Rinaldo's Inherited Bride. Lucy Gordon
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swear I didn’t. I don’t say that it’s true, but it’s the legend.’
‘And a good legend can be as powerful as the truth,’ Alex mused.
He nodded. ‘More. Because the legend tells you what people want to believe.’
She gave a little laugh. ‘Like your brother wants to believe in me as a Wicked Witch.’
Gino regarded her wryly. ‘Do you know how often you do that?’ he asked.
‘Do what?’
‘Bring the conversation back to Rinaldo. You’ve convinced yourself that he’s pulling my strings, and I feel as though you don’t really see me at all. You’re looking over my shoulder at him all the time.’
‘I’m sorry,’ she said quickly. ‘I didn’t mean to sound like that. It’s just—well, perhaps you should blame him. I’m sure he likes to think of himself as pulling your strings—everyone’s strings. Somehow, one takes him at his own estimation.’
‘That’s true,’ he said with a rueful sigh. ‘Let’s have some champagne.’
He turned to call the waiter, leaving Alex to reflect. She was shaken by the realisation that Gino was right. While she smiled and flirted with him, Rinaldo seemed to be constantly there, an unseen but dominant presence.
When the champagne had arrived he began to reminisce once more about his childhood.
‘I’ll never forget the day my father brought me to Florence for the carnival in the streets. We went through it together, visiting all the stalls. He was as much a kid as I was. At least, that’s what my mother always said.’
‘How old were you when she died?’
‘Eight.’
‘How sad! And your father never remarried?’
‘No, he said he never would, and he stuck to that until his own death.’
‘Your father sounds like a delightful person,’ she said warmly.
‘He was. Of course, Rinaldo thought he was too frivolous, always joking when he should have been serious. Poppa would tease him and say, “Lighten up, the world is a better place than you think”.’
‘Now you’re doing it,’ she told him. ‘Bringing the conversation back to Rinaldo.’
‘I know. As you say, it’s hard not to.’
‘What did he used to say when your father teased him like that?’
‘Nothing, he’d just scowl and remember something that had to be done somewhere else. I’ll swear nothing matters to him but work.’
‘Well, I suppose that’s good in a way,’ Alex said. ‘The work has to be done.’
‘Hey, I do my share. It’s just that, like Poppa, I believe in having fun too.’
‘Has Rinaldo always been gloomy?’
‘He’s always been serious, but it’s really only since his wife died that he’s actually been morose.’
‘His wife?’ Alex echoed, startled.
‘Yes, her name was Maria. She came from Fiesole, a tiny little town near here. They were childhood sweethearts. I think they got engaged when they were fifteen. They married when they were twenty.’
‘What was she like?’ Alex asked curiously.
She was trying to imagine the kind of woman who would attract Rinaldo, but she found it hard to picture him in love.
‘She was pretty and plump and motherly. You’d probably call her old-fashioned because all she wanted was to look after us. My mother was dead by then, so it was really nice having her.’
‘Is that why he married her?’ Alex asked, scandalised. ‘To have a woman about the place?’
Gino grinned.
‘Oh no! He was crazy about her. It was Poppa and me who needed motherly attention. I was ten years old. Maria was a great cook, and that’s really all a ten-year-old boy cares about. She and Rinaldo seemed very happy. I used to see him come up behind her, put his arms about her and nuzzle her neck. He was a changed man. He laughed.’
‘What happened?’
‘They were going to have a baby, but it was born at seven months and both mother and child died.’
‘Oh, heavens!’ Alex whispered in horror. ‘How long ago was that?’
‘Fifteen years. They’d been married for less than two years.’
‘How awful for him. To be so young and watch his wife die—’
‘It was worse than that. He wasn’t there. Nobody expected the baby to come so soon, and he was away buying machinery. Poppa called him as soon as things started to happen and he rushed back, but he was too late.
‘I was there in the hospital when he arrived, and I’ll never forget the sight of him. He’d driven all night, and he looked like a madman, with wild eyes. When the doctor told him Maria was dead he wouldn’t believe it. He rushed into her room and seized her up in his arms.
‘I’d never seen him cry before. I didn’t think it was possible, but he was off his head.
‘At that stage the baby was still alive, but not expected to live. They baptised him quickly. He wanted to hold him, but he couldn’t because he had to stay in the incubator. It was no use though. He died half an hour later.
‘By that time he’d calmed down but it was almost worse than when he was raving. He was in a trance, just staring and not seeing anything. He got through the funeral like that—just one funeral, with them both in the same coffin. It was almost as though he didn’t know what was happening.
‘Since then he never speaks of them. If I try to mention them he just blanks me out. I’m not sure what he feels now. Probably nothing. He seems to have deadened that side of him.’
‘Can any man do that?’ Alex mused.
‘Rinaldo can. He can do whatever he sets his mind to. Why should he want to go through such pain again?’
‘But surely it could never happen again? No man could be so unlucky twice.’
‘I think he’s decided not to take a chance on it. Since Maria died the farm has been his whole life. Poppa left the running of it to him.’
‘What about you?’
Gino gave his attractive boyish grin.
‘Theoretically I have as much authority as my brother, but Rinaldo’s a great one for letting you know who’s the meat and who’s the potatoes. His being so much older helps, of course.’
There was something slightly mechanical about Alex’s smile. She no longer felt able to joke about Rinaldo. The image of the overbearing dictator that had dominated her thoughts had suddenly become blurred.
There was another image now, a young man agonising over the death of his wife and child, then growing older too fast, hardening in his despair.
‘Are you all right?’ Gino asked as she rubbed her hand over her eyes.
‘Yes, I’m just a little tired. I’m not used to so much heat.’
‘Let me take you back to the hotel.’
The night air was blessedly cool as they strolled back. To her relief he seemed in tune with her mood, and did not talk.
At the door of the hotel he took her hand and said, ‘I’d ask to see you again, but you’d only think Rinaldo put me up to it. So I won’t.’
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