It was past nine o’clock and Carina’s hair was wet from the bath when she went out onto the veranda. She had arrived home at midday and survived the afternoon without breaking down. Now, everyone had gone and she was alone. There was an ocean of tears inside her, but if she started to cry she might never stop. I won’t let Ben destroy me, she thought. I must find the courage to live my life without him.
With all the will of her strong character, Carina told herself it was over between her and Ben and reached for the carafe. She poured a generous quantity of wine into her glass and gulped it down. Pietro had left an oil lamp on the table and she placed it on the floor to prevent it attracting mosquitoes. There was a rumbling of thunder in the distance and an electric storm was on its way. Soon it would burst over the city and cool the sweltering streets. How she longed for rain to wash away her misery!
She had not eaten all day and Carina picked at the food Nella had left before she pushed the plate aside and helped herself to more wine. Behind her, the house lay dark and still. It was stiflingly hot and she must open the door to her bedroom to let in some air. She felt giddy as she stood up and walked unsteadily along the veranda. She wasn’t drunk – just a little off balance – but she forgot the lamp was on the floor and stumbled over it on the way back. Crouching down, she set it on the table and fumbled around until she found the tinderbox. She dropped the first match, but her second attempt was more successful – the flame caught light.
Carina picked up the decanter and was surprised to find it almost empty. The wine eased the pain in her heart and she needed a little more to help her sleep. Just one more glass would be enough. Leaning back in the chair, she hitched her nightgown up to her knees and stretched out her legs. There was a bird caught in the creeper on the balustrade and she could hear it rustling the leaves. She should get a stick and set it free – but there were flashes of lightening over the sea and the storm almost here. First she must clear away her supper.
The tray was so heavy Carina had to brace her arms to lift it and she would have to come back for the lamp. She was about to go in when she heard the crack of a branch near the steps, followed by the sound of breaking glass as the decanter tipped off the tray onto the ground.
Pietro had locked the gates hours ago and no one could be in the garden! One of Gino’s dogs must have escaped the kennels and was prowling around looking for scraps. Still holding the tray, Carina stood barefoot amidst the shattered glass, her eyes fixed on the darkness at the top of the steps. There was a shadowy movement and then the head and shoulders of a man emerged.
‘You!’ Carina stared at Ben before the fright he had given her detonated a reaction. ‘What the devil do you think you’re doing?’
‘The front door was bolted and no one answered the bell. I was obliged to scale the wall.’
Ben walked over to her and took the tray from her. Placing it on the table, he hunkered down and picked up the shards of glass, depositing them in a pile on the tray. He rubbed his hands to shake off the dust and Carina wondered why he took the trouble.
‘I didn’t mean to frighten you. I apologise—’
‘If you had any manners, you’d have gone away. As it is, you’re not welcome.’
‘Calm yourself, Carina.’
There was a note of command in his voice, but Carina had seen a fruit knife on the tray. She grasped hold of it, waving it in front of his face.
‘You’re trespassing on private property. I don’t want you here. Go away!’
‘If you send me away, you’ll miss what I have to say. I’ve an important message from General Garibaldi.’
‘That’s not true. You’re lying—’
‘Have I ever lied to you?’
Of course he had, so many times she had lost count. Her brain wasn’t functioning properly and she wished she had drunk less wine. It crossed her mind that Ben might have intercepted Greta at headquarters and prevented her speaking to Garibaldi. What if he had? She would speak to the general herself and Ben couldn’t stop her! There was something that was different about his appearance. For a moment Carina couldn’t place what it was – and then saw he was wearing the jacket of a cavalry officer.
‘Did you steal yourself a new uniform? I can’t say I like it.’
‘I’ve been given command of a cavalry regiment.’
‘Why? For courting favour with Garibaldi’s concubine?’
‘I didn’t come here to trade insults. Do you want the general’s message or not?’
Carina put one hand on the back of a chair to steady herself. There was a jug of water on the table and she put down the knife, concentrating hard as she filled a glass. She drank to the last drop and hiccupped.
‘Well,’ she said, finally, ‘what is it?’
‘Garibaldi is leaving Palermo later tonight. He instructs me to inform you that he returns on Sunday and requests an audience at eleven o’clock. He has business to discuss with you.’
‘What kind of business?’
‘How do I know? If he wasn’t so occupied with preparations for the campaign, I’m sure he’d have come himself—’
‘But he sent you, didn’t he? Why you and not a friend of mine like Enrico Fola?’
‘I volunteered because I am leaving in the morning. I came to say goodbye, Carina.’
Ben had not come to undo Greta’s work. He had come to say goodbye, no more and no less. ‘Let thy servant depart in peace …’ Words from her father’s funeral; nonsense jangling in her head. Ben was holding out his hand and Carina stretched her arm, stiff and straight, across the table. He lifted it and brushed her fingers lightly with his lips.
‘Your departure is very sudden …’ It was a ridiculous thing to say, but the whole situation was ridiculous, with her in her nightgown and Ben so formal in his uniform. Carina wanted to laugh or make a joke to ease the tension, but she couldn’t laugh in case she began to cry and she had to keep talking.
