Lucy Gordon - Rinaldo’s Inherited Bride

His fingers tightened on her shoulders, giving her a tiny shake.

‘Will you stop?’ he asked fiercely. ‘Will you stop?’

‘I’m sorry,’ she said gently after a moment. ‘I know it isn’t really my business. But now I can’t help getting involved. Where do I draw the line?’

‘Right here,’ he said, still holding her. ‘You’ve reached the boundary. Stay on your side of it, and we’ll manage.’

Suddenly she realised that he was shaking. Through the contact of his fingers on her bare arms she could sense his whole body vibrating.

In her turn she reached up to take hold of his arms.

‘Rinaldo,’ she said. ‘Don’t shut me out. Let me help.’

‘I don’t need your help.’

But she refused to be snubbed. ‘After last night it’s too late,’ she said quietly. ‘I know what I know.’

She knew she was treading on dangerous ground and for a moment she thought he would lose his temper. But instead he sighed and the anger went out of his face.

‘How can you possibly help?’ he asked heavily.

‘You mean I’m the last person who ever could. Because I caused all the trouble, didn’t I?’

Hearing his own accusation put so bluntly seemed to do something to Rinaldo. She saw his eyes full of shock as he realised that he was still holding her. He dropped his hands from her arms.

There was an ache inside her that had something to do with his misery. She wanted to assuage it and ease the hurt for them both.

He sat down on a bale of hay, leaning back against a post of the barn, his hands hanging loose as though he’d lost the will to fight.

‘No, it’s not your fault,’ he said tiredly. ‘I know I said that at first, but in truth I know better. It wasn’t you who created the situation.’

He took a long breath. His face was livid.

‘It was my father,’ he said at last. ‘A man I trusted, and who let me live in a fool’s paradise. He never warned me, that’s what-’ He made a confused gesture.

‘That’s what hurts, isn’t it?’ she whispered, sitting beside him.

His eyes were full of resignation, almost despair.

‘Yes,’ he said simply. ‘We used to sit up late at night, discussing problems. I thought we were a team, and all the time he was keeping me at a distance, not trusting me with the truth.’

‘Oh, no,’ she said at once. ‘It wasn’t like that.’

‘How can you possibly know?’

‘Because in an odd way I feel as if I do know him. Everyone talks about how lovely he was, laughing, singing, always looking on the bright side. I think that probably made him a wonderful person and a loveable father, but maybe not a very practical farmer.’

He nodded. ‘That’s true.’

‘But you are practical. I expect you hauled him back from the brink a few times.’

‘That’s true as well. He was always going after madcap schemes and having to be rescued. You’d think he’d learn.’

Alex shook her head.

‘People like that never do learn,’ she said gently. ‘They’re always sure they’re going to get it right next time. I think he relied on you completely, and was just a little bit in awe of you.’

‘Nonsense, how could my father-?’ But Rinaldo checked himself, and a strange, distant look came over his face, as though he were hearing distant echoes.

‘Perhaps,’ he said after a while.

‘You’ve said that the money helped this place.’

‘A lot. Poppa ploughed it into Belluna-he was a good enough farmer for that. The investment has enabled us to prosper as never before.’

‘Then don’t you see how he must have cherished his secret, the feeling that he’d done something to make things right, instead of leaving it all to you? He probably looked forward to surprising you with it one day, rather like a child springing a surprise on an adult and saying, “There, aren’t I clever? What do you think of that ?”’

Rinaldo stared at her, as if thunderstruck.

‘Yes,’ he murmured. ‘That’s exactly how he was. I can hear how he would have said it.’

‘It isn’t his fault that it all went wrong,’ she pleaded. ‘He couldn’t have known what would happen. Maybe it hurt his pride to have to depend on you so much. He wanted you to admire him.’

‘You make it sound so convincing,’ he said in a low voice. ‘If only I could remember-’

‘Remember what?’

‘Something-anything-just a moment that would tell me what was in his mind. I keep having this feeling that it’s there, just on the edge. Like when you see something out of the corner of your eye, but when you turn it vanishes. I dream about it, but it isn’t there when I awaken. Maybe it doesn’t really exist at all.’

‘If it does, it will come back to you,’ she said. ‘Not now, because your head’s all scrambled, but when you feel easier inside.’

His mouth quirked wryly.

‘I think I’ve forgotten what it’s like to feel easy inside.’

She looked at his hands, lying loosely clasped. He was a big man and his hands were large in proportion. She could still feel their power where he’d gripped her. Yet now they looked helpless.

‘You carry all the burdens for everyone, don’t you?’ she said.

He didn’t answer, and she wondered if she’d taken a risk too far. But his eyes held only a searching look, as though he were trying to fathom her.

From outside came Gino’s voice.

‘Hey! Anybody there?’

He was coming toward the barn. Rinaldo put his finger to his lips, shaking his head slightly, and hurried out before Gino could enter.

She heard his voice carrying back.

‘I was just coming. We have a lot to do today.’

Their voices faded. After a while she slipped out of the barn to find everywhere quiet.

She went indoors and put through a call to David, but there was only his answerphone. They had spoken several times since she came to Belluna. She had apologised for being so long, and he’d encouraged her to stay as long as necessary.

She always finished these calls feeling a little guilty that he was being so nice and understanding. She felt she was taking advantage of his patience to indulge herself.

One thing she was sure of. There was no way she was leaving before the Feast of St Romauld, which took place on June 19th.

‘There’s a parade of floats through the streets,’ Gino told her, ‘and we all wander around eating and drinking, and then we dance. I shall dance only with you, amor mio . And you must dance only with me.’

‘She can’t do that,’ Rinaldo said at once. ‘Montelli and the others will want some of her attention, and you must do what’s necessary to keep them dangling, eh, Alex?’ He spoke pleasantly, as though this were an accepted joke between them.

‘Of course,’ she said, playing up to him.

Gino assumed an air of theatrical comedy.

‘But why should you need the others when you have us?’ he demanded, clasping her waist and leaning over her dramatically.

‘Let’s say I like some variety,’ she chuckled, clinging to him to avoid falling. ‘Now, get off me, you great clown.’

When the day arrived, every worker on the farm went to the festival. Families piled into cars, converging on the road to the city so that they ended up in what Gino told her was the Belluna procession.

Alex spent more time choosing what to wear for the festival than she had meant to. Her first choice had been a white dress. But somehow, at the last minute, it seemed wrong.

After trying on one dress after another she came to one of brilliant scarlet that seemed just right. It had a steep V-neck and looked splendid against her light tan.

That was something new. In London she strove to look elegant, businesslike. But not splendid. Suddenly only splendid would do.