Rake Most Likely to Thrill. Bronwyn Scott

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       Chapter Five

      ‘La famiglia è la patria del cuore! Family is the country of your heart. Of course you’ve come.’ Giacomo Ricci rose from his chair and came to embrace Archer, kissing him on both cheeks the moment Archer entered the loggia where a late breakfast was being served the next morning.

      ‘Buongiorno, Zio.’ Archer bore the effusive greeting as graciously as he had last night after finding his uncle’s contrada, Torre. It hadn’t been far from the town centre, just to the west of where he’d come from. Everyone had known his uncle and it had been easy to find Giacomo among the throng of revellers. Apparently each neighbourhood had been hosting its own celebration.

      His uncle had kissed him publicly and spirited him away to his home where a new party commenced as he was introduced in whirlwind fashion to cousins, spouses of cousins and their offspring. There had been neighbours and friends after that, all eager to greet him and kiss him. He’d never been kissed by so many men in his entire life. Archer couldn’t recall the last time his father had kissed him. Had his father ever kissed him?

      Archer filled a plate with bread, cheese and fresh strawberries and took a seat at the table where he could look through the arches of the loggia into the street. The loggia was open by design, so that people passing by could wave to his uncle or stop to conduct brief business or even partake of some food. He knew enough from what his mother had told him about her home that the arrangement spoke to the power and position of her family in the contrada. To be seen with Giacomo Ricci was important. It was the sort of news people would share over dinner later in the day.

      For now, though, Archer was thankful the loggia was empty and the streets quiet after a boisterous night of festivities. He was still reeling from last evening. His uncle retook his seat. ‘Did you sleep well? I want to take you around the neighbourhood and show you everything, have you meet some people.’ His uncle’s eyes shone with warm pride as he paused, gripping Archer’s hand firmly. ‘I cannot believe you are here at last, my sister’s son, here in my own home.’

      Archer felt his throat tighten unexpectedly at the warmth and sincerity of his words. ‘I cannot believe it either. I wish it had been sooner. I promised her I would come.’ These were promises only his brother, Dare, knew about, promises he’d made that last day in his mother’s final hour and not spoken of to anyone, not even Haviland. He and Dare had been with her, all three of them simply waiting, knowing the end was so very close, that all the sunshine, all the open windows letting in the crisp autumn afternoon, couldn’t hold back the inevitable. She was going on without them. They were grown men. They should have been able to handle the reality. But Archer’s own throat had been tight with emotion as it was now.

      ‘What did you promise her?’ his uncle prompted gently. Archer struggled to find words to tell this man he knew and yet didn’t know. ‘She said, “Promise me you will go to Giacomo, Archer. Go to my home. I think you will find what you’re looking for.”’ He was looking for so much. A father figure who could replace the one his father had become, a place of his own where he could be his own man as opposed to the second son, where he could live his own dreams among the horses.

      ‘This is a pilgrimage for you?’ Giacomo asked quietly.

      ‘In part,’ Archer confessed. ‘I come here to honour her, to remember her, to know who she was before she was my mother. But I have also come here for the future, for my future, to see what I can be.’ His mother had not told him explicitly to stay in Siena, but the idea suited him, this concept of striking out on his own and under his own power.

      His uncle smiled, his grip on Archer’s hand tightening. ‘The past and future are often intertwined in this way. She was right to send you to us. You are a good son to honour her and you shall be like a son to me.’ Even if the past ten hours weren’t enough to confirm it, Archer knew from years of letters how his uncle and his wife had despaired of any children of their own.

      Archer could see now, surrounded by the big brick home of the Riccis, how disappointing it must be for his uncle not to have the home filled with children. His uncle was a well-built man, tall in the tradition of the Riccis, but his temples were greying and his years for child rearing had passed. He was a local statesman now, his days consumed with running the family cloth business and training horses. Archer understood now with vivid clarity how his mother’s last wish had been a gift for him and for her brother. Even facing death, she’d thought about what would be best for the family, for others. He would not fail her.

      * * *

      Giacomo was smiling now, already СКАЧАТЬ