The Wedding Arrangement

CHAPTER THREE

TWO hours later she presented herself before the Justice of the Peace, Alfredo Fentoni, clad in the voluminous black robe of the advocate. Fentoni, who knew her, smiled benignly, addressed her as Avvocato, and they began.

Minnie had to admit that Luke was much improved. The suit spoke of sober respectability, and a shave had transformed him into something resembling an ordinary man.

But only resembling. Now that she saw him at his best, she realised how far from ordinary he was. In the cell she’d been aware of brute force. Now she was even more intensely aware of the skill with which he disguised power. That made him a cunning man as well as a forceful one, and all the more dangerous for that.

It seemed odd to be regarding him as dangerous when his fate was in her hands, but he was no longer the down-and-out she’d met that morning. In fact, that had been an illusion. The reality was this other man who strode into the court as though he owned it, and took up position in the dock with an air of impatience, as though he were doing them all a favour.

She was his advocate, and obliged to do her best for him, but the temptation to bring him down a peg was almost irresistible.

The trial began. What happened then, Minnie could only ascribe to a malignant fate, making her life as difficult as possible. By dubious means Luke had contrived to wrap himself in a halo, at least as far as Netta was concerned. Now events conspired to give that halo a new brilliance.

The four oafs from the night before were also in the dock, grinning and scowling by turns. They had their own lawyer, ready to challenge Minnie on every point, and it soon became clear that they were trying to establish themselves as innocent victims.

They were all small and wiry compared to Luke’s impressive size, and at one point their lawyer flung out a hand in his direction, inviting comparison. A sensible man would have let his shoulders sag, or at least done something, no matter how useless, to shrink himself.

Luke, to Minnie’s total exasperation, stood up straight and folded his arms in an attitude that contrived to be aggressive. She could have torn her hair.

She redoubled her efforts, concentrated all her forces, managed to trip the oafs up, made them contradict themselves and showed them up for what they were.

Everyone relished the moment when the ringleader stumbled into silence while Minnie simply spread her hands as if to say, You see! The massed ranks of Pepinos began to applaud, and were firmly shushed by Netta.

More than a lawyer, Luke thought, unwillingly impressed. A consummate artist, a force of nature.

And he was going to be her next challenge. He was beginning to enjoy the prospect.

At last Fentoni declared that he was fed up with the lot of them, and imposed hefty fines all round.

One of the oafs, incensed at this ‘injustice’, made a lunging movement at Charlie, but found himself facing Luke, who stepped in quickly and took hold of his ear. While he twisted and yowled with pain Luke raised an eyebrow in the direction of the police, as though asking what he should do with this object. An officer hastily intervened. Fentoni promptly doubled the oaf’s fine, and the session was over.

Netta beamed at Luke, then beamed some more when he insisted on paying Charlie’s fine as well as his own. Charlie’s brothers crowded round, slapping Luke on the back. Minnie groaned.

‘Netta, he is not a hero,’ she tried saying firmly. ‘Charlie would probably never have been in trouble if he hadn’t met him.’

‘You’ve quite decided that I’m to blame,’ Luke said, appearing beside her. ‘Aren’t you at least supposed to believe in your client?’

‘You are not to blame,’ Netta told him firmly. ‘Tonight we have a big party at our home, and you will be the guest of honour.’

‘You’re too kind, signora,’ Luke said impressively.

‘You’ll have no trouble finding the Residenza Gallini,’ Minnie said darkly. ‘You’ll know it by all the bits falling off the building.’

‘And if I don’t notice them, I’m sure you’ll point them out to me,’ he said smoothly.

He was about to turn away when Minnie remembered something and stopped him. ‘You need to call your mother,’ she said in a low voice. ‘She called you this morning while I was in your hotel room. I took a message.’

As she turned he stopped her with a hand on her arm. ‘You will be there tonight, won’t you?’

‘Of course I will, if only to stop you deluding my poor family any more.’

His grin jeered at her. ‘You haven’t had much luck so far.’

‘I’ll improve with practice. Don’t forget your mother,’ she said in a voice that put an end to the conversation.

He took out his cellphone, which she had returned to him earlier, switched it on and dialled. Hope answered at once.

‘Darling, I’m so sorry,’ she said. ‘I didn’t mean to be indiscreet, but I forgot it was so early.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘This morning, when I called and the phone was picked up by that young lady. She sounded charming, but of course I got off the line at once.’

It dawned on him what she was talking about.

‘No, Mamma, it’s not like that.’

