Rinaldo's Inherited Bride. Lucy Gordon

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СКАЧАТЬ of her legally.’

      ‘So we have to pay her.’

      ‘How? All the money we have is ploughed into the land until harvest. We’re already overdrawn at the bank, and a loan would be at a ruinous rate of interest.’

      ‘Can’t our lawyer suggest something?’

      ‘He’s going soft in the head. Since she’s single he had the brilliant idea that one of us marry her.’

      ‘That’s it!’ Gino cried. ‘The perfect answer. All problems solved.’

      He spread his hands in a triumphant gesture and gave his attractive, easy laugh. He was twenty-seven and there was still a touch of the boy about him.

      ‘So now we have to meet her,’ he said. ‘I wonder if she’ll come to Poppa’s funeral?’

      ‘She won’t dare!’ Rinaldo snapped. ‘Now, come and have supper. Teresa’s been getting it ready.’

      In the kitchen they found Teresa, the elderly housekeeper, laying the table. As she worked she wept. It had been like that every day since Vincente had died.

      Rinaldo wasn’t hungry, but he knew that to say so would be to upset the old woman even more. Instead he placed a gentle hand on her shoulder, silently comforting her until she stopped weeping.

      ‘That’s better now,’ he said kindly. ‘You know how Poppa hated long faces.’

      She nodded. ‘Always laughing,’ she said huskily. ‘Even if the crops failed, he would find something to laugh at. He was a rare one.’

      ‘Yes, he was,’ Rinaldo agreed. ‘And we must remember him like that.’

      She looked at the chair by the great kitchen range, where Vincente had often sat.

      ‘He should be there,’ she said. ‘Telling funny stories, making silly jokes. Do you remember how terrible his jokes were?’

      Rinaldo nodded. ‘And the worst puns I ever heard.’

      Gino came in and gave Teresa a big, generous hug. He was a young man who hugged people easily, and it made him loved wherever he went. Now it was enough to start her crying again, and he held her patiently in his strong arms until she was ready to stop.

      Rinaldo left them and went outside. When he’d gone Teresa muttered, ‘He’s lost so many of those he loved, and each time I’ve seen his face grow a little darker, a little more bleak.’

      Gino nodded. He knew Teresa was talking about Rinaldo’s wife Maria, and their baby son, both dead in the second year of their marriage.

      ‘If they’d lived, the little boy would have been nearly ten by now,’ he reflected. ‘And they’d probably have had several more children. This house would have been full of kids. I’d have had nephews and nieces to teach mischief to, instead of—’

      He looked up at the building that was much too large for the three people who shared it.

      ‘Now he only has you,’ Teresa agreed.

      ‘And you. And that daft mutt. Sometimes I think Brutus means more to him than any other creature, because he was Maria’s dog. Apart from that he loves the farm, and he’s possessive about it because he has so little else. I hope Signorina Dacre has a lot of nerve, because she’s going to need it.’

      Rinaldo returned with the large indeterminate animal Gino had stigmatised as ‘that daft mutt’. Brutus had an air of amiability mixed with anarchy, plus huge feet. Ignoring Teresa’s look of disapproval he parked himself under the table, close to his master.

      Over pasta and mushrooms Gino said, lightly, ‘So I suppose one of us has to marry the English woman.’

      ‘When you say “one of us” you mean me, I suppose,’ Rinaldo growled. ‘You wouldn’t like settling down with a wife, not if it meant having to stop your nonsense. Besides, she evidently has an orderly mind, which means she’d be driven nuts by you in five minutes.’

      ‘Then you should be the one,’ Gino said.

      ‘No, thank you.’ Rinaldo’s tone was a warning.

      ‘But you’re the head of the family now. I think it’s your duty. Hey—what are you doing with that wine?’

      ‘Preparing to pour it over your head if you don’t shut up.’

      ‘But we have to do something. We need a master plan.’

      His brother replaced the wine on the table, annoyance giving way to faint amusement. Gino’s flippancy might often be annoying, but it was served up with a generous helping of charm.

      Rinaldo would have declared himself immune to that charm. Even so, he regarded his brother with a wry look that was almost a grin.

      ‘Then get to work,’ he said. ‘Make her head spin.’

      ‘I’ve got a better idea. Let’s toss for her.’

      ‘For pity’s sake grow up!’

      ‘Seriously, let Fate make the decision.’

      ‘If I go through with this charade, I don’t want to hear it mentioned again. Hurry up and get it over with!’

      Gino took a coin from his pocket and flipped it high in the air. ‘Call!’

      ‘Tails.’

      Gino caught the coin and slapped it down on the back of his hand.

      ‘Tails!’ he said. ‘She’s all yours.’

      Rinaldo groaned. ‘I thought you were using your two-headed coin or I wouldn’t have played.’

      ‘As if I’d do a thing like that!’ Gino sounded aggrieved.

      ‘I’ve known times when—well, never mind. I’m not interested. You can have her.’

      He rose and drained his glass before Gino could answer. He didn’t feel that he could stand much more of this conversation.

      Gino went to bed first. He was young. Even in his grief for a beloved father he slept easily.

      Rinaldo could barely remember what it was to sleep peacefully. When the house was quiet he slipped out. The moon was up, casting a livid white glow over the earth. The light was neither soft nor alluring, but harsh, showing him outlines of trees and hills in brutal relief.

      That was the land to which he’d given his whole life. Here, in this soft earth, he’d lain one night with a girl who smelled of flowers and joy, whispering words of love.

      ‘Soon it will be our wedding day, love of my life—come to me—be mine always.’

      And she had come to him in passion and tenderness, generous and giving, nothing held back, her body young and pliable in his arms.

      But for such a little time.

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