A Wedding in Italy: A feel good summer holiday romance (From Italy with Love Book 2)

by Tilly Tennant

  Alessandro turned to Marco and clapped him on the back. ‘Grazie mille.’

  ‘Di niente,’ Marco replied, with a knowing nod to Kate. ‘I enjoyed meeting your beautiful Kate.’

  It was perhaps best not to mention the bits where she’d almost mistaken him for a kidnapper and he’d proceeded to interrogate her throughout the journey, so Kate offered him a smile in return. ‘It was lovely getting to know you too.’

  ‘You would like to come and meet my cousins?’ Alessandro asked, offering Kate his arm. ‘They are not all here yet, but some. Come. . .’

  Kate followed him across the square, taking care not to turn an ankle with her heels on the uneven cobbles. ‘What happened to your mother this morning? Marco said she was ill.’

  He waved his hand around the piazza. ‘This. . . she is exhausted.’

  ‘But she’s OK?’

  ‘Abelie made chamomile tea for her. She is at home with Lucetta, preparing for the wedding.’

  ‘Oh. So she’s not ill.’

  He sighed. ‘She never rests and she worries too much about everything. This morning, her head. . .’ He paused, waved his hands around his own head as if trying to explain.

  ‘Light-headed?’ Kate suggested. ‘As if she might faint?’

  ‘Yes. And her heart. . .’ He thumped a staccato rhythm out on his chest with the palm of his hand.

  ‘Does that happen a lot?’

  ‘Not so much before. Many times this year.’

  ‘You never said.’

  ‘She does not want me to tell anyone.’

  ‘What does the doctor say?’

  ‘She will not see the doctor.’

  ‘Why not?’

  ‘He will tell her to rest, and she does not know how. She does not want to hear it.’

  ‘But she’ll make herself worse if she ignores it.’

  ‘Perhaps when Lucetta has gone to live with Gian life will be easier and she will feel well again.’

  Kate doubted that. Signora Conti would still have Alessandro and Abelie to worry about, and from what Marco had said that morning, she could worry herself into an early grave about her family whether they lived with her or not. And even with Maria, Isabella and Jolanda all married and left home, Signora Conti still ran herself ragged preparing lavish meals for one or more of them almost every day. It wasn’t exactly winding down as far as Kate could see and she didn’t think for a second that Lucetta moving out would make a scrap of difference. It was a worrying development, not only for Alessandro’s mother, but for Alessandro too. They were close, and if his mother became ill, it would doubtless have a huge impact on him.

  ‘So she needs to avoid stress,’ Kate said. ‘At all costs.’

  ‘It would be a good idea, but not so easy, I think.’

  Kate didn’t think it would be easy either, and it wasn’t a comforting thought.

  Overwhelming was just one word for it. In a whirlwind of names and random facts, Kate had been introduced to the members of Alessandro’s family who were already at the church. As she then helped them by running little errands or indulging in last-minute tinkering with the decorations (mostly because she felt so useless standing around while everyone else did it, not necessarily because any of it was needed), more arrived. Uncles, aunts, cousins, second cousins, cousins-twice-removed, in-laws, family friends and what seemed like pretty much anyone else Lucetta had once passed on the street. At the weddings Kate had attended before, the day ceremony was busy if fifty close family and friends graced it, leaving all the other guests – perhaps one to two hundred at most – to let their hair down at the reception later on. If the same ratio applied here, then half of Rome would be at the reception.

  The courtyard of the church rang with laughter and the greetings of family who had not seen each other for years. Kate had expected it to be a very chic affair, but outfits ranged from stunning haute couture to some of the more senior guests, who looked as if they had spent the morning cleaning their oven and forgot to change before they came out. But Alessandro extended the same courtesy to them all, and they all showed nothing but civility to Kate as he introduced her.

  At nine thirty, Gian climbed from his scooter, looking dapper in a perfectly fitted slate-grey suit subtly edged in black, but more nervous than Kate had ever seen him.

  ‘He looks as if he wants to throw up,’ she whispered to Alessandro as members of Gian’s family came forward to greet him.

