Dearest Alice,
I am writing this in the town of San Giovanni and will explain everything to you when we reach Naples. I have the most wonderful news! Tomorrow I am to marry Colonel Ben Mavrone. I know this will come as a shock, but please trust me. I met Ben this spring and came to know him well after the Redshirts entered Palermo. He is the best of men and I love him dearly. As soon as the campaign is over, I will bring him to England to meet you. Then you will understand my happiness …
Carina was awake, but too tired to open her eyes. Her spine was pressed against Ben’s stomach and, for the first time in weeks, they were alone, lying on the softest spring mattress in the whole of Naples. How Ben had found the hotel, she had no idea. It was late when they arrived and the double bed and snug apartment seemed like paradise.
And what a day yesterday had been! They had travelled the final lap of the journey with Garibaldi on a train that was crammed to bursting. Enthusiastic demonstrations greeted them at every station and when they reached Naples and Garibaldi descended onto the platform, a crowd of supporters surged towards him. Knocking down barriers, they swept past the guard of honour, drowning out the welcome speeches of the officials. Ben had shouldered a way through the melee and they had managed to get to the open carriages before the procession through the city began.
Once or twice Garibaldi took off his hat and inclined his head, but he neither waved nor smiled. Only when they passed the port, where the sailors hung like monkeys from the riggings and broke into a cheer, did he raise his arm in a salute. Arriving at the Royal Palace, vacated by the king only days before, he addressed the crowd from the balcony.
‘This is the beginning of a new era for Italy! Today we pass from the yoke of servitude to become a free and great nation. I thank you for your welcome. I thank you for your courage in the name of all Italy.’
Something had surprised Carina then. She and Ben were standing beneath the balcony and her gaze strayed to the group of people behind Garibaldi. One man caught her attention because he was wearing court dress. She had imagined for a moment it was Prince Scalia, but she must have been mistaken. The king had fled north to Gaeta and taken his court and ministers with him. Snuggling closer to Ben, she dismissed the memory and let her mind drift back over the last weeks.
Ben had found a priest in San Giovanni and they were married quietly in a small chapel with Greta and Stefan as witnesses. There was no time to invite anyone else. Greta gave her a clean red shirt and helped tie her hair with a white ribbon. As she stepped forward to stand beside Ben, Greta pressed a small bouquet of white carnations into Carina’s hand. They had taken their solemn vows and, hearing Ben’s voice pledging his love and fidelity, Carina thought her heart would break with joy.
She had been with Ben and the Pioneers ever since and Carina had never ridden so hard or so fast in her life. This was the life he loved, she thought. She noted every detail about him, the way he took decisions, his easy manner with subordinates and the warmth in his eyes when they met hers across the campfire. When Ben slung their bedrolls down side by side on the ground, she had wished they were alone, and last night was her reward. Not waiting to have supper, Ben had dropped their bags on the floor and taken her straight to bed. Thinking of it, Carina stirred restlessly.
‘Are you hungry, my love? Shall I order breakfast?’
‘I’m starving. I said so last night, but you wouldn’t listen.’
‘I recall other appetites demanded satisfaction first.’
His hands were under her hair, lifting her head, and Carina’s lips fluttered against his mouth. When he made love to her all other thought was scattered to oblivion. It was only later, as she looked up at cherubs and satyrs painted above the bed, Carina remembered. It was Scalia she had seen yesterday! How could he have been in the official ceremony for Garibaldi? Could Bianca also be in Naples? Had Ben seen him too, and drawn the same conclusion?
Carina slipped out of bed and wrapped a sheet round her as she went to the window. The street below was crowded with men and women waving banners and chanting Garibaldi’s name. She leant forward to get a better view until a whistle from the opposite balcony made her step back.
‘Your beauty isn’t wasted on the menfolk of Naples, my love. A little more modesty, please, or we’ll have the entire male population of the city barracking our hotel.’
