He knew that there was a smile of gratification on Hick’s lips, but he merely said,
“I’ve enjoyed our adventure in Florence, my Lord! Makes a change from the humdrum monotony of everyday life at home, so to speak.”
“I think, however, this will be our last adventure,” Lord Mere replied, thinking of Florencia.
“I doubts it!” Hicks said. “If it ain’t one thing, it’ll be another!”
Lord Mere did not reply. He merely looked amused. He wondered what Hicks would feel when he learnt that he was to marry.
There might even be a feeling of jealousy, for Hicks was very possessive.
Although he supposed that it was really a vast impertinence, Lord Mere was aware that Hicks always seemed somewhat contemptuous of the women in his life.
It was as if he knew that they had no right there and anyway would not last very long.
Now, as he climbed into bed, he thought over the position.
When Florencia was his, there would, in the words of the old song, be ‘no need to go a-roaming’.
He could think of nothing more wonderful than for them to be together in the peace and quiet of the countryside around his house.
‘She is everything I have always wanted,’ he told himself.
Her lovely face was vivid in his mind’s eye and he asked how it was possible in so short a space of time that she should fill his whole existence to the exclusion of everything else.
Although he thought of himself as an adventurer, he had always been sure that he was completely master of his own soul.
While women had amused him and he could not imagine his life without them, they were always dispensable and none of his love affairs ever lasted very long.
But he knew now that this was because something had always been missing.
Although he shied away from admitting it, he knew now that their attraction had been merely physical and there had been nothing spiritual in his feelings towards any woman until he had met Florencia.
When he thought it over, he came to the conclusion that the feelings that had been aroused in him by the pictures that he loved and the beauty he sought in everything in fact sprang from the spiritual side of his nature.
But he had never been able to share this with anybody else.
Now he knew that this too was so much a part of Florencia that they were joined by an invisible bond that would hold them linked to one another for all Eternity.
“I love her!” he called out aloud.
He knew then that the words, for the first time in his life, had the real meaning that involved both the physical and spiritual side of his heart and especially the spiritual.
It was Raphael who had made him aware of what he sought in the woman he would marry, although he had not previously expressed it in so many words even to himself.
Now he knew that only his desire for perfection had prevented him from accepting second best because he had been quite certain that he would never find his ideal.
But now he had found her and in strange and extraordinary circumstances’ which had even involved the death of a man who deserved to die.
He felt no guilt about killing Vincente, for even though he had not intended to kill him, he had in fact rid the world of a man who had hurt and ruined perhaps hundreds of people in one way or another.
His death had also saved a great number of young and innocent victims from his bestiality.
‘He must be forgotten,’ Lord Mere decided.
He hoped that once she was away from Florence, Florencia would forget the horror of what she had lived through and so would her father.
Just as the falsely incriminating evidence was now turned to ashes, so in the years to come the wickedness and licentiousness of Vincente would vanish into the darkness of the past as other villains had vanished before him.
Everything he was and everything he had done was as much part of Florence as was its beauty and its culture.
And yet when one thought of the glorious City, all one remembered was the good and not the bad.
Lord Mere knew that his task now was to make the woman he loved forget.
Just as he had planned his crusade to save her from the devil, so now he planned how he would lift her into a world where there was only the light of angels.
And of course Love.
Chapter Seven
Florencia stood at the window looking out at the English countryside.
She had no idea that the grass in England could be so green or that the lake that lay just beyond the terrace would be so beautiful with black and white swans moving serenely on its silver surface.
In the Park under the huge ancient oak trees there were spotted deer and, as she watched, a flight of white doves flew from the trees towards the house.
She felt as if she had been in a dream ever since Lord Mere had arrived at the Palazzo late that night to tell her that her father was free and so was she.
Every moment since then she had found herself thanking God for sending him into her life and thinking too that no man could be more wonderful.
When he left her pulsating from his kisses, she had felt a flood of excitement sweep over her and had run as quickly as she could to wake her brother.
He was sleeping in the room where Lord Mere had come to her by climbing up the wall.
She burst in through the door and, groping her way in the darkness towards the bed, she cried out,
“Wake up, Antonio! Wake up! We are leaving for England!”
Now she felt Antonio stir and wonder what was happening.
“Listen, Antonio,” she said, “you must hurry and I have something important to tell you!”
Her brother was now sitting up and lighting a candle beside his bed.
As it flickered into light, he turned to look at his sister in astonishment.
“What are you talking about? Did you say we are to leave for England?”
“Lord Mere has saved Papa and me and Vincente is dead!”
For a moment it seemed as if Prince Antonio’s breath was taken away by what he had heard.
Then he exclaimed,
“Is that possible? Are you sure of what you are saying?”
