his return.’ Michael frowned. ‘I think it is in his mind to take a trip to England, though he said his plans were not yet formed.’
‘Yes, he did speak of making changes,’ Kathryn said. ‘I think he believes that it will no longer be necessary to have so many galleys to protect his ships in future, but we must wait and see what he decides.’
‘Yes, of course. If you will excuse me now, I have other calls to make.’
‘Will you dine with me this evening?’ Kathryn asked. ‘I have invited Elizabeta, her husband, Paolo, Isabella and her father and a few others. We should be pleased to have you join us. Perhaps you could tell us more of the battle, for we hear so many conflicting stories. It would be good to hear from someone who was there.’
‘I should be delighted to do so,’ Michael said, hesitated, and then added, ‘It is in my mind that I might ask Isabella Rinaldi to marry me.’ His cheeks became slightly pink. ‘My father is most insistent that I take a wife. I have resisted it, for it would mean that I should have to change the way I lead my life. Perhaps, if Lorenzo intends to make changes, it is time I did so also.’ He looked at her oddly. ‘Do you think there is a chance that Isabella would look kindly on an offer from me?’
‘I do not know,’ Kathryn said. ‘But I think she likes you.’
He nodded and smiled. ‘Then I shall think seriously about making the offer. I shall see you this evening, Kathryn.’
‘We shall look forward to having you with us.’
Kathryn stood for a while after he had gone, a rosebud in her hand. She would be pleased if Lorenzo was serious about taking her home, for she would be glad to see her father. But she was not sure that she would wish to make her home there for she was happy here in Rome.
She had written to her father many months ago to tell him of her marriage and assure him that she was well, but there had been no reply. At first she had thought that he must be too busy to write to her or that he was perhaps angry she had married without consulting him, but now she had begun to wonder if he had received her letter. It was strange that there had been no reply of any kind.
‘It is good to see you again,’ Charles said, offering his hand to Lorenzo. ‘My sister wrote to Kathryn some weeks back, telling her that we were thinking of staying here in Sicily. We have found land we like, and a house—but I wanted your advice before I made the purchase.’
‘It is one choice,’ Lorenzo agreed. ‘I believe it might be a good idea to buy land here, and establish vineyards of your own, but I thought you might consider living in Rome or Venice. I have plans to expand my wine-growing business, and perhaps to concentrate the shipping to England, Germany and France, where I have contacts. It was in my mind to ask whether you might consider being my partner? My business is expanding and I have plans to ship wines to more countries than before—but I shall need someone I can trust to help me in this venture.’
‘Your partner?’ Charles was surprised, but enormously pleased with the idea. ‘I think I might, sir. Yes, I think I might. Had my son lived, I should have been content to sit back and let him take over my interests, but…’ He sighed and shrugged his shoulders. ‘I have reluctantly accepted that I may never see him again. And I am not sure that I would ever wish to return to England. I find the climate here suits me better. My only wish is that I might find some trace of my son.’
‘He may be nearer than you think,’ Lorenzo said, a sudden croak in his voice. ‘Would you mind answering a few questions concerning Richard?’
Charles looked at him eagerly. ‘Have you discovered something?’
‘I am not sure. It may be nothing—but did you give your son a sword on his seventh birthday and tell him that it was time he learned to be a man?’
Charles looked shocked. ‘I cannot remember if he was seven or eight—but it is true that I gave my son a sword on his birthday and I may have told him some such thing.’
‘Tell me about the house you lived in then—has it a tower and a moat? Is there a room filled with armour from past times, and did Richard like to spend hours there?’
‘Yes, all that you say is true,’ Charles said and looked at him intently. ‘Richard liked one suit of armour particularly. My father wore it at the battle of—’
‘When Henry VIII met Francis I on the Field of Cloth of Gold, and your father rode with Henry that day.’ Lorenzo’s eyes narrowed. ‘And did your son have an unusual pet—one that you did not approve of?’
‘A pet…’ Charles wrinkled his brow in thought for a moment and then laughed. ‘Good Lord, yes! I had almost forgot. He brought home a wretched fox cub and…’ His voice died away as he saw the look in Lorenzo’s eyes. ‘What happened then?’
‘He took it up to his room and fed it with food he had stolen from the kitchens, and you found out and beat him for it…’
‘I made him take it back to the woods where he found it.’
‘But he did not,’ Lorenzo said and smiled. ‘He kept it in a part of the stables and saved food from his own plate to feed it until it was old enough to be released.’
‘I never knew that.’ Charles looked at him oddly. ‘Only Richard could know all this…’
‘I have wondered if it was a dream or imagination,’ Lorenzo said. ‘But when you spoke of the special suit of armour I knew that it was true.’ His voice was hoarse with emotion. ‘Forgive me, I do not know how to say this to you. When we first met I felt an affinity that I have seldom known with another man, but I would not believe in what my heart was telling me. I thrust it from me, but the dreams started to haunt me. I cannot tell you that I am your son, for I have no proof—but I believe that it may be so.’
‘God help me!’ Charles staggered back, falling into a chair. For a moment he sat with his head in his hands, and when he looked up at last the tears were running down his cheeks. ‘I felt it too, but I did not believe it could be true.’
‘Then you believe…you would own me as your son?’ Lorenzo felt humbled, closer to tears than he had ever been in his life. ‘I can give you no proof…’
‘I think you have given me enough,’ Charles said and stood up, moving forward to embrace his son, his body shaking with the sobs of emotion he at least could not hold back. ‘Since we met it has been in my mind that if I had a son I should want him to be much like you. Indeed, though I had not made a conscious decision, I had come to think of you as my son.’
‘Then I shall do my best to make you proud of me, Father,’ Lorenzo said. ‘It does not mean that I shall honour Antonio Santorini the less, for without his love and care of me I should have died many years ago. But in my heart I do believe that you are my true father, and I hope that if we return for a visit to England with Kathryn I may recover many more memories.’
‘Then it is settled,’ Charles said. ‘We shall look at the land I thought to buy here and make our decision, and then we shall return to Rome and from thence to England.’
‘We shall make our decision about the land, but I may go on ahead while you settle things here, Father. Kathryn will be anxious. Besides, my stricken galleys will be a few days making repairs, and they will escort you. The seas are much safer for the time being, but I doubt that we have rid them of all the Corsairs who have plagued