Ben smiled and Carina gave a toss of her head as she went to the antechamber and immersed herself a tub of cool water. Ben came through and knelt down. He tried to duck her head under water so she threw the soap at him and when she scrambled out, he climbed into the tub himself.
‘I’ve been looking forward to a bath for weeks!’ Carina feigned indignation. ‘You might have let me enjoy it.’
He made a lunge for her, but she escaped and put on her clothes before she tugged the bell pull to summon the porter. After some time the man appeared, yawning as he buttoned up his jacket.
‘We would like coffee and as much bread as you can find.’
‘But everyone’s out in the streets, signora.’
‘But you’re here and I’m sure you’ll be kind enough to fix something for us. My husband has an appointment with General Garibaldi. We mustn’t keep him waiting.’
Garibaldi’s name had a magical effect and within half an hour Carina was sitting by the window, dipping panini into milky coffee. When Ben emerged from the bathroom, he had shaved off his beard and her heart skipped a beat. Oh how she loved him! His good looks and engaging smile caused havoc in a woman’s heart – and she must take care not to lose him in this riotous city.
Ben sat down and flicked a breadcrumb off the front of her shirt. His hand lingered a moment before he sighed and withdrew it to fill his cup with coffee. Carina wondered if she should tell him her suspicions about the prince. She didn’t want to spoil the happiness of the morning but had vowed to keep nothing from him.
‘I thought I saw Prince Scalia with Garibaldi yesterday. Could it be possible?’
‘Scalia and Liborio are snakes in the grass. As soon as they deserted one master, they crawled straight to the next.’
‘How can Scalia remain at liberty? I don’t understand.’
‘One of Garibaldi’s strengths is pragmatism. The king is holed up in Gaeta, but he’s determined to reclaim Naples. The general knows the populace is fickle. He’s prepared to accommodate a few turncoats until Victor Emmanuel accepts the crown.’
‘But Scalia’s the most evil man in the two Sicilies—’
‘And one of the most powerful in Naples. He has greater influence here than in Palermo.’
‘Mercy! Will we never be rid of him?’
‘Scalia will be punished in time. Garibaldi will deal with him when he’s no longer of any use – but I agree. I find it reprehensible he does business with murderers.’
Ben stood up, and walked over to the cabinet where he had left his revolver. He checked the hammer before tucking the gun it into the holster. Carina was prepared for a shift in his mood but it passed swiftly.
‘And now, and now, sweet wife, I must attend to your trousseau. I’m going shopping.’
‘May I come with you?’
‘Heavens, no! What would the couturiers of Naples say? Trust me, darling. I’m told I have an excellent eye for feminine fashion.’
He was bound to be away hours, so Carina set about fixing her coiffure. Her hair had grown long and she brushed it, combing out the knots, before she attempted a chignon. Standing in front of the glass with a mouthful of pins between her teeth, she tried to remember how Rose had put it up. It was far harder than she knew. No sooner was her hair rolled in one place than the pins fell tumbling to the floor. In the end she gave up and waited impatiently for Ben to return.
He walked in, his arms stacked with boxes, which he tossed on the bed. Packed within layers of tissue, were dresses and petticoats, underclothes and corsets, and Ben made her try everything on. He had rather too expert a hand, she thought, as he laced her into stays and fastened buttons until she stood before him in a dress of moiré silk. Carina was impressed by Ben’s good taste, including a delightful bonnet with a wide brim and ribbon that matched the colour of her eyes.
‘Thank you, my darling.’ She stood on tiptoes to kiss him. ‘They’re lovely.’
‘This is our honeymoon and you look beautiful. I shall be the envy of every husband in Naples.’
There was undisguised admiration in Ben’s eyes and Carina took him by the hands and whirled him round the room. He laughed and told her she was behaving like a child, but she didn’t care. Ben arranged for a lady’s maid to come each morning to dress her hair, and she did not think about Prince Scalia or Bianca again. The weather was perfect and Naples a vibrant, bustling port surrounded by antiquity. They drove out to the slopes of Vesuvius and looked in wonder at the volcano. Another day, they visited a museum packed with treasures from Pompeii where the mosaics were fresh as yesterday and sculptures so lifelike they looked like flesh and bone.
