While Gwen and Andrew were preoccupied in a small grotto, a loud horn sounded.
“What was that?” Gwen raised her head to ask.
“It sounded like a horn,” Andrew replied helpfully.
“I know that, but where is it coming from? The beach?”
“Very likely,” he replied while continuing to shower his love with attention.
“Do you think someone is in trouble?” she persisted.
He sighed, realizing Gwen was distracted beyond redemption. “Very likely. I will go and look.”
He rose and walked over to the edge of the cliff. A fishing vessel appeared to be capsized and the villagers were running to help at the call of the horn.
“Run to the house for help! A boat has capsized!” he shouted as he began running toward the path down to the beach.
Gwen obeyed, calling for him to be careful as she did.
By the time Andrew made it to the shore, Luca and Giovanni were already there. Giovanni was hurriedly rowing a small boat filled with men to pick up those they could find, and Luca was organizing more men along a line of rope trailing behind the boat. Andrew had heard of such rescue efforts, but had never before been part of one.
“What can I do to help?”
Luca looked up momentarily with evident surprise to see Andrew there, but was grateful for the assistance.
“Use the spy-glass. Look for survivors.”
Andrew nodded, relieved he would not have to try his hand at swimming in the sea. He had many times looked through such a glass over the battlefield. Looking out to sea proved to be a more formidable task, with no point for reference. At last he decided to start from the cliffs and work his way out. He spotted Giovanni gathering survivors who clung along the rope—those who were able to hold on—and taking others into the rowing boat who could not. He spotted the overturned fishing vessel, and could see nothing of any more men.
“See anything?” Luca enquired once the fishermen were gathered and the rope was being pulled to the shore.
“Nothing but the fishing boat and those who are already retrieved. I would be happy for you to check for me though.”
Luca ran over to count those who had been found and began a discourse with the men as they arrived on shore. There were villagers there to receive them and provide aid. As Giovanni rowed back in, some of the survivors began pleading to take the boat back out. One of the fishermen, who could barely stand, began arguing in violent Italian.
“Have we missed someone?” Worriedly, Andrew began searching the seas again at the man’s obvious distress.
“No. They want to retrieve their catch. It was such a large haul, it was the reason for the boat turning over.”
“They believe they can retrieve it?” Andrew asked in disbelief, thinking that there had been someone left out there drowning.
“They wish to try. It will feed many hungry mouths and provide for many months.”
“They are exhausted. It will be impossible.”
“Perhaps, but they feel they must try.”
Andrew watched the men pleading, much like he had seen men begging for food when rations had been low on the Peninsula. He remembered the desperation when they had not known when they would eat again.
“It means that much to them?”
“Si.” Luca nodded.
“Then let us help. We are fresh.”
Andrew and Luca made their way to the rowing boat and spoke with Giovanni, who looked beaten from the efforts of rescuing twenty men. His father bade him wait on the shore while he and Andrew went in search of the fishing nets.
“Send more boats and more men. We will need more strength.”
Giovanni nodded and went to seek more help, while Andrew tentatively climbed into the row-boat. He had sailed across the small lake on the estate as a boy, with his cousins, but nothing compared to rowing against the waves on the ocean. By the time they reached the overturned fishing vessel, he had little energy left for searching for a few nets full of fish. He felt the errand to be fruitless. But it meant a livelihood to the villagers, so he vowed to try since they were in no fit state to do so themselves.
“So what do we do now?” Andrew asked Luca, who did not seem as fatigued as he felt, he noticed appreciatively.
Luca eyed him sceptically and said, “You would take orders from an old man you do not like?”
“I am a soldier,” Andrew replied humorously. “I take orders well.”
Luca chuckled. “Touché. First, we survey the boat.”
“Reconnoitre. I know how to do that.” Andrew nodded with admiration of the man’s grasp of the English and French languages.
As they rowed slowly around the overturned vessel, Luca was deep in concentration, as if memorizing every inch. Andrew was not sure what he was looking for. He looked down, trying to see through the water, but it was deep enough that he could not see as clearly as he’d been able to near the shore. He did not see any fish, as he had suspected. Luca began removing his boots and his shirt, revealing an impressively fit physique.
“I suppose, next, we go under the boat?” Andrew asked, not wanting to hear the answer.
“No,” Luca replied. “I go under the boat. You wait here.”
“Would it not be more useful for me to be under there with you?”
“No.” He shook his head. “You are afraid. I don't have the energy to rescue you too, or explain to your grandmother.”
