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Authors: Mary Hoffman

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So in the end, Enrico left the square unscathed.

*

‘It's a beautiful night,' said Gaetano, guiding the Duchessa back to the Papal palace through the narrow streets.

‘Morning, you mean,' said Arianna, picking her way over the cobbles in her red silk slippers.

All of a sudden, he decided he had to get it over with.

‘Your Grace,' he said, stopping her underneath one of the smoking torches. ‘Arianna, this might not be the right time or place, but you will be going back to Bellezza soon and I can't wait any longer. We have spent nearly a month together and we know each other quite well now. I want to know what you think of our offer. Will you marry me?'

‘There,' said Arianna. ‘That wasn't so hard, was it? Not elegant, not romantic, but it did the job.'

*

Georgia made her way back to the stables hanging on to Cesare and Paolo. The Montalbani didn't think it right that their triumphant jockey should sleep in the hayloft, but that was what Georgia wanted. Cesare hung Enrico's bag of neckcloths on a post in the stables and gave her a final hug before stumbling into the house to sleep. Paolo embraced her too.

‘Thank you,' he said. ‘You have the courage of a warrior. You will prevail over your stepbrother.'

And then he was gone. Luciano and Dethridge had disappeared off somewhere together and Georgia had no idea where Rodolfo and Silvia were sleeping, except that it was probably in the same place. She lay down in the straw, hearing Arcangelo and Merla and Starlight and the other horses of the Ram moving beneath her. Even Dondola was back, ridden down to Remora by Roderigo, who had collected her from the Casa di Chimici and ridden her down in time to join in the Ram's celebrations.

Georgia's mind was a kaleidoscope of swirling colours and shapes – the procession, the flags, the horses, the noises, the sight of Merla hovering above the Campo, the bright ribbons of the Manoush, the kisses, the music, the wine, the . . .

*

Gaetano burst into the hospital. The Duke had fallen into a deep sleep in his chair by Falco's bed, but Francesca was still awake. The room smelled of burnt-out candles. Gaetano paused to see that Falco's chest still rose and fell, even though very lightly. Then he took Francesca's hands in his and led her from the room.

Out in the corridor where the morning light streamed on to the pictures painted on the walls of patients being bled or leeched or springing up miraculously cured, he fell on his knees on the cold tiles and asked her to marry him.

And Francesca said yes.

Georgia woke to find herself in Falco's room with the door closed but not bolted. There was no sign of him but there was a scrap of paper on the pillow beside her, containing the single word: ‘Discovered!' It was evening and the house seemed deserted. She peeled herself off the floor and went downstairs and let herself out. She had to go home and face the music. She was consoled by the thought that, whatever she had to go through now, it had been worth it.

Chapter 24

Nets of Gold

When Georgia entered the living room of her own house, it took her a few seconds to adjust. She was deadly tired and the people she had just left behind in the Ram were more real to her than her own family. She focused on Falco, who was in some ways the most familiar person there.

While the others all stared at her, she mouthed at him, ‘I won!' and had time to register his surprise and delight before the storm broke. Maura and Ralph were there and Russell and the Mulhollands and a man and a woman who Georgia gradually realised were police officers. These last two didn't stay; as far as they were concerned, a missing person inquiry had just ended happily and they had crimes to investigate.

As soon as they left, Ralph went to the kitchen to make coffee, dragging a protesting Russell with him. He wanted to stay and see the fireworks but his father was firm.

The row raged on for what seemed like hours. The same questions were asked over and over again: Where had Georgia been? Who had she been with? What had she been doing? What did Nicholas know about it?

But they made no headway. What could she say? That she had been riding a horse race in another world and had won and feasted and danced the night away, kissed by nobles and commoners? That she had seen a winged horse? That she had foiled a political coup? That she had been with the Mulhollands' son? That ‘Nicholas' was an aristocrat, hundreds of years old, from another dimension? That she was a hero called Giorgio?

Whatever Maura and Ralph had thought before, they would have been sure she was on drugs now if she had given any of these answers. She clung doggedly to a few simple ideas.

‘I can't tell you. It was nothing wrong. I was keeping a promise. Nicholas knows nothing.' (For this last she had to keep her fingers crossed but it was Falco who knew where she had been, not Nicholas.)

‘I bet that old perve in the junk shop knows something about it,' said Russell helpfully, and the inquisition intensified.

Fortunately David Mulholland turned out to know Mortimer Goldsmith and he scotched the idea that there was anything sinister about the old man.

‘It has nothing to do with Mr Goldsmith,' said Georgia dully. ‘Can I go to bed now? I'm very tired.'

‘But you can't stay out all night and most of the next day and expect us just to let you get away with it!' fumed Maura. ‘I have been worried sick about you. I never want to live through another day like today.' And she burst into tears.

Georgia felt terrible. It shouldn't all end like this, the glory and the triumph. She couldn't bear to see her mother cry and the anxious faces of the others, apart from Russell who was gloating and Falco, who had known where she was in both worlds.

‘I'm so sorry, Mum,' she said. ‘It was just something I had to do. Not illegal, or dangerous (she crossed her fingers again) or stupid. But I can't tell you about it, ever. You'll just have to trust me. I told you I would be at the Mulhollands' so that you wouldn't be worried. But what I had to do took longer than I thought – that's all. It will never happen again, I promise. Now you can ground me or punish me in whatever way you want, but I must go to bed – I haven't slept since I can't remember when.'

‘Leave it now, Maura,' said Ralph. ‘Let her rest. We'll talk about it again tomorrow.'