‘Nonsense. When a young lady answers a man’s phone at seven in the morning it’s always “like that”.’

He looked around and found Minnie’s eyes on him. Of course she could guess every word his mother was saying. In outrage he turned his back on her.

‘Mamma, listen to me-’

‘Yes, my son,’ she said and obligingly fell silent.

That stumped him. It had been the bane of his life that he had a mother who listened. Unlike other mothers, she didn’t brush his explanations aside, thus giving him a permanent excuse-‘But Mamma, I tried to tell you-’ She simply sat there waiting, while he tied himself in knots.

Comparing notes with his brothers, he had found them all similarly afflicted. It had made growing up very hard. Now she was doing it again.

‘You’ve got the wrong idea,’ he growled.

‘I hope not. I thought she sounded very nice. There was something in her voice, a soft vibration that’s always there when a woman has a passionate nature.’

‘Mamma.’

But then she surprised him with a great burst of laughter that rang down the line.

‘Don’t be silly, Luke, I’m only joking. She was probably the chamber maid bringing you an early breakfast. I expect you were in the shower.’

‘Yes,’ he said, filled with relief.

‘It was wrong of me to tease you, but I would be pleased to think you were forgetting Olympia so soon.’

‘Olympia?’ he asked blankly. ‘Oh, yes-Olympia.’

When he hung up a few minutes later he saw Minnie regarding him with a look he chose to interpret as cynical amusement.

‘Do you mind telling me what you said to my mother?’ he demanded.

‘Very little. It was mostly of the “um-er” variety, and she needed no encouragement to think what you think she was thinking. She plainly believes that women clamour for a scrap of your attention and swoon with desolation if you don’t look their way.’

He had been going to tell her that it was Hope’s idea of a joke, but before he could do so she added, ‘This was your first night in Rome and she reckoned you’d pulled already? Who are you? Casanova?’

‘In my mother’s estimation, yes.’

‘Or did she think there was a simpler explanation, and that money came into it somewhere?’

‘No, she knows I don’t have to use money. At least, not in the sense you mean.’

‘Is there another sense?’ she demanded, aghast.

‘I have been known to buy a lady dinner and the best champagne before a night of mutual pleasure. But nothing as crude as you’re suggesting.’

Of course he wouldn’t, Minnie thought before she could stop herself. This man would never have to pay a woman to get into his bed. The thought didn’t improve her opinion of him. If anything, it added to his sins.

‘I’m sure my mother never suggested any such thing,’ he added.

‘No she was very kind and assured me that she “quite understood perfectly”. I suppressed the impulse to tell her that hell would freeze over first.’

‘First?’ he asked innocently. ‘First before what?’

She regarded him icily. ‘Before you wrap me round your little finger the way you’ve done with the others. Netta, cara.’ She turned to embrace Netta who’d appeared beside her. ‘I must be going to my office now.’

‘Then you can give Signor Cayman a lift to the Contini,’ Netta suggested quickly.

‘I don’t think-’ Minnie began.

‘But of course you can. It’s just a little way past the Via Veneto.’

‘The Via Veneto?’ Luke queried.

‘That’s where my office is,’ Minnie said. ‘I’ll give you a lift if you wish. Goodbye, Netta. I’ll see you tonight.’

Luke didn’t speak until they were on the road.

‘I thought your office was in the Residenza. That was the address on your letters.’

‘You might say I have two practices,’ Minnie said. ‘There’s my official one in the Via Veneto, and my unofficial one here in Trastevere.’

‘And the unofficial one is for friends, relatives-any of the locals likely to end up in a police cell?’ he hazarded.

‘I also act for my neighbours when they need help with a tyrannical, money-grubbing-’

‘Meaning me?’

‘No, meaning Renzo Tanzini. I fought him for ages and then he-’ She checked herself suddenly. ‘This isn’t the time.’

‘No, this is where I thank you for helping me out. Send me your bill, and Charlie’s, and I’ll settle them promptly.’

‘There’s no need for that.’

‘It’s a good chance for me to get into Netta’s good graces.’

‘Surely you’ve managed that already?’

‘And that makes you madder than anything, doesn’t it? In your ideal world she’d hate me as much as you do.’

‘I don’t hate you, Signor Cayman, I merely require fair dealings for your tenants.’

‘And you don’t think you’ll get them from me?’

‘The tone of your letters didn’t inspire hope.’

‘The tone of your letters made me think of an elderly harpy with hobnailed boots.’

She gave a wicked chuckle that he found oddly pleasing. ‘And I’ll crush you, wait and see.’

