Miracle For a Madonna Read online

  Hicks preened himself a little and Lord Mere said,

  “Well done, Hicks! But I asked you to find out if Prince Antonio had returned to Italy.”

  “I haven’t forgot that,” Hicks said quickly. “He’s a-comin’ back tonight­, at least they thinks so, and he’ll be stayin’ at the Palace.”

  “Thank you, Hicks! That is exactly what I wanted to know. Now, when you see this girl again tonight while I am at dinner, find out which room the Prince will occupy.”

  There was a faint smile on Hicks’s lips as if it pleased him to think of seeing the girl again so soon.

  “I’ll not fail you, my Lord.”

  “As soon as you know,” Lord Mere instructed, “come and tell me, whatever time of night you get back. Do you understand?”

  “Yes, my Lord!”

  Lord Mere changed his clothes for something more comfortable and once again went and sat in the garden.

  But now he found it difficult to be entranced even with the sun setting on the spires and towers below him or shimmering with all the colours of an artist’s palette on the waters of the Arno.

  Instead, all he could see was Florencia’s eyes pleading with him for help, as a child might turn instinctively to somebody older and wiser than herself.

  He knew without being told that she was desperate.

  He knew that every nerve in her body revolted against what appeared to be her Fate, which would not only affect her sensitivity but also her mind and the purity of her soul.

  He asked himself how he knew so much and knew that it was in the same way as a Raphael portrait could draw him and hold him.

  Just as it spoke to him as it had spoken to the artist who created it, so he knew just as if they had been close to each other for years rather than for only a few minutes of time that Florencia was appealing to his perceptiveness and understanding.

  Because he had a professional method and expertise when he was undertaking what he thought of as ‘a job’, Lord Mere thought over very carefully everything he knew about the Soginos and the Gorizias.

  He analysed everything he had seen and heard, everything that had made him suspicious that the Ansidei Madonna was a fake. But at the end of the summary the questions he had asked himself were still the same, still unanswered and still a strange puzzle that he could not unravel.

  He sat in the garden until the sun had set, when he knew it was time for him to have a bath and change for dinner.

  He saw as he sat down with his host to another excellent meal that Sir Julius looked tired.

  So as soon as they had finished, he rose from his chair and said to his host,

  “I fear that our excursion to the Palazzo and the gaieties of last night have proved too much for you. I therefore suggest that you go to bed.”

  “I would like to do that,” Sir Julius said gratefully. “At the same time I feel rather remiss that I am not entertaining you better.”

  “I assure you that I am perfectly content and have no desire to do anything but read a good book and think of those magnificent pictures I saw this afternoon.”

  “I knew they would please you.”

  Lord Mere did not reply and after a moment Sir Julius said,

  “I wish you could do something to help that wretched child! How can she face marriage to a man who is a byword for depravity?”

  “I have asked myself the same question,” Lord Mere replied, “and there seems to be no answer. Unless you have one?”

  “I wish to God that I had!” Sir Julius exclaimed. “I have known Florencia since she was ten years old and every year she has grown lovelier! How can the Prince do anything so unspeakable to his only daughter?”

  “He must have some very compelling reason!” Lord Mere said slowly.

  Sir Julius looked at him and it was obvious that he was startled.

  “You don’t think, you are not imagining that he is being blackmailed?” he asked hesitatingly after a moment.

  “By the Gorizias?” Lord Mere finished. “I would not be surprised!”

  As he spoke, he was thinking of how the Earl of Roseberry had told him that there were rumours that the Prince di Sogino was against the Monarchy.

  If this was true, the Prince di Gorizia might have turned it to his advantage.

  And yet such an idea seemed incredible!

  Lord Mere was aware that Sir Julius was watching his face.

  Then he said very quietly,

  “I think, Ingram, if anybody can find a solution to this problem, it could only be you!”

  *

  Lord Mere retired to bed at about eleven o’clock.

  He did not ring for Hicks because he knew that the other servants in the villa would expect his valet to be already in his room waiting for him.

  Finding him not there. Lord Mere knew that he had not yet returned from the mission he had sent him on.

  He therefore undressed and climbed into bed, trying to concentrate on a rather boring political study that had just been published and which he felt duty bound to read, although it gave him no pleasure.

  But he found that Florencia’s lovely face kept imposing itself on the text and he found himself thinking that he would like to see again the metal-point Madonna on the wall of the Palazzo, and imprint it on his mind so that he would always remember her.

  Then he knew with a somewhat cynical twist to his lips that it would be impossible for him ever to forget her and there was really no need for metal-points or paintings.

  She was there beside him, haunting him whether he liked it or not for the rest of his life.

  It was nearly midnight and he was still deep in thought when the door opened and Hicks came in.

  He only needed one glance at the valet’s face to know that he not only had the information he required but also that he had enjoyed himself.

  He walked towards the bed and Lord Mere sat up to ask,

  “What have you found out for me?”

