‘Say yes, Bianca,’ he said again.
Her lashes lowered, sweeping away the tears.
‘Yes…’ she said, her voice a whisper.
And then a cry, a broken sound, was wrenched from her.
‘Oh, God,yes, Luca! Yes! Because I love you so, so much. I always have and I always will, and I can’t ever not love, love,loveyou!’
He crushed her hand to his lips again, emotion filling him, and as he lowered it he slipped from his finger the signet ring he always wore. Slid it onto hers.
‘This must do until I get you back to Italy,’ he said, a crooked smile forming at his mouth.
‘I left the one you bought me at Matteo’s house,’ she said.
He shook his head. ‘Not that one. Oh, you can wear it every day, if you like, but that’s not the ring you’ll wear on our wedding day. Not that one at all. Only one ring will do for you then.’
She gave a wry laugh, looking pointedly at him. ‘A priceless heirloom for an East End girl?’
He shook his head again. ‘For the beloved of my heart,’ he said.
Another cry broke from her and he swept her into his arms. Where she would stay for ever now.
Beloved of my heart.
His own words echoed through him—as he knew they would through all the years ahead.
EPILOGUE
BIANCASTOODPOISEDat the top of the sweeping flight of stairs in Luca’spalazzo, ready to descend.
Memory was vivid in her head of how she had stepped down the long staircase at her uncle’s villa on the night of the party he had organised to celebrate what he had so fondly assumed was the celebration of his beloved niece’s engagement to his equally beloved godson. Then, she had been wearing an evening gown, chosen by her uncle, which had dismayed her by looking far too much like a wedding gown—an item of clothing she would never wear for Luca…
Or so she had thought.
As she stood now, at the top of the staircase, a wash of wonder and of radiant happiness went through her.
For today was her wedding day.
Her wedding to Luca.
The man she loved so much.
And there, waiting at the foot of the stairs, was another man she loved too.
Matteo. Looking so well—for his pioneering treatment had worked, and he was now permitted to mingle once more, hiscancer if not quite in remission, then certainly more reduced than anyone could have hoped. For now, at least. Oh, he still had to be careful, she knew. His strength was limited, and his life was still limited. But for now he had the wonderful gift not only of the present, but of a future that would surely encompass seeing her and Luca well established in their marriage.
And perhaps, too even seeing the birth of their first child. She felt hope quiver within her. She and Luca had determined that conception would be a first priority for them after their wedding.
The wedding had been organised the moment she had returned with Luca to Italy. The old proverb came into her head:Marry in haste, repent at leisure.But she dismissed it summarily. She and Luca had already done their repenting—six long years of it—and both regretted that their youthful affair had ended as it had. And they were marrying in haste only for Matteo’s sake, not wanting to keep him waiting a moment longer than was necessary.
It was taking place here, at thepalazzo, with the ceremony in the D’Alabruschi family chapel. The guests were the same as those who had come to the engagement party, plus Giuseppe and all the staff from the Villa Fiarante—she would not dream of being married without those stalwarts. And Nurse Paolo was coming too, even if he was also here to keep an eye on Matteo.
Bianca had invited Andrew and his wife, and several of her colleagues, who had all flown out for the occasion. She had arranged with Andrew that she would continue to work part-time, and remotely, as a researcher here in Italy—a compromise that would keep her career open for now. Perhaps one day, she hoped, when her Italian was sufficiently fluent, she might be able to work for an Italy-based environmental consultancy and forge links with Andrew’s?
But that was all for later. For now, she was focussing on her wedding.
As well as her colleagues, she had invited her aunt too—but had not been surprised to receive no answer. It was a sadness to her, for her aunt was all that remained of her mother’s family, but it was something that she accepted. Just as her aunt had accepted, after all, the gift of a little bungalow in the south coast seaside town where she was now living. It had been paid for by Luca, though. Not from the money Matteo had said was Tomaso’s and therefore his daughter’s.