City of Stars (26 page)

For Luciano and Georgia it was a tense time. They had the threat of the Duke hanging over them and they were worried about Falco too. Georgia was able to reassure Luciano that he was doing well in the other world but neither of them had thought that his body would endure so long in Talia.

Gaetano arrived back in Remora three days after his brother had been found unconscious and went straight to the hospital to visit him. It was only after a harrowing few hours that he left for the Ram. He found Luciano and Georgia and Cesare in the stable yard. At first they said nothing, just embraced.

‘I didn't think he would do it so soon,' whispered Gaetano. ‘To be honest, although he said goodbye, I didn't really think he'd do it at all. Were you all with him? Was it easy?'

‘Not me,' said Cesare. ‘I'm not a Stravagante. But I'm really sorry.'

‘We were there,' said Luciano. ‘Georgia took care of everything at the other end.'

‘He's in good hands,' she said.

‘The best,' said Luciano. ‘He is with my own parents.'

Gaetano started, then hugged Luciano. ‘Then we are brothers,' he said.

Luciano took a deep breath. ‘How is the Duchessa?' he asked.

‘Wonderful!' said Gaetano. ‘She really is an amazing person. She will be here in a few days.'

And Georgia wondered whose heart was beating faster – hers or Luciano's.

Chapter 19

The Dirt Goes Down

It was late evening when the state carriage of Bellezza rumbled through the Gate of the Sun. A sizeable crowd of Remorans, mainly from the Ram, waited to greet it, waving the standards of their Twelfth, the black and white banners of the city and a few Bellezzan flags adorned with masks. Gaetano stood at the gate, with his older brothers and his uncle, representing the di Chimici family. Duke Niccolò could not be persuaded to leave the hospital, even for such an important visitor.

Heralds played a fanfare of welcome and in the background could be heard the faint throb of drums as other Twelfths kept up their perpetual practice for the parade before the race. Rodolfo alighted from the carriage and handed Arianna down so that she could accept the formal greeting of Pope Lenient VI.

The crowd sighed. She was as beautiful as her reports; though it was a pity they could not see her face properly, masked as it was in accordance with the custom of her city. But she was tall and graceful, with a riot of chestnut curls caught up only loosely on top of her head and she wore black and white satin in honour of the city colours of Remora – a touch which its citizens appreciated.

The young Duchessa curtsied to the Pope and kissed his ring, showing a proper respect for the church, of which the Remorans also approved. But the Pope drew her to her feet quickly and presented her to his three nephews. The crowd applauded the handsome young Giglian nobles bending over the Duchessa's hand in turn. But they couldn't help noticing that she spent the longest time talking to the youngest brother, who was nothing much to look at.

Luciano noticed that too as he stood among the supporters of the Ram. He hadn't seen Arianna for nearly a month and he didn't know when he would be able to be alone with her. She was being led off to the Papal palace in Twins territory, a place he was steering well clear of at the moment. And she was still talking to Gaetano. Luciano felt horrible. He really liked Gaetano – but not as much as he liked Arianna.

The stooped black figure behind Arianna turned at that moment and looked straight at Luciano. Rodolfo the Stravagante had sensed not only one of his brotherhood but his favoured apprentice. The nod and smile he gave Luciano were fleeting but enough to lift his spirits. Rodolfo was here and everything was going to be all right.

‘They look well, don't they?' said a low voice in his ear and he turned to see a familiar face, even though it was lightly covered by a veil.

‘Silvia!' he gasped. ‘I didn't know you were coming.'

‘Nor do they,' she said, smiling. ‘Do you think they'll be pleased?'

‘Surely it's not safe?' whispered Luciano. ‘There are di Chimici everywhere, as you see, and the Duke is in a dangerous mood.'

‘I heard about his boy,' said Silvia. ‘Strange isn't it how someone who can order the deaths of strangers along with a new pair of boots should be such a loving family man?'

‘He is my friend,' said Luciano.

‘Duke Niccolò?' she asked.

‘No, his youngest son, Falco,' said Luciano. ‘I think Duke Niccolò would like to put me in with his next boot order.'

It had been hard for Georgia to leave Remora that night and face a new day in London, knowing that Luciano was going to be reunited with the famous Arianna. It would have been difficult enough if the old Lucien had lived and found himself a girlfriend among people Georgia knew. But this new Luciano, with his velvet clothes and his aristocratic friends, was living in a world that Georgia could only ever visit briefly, in a time that had vanished centuries ago. And now that the Duchessa had arrived, Georgia's special time alone with him was coming to an end.

The last week in Remora had been very scary – so much so that at times she had thought of giving up her night journeys there. After all, she had done what she had intended to do. ‘Nicholas Duke' was safe in her world, looked after by the Mulhollands, seeing doctors and planning his new future.

But in Remora Falco was dying. No one in the city doubted it. The Duke was beside himself with grief and spent every possible hour at his son's bedside in the hospital. Still Georgia had returned every night, caught between the private drama of the di Chimici family and the public excitement that was building up towards the race.

Her two closest friends in Remora were involved in both these events. Cesare could not conceal his enthusiasm about the Stellata; he talked to Georgia about it when they went bareback riding every day, telling her about the secret pacts between jockeys of the different Twelfths, and about the many rituals and customs surrounding the great race.

