Vintage Love (92 page)

She was stunned by this unexpected behavior on his part and, when she was able, pushed him away from her. In a taut voice, she exclaimed, “Really!”

The moment she spoke the young man’s happy expression changed and he looked badly upset. He said, “What have I done? I took you for Irma!”

She could not help smiling a little. “Well, I’m not Irma, whatever you thought!”

He put a hand to his temple in lamentation. “But, of course, I recognize that now. As soon as you spoke I knew my mistake. You have to be the sister, Della!”

“I am,” she said.

He stared at her. “But the likeness is striking. I find it hard to believe!”

“We are twins.”

“I’m most terribly sorry!”

“You needn’t be,” she said mildly. “You are, I’m sure, Prince Raphael.”

“Please,” he begged her. “My name is Frederico. I would prefer that since I am to be your brother-in-law.”

She said, “I fear I haven’t yet met the bride-to-be.”

He frowned. “I was positive she would be here. I thought you were she.”

“Yes,” she said, realizing that as an aftermath of his warm greeting she was still blushing.

“Wait until I tell her what happened,” he said. “It is incredible. You even wear your hair the same way!”

She laughed shyly. “That, I fear, is purely a consequence of following the current style. It wasn’t intended.”

The Prince had a warm smile which he used often to reveal perfect white teeth against his olive skin. He said, “Irma is always in fashion! And she has hair just a shade darker than yours. Your relationship is obvious.”

“I was disappointed not to meet her when I arrived.”

He frowned. “She was to be here. The old Prince made her promise.”

“She broke her promise.”

“So it would seem,” the young man in the white tie and tails said. “You did not make the journey alone?”

“No. My aunt came with me and so did my lawyer.” She hesitated slightly and then added, “He also happens to be the man I plan to marry.”

Prince Raphael arched an eyebrow. “How fortunate for him to be able to join you on the trip.”

“I consider it lucky for me,” she said.

“But, of course,” the handsome young man said with another of his smiles. “And who better to take care of you in this baffling matter.”

She said, “You think it baffling?”

“It has to be,” he said, spreading his hands. “The finding of a sister after so long a time. The testing and the checking of credentials. Surely you would not have wished to approach such a task alone?”

“You are right,” she said. “I could not have come on my own.”

“But there will be no problem,” Prince Raphael assured her. “The old man is a person of great honesty and he has brought up Irma as his own beloved daughter. She has even enjoyed the title of Princess.”

“I know,” she said. “I have no fears about him.”

Prince Raphael’s alert black eyes met hers as he asked, “So, what are your concerns?”

“What about Irma?”

A shadow of embarrassment crossed his aristocratic face. “You cannot expect me to criticize my betrothed!”

She still met his eyes with a firm glance of her own. “Prince Sanzio tells me that her absence today is only too typical. That she has caused him many worries.”

He looked down. “It is probably true,” he said in a low voice.

“He places most of the blame on a man named Count Barsini,” Della went on. “I’m sure you know him.”

“Too well!” the Prince said bitterly.

“He thinks she is with him this evening.”

“I know,” he said worriedly. “I’m aware of what is going on. And to a degree, I blame myself since she first met Barsini through me.”

“Why did you introduce them?”

He shrugged. “It was a courtesy that could not be avoided. We were fellow guests at a party. I had no choice.”

“And you had no idea what would develop?”

“I gave Irma credit for better sense than to become involved with one of his reputation,” the young man said with anger.

“Have you postponed your marriage because of it?”

He shook his head. “Irma put the date off. She cannot seem to make up her mind about anything lately.”

“Except seeing this Count Barsini,” Della said with meaning.

“That is about the sum of it.”

She eyed him sharply. “I think you should show better authority over her. She is your fiancée. So her actions must reflect on you.”

“I have tried,” he said. “Believe me I have talked to her.”

“Apparently without much result.”

“That is right,” he said.

“Is Barsini truly a Satanist as Prince Sanzio fears?”

Prince Raphael looked uneasy. “Did the old man tell you that?”

“Yes. He said it is the gossip of Rome that Count Barsini holds court to a group of Satanists.”