“Quite, quite sure!” Florencia replied. “Lord Mere has brought Papa the incriminating evidence and the negatives from which the prints were taken. They are burnt and nobody can ever blackmail him again!”
“I can hardly believe it!”
“It is true! It is true!” Florencia replied, “And because Vincente is dead we must leave Florence before it is announced. So hurry, Antonio! Papa is alerting the servants and telling them we have to leave at once for Paris because somebody close to us is extremely ill!”
“I feel bewildered by what you are saying,” Antonio complained, pushing his dark hair back from his forehead.
“I know it all sounds like a fairy story,” Florencia agreed, “but we can talk about it later. Just get dressed and tell your valet to pack everything you require.”
She walked towards the door and as she reached it she warned him,
“Remember to tell the servants that we are going to Paris. But actually Lord Mere is taking us to England to stay at his house in Oxfordshire.”
She did not wait for her brother to reply, but ran to her father’s room.
She found him there already half-dressed, while his valet, summoned by the bell, was packing his trunk in an adjoining room.
Before Florencia could speak, her father’s Major Domo, who ran the household for him, came hurrying along the passage obviously perturbed by the commotion.
It was to him that the Prince gave instructions that a groom was to ride immediately to Giovanni’s private house and bring him back a parcel.
The Prince sat down at his secrétaire in the comer of his bedroom as he spoke and hastily wrote a note to Giovanni, which Florencia knew contained instructions to make a sketch of the necklace as Lord Mere had suggested and to give the groom the original.
Sh
e knew that Giovanni would have the necklace in a private safe in his own house since, because of its great value, it would be dangerous to leave it in his shop on the Ponte Vecchio at night.
Only Lord Mere, she thought, could set so many wheels in motion and be certain that they would work as efficiently as he apparently planned his own life.
She was even more certain that this was so when they reached Paris only a few hours after Lord Mere himself had arrived there to find him waiting to transfer them to the Gare du Nord, where his private carriage had been attached to the boat train for Calais.
Because they had all been tired after a sleepless night, not only Florencia but her father and brother had slept intermittently in the train from Florence.
But by the time she arrived in Paris and saw Lord Mere, Florencia felt she was so happy and loved him so much that she could fly in the sky or dance on the silver waters of the Seine.
He saw, as he helped her from the train, that her face was radiant.
When their hands touched, their vibrations joined one with the other’s and he had the feeling that even marriage could not make them any closer than they were already.
The sun was shining in Paris and the tall houses with their grey shutters and the chestnut trees in blossom were very attractive.
As Florencia looked around her eagerly, Lord Mere whispered,
“I will bring you back here one day soon and you will find that Paris is a City made for love and laughter.”
She felt herself quiver at the way he spoke and, when her eyes looked into his, she thought that it would not matter where they were, so long as they were together.
They would find love and laughter and many other wonderful things as well.
Because Lord Mere did not want Florencia to be too tired they did not cross the Channel that night but stayed in a comfortable Château on the outskirts of Calais.
It belonged to an elderly couple who had been friends of his father and they immediately found they had a great deal in common with the Prince.
Antonio tactfully made himself scarce and Lord Mere was able to take Florencia into the conservatory ostensibly to look at the flowers.
The moment they were alone together he said,
“My darling, I have not had an opportunity until now to tell you how beautiful you are and how happy I am that all your troubles are over.”
“I have been wondering how I can ever find – words in which to – thank you,” Florencia replied in a low voice.
“I do not want you to do that,” Lord Mere said. “All I want is never again to see the look of fear in your eyes which was there when we first met.”
“Now I am no longer afraid,” she answered, “but I know, if ever I am, I shall only have to tell you about it.”
It was not only what she said but the radiance in her eyes as she raised her face to his that made him pull her against him and look down at her for a long moment before he said,
“You are perfect, my Madonna, who I have been searching for all my life! I never believed that I would find you, except in a picture on a wall.”
“I am – real,” Florencia said softly.
“I will make sure of that!” Lord Mere answered.
His lips found hers and he kissed her until he could feel her heart beating frantically against his and knew that never in his life had he known anything so rapturous as the sensations she aroused in him.
Yet because he knew that the Prince would not approve of their staying too long in the conservatory, they returned to their hosts and retired to bed early.
*
The next day they crossed the English Channel and found Lord Mere’s private train waiting for them at Dover, which was to carry them to Mere Park.
Florencia had never been in a private train before and she felt that it was as exciting as having a doll’s house of her own.
She explored it with an excitement that made Lord Mere smile at her tenderly.
“I adore you when you behave like a child!” he said so that only she could hear. “Until now you have always been a very serious, troubled young woman. But now you are very different.”
“Very very different – thanks to you!” Florencia whispered.