“I was afraid at every battle, but I still did what needed to be done.”
“You are here to save me if I need to be. You can help me row back.”
Before Andrew could protest, Luca dived into the sea and disappeared under the boat. Andrew saw no sign of him for several minutes. Cursing, he finally began removing his own boots and shirt to search for the Conte, contemplating what he would tell his grandmother when he returned without her love. He had to admit he liked Luca. The Conte had humour and self-assurance, not to mention that he was honourable, risking his life to provide for his people. He was a perfect match for Andrew’s spirited grandmother. She would certainly give him a run for his money.
Andrew stood up and wobbled. He caught his balance and was grabbing his nose to jump in when Luca’s head burst out of the water. Luca held onto the boat, and he took several deep breaths. He then began laughing.
“What is so deuced funny?” Andrew demanded.
“You should see the picture you make.”
“I never pretended to be a sailor.”
“No.” Luca shook his head and fought to control his laughter.
“Did you find anything?” Andrew asked, trying not to laugh himself.
Luca smiled and struggled to hold up the end of a net. “Si. We will need many boats to bring this in.”
“Why do they not use many small nets?”
“They do not hold as much.”
Andrew stifled his ungentlemanly reply while still appreciative of Luca’s humour.
“Do they return yet?” Luca asked.
Andrew looked toward the shore. “I see some boats coming.”
“I pray there are enough.” Luca held up the end of the net to Andrew again. “Hold this and do not let go. I must go for the other side. It is still tied to the fishing boat.”
Andrew took hold of the massive ropes that made up the net. It was all he could do to maintain himself upright in the rowing boat as the fish caught within the net fought and struggled to free themselves from their prison. There had to be hundreds of them.
Giovanni rowed in with two other boats. “Where is my father?”
“He is loosening the other end.”
Giovanni nodded and held his hands out for the ropes. “Caro Dio!” he exclaimed.
“I'm glad you brought several boats.”
“The men warned me, but I had no idea it could be this much.”
The men in the boats neared and then worked to tie the ropes between their craft. Luca emerged from the sea once more, looking more tired this time. “He is human after all,” Andrew chuckled to himself. “I was beginning to worry again.”
“This end would not come loose. I had to stop for air a few times.”
“And here I was admiring your ability to stay under so long.”
“There is air under the fishing boat,” Luca laughed. “I should have let you think me Neptune.”
Another row-boat edged beside theirs and its crew helped to tie the end of the net between their vessel and Andrew’s. Andrew hauled a tired Luca back in.
When the net was as secure as they could make it, Giovanni gave instructions in Italian. The assisting men crossed themselves and began to shout in unison something similar to the heave-ho the English sailors used. He caught the rhythm quickly, though every pull was a struggle. He thought to himself, with every thrust of the oar, that marriage must be making him soft. He dared not look towards the shore, for he knew it was far. He heard Luca working hard behind him, and that spurred him to continue pushing though every muscle in his body was burning with fire.
As they came closer to the shore, men waded out to meet them and help pull the catch in. Andrew had never been so happy to be out of a boat. It was a sentiment he had felt before, but he meant it this time. The grateful fisherman had the net of fish under control, so he and Luca stumbled onto the beach to rest.
Andrew fell face first into the sand, and Luca sat with his head and arms resting on his knees. Giovanni joined them, and the trio lay down in silence, pondering the event, but mostly thankful it was over.
“Signor Abbott, please accept my gratitude. This is not your village or your people, so it was not your responsabilita, I think is the word,” Giovanni looked at Andrew who nodded. “But we very much appreciate your help.”
“Helping those in need is everyone’s responsibility,” he replied.
“Grazie.” The men shook hands.
“Besides, families help each other.”
Luca’s head popped up after hearing the exchange. He and Andrew looked meaningfully at each other and smiled.
After the fisherman had hauled the catch ashore and divided the booty, they began dispersing to their homes with plans to return with the slight evening tide to salvage the fishing vessel if possible. Luca, Giovanni and Andrew stood in order to make their way back home. Andrew looked at the steep cliff with trepidation.
“I do not look forward to this climb, but at least we do not have a load to carry,” Luca remarked.
“All I think of is food,” Giovanni said.
“I am too tired and sore to eat, I think,” Andrew reflected.
“Wait until the morrow. It will be worse,” Luca warned.
“Yes, I remember from battle. The day after is always more painful.”
“You must swim tomorrow. It will help the pains.”