Ben cut a dashing figure in the city and Carina was aware of the impression he made when entering a room. She noticed the eyes of other women following him and how they blushed as he bent over their hands. More confident than she was in conversation, Ben could be provocative or as tactful as a diplomat. She never knew what he might say next or which opinion he would favour. Carina listened to him talk of matters about which she knew nothing and regretted her lack of formal learning. She wanted to be Ben’s equal in every way and was ashamed of her ignorance.
‘But you have youth on your side!’ His eyes danced when she told him. ‘You’ve plenty of time to learn about the world. There’s no need to rush.’
Nevertheless, Ben took the trouble to explain current issues to her and bought her newspapers to read. He asked her questions and listened to her answers, encouraging her to form her own views. He could be serious or funny, making her laugh until she cried. When he gave her a book of Keats’s poetry, he said that he preferred her verse to all the Romantic poets put together. He was teasing, Carina was sure, but she was pleased with the compliment.
On the surface Ben was sophisticated and urbane, but he never lost the look of a man who has lived with danger too long to be careless. He was unstintingly generous and attentive, yet his core of isolation remained. Occasionally, Carina turned her head and caught a brooding look on his face. His mind was far away and his expression so serious she wondered what he could be thinking. The moment he felt her eyes on him, Ben would get up and kiss her or tell her a story to make her smile.
Then, for two consecutive days, he left her alone in the hotel. He gave no explanation of where he had been and Carina knew better than to interrogate him. Ben had always been secretive and she wouldn’t look for shadows in the sunlight. She had known how it would be and there were no regrets. Ben was her beloved husband and, for the most part, seemed as delighted with married life as she was herself.
One evening they were invited to dine with Garibaldi at the Palazzo D’Angri, arriving late to find the antechamber crammed with journalists. Scores of hands darted in the air, beseeching them with questions until they reached the private apartments where Garibaldi embraced Carina. He congratulated Ben on his good fortune and she was overjoyed to find Greta and Stefan among the guests, along with Jane and Jessie and Alberto Mario.
‘We’ve only just heard of your marriage. Congratulations to you both!’ Jessie wagged a finger at Ben. ‘You’ve found yourself a remarkable woman, Colonel Mavrone. Make sure you take care of her – no more running off as you did after Milazzo!’
‘I’ve been dying to talk to you. Do you mind if we sit down?’ Greta took her hand, leading Carina to an open window.
She was pale and Carina looked at her with concern. ‘What’s wrong, Greta? Are you ill?’
‘I’m told the sickness is normal and will pass in a month or so.’
‘You don’t mean? You’re not—’
‘In an interesting condition? Yes, I am! Can you believe it? Stefan and I’ve been married for five years. We’d almost given up hope.’
‘Why, it’s wonderful news! When did you find out?’
‘I saw the doctor yesterday and the baby’s due in April. Stefan’s mortified that he let me ride as a courier. He insists we return to Sicily at the earliest opportunity. And you, dearest? Are you happy?’
‘Oh, Greta … When I think how Ben and I almost lost each other. We owe all our happiness to you. How can I ever express my gratitude?’
‘By coming home and following my example.’ Greta opened her fan to cool herself. ‘I shall spend my confinement with my mother and rely on you to visit every day. Now I’ve found a woman after my own heart, I intend to keep her my friend forever.’
The others joined them and Jessie cast a knowing glance over Greta. ‘Well, Senora Bosco, it’s fortunate your services are no longer required on the battlefield.’
‘What news of the ambulances?’ Ben asked.
‘They arrived from Reggio yesterday. I’m glad to say we’ve been allocated the finest convent in Naples as our hospital. Never again will we be unprepared as we were at Milazzo.’
‘Garibaldi hoped no more blood would be shed between fellow Italians,’ Carina said quietly.
