Chapter 24 Cosimo
Cosimo
The wedding procession was coming back down the hill from the church, jubilant cheers ricocheting through the narrow streets as Silvana and Luchino led the throng towards Villa Maria, where the reception was being held.
Cosimo wove through the tangle of men and women in their finery, past the nonnas, slow on their thick legs and stiff feet.
The widows in their black lace mantillas were talking rapidly – something about the bride’s dress, he couldn’t quite hear.
Somewhere up ahead, someone was playing a tambourine as the little children raced and played.
But ahead of them all was her.
‘Rafa!’ he called.
Her name landed like a bird on her shoulder and he saw how she looked back with giddy happiness, her eyes shining with joy.
When she saw him calling for her, reaching for her through the crowd, her smile grew even brighter, and it made him feel like Superman that he might be capable of making her even more radiant.
He had felt as if time itself had stopped when she’d walked into the church wearing a dress he knew could only be his sister’s, and yet looked as if it had been made for her.
She made Valentina Fabiani look cheap. She made his mother look tired.
Even the bride’s light shone a little less brightly beside her.
He hadn’t been able to take his eyes off her throughout the entire service.
Every time she’d looked his way, he’d already been staring.
He had tried to laugh it off – pulling faces, singing out of tune, as if they were still ten years old, but it was no laughing matter; he knew that.
Finally he understood what had happened to him.
The truth he’d been trying to outrun all year had caught him by the scruff of the neck and dangled him like an errant puppy.
Cosimo Franchetti, second son of the Duke of Paliano and playboy-in-chief of Rome, was in love.
‘Hey,’ he panted, coming to walk alongside her. ‘Thanks for waiting back there!’
She smiled. ‘I’m in the wedding party! My sister’s the bride, in case you’d forgotten? I can’t hang around for you, you know,’ she said archly, giving him a little side-eye as they walked.
‘Don’t I know it.’
‘And what does that mean?’ she asked, her tone playful.
‘Just what I said,’ he shrugged. ‘You’ve left me behind in every way.’
‘Mm, perhaps,’ she smiled, seeming pleased by the thought, closing her eyes briefly as she tipped her face to the sky.
It was a day that was golden, everything about it perfect, and he realized, seeing her so happy here, how very unhappy she had seemed in all the days before this.
Because of him. Because he and Romola and Fon had all hurt her.
But today she was untouchable.
‘Nice dress, by the way.’
‘Thanks. It’s your sister’s.’
He grinned at her unapologetic honesty. ‘Well, whatever you do, don’t give it back to her.’
She grinned. ‘And where would I ever wear this again? To Tito’s?’ She stroked a hand on the bodice, her features softening at the luxurious fabric.
‘I’ll take you somewhere you can wear it.’
She laughed, as if he’d cracked his best joke.
He caught her by the elbow, hating the way she dismissed the idea out of hand, as if it was inconceivable that ‘they’ might exist beyond the port. ‘No, I will! You should come to Rome.’
‘Cosi!’ She laughed harder, shaking her head at the ridiculousness of it all.
‘I’m serious. I could take you out there, introduce you to my friends …’
Her laughter died away; she was still smiling, but a sadness had come into her eyes now. He could feel her pulling away from him, as if a dangerous current was eddying at her feet. ‘I hardly think I’d be of any interest to them.’
‘How can you say that?’ he protested. ‘You’re interesting to me!’
‘I’m not even interesting to myself, Cosi!’
He stared at her. How could she even think such a thing?
‘Rafa!’ They both turned to see her mother standing at the ramp that led down to the beach, beckoning her over.
‘Photographs,’ she groaned. ‘Catch you later.’
‘Wait –’ He caught her by the elbow again, wishing he could just hold onto her for the rest of the day. ‘You’ll save me a dance later, yes?’
She laughed again. ‘Why? So you can step on my toes?’
‘I’m a very good dancer. Excellent, in fact.’
‘If you say so!’ she said with a roll of her eyes.
He watched her go, teetering in heels and the narrow skirt, looking the very definition of Venus. ‘That’s a yes, then?’ he called after her. ‘Rafa?’