“Is there something I could do not involving water?” Andrew asked inquisitively.
“Si. We put you to work with the harvest,” Giovanni teased.
“Perhaps it is time to go...” he jested with a friendly pat on Giovanni’s back.
Luca’s face fell, as if Andrew had touched a nerve.
“I speak in jest,” Andrew reassured Luca.
“This time, I know. But soon you will go, and I fear she will go too.”
“I cannot say what she will do, sir. I have never seen her this happy. But the choice is hers.”
Luca nodded as they reached the villa, and Andrew and Giovanni rushed toward their wives, who were waiting anxiously for their return.
Luca tried not to be disappointed that Henrietta was not there awaiting his arrival. Instead of going into the house to bathe for dinner, he wandered about the gardens, deep in thought. Perhaps he needed to scale back his affections. Henrietta was not a woman who liked to feel smothered or be ordered about. If he could only make her see how good they were for one another, to see things as he saw them…he had to find a way. She seemed to still love him, but she never put herself first. When she was younger, she would not have minded leaving England. But now? Most people his age were settled in one place and afraid of change. Perhaps she was not certain what she wanted to do with herself now, either, since she was travelling. His soul had not found rest without her. Never a day went by that he did not think of her and pray that God would help them find their way together again. He did not believe they had been reunited by coincidence, but he also did not want to ruin his last chance. He looked up to see the Duchess standing there, looking vexed.
“How dare you scare me like that? You speak your fancy words of growing old together, then I find you have gone out to rescue fishermen as if you were two-and-twenty!”
“Ah, so you do care,” he said, amused.
“I wish I did not.” She crossed her arms.
“I am fine, as are all the fishermen, thank you. We even managed to save the catch.”
“You went out there for fish?” She moved her hands to her hips.
“It meant a great deal to the villagers,” he explained calmly.
“There are plenty more fish in the sea!”
“Not a fact I wish to be reminded of at this time,” he muttered.
“Why do you not fight like most Italians? Instead, you smile and speak calmly.”
“I wish to save my passions for other things.” He smiled once more.
She blushed. “You will not be let off so easily,” she protested. “I am too old for you to give me frights like this!”
“As you can see I am in fine order. There was never any danger. To me, at least.”
She eyed him, clearly wishing to convey her anxieties to him, but she could not stay cross with him.
“Forgive me?” he pleaded as he took her hands in his and brought them to his lips with a gentle kiss. “I have only just found you again. Do you think me so foolish as to throw it all away over fish?”
“But I was told…”
“Shh. I don’t want to argue.” He hushed her with his fingertips and drew her in for another kiss.
After the men had cleaned and dressed for dinner, they met the ladies in the salotto. The men were extremely tired, but did their best to be pleasant dinner companions. Rosa had been very busy organizing the festival to celebrate the harvesting of the grapes.
Giovanni asked, “Is everything ready for the festa? We begin the gathering and treading tomorrow.”
“Si. All we need is the grapes.” She smiled.
“I have never attended a festa dell’ uva. I assume it has something to do with wine?” Andrew asked.
“Si. We bless the harvest, and celebrate God’s blessing on us.” Rosa answered.
“And have a little fun.” Luca added with a wink.
“That sounds lovely,” Gwen replied.
“You may help me in the village tomorrow, if you like,” Rosa invited.
“Yes, thank you. I would like to purchase some more paints as well.”
“When will we see your paintings?”
“I shall have one ready soon. It is a surprise.” Gwen looked toward Andrew. “Will you help with the grape harvest?
Andrew laughed. “I am not certain they will welcome my assistance after today.”
“There will be no swimming or rowing involved in picking grapes,” Luca teased.
“Am I to deduce you were the one who was in danger today?” the Dowager asked.
“Not at all,” Luca interceded.
“Only in danger of losing my manliness,” Andrew laughed. “I am not cut out to be a sailor.”
“No, I could have told you as much.” Gwen chimed in.
“Thank you for the support, my dear,” he said with a hint of sarcasm.
“But you are good at many other things,” she added.
“Stop now, please!” Andrew pleaded with his hands.
“But you did run the plantation,” she pointed out. “So you should be better at the harvest.”
“He actually did very well today,” Luca said. “I would have him help me any time.”
“Si. We would not have been able to bring the catch in without him,” Giovanni said gratefully.
“And that will feed the villagers for a long time.”
“And I have not had such a good laugh in a long time either,” Luca added.
“Laughs I can tolerate.” Andrew agreed.