“But even then I found you entrancing,” Lord Mere smiled.
At the same time he knew, as he had said, that he adored her now that she looked young and carefree, no longer overshadowed by tragedy and danger as she had been when they first met.
Every moment they were together he thought that he loved her more.
He looked forward with an almost boyish enthusiasm to showing her his home and the places in the garden and on the estate that had meant so much to him all his life.
It was, however, quite late when they arrived at Mere Park and after dinner Lord Mere had suggested that the Prince should retire and also Florencia.
When they had gone upstairs, Antonio had lingered behind and Lord Mere realised that he wished to speak to him.
“What is it, Antonio?” he asked.
After a moment’s hesitation the young man said,
“I wanted to ask you, my Lord, do you think that your sister will ever forgive me?”
“I have been thinking about that myself,” Lord Mere admitted. “If it does not embarrass you too much the only member of my family I would like to have at my Wedding, which we have all agreed must be very secret, is my sister Jennifer.”
“Perhaps she will understand why I – behaved as I did when she hears the – whole story,” Antonio said hesitantly.
“I am sure she will,” Lord Mere said to comfort him. “Tomorrow I intend to talk to your father about my marriage to Florencia and make arrangements for it to take place as soon as possible.”
He did not say any more at the time, but he had the perceptive feeling that, although the Prince was overwhelmingly grateful for what he had done for them, he might still have reservations about his daughter marrying a man who was not a Roman Catholic.
Therefore the following morning he was not particularly surprised when the Prince asked to speak to him alone and, when breakfast was finished, Lord Mere took him into his study.
“As I am sure you will understand,” the Prince began, “all I want is my daughter’s happiness. We are most deeply in your debt, but you must be aware that we are a Catholic family. For any marriage that takes place, especially in families as old as ours, it is considered obligatory by the Church that we insist on the children that may result from the union being brought up as Catholics.”
It was what Lord Mere had expected and he replied,
“I am aware of that, Your Highness, and I have what I think is a solution to that problem, as well as to the others you have already confronted me with. It is one that was solved fifty years ago when my grandfather married the Comtesse Marie-Thérèse de Beauchamp, whose family in France was as respected and revered as yours is in Italy.”
The Prince was listening intently as Lord Mere went on,
“My grandmother was, of course, a Roman Catholic and my grandfather, the fourth Lord Mere, was very proud that the Meres have supported the Protestant cause ever since one of my ancestors had been at the Court of King Henry VIII.”
He smiled before he said,
“It seemed incredible at the time that my grandfather should wish to marry a Roman Catholic, but in fact he fell deeply in love with the young Comtesse Marie-Thérèse in the same way that I love Florencia.”
“What happened?” the Prince asked.
“They reached a compromise both between themselves and with their spiritual instructors,” Lord Mere replied. “Any daughters of the marriage would be brought up as Roman Catholics, but the boys would be Protestants.”
“And that proved acceptable to both Churches?”
“Apparently it did,” Lord Mere replied. “My grandfather and grandmother had six children, an equal number of boys and girls, and they were so happy that they became almost a legend not only in the family but also in the countr
yside.”
The Prince gave a short laugh.
“Once again, Ingram, you have removed a heavy burden from my shoulders. With such a precedent I feel that it would be impossible for anybody to criticise me for allowing a marriage that might not have the approval of the Roman Church.”
“That is what I hoped you would think,” Lord Mere said, “and, because I know it would make you happy, we will be married not here in my Chapel, but in a small Catholic Church at the far end of my estate where I hope we can keep the ceremony a secret.”
He smiled before he added,
“In fact I am sure that even the local villagers will not be aware that it is I who am the bridegroom.”
Lord Mere, with his brilliance at organisation, intended to make sure of this by keeping the doors of the Church locked and arranging for the local people to be told that the marriage was between two foreigners.
As far as he was concerned, the God who had helped him save Florencia from the horrors of a marriage with a man like Vincente was the same as the one she prayed to.
He knew the prayers that had come from the depths of their hearts had been answered because good had triumphed over evil.
All that mattered was that Florencia should be his wife and he knew that together they would shut out of their lives all that was bestial and depraved and try as far as was humanly possible to spread their happiness around them.
As he became conscious of what he was thinking, he realised that it was strangely different from the way he had looked at life since growing up.
He knew that Florencia had not only brought him to the realisation of his dreams, but her personality had raised in him new aspirations and ideals that he had never contemplated before.
*
The following morning Lord Mere left very early for London.
He carried with him the necklace that the Prince had given him as soon as they had arrived at Mere Park.
“I sent a note to Giovanni, as you suggested,” the Prince said, “and, before he handed the necklace to my servant, he made a drawing of it so that he could start work on it immediately and make the replica you have asked for.”
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