Unable to bear their silent denunciation a moment longer, she summoned her dignity and strode from the room. No one followed her and no one called out for her to come back.
114
After the shock of the morning’s revelations, everyone dispersed. Felicia delayed returning to her bedchamber. Enrico would be waiting for her there and she needed time to arrange her thoughts. This was the moment she had dreamt about all these years, when the truth came out, and Enrico learned how wrongly he had judged her. They had a past to reconcile, a future to determine. Could she and Enrico find peace? Could they recover the closeness they once shared? Bitterness swelled up inside her at all she had suffered because of Prudenza. She walked upstairs, put her hand on the door latch, inhaled a deep breath, and pushed open the door.
Enrico sat on the edge of the bed, elbows on his thighs, staring at his calloused fingers. He looked up at her with a tentative smile. Rays of light danced on his greying pate. The scars on his face appeared even more pronounced than usual. She sensed his uneasiness, but was not sorry for it. He deserved to feel that way.
Felicia walked slowly forward and sat next to him.
He gazed at her with his one good eye and swallowed. “Felicia, there is so much I have to say. I don’t know where to begin.”
All these years, she had waited for him to realize his folly; how badly he had misjudged her. How she had yearned for him to seek her forgiveness! She had played the scene over in her mind a thousand times and more, but now, the anger she had buried resurfaced. “You can begin with the day you chose to believe Prudenza over me. Tell me why you allowed a foolish superstition to ruin our marriage and tear us apart. Tell me you were wrong.”
“I am guilty of all that, and more.”
He reached for her hand, but she pulled it back.
“I don’t blame you for loathing me,” he said.
“I don’t loathe you, Enrico. I have always loved you, but I am embittered at what you have done to me, to our family.”
“I cannot deny that I have failed you.”
She exhaled a pent up breath. “You have failed me in many, many ways, Enrico.”
He knelt before her. “I was wrong to ever doubt you. I should never have listened to Prudenza or allowed suspicion to fester in my mind.” He paused. “I truly regret it. Perdonami.”
She searched his eyes, which reflected his sincerity. Forgive me, he had begged. She heard the authenticity of his regret, and yet she hesitated. Could she grant him the forgiveness he sought? “I always hoped you would believe me. Each time you turned away from me or denied me your affection, I suffered in silence. Now that the time for reconciliation has arrived, I don’t know if it is in my heart to forgive you.”
Enrico’s posture slumped. He stared down at the floor. Slowly, he raised his head to meet her gaze. “Why not?” His voice bore a tremor.
The gall of his question stunned her, and the answer flew easily from her lips. “You have failed me as a husband.”
“I always provided for you and our sons. I never meant to hurt you.”
“You treated me with mistrust and coldness, and found solace in wine instead of my arms. All of that hurt me, and even so, I did not abandon you. I kept our home, helped care for our land, fed you, washed your clothes, and raised our sons. Yes, Enrico, they are our sons – your sons! Both of them! If you had taken the time to look, you would have seen how they resemble you. I nursed you in illness and stood firmly by your side in times of trouble. Thousands of days have passed since that day Prudenza spewed her filthy lies about me. On any one of those days, you could have sought the truth or attempted to restore my reputation. You might even have chosen to believe me.” She paused. “But you did none of that.”
“No, I didn’t,” he acknowledged as he sat back, his posture flaccid in defeat.
Felicia wandered to the window for a deep breath of fresh air. Her composure somewhat restored, she faced him again. “The strength of a family, like the strength of an army, is in its loyalty to each member. In that way, and more, that is how you failed me.”
“Felicia, I…I do not deserve you. Just as you did not deserve my poor treatment.” He came to stand before her. “Love makes a family, and all I want is to prove my love for you and our sons. Give me the chance to atone for my mistakes. For our family’s sake, keep your heart open to me.” Creases furrowed his face.
The echo of hope in his tone crumbled some of her resistance. She had endured a storm, but now the turbulence had passed. If she gave Enrico another chance, an opportunity to restore her faith in him, a rainbow might indeed appear for them one day. “I do not know if we can repair all the damage, but I’m willing to give you another chance.”
A glimmer of the love she used to see daily in his eyes came radiantly alive. Perhaps she might be able to forgive him, but not now, not for a long time. Today she had offered him all she could. It would have to be enough.
115
Despite the warm autumn morning, Pruden
za sat next to the brazier in her bedchamber, fighting off panic. The vision of Carlo’s reaction kept replaying in her mind. He had said little to her, but she saw how his disbelief turned into shock, and shock turned into utter disgust. She needed to explain everything, make him understand why she had done what she did, and bring him back fully to her. He had always provided for her, and she needed him now. Without her husband by her side, the scandal of what she had done would destroy the good life she had worked so hard to build.
The two families were likely still gathered somewhere, talking about what she had done. Their looks of abhorrence remained vivid in her memory. No matter how hard she tried, she could not dispel the sight. They hated her. She knew it without doubt, but only Carlo’s opinion mattered, for he was highly regarded in Costalpino and beyond. The fact that she had never loved him did not matter. His wealth had provided her a certain comfort: fine clothes and jewels, a lovely villa filled with items of opulence and rarity. As his wife, she was a woman of influence.
Prudenza’s thoughts went back to the day when she had given away her daughter. Many mothers gave up their children. She was not unique in that. Her only mistake had been in trusting that decrepit old woman, Cosma, to dispose of the infant to a town or city far enough away so the truth could never be discovered. Instead, that brainless hag had taken the baby to Sant’Andrea Montecchio of all places, the neighboring town. If only she had not left the ring and the blanket with the child. Prudenza stifled her anger. It was foolish to revel in the past. Rather, she needed to focus on the present, and mend this disaster.
She turned at the sound of the door latch lifting. Carlo swung the door open. He loomed in the doorway, unmoving, staring at her through wrathful eyes. Never had he looked so foreboding, almost sinister.
Prudenza stood firm before him, prepared to win the battle certain to develop. “Carlo,” she said entreatingly.
He stepped into the room and slammed the door behind him, his cold stare steadfast.
Orphan of the Olive Tree - Historical Romance Saga Page 35