‘No king gives up his throne without a fight and the Bourbons are the worst of the lot.’ Alberto Mario answered. ‘I’m afraid it’s not over yet.’
The next night they went to the opera at the Theatre San Carlo for Verdi’s Nabucco. Carina hoped to hear the famous chorus, but the audience was over-excited and the performance constantly interrupted. The opera stopped and started so many times, they left at the interval, walking along the marina before returning to the hotel. When she thought about Harry, Carina hoped he had returned to England, and tried not to feel guilty. She must write to him but nothing was so important that it couldn’t wait. Happiness was not a dream. It was here and now and every moment too precious to waste.
They were sitting at a pavement table in the morning sun and waiters in long aprons hurried from table to table. Smartly dressed men did business over coffee and Ben was reading a newspaper. At the far end, a man sat with a book propped in front of him. Carina noticed him because, more than once, he lifted his head to stare in their direction. When she caught his eye, he looked quickly away and soon afterwards summoned the waiter for his bill. The next day she saw him again. She was with Ben, buying cigars, and he was standing outside the shop window.
Touching Ben’s arm, she indicated with her head. ‘Who is that man?’
‘Which one?’
‘That bald fellow over there. I am sure he’s following us.’
‘You’re a beautiful woman, darling. Every man in Naples would follow you if they had time.’
He wasn’t taking her seriously and when Carina looked again, the stranger had gone. Ben was right. Why shouldn’t the man frequent the same restaurants and visit the same shops as they did? He was probably one of the many journalists who followed Garibaldi from Sicily and now had nothing to do. During the next few days there was no sign of him and Carina put him out of her mind.
She had discovered the Villa Denuzio was an hour’s drive from Naples and sent a letter to her grandmother.
Darling Nonna,
I am sorry not to have written before but these last weeks have been a whirlwind. I pray you are well. Please, can I come and see you soon? I have some good news I wish to convey to you in person …
An answer, written in a spidery hand, was delivered to the hotel the same evening. Nonna wrote that Carlo and Anna Maria were in Gaeta on the command of the king, while she remained in the villa with Gabriella and Paulo. She looked forward to Carina’s visit. When might they expect her?
Carina replied there was someone she wanted her to meet and she would bring him for lunch the day after tomorrow. She was confident Ben would win Nonna over but when she thought of Gabriella her mood darkened. She felt so desperately sad for her. What could she say that could possibly be of any consolation? They were driving home and, with these thoughts on her mind, Carina sighed as she rested her head on Ben’s shoulder.
‘You’re tired, my love. I’ll take you back and then I must return to headquarters.’
‘But you were there only an hour ago.’
‘Something’s come up.’
When they arrived at the hotel, Ben walked her to the door and Carina entered the dark lobby alone. She was about to go upstairs when she heard her name and looked round as Harry rose from a high-backed chair. He walked over and then, as if it were the most natural thing in the world, invited her to join him in a glass of lemonade.
‘I’ve been looking for you but only thought of enquiring at the Palazzo D’Angri this morning. They told me you were staying here.’
‘I meant to write to you. Dear Harry, I’m so sorry.’
Harry poured her a glass of lemonade. He sat straight and stiff in his chair and took a sip of juice.
‘When I heard you were married I couldn’t believe it.’
‘Can you forgive me?’
‘Nothing to forgive, old girl. Had a feeling something was up and hoped I was wrong.’ His sentences were patently rehearsed. ‘I sail for England on Friday and couldn’t leave without saying goodbye. We’ve been friends for too long.’
‘Dear Harry, you’re like a brother to me—’
‘And too much of a fool to realise it!’
Carina dropped her gaze to her lap. It was awkward enough and she didn’t want to make it any worse. There was a commotion in the street outside but no one came in and Harry put down his glass.
‘I know it’s not my business, but are you sure you made the right decision?’
‘I promise you I am happy. I know Ben behaved badly in San Giovanni and I apologise. He was upset that night but he’s a good man and I truly love him.’
‘Will you stay in Italy?’