‘Who else is coming with you?’
‘I ride out in the morning with Enrico Fola and the Cacciatori d’Etna. All soldiers who are fit enough to fight will follow within a week.’
‘I see …’ But she did not see because tears filled her eyes. Ben was leaving her and they might never meet again. She had convinced herself she hated him, but now she couldn’t bear to let him go. As Carina searched for words of farewell, the cicadas ceased their chatter and in that long moment, in the long, hot night, the absence of their company was deafening. Ben glanced upward and a flash of lightning turned the veranda dazzling white. There was a crash and heavy rain slammed down on her head. Ben moved so fast she couldn’t think of what he was doing. He grabbed her hand, dragging her with him towards her bedroom.
Another flash ripped across the sky as Ben came in and shut the door behind him. Water dripped from his hair onto his face and he gazed about the room, his expression changing to one of surprise. Then he ran a hand through his wet hair and laughed.
‘I didn’t intend to confine you to your bedroom. I thought we were taking refuge in the salon.’
Carina watched as Ben shook himself, scattering drops of water onto the polished floor. He walked across the room, unfastening his jacket and slinging it over the chair. The way he moved reminded her of when they had been on the run. It was as if the storm exhilarated him, stripping away his veneer of sophistication and she eyed him suspiciously.
‘I hesitate to offer advice, but you should get out of your wet clothes.’
There was devilment in his blue eyes and Carina knew her shift was soaked through and transparent. The next crack of thunder shook the glass panes in the window, but she did not move.
‘Don’t be alarmed, sweetheart. I’m aware you’re a paragon of virtue and will leave as soon as the storm is over. There’s nothing to fear.’
How casually he said the words! There was nothing to fear because Ben had another woman to warm his bed and would return to her tonight. That thought was the last thing Carina remembered clearly of what followed. His mocking tone set loose madness in her brain and she looked around wildly for an object to hurl at him. As she made a grab for a bronze statuette, Ben crossed the room and caught her in his arms.
‘Get out of my life!’ She beat her hands on his chest and screamed at him. ‘I don’t want to see you again! Never again! Never! Leave me alone—’
Carina sobbed as she gave way to days and nights of strain and Ben crushed her against him.
‘Hush, Carina, that’s enough.’ Her wet cheek was pressed against his shirt, his fingers stroking her hair and his voice gentle. ‘It’s all right – be quiet now. Please don’t cry, my love.’
He put his hand under her chin and tipped her head back so Carina was forced to look at him. She couldn’t hide what was in her heart and the terror of losing him was plain in her eyes. Ben lifted her up and carried her over to the bed.
‘Try to rest. You’re exhausted. You need to sleep.’
He laid her down with her head on the pillow. As he straightened up, Carina thought he meant to leave and caught hold of the front of his shirt. Kneeling up on the bed, her arms reached up and hooked around his neck. There was no shame or pride left. She clung to him as if her life depended on it and when he tried to free himself, cried out.
‘Please don’t go! Not yet—’
‘I don’t want to take advantage of you – not in the state you’re in.’
‘Stay with me, please. Stay just a little while!’
‘Then give me a chance to get undressed.’
Ben sat on the edge of the bed and Carina watched through half closed eyes as he stripped off his shirt. He bent down to take off his boots and when he came to her, took her shift by the hem and pulled it over her head. Streaks of lightning illuminated the room through the slatted shutters and he studied her as if he had never seen her naked before. His hands moved over her body and he kissed the corner of her mouth, his lips lingering and caressing her neck.
Tonight when he tried to leave, she had begged him to stay. Ben was a sickness in her soul and Carina longed to be soothed by the comfort of his arms. Then she thought of Anne Lamartine. Did Ben make love to her with the same tenderness? How many women were there for him? In the name of mercy, how many more beside herself?
Carina sat up. Ben had hurt her and the urge to smash the pain inside was the same impulse that made her turn on him. He reached for her shoulder and she struck out and caught him across the cheek with the back of her hand. She would have hit him again, but he pulled her down on the bed beneath him. She was saying she hated him, saying she loved him until his lips covered her mouth and the retaliation of his body obliterated all else.
Ben possessed her completely and carelessly, their union as primitive as the violence that preceded it. Never before had Carina called out her love and need for him as she did now. Their passion for each other was undiminished, stronger than ever, carrying them to fulfillment black as night and bright as the blinding light of day – a beginning and an end, like death itself.
Ben lay with his head on her shoulder, her lips touching his forehead long after the storm had passed. Carina was only dimly aware of him getting up. He must have opened the shutters for the draught, the scent of wet leaves coming into the room. He pulled the sheet up to cover her and she felt his weight compress the mattress. His hand brushed her face, wiping the damp hair off her forehead and he kissed the side of her cheek.
‘Take care of yourself, my beautiful woman.’
Carina was too drowsy to speak or open her eyes and did not hear him leave. His footsteps were silent as he picked up his boots to put them on outside. Before he had gone from the room, she was asleep.