Henrietta stared at the ceiling, trying to block out the sound of activity coming from her grandson and his new wife's cabin. When she had suggested them joining her on a trip to Italy and the Greek Isles for their wedding trip, she truly had believed she was a sound sleeper. She could not believe the energy youngsters had these days! Had she ever been so...lively? It was going to be a very long voyage if they continued at this pace. Three countries and thousands of miles, and there were no signs of slowing. Perhaps she would send them on their way by themselves after Christmas.
She threw back her bed covers, deciding a walk on deck might make her tired enough to sleep. She donned her dressing gown and a shawl to ward off the cool night air and exited the cabin, careful not to wake her maid, Hanson, who was sleeping in a hammock nearby. Hanson was a dear, but she cosseted her and fretted as if a gust of wind would carry her away.
Henrietta inhaled a deep breath as she climbed the steps to the deck, and heard the ship’s sails whipping in the wind. She was enjoying the sea voyage, surprisingly, despite the primitive conditions, and felt a new élan she hadn't felt in years. Little excited her at her age, and she pondered how she would spend her time now that Andrew was married. She was too old to chase her growing numbers of great-grandchildren, though she would do anything for them.
She shivered subconsciously. She didn't feel old enough to have great-grandchildren. She had been widowed very young, and had put bringing up her family, including her son Robert, the Duke of Loring, above her own needs and desires. She had felt an obligation to help with her daughter Elizabeth's children after Elizabeth had died. Now the last of them had married.
Perhaps she would continue travelling the world and stop wherever took her fancy for a time. She was considered eccentric anyway, and she was certainly too old to give any regard to others’ opinions any longer. Life had become much more delightful once she had dispensed with that inconvenient habit.
She leaned over the railing, attempting to feel the waves that sliced through the water and hit the side of the ship. She relished the feel of occasional sea spray on her face, recklessly enjoying the freedom of darkness too.
“Pardon, signora, please do not lean too much farther. I am certain it would be a pleasure to rescue you, but it would be very cold.”
Henrietta did not bother to look toward the rich Italian baritone voice, despite its entrancing sound that stirred her curious nature. She did smile, however.
“If rescuing old ladies gives you pleasure, sir, it might be time for you to find a new hobby.”
She heard a deep, rumbling laugh, and then she was compelled to look. It wasn't often someone dared to laugh at her unless they were family.
Her breath caught in her chest.
“You have not changed at all, Etta.” He took her hand and planted a kiss on it. “Bellissimo,” he whispered.
She squinted in the moonlight, cursing her old eyes. Standing before her was an older man with silver hair, though he stood tall and confident. Could it be?
“Luca?” she said with disbelief.
“Si, it is I.”
“How long has it been…thirty years?”
“Thirty-four.”
She subconsciously thanked the heavens he could only see her by the light of the moon. Perhaps she wasn't too old to care completely.
“What are you doing here?”
“I imagine, the same as you. I travel to Italia.”
She nodded.
“Are you also without sleep?”
“Yes, I must speak to my grandson about his nocturnal habits.”
“Ah, you must speak of the newly wed couple.” He chuckled. “That is young amore.”
“Indeed.” She nodded and looked away. “I did not realize there were other passengers on this ship.”
“Si, I only came on board at Gibraltar. I have kept to myself,” he responded quietly.
“Because you knew I was here?”
He gave a slight shrug of the shoulders. “I was not certain you would wish to see me.”
“Dear Luca, why would you ever think that?”
She searched his face as he pondered how to answer, and she saw the hurt still etched in his handsome features.
“It matters not, now.”
“It matters to me.”
She wondered why she should have this reminder of love lost after all this time.
“Shall we walk together?” he suggested and held out his arm expectantly. As she took it, he remarked, “You are freddo.”
He pulled her close for warmth, and she was surprised at her reaction to him. She was no longer a young, vulnerable widow. She hadn't felt this way since...she had met him thirty-four years ago. It seemed like yesterday, yet, at the same time, a lifetime ago.
“How have you been, Luca?”
He paused a moment, then sighed. “Well.”
“You look well. Age agrees with you.”
“Grazie. I think.”
“Do you travel alone?”
“Si.”
“You never remarried?”
“No. Only one woman ever caught my attention.” He paused, looking out to sea. “And it was never freed.”
Henrietta was speechless.
Luca continued, “And you? Did you ever remarry?”
She had known she had hurt him, but she had not realized how much. She had made the best decision for her children at the time. “No, Luca, I never did.”
They both studied the sea and the bright, starry sky in silence for some time.