‘Sicily will be our home but we’ll visit England once the campaign is over. I want to see you and introduce Ben to Alice.’
‘Does Lady Farne know of your marriage?’
‘I’ve written to her and will tell my grandmother tomorrow.’
Harry began to fiddle with his watch chain. He was disinclined to continue the conversation and Carina studied him over the top of her glass. His hair was bleached the colour of pale straw and he looked older than his twenty years. How she wished she hadn’t had to hurt him! There was a long silence, then he took a card from his wallet and, in a curiously formal gesture, placed it on the table in front of her.
‘Please will you do me the honour of dining with me tomorrow evening? I would like to be on better terms with your husband before I leave. I’m staying at the Hotel Garibaldi. Shall we say seven o’clock?’
‘Why, thank you! How very kind.’
Carina stood up to kiss him but Harry put on his gloves and shook her hand. After he had gone, she made her way up to the bedroom. Harry had left an English newspaper and she was lying on the bed reading it when Ben returned. She would have jumped up and run to him but the serious look on his face stopped her.
‘I’m afraid there’s trouble in Palermo. The Sicilians are claiming Garibaldi’s deserted them. He’s asked me to take charge of the situation.’
‘Why you? Why not someone else? How long will you be away?’
The questions followed one upon the other and Ben sat down on the bed beside her.
‘I’m the most senior Sicilian officer in Garibaldi’s command.’
‘When do you go?’
‘At first light tomorrow.’
‘But we’re visiting my grandmother—’
‘I know and I’m sorry. I will pay my respects as soon as I return.’
Carina swung her bare legs over the side of the bed. There were other officers who could do the job just as well! Why did Garibaldi have to choose Ben? He was a well-respected and high-ranking officer, she reminded herself. Ben was under the general’s command and must obey orders. He had other responsibilities, apart from attending upon her.
‘I’ve booked you on the same ferry as Greta and Stefan on Thursday. I’m not leaving you alone for long, my darling.’
Thursday? Why, today was Tuesday! It was the day after tomorrow and Ben was taking her with him to Palermo! How silly to think he would abandon her in Naples. Those days were behind them. She was his wife now and he would never leave her again.
Ben came to bed and pressed her hand against his heart so she felt its strong, steady beat. Carina sought his mouth impatiently. She held him close to her and when he tried to raise himself up, pulled him back down. She was intoxicated with this man who was her husband. She loved the taste of him, the feel of his hard body and his cool skin. Ben kissed her, gently at first, and then passionately. He turned her over, his lips brushing her shoulders as he lifted her onto her knees. Carina felt his body against hers, his finger tracing the deep groove of her spine and she abandoned herself to him entirely. He is mine, she thought …
Carina lay with her head on his lap, her hair spread across his stomach as Ben propped himself up on the pillows, not knowing if she stayed awake or dozed in the hours that followed. The clock struck three and she heard him moving around the room. She kept her eyes shut until he came back and knelt by the bed, taking her in his arms.
‘I’ve paid the bill and left you money with your travel papers in the desk. Stefan has your ticket for the ferry. Remember your pistol, sweetheart. Promise to have it on you always.’ He took her face in his hands and kissed her forehead and then her lips. ‘I’ll see you in Sicily, my darling. Behave yourself while I’m away.’
Ben stood up, collected his knapsack, slinging it over his shoulder as he walked towards the door. He stood for a long moment with his hand on the knob looking back at her and then went out. As the door closed, Carina experienced a sense of loss so acute she bit down on her knuckle to stop herself crying. She didn’t know why she was so upset. They would only be apart for two days. It was no time at all. Her love for Ben was making her soft, she thought as she walked over to the window.
Carina watched Ben cross the street below, his stride long and purposeful as he headed towards the port. When he was lost from sight, her gaze travelled over the tiled rooftops to the bay. The sea was smooth as polished gunmetal and he would have a good crossing. Tomorrow was a busy day. She must try to get some rest and she went back to bed, curling up in the place where the sheets were still warm.