He barely heard the words. Something in her voice had alerted him and, against his will, he found himself remembering Hope’s words. ‘…a soft vibration that’s always there when a woman has a passionate nature…’

Nonsense. Hope had invented it to tease him, and the power of auto-suggestion made him hear it now. Nevertheless, he found himself trying to provoke her into a response.

‘I’m sure you’ll try.’

‘Oh, I’ll do it,’ she promised, ‘but not just yet.’

Did he imagine it, or was there a special vibration in her tone as she said the last words?

They had reached the Via Veneto and were gliding along its length.

‘Which office is yours?’ he asked.

‘Up there on the left.’

He studied it as they went past, and was impressed. He made the rest of the journey in thoughtful silence, breaking it only briefly when she dropped him at the hotel. She barely acknowledged his goodbye, speeding away in a dashing style that he couldn’t help admiring.

His phone rang. It was Olympia, the girl he’d ‘lost’ a couple of days ago. It felt like a couple of years, so much had happened.

‘Luke, are you all right?’

He stretched out on the bed. ‘Of course I am. Don’t worry about me.’

‘It’s just that you left so suddenly, and I didn’t have a chance to say goodbye-and thank you.’

Her voice was sweet and husky, and now he remembered how it could entrance him. That, too, seemed to have slipped into the past a little.

‘How’s Primo?’ he asked.

‘As grateful to you as I am for bringing us together.’

‘Don’t start painting me as a noble loser,’ he begged.

‘A noble, generous loser.’

‘Olympia, please!’

She laughed and it was charming, but his heart was safe. He hung up, feeling relaxed.

He stripped and went into the shower to scrub the police cell off. Now his thoughts were all of the coming battle, and how he should confront Signora Minerva. She had surprised him by being younger, prettier than his mental picture. Yet instinct told him that she was also more formidable and totally unpredictable.

Now he recalled something from early that morning. When Minnie had swept out of the cell on her way to his hotel, he and Charlie had been left to talk things over, and Charlie had said, ‘Minnie and my brother Gianni adored each other. She hasn’t been the same since he died.’

‘She’s a widow?’ he’d said, surprised, for there was something about her air of glowing life that hadn’t made him think of a widow.

‘Has been for four years. And it’s not for lack of offers. All the men are after her.’ He’d sighed. ‘Including me.’

‘You’re just a kid.’

‘That’s what she says. Not that it would make much difference if I weren’t. I’m not Gianni. Gianni was everything. When he died, she died.’

It had meant little at the time, but now he tried to connect that picture with the vibrant, lovely woman he’d encountered since, and it was no use. It didn’t fit. The surface denied the reality. Or maybe the other way around. How did a man tell?

Mentally he set that down on his plan of campaign. It could be very useful.

Even if he hadn’t known where the Residenza was Luke would have spotted the party from a great distance. The courtyard was glowing, lights were on all over the building and more light poured out into the street.

He was reminded of the Villa Rinucci in Naples, his home for many years now, ever since Hope, his adoptive mother, had married Toni Rinucci. It stood high on a hill, and at night its lamps could be seen for miles inland and out to sea.

He had always loved the place. Even after he’d moved out to his own apartment in Naples, he’d looked up the hill at night before going to bed, and the sight had warmed his heart.

There was a wide gulf between the luxurious villa and this down-at-heel tenement, and it was disconcerting to have the same feeling here as he found at home.

It was the lights, he told himself reasonably. Light always created the illusion of warmth and friendliness, and he wasn’t going to start being sentimental about it.

But there was also the laughter and the sound of welcoming voices, and these, too, spoke of home, so that when he entered the Residenza he was smiling.

Behind him came the taxi driver, puffing under the weight of Luke’s contribution to the party. When Netta called down to him from an upstairs window he indicated the cases of beer and wine. Cheers broke out above and the stairs shook under the pounding of feet. Several young men burst out into the courtyard, scooped up the cases and Luke with them. In moments he was upstairs, being embraced by Netta, who screamed joyfully in his ear, making him wince.

He’d met all the family briefly that morning, but now he met them again. Alessandro, Benito, Gasparo-all Charlie’s brothers-plus Netta’s brother Matteo, his wife Angelina and their five children. Netta’s husband Tomaso slapped him on the back, hailing him as a saviour, and various other uncles and aunts clamoured for his attention, until he thought the little apartment would burst at the seams.

He couldn’t see Minnie but in the crowded room it was hard to be sure, so he looked again, and then again. But there was no sign of her. He found himself curious to know how she would dress for this party.

