Bride By Choice

She stared at him, stricken. It was true.

Lorenzo spoke his next words with a bitterness that she could never have imagined from him. ‘I loved you more than I’ve ever loved anyone, or ever will again. But now-I think it would have been better if we’d never met.’

She became aware of a rumbling noise growing louder. Cars had begun to arrive, doors banged, footsteps thundered and suddenly a vast crowd flooded into the room from the terrace.

‘Disgraciatu! Disgraciatu!’ The cry filled the room and Helen was never sure who’d uttered the words. Her father, perhaps, bearing down on her in a towering rage.

‘My daughter!’ he shouted. ‘That my daughter should do this! And with the whole city looking on.’

‘Poppa, I’m sorry it happened that way-’ she tried to say.

‘You’ve brought shame on your family,’ he screamed. ‘You’ve dishonoured your promise, dishonoured your father-’

‘Wait.’ Lorenzo laid a hand on Poppa’s arm and he immediately tried to be calmer.

‘I offer my apologies to the Martelli family,’ he choked. ‘I am shamed to the dust.’

A look of disgust passed across Lorenzo’s face. ‘Nothing that has happened today has shamed anybody,’ he said firmly. ‘Elena changed her mind, as she had the right to do. In time, we will both be glad that she had the courage.’

Helen was standing by the bed, holding onto one of the posts, feeling as though all the strength had drained out of her after the anguish of the last few days. But at the realisation that Lorenzo was going to defend her she fixed her eyes on him.

It wasn’t totally a surprise. She had always known that he was generous. But for him to stand up for her now, when he was lacerated by humiliation, brought tears to her eyes.

But her father was still in full flow.

‘You are kinder than she deserves,’ he cried. ‘But to leave you at the altar-there can be no forgiveness for such a cowardly, disgraceful act.’

‘I hope you are wrong,’ Lorenzo said, very pale. ‘Because I myself once committed just such an act. A year ago I walked out on my wedding, in the same cathedral.’

Poppa blenched as he realised that Lorenzo could construe his words as an insult to himself. ‘That is quite different-’ he hurried to say.

‘It is not different at all,’ Lorenzo said firmly. ‘I was granted forgiveness, and I am the last person who should blame Elena. Nor will I allow anyone else to blame her. She had her reasons-’ he took a choking breath ‘-good reasons. The blame is mine.’

That silenced them for a moment, but then Giorgio shouldered his way to the front. Either he hadn’t heard Lorenzo’s words, or he was too full of rage and disappointment to take them in.

‘You fool!’ he screamed at Helen. ‘You had your chance-a chance for all of us-and you threw it away.’

‘Be silent!’ Lorenzo warned him.

Giorgio ignored him. ‘You think only of yourself,’ he bawled at Helen. ‘You get some stupid idea in your head and your whole family has to suffer. Shame on you.’

‘That’s enough!’

At first nobody recognised that the fierce command had come from Lorenzo, so unlike himself did he sound. Gradually the room grew quiet, and they all turned to see a stern faced man where a boy had once been.

‘I forbid you to say another word,’ Lorenzo said, speaking slowly and emphatically for Giorgio’s benefit. ‘You have nothing to say to Elena Angolini. Not a thing. She hasn’t harmed you, and I shall not allow you to harm her.’

‘You will not-?’ Giorgio scoffed.

‘I will not allow,’ Lorenzo repeated coldly.

Giorgio cast him a belligerent look which made Renato and Bernardo start forward, but Lorenzo halted them with a gesture. They stepped back. They had seen something in their brother that had never been there before and their faces expressed their satisfaction.

‘Get out of Sicily,’ Lorenzo said.

‘Who are you to-?’

‘Get out now, on the afternoon plane. A car will take you to the airport. Collect your passport and leave this minute. If you don’t, bad things will happen to you.’

Nobody had ever seen Lorenzo like this before. Giorgio made one last effort at assertion, but it amounted to no more than taking a deep breath, and collapsed at once. He began to inch backwards through the crowd that parted for him, until he turned and ran. His wife slipped out after him, and the others began to drift away too.

When only the Martellis were left Lorenzo turned to his family.

‘I would like to speak to Elena alone, please.’

They obeyed at once. None of them would have defied the commanding man who stood there. Only Baptista hesitated, stepping up to Helen and kissing her cheek. She looked at her son, who responded with a brief smile and said almost inaudibly, ‘Thank you, Mamma. Now, please go. And send us some coffee and sandwiches.’

‘I don’t need anything,’ Helen said.

‘Yes, you do,’ he told her firmly. ‘You need strong black coffee, and then you’ll have something to eat.’

It was a voice she had never heard from him before. She stared at him.

CHAPTER TEN

WHEN Fede had led Baptista from the room Lorenzo took hold of Helen’s arms and moved her until he could push her gently down to sit on the bed.

‘Helen, I want you to listen to me very seriously,’ he said, still speaking in the new tone, as though it wasn’t really Lorenzo, but some older, more serious man who had taken his place. ‘Somehow we have to deal with this mess.’

‘We? It’s my mess. I’ll sort it.’

‘You can’t. Not alone. We have to present a united front.’

Her laugh had a touch of hysteria. ‘What did you do last time? No, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that.’

‘It’s a fair question. I vanished for several days. Your way is more courageous.’

‘Sure, I’m a real heroine, aren’t I?’ she said bitterly.

‘Yes, you are. With all that pressure from your family and mine, with me so determined to marry you at all costs that I never gave you time to think-you found the guts to say no to the lot of us. Good for you, although-’ his mockery was directed at himself, ‘I can’t say I’m feeling great about it right now.’

‘You’re actually defending me?’

‘What should I do? Rail about how shocking it is to leave someone at the altar? Me? ’

‘But you’re a man. Remember telling me that a woman just couldn’t do such a thing in Sicily?’

‘That was long ago, and we were making jokes. I said many things-ah, Helen, the things I said!’ He voice shook suddenly and he moved away so that she couldn’t see his face.

His pain was almost tangible. She wanted to reach out to him, but she’d shut herself off from that, forever.

There was a knock on the door. She darted to the window, not wanting to be seen by the servant who’d brought the tray, and went out onto the terrace. From here she could see the courtyard where there were still several cars, and suddenly Giorgio and his wife emerged.

After a moment Lorenzo came to fetch her. He too stood watching Giorgio’s departure, until the man himself became aware of them, regarding him from above. An ugly grin split his face, and he raised both hands until the back of his knuckles were against his forehead, the index fingers pointing upwards, so that the effect was of a pair of horns. Then he dashed for the car.

Horns. The sign of the cuckold.

‘Did he mean-?’ Helen began, incensed.

Lorenzo shrugged. ‘He’s an ignorant man. Forget him.’