  “Prince Antonio, my Lord, is expected this evenin’. He should be at home by now.”

  “Good! Did you find out which rooms he occupies?”

  “Yes, my Lord!”

  Hicks explained exactly where it was and Lord Mere realised that the window looked out over the magnificent view he had seen from the room where they had been received, but was one floor higher.

  There was, he learned from Hicks, a balcony to both windows of the room and that there were balconies outside the majority of the rooms on that floor.

  Lord Mere jumped out of bed.

  “Thank you, Hicks. Now we had better hurry!”

  “We’re goin’ there tonight, my Lord?”

  “Yes! You remembered to pack my usual clothes, as I asked you to do?”

  “Yes, my Lord.”

  Less than twenty minutes later Lord Mere and Hicks, both riding horses from Sir Julius’s stable, left the villa.

  A yawning groom, while surprised that his Lordship should wish to go riding so late, accepted the explanation that he could not get to sleep.

  Hicks made the story sound even more convincing by pointing out that the moonlight made it easy for them to find their way about without there being any danger.

  The streets were empty and, as Hicks had said, the moonlight was very bright and it took them only a short time to reach the Palazzo.

  It looked even more impressive and magnificent by moonlight than it had in the daytime.

  Lord Mere and Hicks rode between the trees that encircled the formal garden until they were opposite the part of the Palazzo where Prince Antonio’s bedroom was situated.

  As Hicks pointed out which room it was, Lord Mere could see that there was a light in the window.

  “Wait here, Hicks,” he commanded, “so that I shall know where to find you when I return.”

  “Take care, my Lord!” Hicks warned, speaking for the first time since they had left the villa. “You can’t trust them dagos when it comes to fightin’ and even their teeth be as sharp as stilettos!”


  Lord Mere did not reply.

  He turned and walked away, keeping in the shadows where it was unlikely that anybody in the Palazzo would see him.

  He was wearing a special suit that he had had designed for the sort of operation in which he was now engaged.

  It fitted him tightly and there were no parts of it likely to catch when climbing a tree or, as he intended at the moment, the wall of a Palazzo.

  His shoes were soft-soled which made it easy for him to move silently and also to climb without slipping.

  Climbing the walls of the Palazzo was, as he had thought it might be when he had seen it earlier today, very easy.

  The stones were old and in many places the plaster between them had worn thin or crumbled away.

  There was also on the lower floor a variety of heraldic carved shields, which made perfect footholds.

  Fit and athletic, Lord Mere found no difficulty at all in climbing up the lower walls almost as if he was a spider.

  Only when he reached the balcony did he move more cautiously, being careful to make no sound.

  There was still a light in the room and the casement window was open to the night although the curtains were pulled across it.

  With the poise and balance of a man perfectly adjusted to what he was doing, Lord Mere, calculating every movement of his body, climbed through the open window into the room.

  There he stood behind the curtains listening and was almost certain that there was somebody in the bed.

  He thought he could hear the sound of breathing and felt that to confront Prince Antonio at such a moment with the theft of his sister’s necklace would put him at a disadvantage that he would find it difficult to extricate himself from.

  Lord Mere drew in his breath, almost as if he drew on a force greater than himself to give him the power to do what he had to do.

  Then, with a sharp movement that had something almost theatrical about it, he pulled back the curtains with both his hands.

  It was a large room and almost directly opposite him there was a huge carved bed, heavy with velvet curtains falling from a carved corolla that reached almost to the ceiling.

  But in the centre of it, sitting up against the high pillows, Lord Mere saw not Prince Antonio, as he had expected, but Florencia staring at him wide-eyed in sheer astonishment.

  Chapter Four

  For a moment Lord Mere and Florencia stared at each other.

  Then he recovered first and managed to say quite convincingly,

  “I told you that I had to see you.”

  “How could you have – come here?” she asked and then gave a little cry. “You must have – climbed up the walls?”

  He smiled, pulled the curtains to behind him and came towards the bed.

  “You might have – killed yourself!” she gasped.

  “I assure you I was quite safe.”

  He stood by the bed looking at her, then thinking she might be embarrassed if he sat down on it, he pulled up a chair.

  “Y-you should not be – here,” she said in a trembling voice.

  “I know that,” he answered, “but we are alone and no one is aware of it, so let’s talk frankly.”

  He felt as he spoke that she was hardly listening but only staring at him so that her eyes seemed almost to fill her face.

  Then she said quietly,

  “It was – brave of you, but you should – go away.”

  “I think,” Lord Mere said, “that you would be disappointed if I left when for once we can talk to each other without being interrupted. There is so much I want to hear, so don’t let us waste any time troubling ourselves about things that are unnecessary.”

  She gave a little smile, which he had not expected.

  Then she said,

  “It is – difficult to know what to say – in the circumstances.”

  “Not really,” he replied. “I think that you are as aware as I am that something strange has passed between us and I know as I have never known anything so positively in my life before that I have to help you.”