Luciano was openly worried about what might happen to him and Georgia. Niccolò di Chimici had threatened both of them with serious consequences if Falco should die and that moment was getting nearer. The boy had not opened his eyes since he had been found with the empty poison bottle nearly a week ago. But the doctors of the city had been baffled. There had been none of the symptoms of a poisoning. And everyone was reluctant to think that someone so young should give up his own life. Suicide was as rare in Talia as murder was common.

Georgia and Luciano were not allowed to visit the hospital, though they had tried. The Duke kept fierce watch over his son. So instead they talked in Paolo's kitchen, Georgia telling Luciano everything she knew about how the Talian was faring in London.

And he was blooming. Georgia was a regular visitor at the Mulhollands' now, which no one found odd, since she had been the first to discover the boy. It was very difficult to remember to call him Nicholas, though. He, however, was adapting well to his new identity. The Mulhollands had bought him some clothes and he even used some old ones that Lucien had grown out of but not thrown away. It made Georgia jump the first time she saw him in the grey hooded sweatshirt that Lucien had worn the first time she set eyes on him.

She had introduced him to Alice, who was intrigued by her friendship with the younger boy.

‘I suppose you feel responsible, since you found him,' said Alice.

‘You're right there,' said Georgia. ‘Responsible is exactly what I feel.'

Falco visited her house too and she even took him to the stables when she went riding on Saturday, since it was one of the times when Maura drove her. Fortunately, Maura didn't think there was anything wrong with the lost boy being friends with her daughter, now that the question of his fostering had been sorted out, and she also had hopes of the contact with horses being therapeutic for him.

‘Perhaps it will jog his memory about his accident?' she suggested to Georgia.

Falco was ecstatic at being around horses again. This was something he could fully understand about his new life. Although he couldn't ride, Jean showed him round the stables while Georgia was out on her lesson, introducing him to all the horses who weren't in use. He was especially drawn to a black mare named Blackbird.

‘Do you think I could come here and ride her when I've had my operation, Mrs O'Grady?' he asked Maura.

‘Well, not straightaway,' said Maura. ‘You know you'll have to be in plaster for six weeks. But when you've recovered, we'll talk to your foster-parents about riding lessons.'

‘We'd love to have you,' said Jean, though privately she couldn't imagine that this damaged boy would ever be fit to ride again.

When Georgia got to Remora the morning after the Duchessa's arrival, she found a stranger in the kitchen. A very elegant middle-aged woman, with a veil, was talking to Doctor Dethridge and it was clear that they were old friends. A gangly red-haired young man, apparently the woman's servant, stood behind her chair.

‘Ah, my dere,' said Dethridge. ‘Let me presente yow to Signora Bellini. Silvia, this is yonge George – one of us.'

The stranger offered Georgia a cool, beautifully manicured hand and a piercing scrutiny.

‘So,' she said. ‘You are the new Stravagante. My ... Rodolfo said you were a girl.'

Georgia felt herself blushing. She had never felt so awkward in her coarse Talian stable-boy's clothes as she did under this woman's violet gaze.

‘Ah,' said Silvia. ‘I see you are in disguise. Very wise in this city. I should perhaps adopt the same stratagem. Although in a manner of speaking I already have.'

Georgia's mind was racing, trying to work out where this obviously important woman fitted into the pattern. Had she really said ‘my Rodolfo'? Who would have the right to such intimacy with the great man? And why did she need a disguise?

At that moment Luciano, Paolo and Cesare came back from the racetrack. It had started to rain and the going was slippery. Cesare was anxious about it because today was the all-important laying of the earth for the racetrack round the Campo.

‘It is just a shower,' his father reassured him. ‘No doubt the track will be fine.'

‘I see you have met Silvia,' Luciano said to Georgia, and she wondered again at his easy manner with the great people of Talia.

‘When are you going to see Arianna?' asked Silvia, putting a question Georgia was interested in too.

‘I don't know,' said Luciano.

There came a knock at the door and both the young Stravaganti jumped, though it was hardly likely that the Duchessa of Bellezza would be visiting in the Twelfth of the Ram.

Paolo opened the door to a figure Georgia knew must be Rodolfo. In fact she recognised him as the stranger who had come to Lucien's funeral. A slightly stooped thin man with silvered hair and a distinguished look, he stepped into the room and clasped Paolo warmly in his arms. Dethridge too was embraced and then Luciano. The visitor looked long and searchingly into his face.

‘It does my heart good to see you,' Georgia heard him say quietly and saw Luciano looking at his master with open devotion.

What am I doing here? she thought, feeling small and insignificant.

But then the tall man turned to her and took her hand. She found herself held by dark and steady eyes which seemed able to fathom her deepest secrets.

‘You must be Georgia,' he said courteously. ‘It is an honour to meet you.'

‘Five Stravaganti in one room,' said a low voice. ‘We should all be honoured.'

Now it was Rodolfo's turn to be disconcerted. To her astonishment, Georgia saw his calm demeanour completely ruffled, as the mysterious Silvia stepped forwards.