‘What do you mean, engaged?' said the Duke blearily, when Gaetano and Francesca came back into the room holding hands and told him their news. ‘What about the Duchessa?'

‘I asked her, Father,' said Gaetano, who had explained everything to his cousin. ‘I did what you told me, but she refused. She said that she would always be my friend but that her heart belonged to another. Then she told me to go and find Francesca.'

‘And I am free to accept him, Uncle,' said Francesca. ‘The marriage with the Bellezzan has been annulled.'

Duke Niccolò stared at them. Everything had gone wrong with his plans. But he saw that the two young people were in love and already his brain was clicking with new schemes. Gaetano would not have Bellezza but he could inherit the title of Fortezza when old cousin Jacopo died, since Jacopo only had daughters. And those daughters could be married off to Niccolò's other sons or nephews, to keep them happy and make sure they didn't have title-less husbands to threaten Gaetano's claim.

‘Very well,' he said. ‘You have my blessing. Now go and tell your news at the palace. I shall stay here with Falco.'

*

Arianna had a visitor at the Papal palace; she had not been able to sleep and was already changed into her day dress when a servant showed her mother into her apartment.

‘Signora Bellini,' he announced and withdrew.

‘Silvia,' said Arianna when he had gone. She never called her Mother, because that name was reserved for the aunt who had brought her up in obscurity on a lagoon island while Silvia Bellini had ruled Bellezza and kept the di Chimici at bay.

‘Good morning, my dear,' said Silvia, removing her veil.

‘I suppose I don't have to tell you how dangerous it is, coming here?' said Arianna.

‘Not at all,' said Silvia. ‘No one here has ever seen my face except you and your father.'

‘You didn't stay here last night did you?' asked Arianna, appalled by the thought of the risk.

‘What night was there, after all that feasting? No, I stayed in the Ram,' said Silvia. ‘Where I spoke to your young man.'

‘Which one?' said Arianna, wryly.

‘The one who is going to ask you to marry him – the one who wants Bellezza.'

‘You mean Gaetano,' said Arianna. ‘What did you say to him?'

‘I suggested he should think very hard before throwing away his old love and taking a new.'

‘Well, you don't seem to have had very much effect,' said Arianna. ‘He proposed on the way back to the palace, as dawn was breaking.'

Silvia looked at her in silence. Then said, ‘That was much too early in the day to say anything serious. What was your answer?'

‘I refused him,' said Arianna.

‘On what grounds?'

‘On the grounds that I didn't love him and I thought he loved someone else – quite good reasons, I thought.'

‘Yes, for a simple island girl, maybe,' said Silvia. ‘But you are that no longer. You know that your choice must be influenced by considerations other than feelings.'

Arianna's eyes opened wide. ‘You surely don't mean I should have accepted him? A di Chimici? He would become Duke of Bellezza and his family would never rest until he wore me down to join their Republic. And then he would become Duke indeed, not as consort, but as ruler. Bellezza would lose its independence and its traditions – all the things you fought for, for so long.'

‘Are you sure you didn't turn him down for less high-minded reasons?' asked Silvia. ‘Because you preferred to stay free for someone else?'

‘And what if I did?' said Arianna, stung by her mother's question. ‘You talk about duty and responsibility, but you married for love. You can't tell me not to do the same.'

‘I am not telling you to do or not do anything,' said Silvia. ‘Only to be clear about your reasons.'

There was a knock on the door and a servant ushered Gaetano in. He was grinning broadly and leading Francesca by the hand.

‘Excuse me, your Grace,' he said formally. ‘I did not know that you were engaged.' He glanced curiously at his interlocutor from the night before.

‘I think perhaps it is you who are engaged,' said Arianna, smiling. She held out her hands to Francesca. ‘And I think we shall get on much better now you are not a Bellezzan!'

‘Father has given us his blessing,' said Gaetano. ‘I hope you will, too.'

‘Of course,' said Arianna. ‘And I shall expect an invitation to the wedding.'

Georgia slept for six hours, from half-past eight in the evening to half-past two in the morning, when the alarm-clock she had stuffed under her pillow woke her with its muffled ring. She sat up, yawning, and stared at her unfamiliar room. She had dragged her chest of drawers across the door, to make up for the dangling lock, which had been smashed when Ralph broke the door down.

She took the winged horse from her pocket and settled back against the pillows; it was no trouble to fall back to sleep.

No one got up very early in the Ram the day after the race. Cesare felt he could sleep for a week after his imprisonment and escape and the wild finish to the Stellata, not to mention all the food and drink he had consumed at the celebrations. But the horses still needed to be seen to and the idea of breakfast was very appealing, even though it was long past his usual lunchtime.

He stumbled downstairs and found Teresa in the kitchen setting out bread and cheese and olives and fruit.

‘Where is everyone?' he asked, taking a heavy jug of ale from her and placing it on the table.

‘Your father is out in the stables,' she said, ‘with Luciano and Doctor Dethridge. The twins are playing in the yard. The Bellezzans have devised an ingenious sort of cage for them and your sisters are playing in it too – though I suspect the novelty will soon wear off in their case.'

Cesare took a slice of bread and went out into the yard. There were his half-brothers and -sisters, sitting or standing in a large wooden pen with bars too close together to allow their escape. Dethridge and Luciano were feeding them sweetmeats through the bars. As Cesare looked on, Georgia came out of the stable. She had set aside the red and yellow silks of the Ram's jockey and gone back to her ordinary Remoran boys' clothes.

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