The Mermaid Garden (44 page)

Floriana behind and bereft.

She didn’t discuss it with Beppe. As far as he was concerned their

romance was nothing more than one of the many flings Dante would

enjoy in his life, before he settled down with an appropriate spouse. It didn’t surprise him, nor did it interest him.

Not everyone was as heartless as Beppe. Father Ascanio anticipated

the catastrophe hovering in the wings, awaiting its cue to swoop and

destroy, and decided to speak to Floriana when she came in to light her daily candle.

Floriana had great respect for Father Ascanio, whom she had known

for as long as she could remember. She also held him in awe, being the

most senior man in Herba and the closest to God. When he said he

wished to speak to her, she immediately felt guilty and tried to work

out what she had done wrong as she followed him into a little side cha-

pel, where they could talk in private.

“You look fearful, Floriana,” he said, sitting down on one of the

wooden chairs arranged in front of the altar.

“I feel I must have transgressed for you to need to speak to me like

this.”

His kind old face crinkled indulgently. “You’re not a child any longer, Floriana. The days when you used to leap off cliffs and skip your classes are far behind you. You’re a God-fearing young woman about to be

sixteen, and I’m proud of you.”

“So, I’ve done nothing wrong?”

“Nothing at all.”

“Then why do you need to see me, Father?”

He hesitated and silently asked God for guidance; young love was

something he knew nothing about. Flaring his nostrils, he inhaled

deeply then plunged into the cold pool of reason. “My dear child, in the absence of a mother to guide you as you teeter on the brink of womanhood, I feel it’s up to me, as Father of this parish, to give you some fatherly advice.”

Floriana’s heart contracted with dread, for she knew at once that it

must be about Dante. Father Ascanio registered her apprehension and

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took her hand in his large, doughy one. “I know that you and Dante

Bonfanti enjoy a deep friendship.”

“Yes, Father.”

“But I feel I would not be doing my duty, as God bids me, if I did not

speak to you about the impossibility of it.”

“Impossibility?”

Father Ascanio frantically searched within himself for strength as

Floriana’s eyes welled with tears, which spilled over onto ashen cheeks.

“He will return to Milan in September to work for his father, and

your life will return to the way it was. You are so very young, my dear, and he is now twenty-three, a man . . .” His voice trailed off as Floriana’s heart broke right in front of him. “I’m sorry to have to tell you this, but I want to spare you the hurt by opening your eyes to the truth.”

“But Father, Dante loves me.”

“I’m sure he does. But do you really think he’ll get his father’s blessing to marry you?” Floriana lowered her gaze to the stone floor, de-

feated. “You are from very different worlds, my child. This is a beautiful love story for you to treasure, but you will move on and settle down

with someone from your own class. Dante Bonfanti is not for you.”

The sight of her crumpling with sorrow like an autumn leaf was too

much for Father Ascanio. “I shall leave you here to compose yourself,”

he said gently, patting her hand.

“But I love him, Father.”

“Sometimes love isn’t enough, Floriana.”

“But Jesus—”

He lowered his voice. “You are right, Jesus taught us to love our

neighbors as ourselves, but unfortunately Beppe Bonfanti hasn’t yet

learned that lesson.”

Floriana remained alone in the little chapel. She buried her face in

her hands and tried to feel God’s presence, but she felt nothing other

than her wet cheeks and leaden heart. Was it really impossible for them to be together? Could something as trivial as wealth keep them apart?

For a moment she felt defeated. Beppe Bonfanti rose up before her

like a giant, his dark and powerful figure standing firmly between her

and the man she loved. Father Ascanio’s kindly face floated in front

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Santa Montefiore

of her eyes, shaking his gray head helplessly. It seemed everyone was

against her. But then the gentle countenance of Violetta shone through

the dark and smiled at her with motherly love. Surely,
she
would give them her blessing? Perhaps she could even persuade her husband to

give his?

Clinging onto this small flicker of hope, Floriana dried her eyes on

her skirt. It wasn’t fair that she bear this misery alone. She would tell Dante what Father Ascanio had said, and he would reassure her and

kiss away her fears. Everything would be all right; she just knew it. Father Ascanio was doing what he thought was right, but he was ignorant

of the circumstances. He was unaware of the strength of the love they

felt for each other. Her spirits lifted once more as she reasoned with

herself; her heart had survived against all odds, she wasn’t about to let Beppe Bonfanti crush it now. If Father Ascanio had taught her anything, it was that all human beings were equal in God’s eyes—she was

as precious as everyone else.

It was dusk when she reached La Magdalena. Good-Night rushed

up the drive to greet her as the big iron gates opened to let her in.

Trembling, she bent down to stroke him, burying her face a while in

his fur, composing herself as her fears now reared up to overthrow her

again. She wandered up the avenue of cypress trees, where she had

walked with Dante for the first time as a little girl. But she was too

anxious to savor the smells of the garden, as they lingered seductively in the evening air.

Dante, who had been waiting for her, ran out of the house to meet

her. When he saw her stricken face, he gathered her into his arms.

“What’s happened?” he asked.

Defeated by the strength of his concern, Floriana collapsed into

sobs. She was too distraught to speak.

“Come, let’s go somewhere we can talk in private.” He led her

through the trees and sat down beneath a tall umbrella pine. “Is it your father?”

Floriana shook her head. “I wish it was!”

“Then what is it?”

“Father Ascanio warned me that we have no future together.”

Dante was appalled. “He warned you
what
?”