  ‘Throw up?’ Alessandro frowned. ‘Throw what?’

  ‘He looks as if he might be sick,’ Kate explained.

  Alessandro’s frown became a grin. ‘He is marrying Lucetta. He is perhaps sick about all the money he will have to earn to make her happy.’

  ‘Harsh,’ Kate said, but she smiled anyway. ‘She’s not that bad.’

  ‘She likes beautiful things.’

  ‘Beautiful things don’t always have to cost a lot of money. Look at this sunshine today; it’s cost us nothing and it’s the most gorgeous morning Lucetta could hope for.’

  Alessandro looked down at her. For a moment, Kate thought he would reply, but then he simply leaned to plant a warm kiss on her lips.

  ‘I must get ready for Lucetta,’ he said. ‘She will be here soon.’

  Kate nodded, watching with regret as he strode through the crowds, still being greeted sporadically by new arrivals, towards the arches of the church entrance, where Gian now stood with his own entourage. She understood that Alessandro was the natural choice to give Lucetta away in the absence of the father who had been dead for so many years, and in that capacity he had duties to perform. She also understood perfectly that he felt honoured to have been asked, and that the request reflected his close bond with his sister, but it didn’t mean that Kate wouldn’t feel a little lost and lonely without him at her side for the service. Which, being the unabridged Roman Catholic version, promised to be much longer than any she had sat through before.

  Her thoughts were interrupted by a huge cheer from the crowd, who burst into spontaneous applause as a blood-red Maserati arrived in the piazza. Kate smiled. Trust Lucetta to go for the sporty option, and as she emerged, swathes of white fabric unfurling from the car with her, Kate wondered just how stressed Signora Conti was feeling at her daughter’s impractical choice of transport. Even though she had seen Lucetta wearing her dress before – and she had even worked on it, making alterations to the sleeves – Kate’s breath still caught in her throat at how beautiful Alessandro’s sister looked. It was one thing to see the dress when Lucetta had tried it on after a day at work, but another to see her hair pinned up, matching jewellery, veil flowing behind her and a glow of happiness that could rival the sun shining down on them. It seemed others thought so too, and there were gasps and exclamations in the crowd. Kate glanced to where Gian had not even bothered to make himself scarce by going inside the church to wait for her, but simply stared, agog, as if he was seeing her for the first time. The best man gently nudged him, and together they went in as Alessandro approached Lucetta and kissed her on the cheek. As there was pretty much only room for Lucetta and her driver in the Maserati, another car arrived a moment later, a rather more dignified-looking vintage Rolls-Royce, from which Signora Conti herself climbed, along with Abelie, wearing a stunning bridesmaid dress in Marsala chiffon, and three of her nieces in complementary dresses that were pure white tulle with matching coloured detailing.

  ‘This will be a beautiful day, no?’

  Kate spun round to see Marco standing beside her.

  ‘I’m sure it will be,’ she said, glad of a friendly face, even if it was relatively new to her. ‘Lucetta looks incredible.’

  ‘Gian is lucky.’

  ‘I think he knows it too,’ Kate said, laughing. But out of the corner of her eye, she spotted a figure – Orazia, talking to Maria and her husband – and she suddenly felt the blood drain from her face.

  Of course Orazia was going to be here, but she wished somebody had thought to warn her. Suddenly the day didn’t s
eem quite so bright, or the occasion quite so exciting. It would be all sly looks and whispers behind hands, and conversations that Kate couldn’t quite grasp, and far from relaxing and starting to enjoy getting to know Alessandro’s family, as she had hoped to, she would feel on edge: watched, judged and unable to defend herself.

  The faint strains of violin music reached them from inside, and across the piazza Alessandro and Lucetta made their way to the entrance where they stood and waited. Marco turned to Kate.

  ‘Come, we begin. . .’

  Kate smiled as he offered his arm. She hesitated for a moment before she accepted, looking around for someone else to be making their way over to take him from her. But everyone started to make their own way in. Didn’t Marco have anyone with him? He was with their huge family, obviously, surrounded by hundreds of them, but what about a wife or children? Her thoughts had been elsewhere that day and now she regretted that she hadn’t asked.

