the night before, Gemma didn’t get much sleep. The next morning she showered early and put on the one black dress she had in her wardrobe. It had capped sleeves and a slim skirt. Nothing fancy, but she felt it was appropriate.
Her friend had gotten busy in the kitchen and fixed them a delicious breakfast. When Dimi came for her, she didn’t know who looked more surprised, him or Filippa.
It was very interesting to feel the aura that surrounded two stunned, beautiful people before Gemma introduced them. Dimi wore a black mourning suit. Filippa had put on a summer dress in a small blue-and-white print, bringing out the intensity of her blue eyes.
When Gemma explained why Filippa was there, he turned to her friend. “Please come with us so Gemma doesn’t have to sit alone.”
“I don’t want to intrude in such a private matter.”
“You’re her best friend. We have no secrets and it’s no intrusion. If you’re ready, let’s go.”
They walked out to the black limousine with the insignia and coat of arms of the Duca di Lombardi. When they got in the back, Dimi placed himself across from them with his long legs crossed at the ankles. All the way to the palazzo, Gemma sat there in wonder as he and Filippa talked quietly, sharing small confidences so naturally, it surprised her.
By the time they reached their destination, Gemma was convinced something of consequence was happening between them. Dimi’s eyes never left her face. As for Filippa, her expression had to have mimicked Gemma’s the first time she’d seen the dashing, grown-up Vincenzo in the office at the castello. If any man ran a close second to Vincenzo, it was his cousin.
He led them inside his mother’s bedroom. A health care worker sat beside the bed. Dimi showed the two of them to comfortable upholstered chairs in a corner of the room. He made arrangements for food and drinks to be brought to the small table if they wanted them.
Gemma squeezed his hand. “God bless you today, Dimi.”
He kissed her cheek. “Thank you for doing this.” His eyes swerved to Filippa. The look he gave her friend was a revelation. “Thank you for coming with her. I won’t be long.”
* * *
A cloudy sky above the opening in the forest didn’t allow the sunlight to shine on the casket. Vincenzo and Dimi stood side by side holding long-stemmed yellow roses while Father Janos delivered the funeral prayer.
“Here we have gathered in memory of Alonzo Trussardi Gagliardi, second in line to the Duca di Lombardi, so that we may together perform one final duty of love. As an act of remembrance, we have gathered to place his remains here in this sacred resting spot. In so doing, we trust that somehow what was best in his life will not be lost, but will rejoin the great web of creation.
“May the truth that sets us free, and the hope that never dies, and the love that casts out fear be with us now until dayspring breaks and the shadows flee away. We have been blessed by life—go in peace. Amen.” He made the sign of the cross.
Dimi placed his rose on the casket, then Vincenzo. They both thanked the priest and had just started to walk away when Dimi said, “Let’s go over to your father’s grave before we drive back to the palazzo.” He pulled two more long-stemmed roses from a planter vase for them.
Vincenzo hadn’t visited it since he’d been back in Italy. He hadn’t ever planned to take a last look, but something fundamental had changed in him since he’d been with Gemma. All their long talks about the past had forced him to delve deep inside himself for the first time in ten years. Perhaps it was time.
His father’s grave was behind a nearby tree. They looked at the writing on the headstone. Was it possible that all the evil had been buried with him and hadn’t been handed down to Vincenzo? He wanted to believe it. He wanted to believe Gemma, whose soul had been in her eyes when she’d begged him to keep the title and do great things with it. If he thought he could...
Dimi turned to him. “Gemma gave me a piece of advice earlier.”
Gemma again, Vincenzo mused. She’d had a profound effect on both of them.
“She said not to let our fathers’ misdeeds stain our lives. Though my father was never the duca, he’d always hoped to be one day. But no matter what, being the offspring of the old duca didn’t make him or your father who they were. It was a flaw in them. She was right, you know?”
With those words he placed his rose at the base of the stone. Clearly Dimi had forgiven both their fathers.
Gemma had forgiven them, too. She’d seen the example of the old duca and she believed in Vincenzo. That belief caused an epiphany in him.
As he stood there, he realized his faith in himself had been restored. Stunned and humbled, he put his own rose by the headstone. Then they walked back to the limousine. Vincenzo had come to the cemetery in his car parked behind the limo.
“I’ll follow you to the palazzo, Dimi. I don’t want you to be alone today.”
His cousin eyed him oddly. “I won’t be. Gemma and her friend are there. I picked them up early this morning so they could sit with Mamma.”
Vincenzo reeled from the news. “What friend?”
“Filippa. I’m sure she’s told you about her.”
“Yes, but I thought she was in Canada interviewing for a pastry chef position.”
“It seems it didn’t work out and she came back last evening.”
“A lot has gone on since I dropped Gemma off yesterday.”
Dimi nodded. “I told you we talked while you were with Mamma. Something she said, plus what Father Janos said today, has decided me against renouncing the title.”
Vincenzo knew the line he was talking about. It had struck a chord with Vincenzo, too.
“Remember the part, ‘We trust that somehow what was best in his life will not be lost, but will rejoin the great web of creation’? Gemma convinced me there’s a lot you and I can do if we keep our titles to create something really good to repair the damage. In my soul I know she’s right.” He opened the rear door. “I’ll see you back at the palazzo, cousin.”
Vincenzo stood there for a few minutes pondering everything. Little did Dimi know he’d been preaching to the converted. In time he broke free of his thoughts long enough to jump in his car. He took off behind Dimi, intending to talk to Gemma as soon as possible.
Dimi was waiting for him in the courtyard when he pulled in. “Have you ever met Gemma’s friend?” Dimi asked as they went inside.
Vincenzo hadn’t expected that question. His cousin’s decision not to renounce his title had been superseded by something else—like the fact that Dimi had a woman on his mind when they’d just laid his uncle to rest.
“Not yet.”
Once they entered the palazzo, he followed him through the house to his aunt’s bedroom. There he found Gemma and her friend talking quietly to one of the health care workers.
The older woman said Consolata had been resting comfortably