“I have many nights looked at these very stars and wondered if you see them as I see them; if you ever see me in your dreams as I see you.”
“Have you ever forgiven me?”
“Forgiveness is not mine to withhold. But I could never forget you, Etta.”
“Thank you.”
He led her to a bench that had been nailed to the deck aft of the ship. They sat in peaceful silence, watching the moon and stars, and the occasional fish jump from the water.
“How do you spend your time, Luca? Do you travel often?”
“Si. I travel often. I only go back to see my son and his children.”
“I never knew you were quite so fond of travelling.”
“I could not remain still after we parted. I believe I have looked all over the world to fill the empty place.”
“And did you fill it?”
“No. But I have made peace.”
“I never intended to hurt you, Luca. I was young, and did not know how to make everything work.”
“You chose your children, and now your grandchildren. What will it be for you when they are all married?”
“Andrew is the last,” she said quietly.
“The bridegroom?”
“Yes.”
“And now?” he prodded.
“I do not know.”
He nodded understanding. They grew silent again, and watched the moon fall beyond the horizon and the sun began to lighten the sky. Henrietta was starting to grow tired, now that the shock of seeing her former love had worn off. As she rose to return to her bed, Luca spoke.
“Will you come to visit my home while in Italia? There is no view so bellissimo as Villa Mare.”
“I do not know if that is wise, Luca.” There were too many memories.
“We used to speak of one day making our home there together.”
“I have not forgotten.”
“There would be no harm for two old friends visiting again.”
She smiled as she saw his face light up when speaking of his home. There were few places as lovely as Italy, she agreed.
“I would love for you to meet Giovanni and my grandchildren.”
“I will think on it and speak to Andrew about it in the morning. Now, I believe I am ready to sleep. Which is just as well, as I will not be able to look either of them in the eye.”
“Assuming they leave the cabin.”
“Oh, they are sufficiently considerate to remember my presence long enough to ensure I am still breathing.”
“Be happy for them. Time is precious.”
“I am delighted they have found one another. It is being obliged to share a wall that I am not happy about.”
“Buona notte, mia bella.”
“Good night, Luca.”
Henrietta lay on her bed, and though she was exhausted, it was some time before her mind—and her heart—could slow down. She had never thought she would see him again, and she was surprised how much his presence still affected her. She was too old for these feelings any more. But what was she to do now that her family no longer needed her? She tossed and turned, unable to stop worrying. Her heart was pleading for love, but her mind was reminding her of her age and imperfections. Would it be better to hold onto the memories and sail on?
“It is three o’clock in the afternoon!” Andrew exclaimed.
“Hanson would have told us if something were amiss.” His wife, Gwen, tried to reassure him.
“She may stay in her bed reading, but she never sleeps all day. I should not have agreed to go gallivanting all over the world with her.”
“Perhaps she has been afflicted with seasickness, as we are.”
“The seas are calm, Gwen.”
“She wanted to see the world, as did I.”
“That does not mean it was a good idea. I am going to see.”
He walked out of their small cabin to the door immediately next to theirs and knocked.
Hanson looked out and gave Andrew a warning frown with a finger over her mouth.
“What is the matter with my grandmother?”
“Shh, Master Andrew. She did not rest well last night,” Hanson whispered loudly.
“Let him in, Hanson,” the Dowager called from her bed.
“Are you ill?” Andrew asked as he rushed to her side with concern.
“No. I am only tired. You may leave us, Hanson.”
Andrew paced the small cabin, worried. “Should I insist we stop at the nearest port for a doctor?”
“No, you fool. I am simply not sleeping well. At night,” she added to indicate she had been resting when he arrived.
“Shall I send for some brandy?”
“I do not need anything, Andrew.”
“But, Gran…” he protested.
“Stop fussing over me this instant!” she demanded.
“But,” he protested.
“No.” She held up her hand. “All I need is quiet,” she muttered.
He pondered her statement then realized her meaning. His cheeks reddened.
“I-I apologize.”
“There is no need to blush. You are doing what newly wedded couples do.”
“You could have said something sooner.”
“You are daft.”
“And you said you were a sound sleeper.”
“So I was.”
He cleared his throat.
“All was not lost. I took a stroll, met an old friend, chatted, and then returned to slumber,” she said casually.
“I beg your pardon?” He looked at her suspiciously.
“No, my attics have not gone queer.”
“You do realize we are not in London or Bath? One does not simply stroll and meet old acquaintances on board a private schooner sailing across the Mediterranean.”
“There is another passenger on board. Were you aware?”