  ‘Come,’ he insisted.

  With an uncertain nod, she let him lead the way. They passed Alessandro and Lucetta, waiting for the last of the guests to seat themselves before they made their entrance, and he gave Kate a warm smile, while Lucetta did an excited little wave that made Kate want to burst out laughing. She may have looked like a demure and regal bride, but it was still the same feisty, outspoken Lucetta beneath all the finery. How strange that they should have become so close after their inauspicious start, when Kate had been quite convinced that Lucetta hated her. Looking at her now, Kate was glad that she didn’t, because Lucetta’s friendship and support had been more valuable over the past few months than Kate could possibly express.

  Kate considered herself to be an emotional sort of person, but she had never cried at a wedding before, not even her own sister Anna’s. But the magnificence of her surroundings – opulent golds, mosaic and marble, the altar standing beneath a cavernous and elegant dome, classical religious music echoing through the space from sublime strings – and the beauty and sentiment of the ceremony, along with Lucetta and Gian’s obvious love for each other and the pride she felt in watching Alessandro bravely and reverently perform the duty that their father would have done had he still been alive, finally overwhelmed her. When the tears came, they were unexpected and unprepared for. Marco had sat next to her, and she gratefully accepted the handkerchief he offered and was glad of his company to save her from sitting alone while the main bridal party of Lucetta and Gian’s closest family occupied the front rows. Lucetta and Gian had opted for a mix of newness and tradition at their wedding that spoke volumes about their personalities and their heritage, so while the unconventional transport to the church showed they were firmly rooted in the millennium, old traditions such as the smashing of a glass and releasing doves after the service were observed and cherished. And as the couple emerged from the church and into the sun-drenched square, rice raining down on them as the guests cheered and clapped, Alessandro joined Kate and folded her into his arms.

  ‘You are happy?’ he asked as he smiled down on her.

  ‘Your uncle looked after me so I didn’t have to sit alone,’ she said. ‘I got a bit emotional for a second in there – I suppose my make-up is ruined now?’

  ‘No. You are beautiful.’ He kissed her, and even as he did, Kate could feel Orazia’s eyes boring into her back without having to look round to see if she was there, like a second sight. They broke apart and she turned to see she’d been right. Orazia averted her gaze and pretended to be in earnest conversation with Maria and her husband, but Kate wasn’t fooled for a minute.

  Pushing it from her mind, she turned back to Alessandro. Orazia could stare all she wanted, but he looked handsome in his suit, and his gaze was so warm and genuine that Kate just wanted to savour this moment, to store it forever, and no amount of petty jealousy was going to take it away from her.

  There had been a wedding breakfast of sorts, what Alessandro called cocktail hour, and though it sounded a little like a drinks promotion in a tacky Ibizan bar, it was exactly that – a stop-off for only a select few guests at a local restaurant to take cocktails while everyone else entertained themselves until it was time to make their way to the villa for the evening reception. Kate was thrilled to have been included in the cocktail-party guests, and even more thrilled (despite fighting the feeling of smugness) that Orazia had not. More relaxed and intimate, and with a chance to chat at length to people she knew already, this had been her favourite part of the day so far. After congratulating Lucetta and Gian, and going to tell Abelie how gorgeous she looked, Kate made a beeline for Signora Conti.

  Alessandro’s mother sat at a table a little away from the main throng, and though she had a tall glass of something iced in front of her, she didn’t seem to be drinking very much of it. Kate sat alongside her.

  ‘Come sta?’ she asked gently. It was about as far as her Italian would take her, so she touched at her own temples to mime a headache, and Signora Conti seemed to understand, because she patted Kate’s hand and smiled.

  ‘Bene, grazie.’

  Kate gave her a quick appraisal. She didn’t look fine, even if she said she was. She looked pale, and in desperate need of a rest. Now that Kate thought about it, Signora Conti had looked strained for some days now, and she was amazed that the fact hadn’t registered before. ‘Tonight. . .’ She paused as she fumbled for the word in Italian. It was at times like these that her slow progress in the language frustrated her beyond measure. ‘Stanotte. . .’ she continued, ‘you will sleep well,’ she said, laying her head on her hands and then indicating Signora Conti to explain her meaning.