  A little shiver ran through her and he knew that his words had brought Prince Vincente to her mind.

  He thought as he looked at her that he had never seen a woman look so lovely in bed and yet at the same time so pure and innocent.

  With her long golden hair falling over her shoulders almost to her waist and her child-like nightgown trimmed with a row of lace buttoning to the neck, she looked much as Mary must have looked when the Archangel Gabriel appeared to her.

  There was, Lord Mere thought, something about Florencia that he had never encountered in any other woman and he knew that it was a purity of mind and body that was almost sacred.

  Then he said very softly,

  “Trust me.”

  “How can – I?” Florencia asked. “Even if I – told you what was happening, there is – nothing you could do about it.”

  “How can you be so sure of that?”

  She looked at him and he felt as if she was peering deep beneath the surface.

  He knew it was what he did when he was trying to understand another person, digging deep into their personality in an effort to discover the truth.

  He did not speak, but his eyes held hers until she said, a little shyly, as if she spoke to herself,

  “H-how can you be so – different?”

  “That is what I want you to think,” he replied. “We know that we are both different in a way that would be inexplicable to any ordinary person, so perhaps together we can work the miracle that is needed.”

  He saw a sudden light come into her eyes as if that was what she had been praying for.

  She clasped her hands together on the lace-edged sheet in front of her and he saw that her fingers were very long and thin and so beautiful that he knew that any artist would long to paint them.

  He was waiting for an answer and after a moment she said in a very small voice,

  “I-I don’t – know where to begin.”

  It was then, suddenly, like an explosion, that there was the sound of a man’s voice outside the room.

  He was speaking in Italian and, as Lord Mere started to his feet, Florencia gasped,

  “It is my – brother! He must not – find you – here!”

  Lord Mere did not answer.

  He quickly walked across the room and, knowing that he had only a second or two to spare, went behind the curtain of another window from the one he had entered the room through.

  He had only just drawn the curtains behind him when the door opened and he heard Florencia exclaim,

  “Antonio! I wondered what had happened as you were so late!”

  “I did not expect to find you here!” her brother answered. “It was kind of you to wait up for me.”

  “Where have you been? Papa expected you back hours ago!”

  “Yes, I know,” Prince Antonio replied.

  As he spoke, Lord Mere heard him put something heavy down on the floor and a second later there was the sound of somebody else, he supposed a servant, bringing in more luggage.

  “That will be all, Georgio,” the Prince said.

  “Shall I tell your valet that you want him, Your Highness?”

  “No, I will put myself to bed.”

  The servant said ‘goodnight’ and went from the room and Lord Mere knew that the Prince had sat down on the chair by the bed that he had just vacated.

  “I suppose you have been worried,” the Prince said.

  “You have it with you?” Florencia asked very softly.

  “Yes, I have brought the necklace back with me,” Antonio replied. “One of the reasons I am so late is because I stopped at the Ponte Vecchio to give it to Giovanni, as one of the stones was loose.”

  “None of them are lost?”

  “No, they are all there and Giovanni says that, since he last saw it, it has doubled in value!”

  There was silence and Lord Mere knew perceptively that Florencia was looking unhappy.

  “It’s no use,
dearest,” the Prince said roughly. “There is nothing we can do but let them have it and a lot of good may it do them!”

  “B-but – they want – me too!”

  The words came falteringly from Florencia’s lips as if she could not prevent them from doing so.

  “I know, I know!” the Prince said irritably, “but we have been through all this before and I can think of no other way of saving Papa.”

  There was silence.

  Then, as if Florencia suddenly remembered that Lord Mere was in the room, she said,

  “I-I suppose you want to – come to bed?”

  Her brother smiled.

  “You look very comfortable, so I will not move you. We can change places in the morning.”

  “I only came here,” Florencia explained, “because I was so frightened that I might miss you if you went out early in the morning before I was awake.”

  The Prince laughed.

  “That would be a change from coming in late after you are asleep. Bianca asked me to stay with her, but I knew you would all be expecting me to be here for breakfast and so I refused.”

  “You have seen Bianca?”

  “She missed me as much as you have,” the Prince replied, “and she also had information I wanted.”

  “What was that?”

  “A report on a few more of the disgusting things that devil Vincente has been doing in the town. I am making a list of them!”

  “Why?”

  “It may do us no good. At the same time it might come in useful, one never knows!”

  “C-could we – is it possible – ” Florencia stammered, “to – use it against him so that I need not – marry him?”

  Her brother shook his head.

  “I doubt it. Everybody knows what he is like and deplores his behaviour, but he is not doing anything criminal from the point of view of the law.”

  There was a hopeless note in his voice as Prince Antonio said in a different tone,

  “Oh, God, Florencia, you know I would save you if I could! But short of killing him, what the hell can I do?”

  “I know, Antonio dear, but if you did that you would be hanged, and that would bring shame upon our family – and I know it would kill Papa to lose you.”