“It may be true,” the young man said with a grim look. “I cannot prove it. But he has dealt in every sort of debauchery.”

“Has he ever indulged in criminal activity? Theft, for instance?”

Prince Raphael looked shocked. “Why do you ask that?”

“I’m trying to find out what depths of evil he is capable of,” she said.

“Barsini is a rich man!” the young man protested. “Why should he steal?”

She smiled grimly. “Men steal for more reasons than gain. It would appear he is a thrill-seeker. What greater thrill than to steal a fabulous treasure?”

The dark handsome man gazed with new interest. “You are a remarkable young woman!”

“You have not answered my question?”

“How can I?” he said. “I do not know the answer. Try Irma. She is much closer to him than I have ever been.”

“I shall,” she said.

Their conversation was interrupted by the arrival of Henry and her aunt. She introduced them to the friendly young Prince. They were all in a group talking when Prince Sanzio appeared in his wheelchair from the other end of the room. She saw at once that he had changed to evening dress. And she was thankful that Henry had decided to bring his along. It seemed that dinner was a formal occasion in the palace.

Prince Sanzio wheeled himself up to join them and gave Prince Raphael a special greeting. “I am happy you are here,” he told the young man. “But where is my daughter?”

Prince Raphael shrugged. “I regret I do not know.”

“May I add that I also regret it, most sincerely,” the old man said with irony. “Well, we shall have to make do without her. I shall lead the way to the dining room.”

He went at the head of their group with Della at his side chatting with him. The dining room was on the other side of the huge reception hall and by candlelight looked less shabby than the rest of the house. The candelabra on the table gave the room a rich warmth which was enhanced by the gleaming white cloth, the rows of fine china, silver and cut glass.

Prince Sanzio wheeled his chair to the head of the table and placed Della on his right and Aunt Isobel on his left. Prince Raphael sat next to Della and Henry sat across the table with her aunt. It was an arrangement for good conversation and she assumed that had her sister been there she would have been seated on the other side of Henry.

Aunt Isobel showed a thin smile as little Guido entered in waiter’s uniform to serve them solemnly. The little man was barely the height of the table but he managed well with the various courses from soup, to fish, to grouse and then the flaming desert which he wheeled in on a tray.

Prince Sanzio proved a brilliant table partner. He gave a great deal of attention to Della, saying “You must get to know this old city.”

“I want to,” she told him. “Rome has always been a magic word for me.”

“People call it the Eternal City, you know,” the old man said with a wry smile. “Yet in no other city does a visitor see more tangible and tragic evidence of the fragility of human creation.”

“You are thinking of the many ruins, I suppose?” Aunt Isobel ventured.

“In a sense,” the old man said. “In the heart of this city you can lose your way among ruined temples. Grass grows on the Via Sacra along which princes rode in celebration of great victories. All that remains of that glory are traces on the ground, truncated columns, inscriptions on stone worn away by the centuries.”

Henry spoke up: “It is because this was such an early seat of civilization.”

Prince Sanzio smiled bitterly. “Civilization! A much-abused word! Has man ever been truly civilized?”

“We Romans pride ourselves on our culture,” the young Prince Raphael contributed.

The old man gave him a withering look. “Is that why some of our titled young people are turning to Satanism?”

Prince Raphael’s face crimsoned and he stared down at his plate. Della entered the discussion to ease the tension, saying, “Perhaps when people refer to the eternity of Rome they are thinking of its perpetual rebirth. The city is made up of ruins as life is made up of its dead, it rises from death to new life. After ancient Rome came the Rome of Christianity, and then the Renaissance, and now the new Rome of today.”

Prince Sanzio’s wrinkled face showed approval. “You speak wisely. Only in Rome have the centuries not been erased. Here poverty and pomp exist side by side. Nothing lasts but nothing dies! History is not abstract, it is present!”

“You love your city,” Della said with a warm smile. “And that is good. I’m sure every English person has a special affection for London.”

“And the Queen!” Aunt Isobel said emotionally.

Prince Raphael raised his glass and stood, “A toast to the Queen! And to our English guests!”