  ‘Sì.’ Signora Conti smiled, and Kate returned it. Signora Conti’s monosyllabic replies weren’t out of any annoyance with Kate, but simply because the language barrier meant it was pointless trying to elaborate. Kate understood it, and she was relieved to see no animosity in Signora Conti’s face. So did that mean Maria hadn’t repeated the conversation about marriage and Kate’s lack of interest to her mother, despite telling so many others? If not, it inspired just a little respect for Maria after all. If Signora Conti was stressed, ill or tired, or whatever seemed to be ailing her, hearing what amounted to malicious gossip from Maria would hardly help her feel better and Maria, it seemed, had the good sense to realise that. And at least it meant that Kate herself wasn’t the cause of Signora Conti’s current malady, which Kate had fretted about in the back of her mind for most of the morning.

  But then, as if on cue, a shadow fell across them and Kate looked up to see Maria standing at the table, her youngest child clinging to her skirts. Signora Conti broke into a delighted grin at the sight of her grandson and beckoned him over to sit with her. As she chatted and laughed with the little boy, it meant that Maria and Kate were forced into conversation as Maria sat to join them. She wore a smile, but not one that was in any way warm, and the one Kate sent in return was cautious. She needed to tread carefully, and she needed to find a way to win Maria over, but it seemed that as long as Orazia was prowling in the wings, exerting her influence, that wasn’t going to happen. And until she won Maria over, it would be that much harder to win Signora Conti over too.

  ‘The little girls looked lovely in their dresses, didn’t they?’ Kate said. Maria nodded slowly.

  ‘Children always look lovely.’

  ‘Of course they do. . . I just meant yours in particular looked lovely. Have you enjoyed the day so far?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘And you’re looking forward to the reception this evening?’

  ‘But of course.’

  There was a pause. The conversation hadn’t exactly been sparkling, but what small talk she had to offer Maria had dried up. Not that Maria was going out of her way to help, keeping her answers terse and giving Kate nothing to nurture into a conversation that might lead to them discovering some common ground.

  Their attention was thankfully diverted by the arrival of Donato, Maria’s husband. There was no doubting that he was a handsome man; though greying a littl
e at the temples, he was muscular, and the laughter lines around his eyes only served to give the air of someone who knew how to live well. He gave Kate a good-natured nod, a swift glance up and down that seemed to appraise her and score her out of ten. For some reason – though there had never been any malice or suggestion, or concerning word or deed of any kind on his part in their few interactions – Kate always had the feeling that he was scoring her, and she didn’t think his scoreboard was based on her ability to play Scrabble. Donato was perfectly polite, his expression mostly neutral and his enquiries after her well-being benign, but there was something she couldn’t put her finger on, something that didn’t sit right with her whenever they met. She supposed it must be something to do with the things she imagined Maria would be telling him about her in private that made her feel uncomfortable, but even Alessandro seemed to be on edge whenever Maria’s husband was around. He’d never say so to Kate, though, and she couldn’t even be sure it wasn’t just her own paranoia colouring her view.

  ‘You are enjoying the wedding?’ he asked.

  Kate offered a guarded smile. ‘Very much.’

  ‘It is very different from weddings in England?’

  ‘Certainly different from a lot of the ones I’ve been to. You can rely on the weather here for a start – there’s a good chance you’ll get rained on in England.’

  He grinned, showing impossibly white teeth, and though his smile was handsome, his canines were almost pointy enough to convince someone of a more nervous disposition that he was a closet vampire. ‘It rained on the day I married Maria.’

  ‘Oh,’ Kate said.

  ‘So we are not always lucky,’ Maria chipped in, and if Kate hadn’t known better she’d have said that, for once, her constant attitude of a wasp in September was aimed at someone other than Kate as she gave her husband a significant look. But Donato merely reached to pull her close and kissed the top of her head.