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“That we come from such different worlds, and I am so young, that

it will end in September . . .”

“What does he know?” Dante was furious, which made Floriana feel

a lot better.

“He said your father would never give us his blessing.”

Dante held her upper arms and looked deep into her eyes. “Listen

to me, Floriana. No one is going to tear us apart. Do you understand?

I love you. I’ll never love anyone else, ever. You leave my father to me.

Don’t listen to Father Ascanio. He’s never been in love, so what does he know?” Floriana smiled and wiped her eyes with the back of her hand.

“There, that’s better. If he wasn’t a priest, I’d go and have it out with him in the square for meddling in what does not concern him.”

“He was only doing what he believed was right.”

“The world has changed. I can’t believe he thinks two people can’t be

together because of their class. He’s an old fossil. Trust me, Floriana.

You and I have a beautiful future together. So what if you’re young?

You’ll grow up. It’s nearly your birthday.”

“The fourteenth of August.”

“How shall we celebrate?”

“I don’t care.”

“
I
do.” He got to his feet and pulled her up by the hand. “Come on.

We’re getting out of here. I don’t want to see you sad again.”

“I’m better now.”

“Good. Don’t ever suffer alone, Floriana. Always come to me, be-

cause I’ll be here for you. Do you understand?” She nodded. “Now,

where’s Good-Night? He’ll be very cross if we leave him behind.”

Floriana believed Dante when he said that they would always be

together. If he loved her, then nothing could stand in their way, because Dante was the master of his own destiny. She pushed her fears to the

back of her mind where they lay in shadow for the time being, ignored.

The sands of summer slowly seeped away with each hour, and

Floriana and Dante spent as much time together as they could. When

she met Costanza at La Magdalena, they’d sit and chat, and Floriana

would share the details of her romance, which delighted Costanza, not

least because she knew how much it would annoy her mother, were she

to find out.

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Costanza had won a few admirers of her own. There was tall, dark,

brooding Eduardo from Rome; fair, blue-eyed Alessandro from Milan;

and handsome Eugenio from Venice. But no one was quite good

enough for the countess. She had her eye on the biggest prize of all.

Because of this, Costanza couldn’t help but divulge the truth to her

mother, although she knew that in so doing, she would put her friend’s

romance at risk.

They were in the back of the car, returning home from a lunch party

where Eugenio had taken Costanza into a corner and talked to her for

most of the afternoon. Costanza rather liked Eugenio. He was quiet

and intellectual, with a sweet smile. His family were well known and

established, living in a beautiful palazzo in the center of Venice. But this did not seem enough for the countess.

“Mother, I’m very young,” Costanza said. “I have years ahead to meet

the man I’m going to marry. Can’t I just have some fun like Floriana?”

The countess flinched at the mention of Floriana. “How is
she
having any fun?”

“Because she is in love with Dante.”

“Really, that’s absurd.” The countess laughed scornfully.

“Actually, you’re wrong. He’s in love with her, too.”

“You can’t be serious?”

“I am very serious. They’ve been seeing each other all summer.”

“But she’s a child.”

“He’ll wait and marry her when she’s older.”

The countess gnawed at her thumbnail. “I’d have thought a young

man like Dante would go for something a little more sophisticated

than a local stray.”

“She’s pretty and funny. I’m not at all surprised that he loves her;

everyone loves her but you.”

The countess was stunned by the aggression in her daughter’s voice.

She had never dared speak out like this before. But the countess was

a shrewd woman. She knew that fighting with Costanza would only

push her away.

“Darling, I know she’s pretty and funny, and you’re wrong about me

disliking her. I’m only protecting you, as any mother would do in the

same circumstances. Look what fun you’ve had with Giovanna this

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summer. Do you think you would have enjoyed all those parties if you

were still attached to Floriana? I don’t think so. You and Giovanna

share a deep bond because you have so much in common. You have

nothing in common with Floriana anymore, except memories, which

you must treasure because they’re special. But you must also be savvy

enough to look forward to your future. I like Eugenio very much. He’s a delightfully charming young man and a nice escort for you. If you want

to be friends with him, you have my blessing. I only want your happi-

ness.” She took Costanza’s hand. “And I only want you to have what

you deserve and nothing less.”

Costanza was suitably wooed. “I know, Mamma, and I’m grateful.”

“I’m old now, I don’t have to think about myself. I wake up every

morning and think, what can I do for Costanza today?”

“You’re very unselfish.”

“That’s what motherhood is all about: putting one’s children above

oneself. So, this romance between Floriana and Dante—is it really that

serious?”

“Well, they are joined at the hip. They spend every available moment

together.”

“And what do Beppe and Violetta think about it?”

“Giovanna says that her mother loves Floriana very much, as a

daughter even, but that her father barely notices her.”

“Beppe would never allow his son to marry a girl like Floriana.”

“Perhaps they’ll elope.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Dante isn’t going to throw his inheritance

away.”

“Giovanna says her brother is besotted.”

“Besotted he may be, but if his father is against the union, which

I have no doubt he will be, then their plans are thwarted before they’ve even begun.”

“Poor Floriana,” Costanza sighed.

“It’s a beautiful love story, but it has an unhappy ending, as the best love stories do. She’ll get over it. She’s a strong girl. I suspect she’ll end up marrying someone in Herba and forgetting all about Dante. Really,

it was a hopeless dream from the very beginning.”

“Can’t she go and live in Milan?”

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“And do what? Stay with whom? Of course she can’t. I imagine that

Dante will come to his senses once he is back in his world. Can you