Lucy Gordon - The Italian’s Cinderella Bride

Ruth was torn by indecision. Had she done the right thing, throwing away her chance when it came? But instinct still told her that the time wasn’t right.

That night she fell asleep with her fingers crossed.

She got up next morning to find Pietro dressed and ready to leave.

‘I’m going to San Michele,’ he said. ‘I have to see Lisetta. I don’t suppose-would you come with me?’

But Ruth shook her head.

‘No, this is just you and her.’

He nodded and turned to go, but something made her call him back.

‘Pietro-don’t ever take another woman to visit her grave, not now or ever in the future.’

‘Does that apply, whoever the woman is?’ He was watching her.

‘Whoever she is, leave her out of sight. Let Lisetta have you all to herself. She’s earned it.’

‘Will you promise that you’ll still be here when I get back?’

‘I promise.’

She had no time to brood over him that day. The business of getting rid of Serafina took several hours and was accomplished by a display of firmness on Ruth’s part that won her Minna’s glowing admiration.

‘No wonder the master dressed you in diamonds,’ she said.

‘Diamonds?’

‘Sewn into the front of your costume last night.’

‘I thought that was glass,’ she said, aghast. ‘No wonder everyone was giving me those funny looks.’

Minna roared with laughter and went off to tell Celia in a knowing way that it wouldn’t be long now.

Ruth stayed at home all day, so as to be sure that Pietro would find her there whenever he arrived. When the phone rang she answered it quickly. But it was Mario.

They discussed business for a while, but before he hung up he said, ‘I’ve just checked Pietro’s emails. There’s one from Gino to say he’s going to be here tomorrow. I thought he’d want to know.’

‘Thanks, Mario, I’ll tell him.’

But when will I tell him? she wondered when she’d hung up.

She’d counted on having a little more time, but this changed things, forcing her hand. If Gino was returning tomorrow then she must take action tonight.

This was how the dice had fallen.

Pietro was calm and peaceful when he returned that evening. She didn’t ask questions but waited for him to choose his own moment. Only when Minna had finally left them did he meet her eyes.

‘Everything was different,’ he said simply. ‘In the past I’ve always asked her forgiveness. This time I just thanked her. And it felt right, as it never has before.’

The dice were rolling into place. Double six. Only one more to go.

‘What have you done today?’ he asked.

‘Thought about you, how you were coping.’

‘I can manage now, thanks to you. But you won’t go yet, will you?’ he added quickly.

‘I won’t go while you want me.’

From outside came the sound of singing. Going to the window, they saw a ‘serenade’-a procession of seven gondolas, each one with a singer, hymning the moon. As they approached the Rialto Bridge a number of sad-faced clowns tossed petals down on them.

‘They sound so melancholy,’ Ruth observed.

‘Carnival is nearly over,’ Pietro said. ‘And that is always sad.’

The procession of boats had paused outside the palazzo, while the leading singer turned to the window where they were standing, and serenaded them in Venetian.

Pietro began to translate.

‘Now the time is passing-all is over-shall we meet again another year-or shall we have only our memories?’

He stood just behind her, his hands laid gently on her shoulders.

‘I’ve got something to tell you,’ she said. ‘Mario checked your email and he says Gino’s coming back tomorrow.’

He reacted at once, snatching his hands from her shoulders and stepping back.

‘Why do you do that?’ she asked, swinging round to him.

‘Gino-’

‘So what, Gino? He’s not part of my life now. I don’t love him, I love you. And that’s not going to change.’

‘It might. When you see him-’

She reached out, putting her hands on either side of his face.

‘You’re doing it again, trying to take charge of every detail. But I say how I feel, not you. I make this decision, not you, and I’ve made it. I’m a grown woman, and I know what I want.’

‘And what-do you want?’ he asked, almost hypnotised by the force she radiated.

‘This,’ she said, and drew his head down to hers.

He laid his hands on her, unable to resist that much. But he was still fighting himself, not moving his lips on hers, except to say, ‘This is dangerous.’

‘Yes, isn’t it wonderful?’ she challenged him. ‘Stop thinking with your head. That’s more dangerous than anything.’

She kissed him again, and when she drew back he was smiling.

‘It’s not supposed to be this way,’ he murmured. ‘I’m expected to be the one in charge.’

‘Unless you meet someone who knows more than you do.’

‘Yes, you know so much more than me.’

‘I know everything,’ she confirmed. ‘Come with me. Carnival will soon be over, and we must toss the masks away.’

Ruth took him to her room, where the bed was a little wider than his, although not by much. She was without false modesty. She’d been naked in his arms once before, without knowing it. Now she wanted to relish every moment, so she stripped off her clothes in seconds and stood before him, asking a silent question.

She had her answer when he dropped down to his knees and laid his face against her breasts, enclosing her in his arms. It was a gesture of surrender, an acknowledgement that his love and need of her was stronger than the demons that had haunted him.

She closed her hands behind his head, drawing him closer, inviting him to make his home in her love and care, and his caresses told her that it was where he wanted to be. He too discarded his clothes quickly and they clung together, not hurrying because every moment was precious and they had never dared to think they would reach this moment.

She was smaller than he remembered, more delicate, yet stronger. He understood that strength now. He’d discovered it in her spirit, now he found it in her flesh that was strangely elusive, while at the same time her clasp on him had a power and purpose that thrilled him. When she reached for him he felt enfolded in her love, carried to safety.

An old-fashioned man, he had never before thought of seeking safety in a woman, yet from her he craved it. She could give him love and pleasure, but she could also do what no other woman could do, and strengthen him against the world.

The world seemed very far away at this moment. Their trust in each other was instinctive. When he caressed her he found no hesitancy. She offered herself to him gladly, as though every inch of her body had waited only for him. He loved her for that, but he loved her even more for the look in her eyes as she watched him, a look of delight, expectancy and fulfilment.

He loved her too for her readiness to commit to him while not knowing what the morrow held, for the way she returned caress for caress, wanting him, making him feel like a king.

He cupped one breast in his hand, feeling how naturally it fitted there, as though made just for him, how swiftly the nipple peaked at the touch of his lips, how bravely it spoke of her desire.

She laughed softly and the sound went through him, shredding his control so that it was a struggle not to take her swiftly. But he forced himself to wait, to give her time to flower, even though the sound of her breathing was already telling him what he longed to know.

Ruth lay back, luxuriating in the joy of what was happening. The touch of his fingers, his lips, sent pleasure glowing through her, bringing her closer to the longed-for moment when she could let go of control. But greater than this was the joy of seeing his defences fall away, knowing that he’d abandoned them because his trust in her was complete.