“Yes, we have met. A pleasant Italian count.”
“He is an old acquaintance of mine.”
“Is he?” He eyed her with suspicion.
“And when I could not sleep...” She made a little noise with her throat and raised an eyebrow. “...I decided to stroll on the deck for some fresh air and encountered him.”
“You should not be out alone at night, Gran.”
“I am not a young débutante, nor am I so old that the wind will blow me overboard.”
“You mistake my meaning.”
“No, I am certain I do not.”
“I collect you spent the entire night becoming reacquainted?”
“Not the entire night.”
“I had better make myself more known to this count.”
“Luca has invited us to visit his villa during our stay in Italy.”
“Luca? You are already so familiar?”
She sighed. “I was engaged to marry Luca after your grandfather died.”
“I beg your pardon? I have heard none of this.”
“It is not something one speaks about. It was before you were born.”
“What happened?”
“I realized Robert and Elizabeth needed me more. Robert was struggling to administer the dukedom, and Elizabeth was making her début. It was not the right time. The decision would have been a very selfish one.”
“Do you regret your decision?”
“I am too old for regrets, my dear. I would make the same decision if I had to make it again, given the same circumstances.”
“And had the circumstances been different?” he questioned.
“Perhaps,” she said pensively.
“The circumstances are different now.”
“Yes, we are both old.”
“Are you ever too old to be loved?”
“I do not know, my dear. I do not know.”
“Well, I love you. I know ’tisn’t the same, but please do not feel the need to run off for fear you are in our way. We will try to be more considerate.”
“It matters not, now. We are due to arrive any day.”
“Where is this villa we are to visit?”
“Does that mean you agree?”
“I would not mind a few days on land. Besides, if you thought him worthy of a betrothal, I cannot object to becoming better acquainted.”
Andrew had never seen his grandmother wear a smile like the one she was wearing now. It made him wonder exactly what he was agreeing to, and what she and this conte had been about.
“I do not need your permission, you know,” she said arrogantly.
“I know,” he said in a solemn tone.
“But I should like it just the same.”
“I only wish for your happiness, as you wish for mine. Are you expecting something more from this?”
“No, my dear. He is an old friend. It will be nice to become reacquainted. His villa boasts some glorious views. Gwen will be enchanted.”
“I thought you had not been to Italy before,” he said, trying to remember.
“It was a lifetime ago. I am too old to recall,” she said evasively.
He eyed her and shook his head. No one had a sharper memory than she did. There was a knock on the door and Andrew opened it narrowly to see who was there.
“Is everything all right?” Gwen asked with concern on her face.
“Come in and see.” He stepped out of the way to let his bride enter.
“Good morning, my dear,” the Dowager greeted Gwen.
“Good afternoon,” Gwen corrected with a chuckle.
“Gran has been up all night with a man,” Andrew said, infusing a whisper of scandal into his voice.
“Good for her,” Gwen winked teasingly at the Dowager.
“Do you think I am too old for a gentleman to be interested in me, young man?” the Dowager asked, clearly taunting him.
“I do not think at all about how men view my grandmother,” he said with distaste, scowling.
Gwen clapped her hands excitedly. “I cannot wait to meet him!”
“He is merely an old friend, my dear.”
“An old friend she was betrothed to,” Andrew added helpfully.
“A very long time ago,” the Dowager countered.
“Who has invited us to stay at his villa,” he retorted.
“There is nothing suspicious about that,” she sallied.
“I want to hear about your romance,” Gwen interjected.
“I want to jump overboard,” Andrew muttered.
“Perhaps after my tea, dearest. If I am not too old to remember any of it.” She cast a narrowed glance at him.
“Apparently the villa boasts beautiful views,” Andrew told Gwen.
“This keeps getting better,” she exclaimed. “A real Italian villa. I hope there are rolling vineyards and turquoise seas.”
“I am certain you will not lack for subject matter,” his grandmother affirmed.
There was another gentle knock on the door.
“Enter,” the Dowager commanded.
Hanson entered the crowded cabin and curtsied. “The Captain asked me to inform your Grace that he has caught a glimpse of the coast, in case you might be wanting to prepare yourself for landing in a few hours.”
“It seems too soon to be arriving,” Andrew said.
“Not to me,” Gwen protested.
“I suspect Luca may have directed the Captain to sail closer to his villa.”
“It sounds like an excellent plan to me, if we are on land sooner,” Gwen said.
“I only hope we do not come to regret this,” Andrew muttered to his wife, who promptly elbowed him to hush.