The toast was drunk and the mood at the table became most amiable as the long dinner continued. At the end the men remained at the table to enjoy their brandy while Della and Aunt Isobel went to repair their makeup before joining the gentlemen later in the living room.

As soon as they were away from the dining room Aunt Isobel touched Della on the arm and complained, “I don’t like the way this is shaping up! Not at all! Where is the girl?”

“I hope she will soon arrive,” Della replied, wishing to placate the older woman. Though the situation was also distressing to her.

Aunt Isobel said, “Something is wrong!”

“According to the Prince she has fallen in with bad company and has been misbehaving,” she said.

“She should have been here to greet you!”

“I know.”

“I think she’s a fake and afraid to meet us,” Aunt Isobel decided.

“We can’t jump to conclusions until we know more,” Della warned the older woman.

Aunt Isobel sat down dejectedly on the end of a divan. “They are pretending! They don’t really like us! I can tell!”

“I’m sure I don’t know how,” Della argued. “I think we’re being treated well. Prince Sanzio couldn’t be more hospitable and Prince Raphael is charming.”

“All false front!” was her aunt’s emphatic reaction.

When the men rejoined them a little later the talk turned to the Vatican. Prince Sanzio said, “You must all spend some time exploring the Papal State. You will be well rewarded.”

“It is one of the memorable sights of Rome,” Prince Raphael agreed.

“Even though our sons and daughters no longer have love or respect for the Church,” the old man said severely.

“I’m excited about St. Peter’s and the square!” Henry said.

“It has majesty and beauty,” Prince Sanzio said. “The four rows of columns from the basilica opening are all-embracing. In the center is the red granite obelisk which Caligua imported from Heliopolis and Nero later placed in the Circus Maximus. On each side stand two fountains, their spouting water the mobile and fluid element in what is a symphony of stone!”

Prince Raphael took Della slightly aside as they stood together with their wineglasses in their hands. In a low voice, he said, “I’m weary of this endless talk. May I show you the gardens by moonlight.”

There was a twinkle in her green eyes. “I think I could do with some air.”

They left the living room quietly and went outdoors by a side entrance. Descending several broad marble steps they entered a garden whose perfumed aroma filled the night. On either side of the flower beds and walks there were rows of straight, sentinel-like dark green trees. A full moon shone down to light the area.

“Magnificent!” she said.

The man at her side shrugged. “It is nothing to what it once was. Would you believe it is maintained by a single gardener?”

“He must work from dawn to dusk!”

“Probably he does. Some simple fellow who has great affection for the old Prince.”

She looked up at him sharply. “You sound as if you think that wrong?”

“It is outdated.”

“I can’t wish to believe that loyalty, respect and affection will ever be dated,” she said.

Prince Raphael laughed lightly. “You are a creature of sentimentality. I thought only we Italians ran to such sentiment, that the English are cold and prudish.”

“Prudish perhaps,” she said teasingly, “but never cold!”

They strolled along the walk and he said, “You must be sick of my friend Prince Sanzio raving on about the glory of Rome.”

“I enjoyed it.”

“He was a poor imitation of a tour guide!”

“Don’t say such things,” she pleaded. “Or I shall think less of you.”

They had come to the end of the walk and now he halted to ask her, “That brings me to the point of asking you what your opinion you hold of me.”

She smiled and considered. “I think you have a great deal of charm but I fear that it is in danger of being spoiled by your cynicism.”

“To think is to be a cynic!”

“It depends on one’s viewpoint,” Della told him. “Henry is much duller than you. But he shows enthusiasm at times and that livens him. You heard him going on about St. Peter’s and the square.”

“I grew up playing in the square. Why should it mean anything to me?” he asked.

“I’m sorry you have become blind to beauty and history,” she said.

“And I may think you naïve about Rome.”

“Do so, I don’t mind,” she said, starting to stroll back and beginning to think the garden interlude might turn out to be a mistake.

Prince Raphael said, “It is too bad about Irma. Her absence naturally has upset you.”

“I’m sure it has upset us all,” she said.