he was on his feet, expectant as Lorenzo walked into the room.
‘Praise be to God!’ he cried, his voice husky with emotion. Tears stung his eyes and spilled unchecked as he went to embrace his son. ‘I feared I might never see you again, my son. They told us you had been shot while trying to escape in the port of Algiers.’
‘And so I was,’ Lorenzo told him, his eyes bright with devilish laughter. ‘But it seems that God must have been looking after me, for I was plucked from the sea more dead than alive by a poor fisherman and nursed back to health by that man’s good wife.’
‘We shall reward them,’ Charles said. ‘They shall never know poverty again.’
‘It is as good as done,’ Lorenzo said. He looked long and deep into his father’s face. ‘You have suffered for my sake, Father, but I shall try to cause you no more worry. Rachid is dead and I have no quarrel with his son. Hassan and I have made our peace. We shall make war on each other’s ships no more.’
‘Come, share the meal I was about to eat and tell me the whole story.’
‘Yes, of course.’ Lorenzo glanced about the room and frowned. ‘You are alone. Where is Kathryn?’
‘Her father came to Rome, looking for her. He had not received her letter telling him that you were married and was angry, I think. When the news came that you had been lost he was convinced that you were dead and insisted that she return home to England with him. Kathryn did not wish to go, Lorenzo, but she felt she must obey her father.’
Lorenzo’s eyes glinted with anger and frustration. ‘She should not have gone with him,’ he said harshly. ‘Her place was with you at this time.’
‘Do not be angry with her, my son,’ Charles pleaded. ‘I know that she grieved for you terribly. It broke her heart when she learned what had happened to you.’
‘And yet she did not wait to see if I would return.’
Lorenzo had been on fire to see Kathryn and his frustration made him harsh.
‘I told you, her father made her go.’
‘I might have expected more loyalty from my wife. She might have defied him if she had wished.’
‘I swear to you that she did not leave willingly.’
Lorenzo nodded. ‘At least you stayed, Father.’
‘I had nowhere else to go. My one hope was that you would come back to me. I prayed for it, planned for it—and it seems that my prayers have been answered. You are alive and I shall thank God for it the rest of my days.’
‘Yes, I truly believe that we have been blessed.’ Lorenzo smiled. The bitterness from the past had disappeared with his doubts about his identity. He knew himself this man’s son, remembered much of his lost youth. ‘Do you recall when we used to go hawking in the woods at Mountfitchet? Sometimes I would follow the hawks for miles and you waited for me to return. I always did in the end, though you had thought me lost.’
‘Yes, you always came back,’ Charles replied and smiled at him. ‘But you spoke confidently, as though you had remembered all?’
‘I think it may have been the blow to my head when I was captured, or perhaps that the abduction brought back memories, forcing me to face the past. Perhaps I had forgotten because I did not want to remember.’ His father nodded, understanding. ‘Memories had been coming to me in drifts for a while, but always vague, seeming like dreams. I did not know I was Richard Mountfitchet before I was captured. I suspected it might be so, but now I know for certain.’
‘I was certain in Sicily,’ Charles said and looked at him steadily. ‘I think when you were a boy I did not always show my faith and love for you, Lorenzo, but in future I intend that it shall be different. God has granted me a second chance and I shall make the most of it.’
‘We have both been lucky. I see now that I might have fared far worse than I did. Something kept me alive and perhaps that was God’s love.’
Charles nodded, but said no more—Lorenzo must find his own way back to the faith he had lost. ‘So what will you do now, my son?’
‘It was in my mind to return to England with Kathryn. I thought we should visit her father before settling in Venice. That is still my intention. My life is here now, sir. England does not have much to offer me—though it might be different if you were there. What are your own plans?’
‘As we discussed them in Sicily. I believe I shall stay here in Rome until you return, Lorenzo. I have travelled enough of late and I like it here.’
‘I shall leave my business affairs to you until I return, Father,’ Lorenzo said. ‘But before I leave I must speak to Michael about the future. If I am to make changes, I would have him with me.’
Charles hesitated, looking awkward. ‘Michael is not here. He went to England. I believe it was his intention to see Kathryn. We heard that you were shot trying to escape and I think he means to tell her that there is no hope of finding you alive.’
What he left unsaid was his conviction that Michael was in love with Kathryn and would have her for himself if he could. It could not help matters, for Lorenzo was already angry enough. He just hoped that he would not arrive too late.
‘Then I must not delay,’ Lorenzo said, a brooding expression in his eyes. He needed no telling that Michael cared for Kathryn—he had observed it himself. ‘I shall spend this evening with you and then I must sail for England.’
Chapter Twelve
Kathryn looked at herself in her hand mirror. She was wearing a gown of green silk that her father had presented her with as a gift especially for that evening. She had asked that she be allowed to wear the black velvet she had chosen for her mourning, but Sir John had given her a stern look.
‘You will not come to your brother’s betrothal wearing black. It becomes you ill, Kathryn, and would be seen as an insult by Philip’s betrothed and her family. You are a young and beautiful woman. You should make the most of your beauty, daughter.’
‘Do not forget that I am in mourning for my husband, Father.’
‘You grieve for a man by the name of Lorenzo Santorini, daughter. If Charles is right, that man does not exist. Therefore, I am not certain that your marriage was ever a true one. However, you are my daughter and as such will not disgrace me by appearing before our guests as a black crow.’
‘That is unfair!’ Kathryn cried, hurt almost beyond bearing by her father’s unkindness. Why was he being so cruel to her? Had she not enough to bear without this hurt? ‘Lorenzo married me in good faith. I was and am his true wife.’
‘You wed without my blessing and I could dispute it if I wished,’ he reminded her coldly. ‘You will oblige me by forgetting that unhappy period of your life. It is my sincere hope that you may marry again soon.’
‘I do not wish to marry.’
‘It is my wish that you shall be properly settled, Kathryn. People will whisper behind their hands about this odd marriage, but if you marry again they will be silenced. It is in my mind that a marriage shall be arranged by the end of your official period of mourning, and