Charlie bounded up to him, offering a drink.

‘Thanks, but I’m sticking to orange juice,’ he said. ‘I’m not taking any risks tonight.’

‘Go on, have a beer.’

‘Don’t press him, Charlie,’ said a female voice. ‘He doesn’t want to end up burdened with you again.’

It was her. How long had she been standing there? When had she come in?

She was dressed with a flamboyance that surprised him. He’d never pictured her in trousers, but there they were, dark purple, fitting snugly over her hips, topped off with a silk blouse of extravagant pink. The effect was stunning.

Her fair hair was drawn back off her face, emphasising her delicate bone structure and fair skin, and she might have been a different person from the austere advocate of the morning.

‘Thanks for coming to save me,’ he said.

She laughed directly into his face. At five foot four inches she had to look up to him, but she still gave an impression of looking him in the eye, he realised.

‘I reckon two doses of Charlie in one day is more than the strongest man should be asked to bear,’ she said. ‘Let me get you an orange juice.’

She fetched it, then had to turn to look after another guest. He watched her, unwillingly impressed by her neat, shapely figure. It was hard to reconcile this flaming creature with the woman Charlie had described, who’d died with her husband. There was something there he couldn’t work out, something mysterious and intriguing.

The room was filling up as more guests arrived. Some of them gave him curious looks, and he guessed the news of his identity had gone around. He became lost in a maze of introductions. Every girl there wanted to flirt with him, and when someone put on some music there was dancing.

In such a small place it seemed impossible that anyone could dance, but they managed it. Luke plunged in with every sign of enjoyment, although he was actually growing tired after so long without sleep. But not for the world would he pass up the chance to win over his tenants, thus making them easier to deal with and, incidentally, giving himself the great pleasure of making Signora Minerva nervous.

At last he had a free moment just as Minnie was passing.

‘You can’t just go like that,’ he said, grasping her hand. ‘You and I have to dance with each other.’

‘Have to?’

‘Of course. When two countries are at war it’s customary to mark a truce by having the two heads of state dance together.’

‘I believe that only happens when the war’s actually over.’

‘Then we’ll set a precedent,’ he said, putting an arm about her waist.

Minnie might have demurred longer, but someone collided with her, pushing her closer to him.

‘Very well,’ she said. ‘Just for the look of the thing.’

‘You’re all graciousness.’

Glancing up, she found him regarding her with a look that was half irony and half an invitation to share the joke. Drat him, she thought, for having a kind of fierce attractiveness that could get under her guard, even if just for a moment.

‘How are you feeling now?’ she asked.

‘More human. A lot poorer.’

‘You wait until you see my bill. That really will make you feel poor.’

‘And Charlie’s,’ he reminded her.

‘You don’t think I’d charge Charlie, do you? He’s my brother-in-law.’

He shook his head in despair for her.

‘Why did you tell me that? You should have charged me over the odds for him and put the money into a fund for repairs.’

‘Yes, I don’t make much of a schemer, do I?’ she agreed ruefully.

‘You prefer to confront the foe full-on, rather than plot behind his back. Brave but foolhardy.’

‘Plotting isn’t my style. Besides, I’ve slain a good few foes in my time.’

‘Is that a threat or a challenge?’

‘Work it out.’

Minnie wished the room were a little less crowded so that she wasn’t crushed so hard against his body. She’d seen that every woman in the place admired him, and there was something in that consciousness that infiltrated her own, so that she could understand their feelings, while assuring herself that she was safe from sharing them.

But she would have felt safer still if she could have danced a few inches away. The room was hotter than she’d realised, and it was getting harder to breathe.

As soon as she could she excused herself. ‘I must go and help Netta. Enjoy the party.’

He nodded and let her go. He was beginning to be very conscious that he’d spent the previous night in a police cell, wide awake.

He’d meant to catch up on his sleep at the hotel that afternoon, but he’d become involved in business phone calls and in the end there had only been time for a cold shower. Now he knew it hadn’t been enough. His eyes insisted on closing, no matter how hard he fought to keep them open.

At last, taking advantage of the crowd, he slipped out of the door and found himself by the railing that over-looked the courtyard. Too public. Where could he find a little privacy?

He discovered a small corridor that went through the building, connecting the staircase to the outer apartments that overlooked the road. It was deserted and he sank down to the ground, thankful for a place where a man could rest his head in peace.

He’d return to the party soon, but, just for a few minutes, he would close his eyes…a few minutes…a few…