dancing with glee.
A vehicle was approaching down the length of the Corso Vittorio Emanuele, and attracting a good deal of attention. Traffic was halting, drivers leaning out and cheering, policeman grinned and waved the vehicle through, while crowds of smiling people lined the road.
‘If I’m not very much mistaken,’ Renato said, ‘that’s Enrico Cacelli’s pig cart.’
‘And in the back…’ Bernardo said.
‘Yes,’ Lorenzo said in a daze. ‘In the back…’
‘Any other woman,’ Renato observed, ‘goes to her wedding in a car.’
A smile was breaking over Lorenzo’s face. ‘But my Elena is like no other woman in the world.’
The bride saw him and waved frantically. As the cart rumbled into the piazza he began to run. Enrico Cacelli drew the mule to a halt so suddenly that Helen almost tumbled out of the back, into Lorenzo’s arms.
‘The car-’ she began, and the rest was cut off by his mouth. When she could speak again she said breathlessly, ‘I was so afraid you’d think I wasn’t coming.’
‘I never doubted you for one moment,’ Lorenzo said emphatically. He lifted her high in strong arms. ‘Now,’ he said firmly, ‘we go to church, and I’m not letting go of you until you’re Signora Martelli.’
‘That’s all I want to be,’ she assured him joyfully.
‘Then let’s go.’
The crowd cheered and applauded, the choir burst into the
Lucy Gordon
