Glory was disconcerted to be told that Rafaello’s father was waiting to speak to her. Maud had shown him into the rarely used front parlour. The reason for Benito Grazzini’s visit shook Glory even more. He had come to give her a very beautiful diamond tiara that had belonged to his own mother.
‘I always planned to give this to Rafaello’s bride but it took me until this morning to work up the courage to offer it to you,’ Benito admitted anxiously. ‘I very much want to repair the damage I have done to you and to Rafaello and I also wish to welcome you with a whole heart to our family.’
Recognising the depth of the older man’s sincerity, Glory thanked him and told him that she had already forgiven him and that Rafaello would soon feel the same.
Maud exclaimed over the tiara but was even more impressed by Rafaello’s gifts. ‘He’s certainly pushed the boat out and no mistake!’
‘It’s just so extravagant…all this for me.’ Glory fingered the gorgeous necklace with reverent fingers. ‘It’s like a dream.’
‘Just like a wedding ought to be,’ the older woman said with warm approval.
An hour or more later, when Glory studied her reflection in the mirror, a glow of incredible happiness consumed her. The instant she had seen the dress in an exclusive wedding store in London she had fallen madly in love with it. The neckline was off the shoulder and elegant and the intricate bodice of silver beaded and embroidered silk ended in a flattering V-waistline. The sleeves were tight but flared out into a fall of exquisite lace at the elbow. The satin-silk skirt opened at the centre to reveal a panel of the same gorgeous beaded silk as the bodice. Having set aside the pretty fake tiara she had intended to wear with her Chantilly lace bridal veil, she had replaced it with the diamond tiara that Benito had given her.
Glory went downstairs to join her father, Maud having already left for the church. Leaning on the stick that gave him the extra support he needed while he was still slightly unsteady on his feet, the older man looked very well. But as she reached the hall Glory’s brow indented. ‘What’s that noise? It sounds like horses…’
‘Strewth…’ Archie Little gasped in astonishment at the sight that met his eyes when he peered out of the front door.
Rafaello had sent not a car to collect her and her father but an open carriage lined in sapphire velvet, driven by a coachman in a full regalia and pulled by four white horses ornamented with elaborate plumes. Glory was thrilled to bits.
‘The boy’s certainly doing you proud,’ was all her shaken father could think to comment when a wildly impractical white carpet was unrolled to pave her entry into the church.
Glory alighted on the white carpet and smiled for the photographers and floated along the carpet into the church and down the aisle to join Rafaello at the altar in a blissful daze.
‘You look like a fairytale princess,’ he whispered, shimmering golden eyes riveted to her in heart-stopping admiration. ‘Just as I always imagined, bella mia.’
After the marriage service they travelled back in the carriage to Montague Park, where the wedding breakfast was to be served. The ballroom had been transformed with glorious flower arrangements into the most magnificent backdrop for the occasion. In the afternoon the bride and groom departed, but not before Glory had thrown her bouquet and her future stepmother had caught it.
They were to spend their honeymoon in the Grazzini home in Tuscany. Arriving there at dusk, Rafaello carried her over the threshold and straight upstairs to a gorgeous bedroom, where he finally got his bride into his arms without an audience.
‘I have had the most wonderful day,’ Glory informed him, gazing up at him with shining eyes of love and contentment.
‘It’s been the happiest day of my life, amore mia.’ Rafaello framed her lovely smiling face with possessive fingers, studying her with passionate tenderness. ‘And, if I have anything to do with it, every day you spend with me will be the same…’
Just over a year later Glory tucked their infant son into his cot. At almost six months old, Lorenzo had silky black curls and big blue eyes. He was a friendly, cheerful baby with a wonderful smile who slept well, ate well and loved being cuddled.
They had flown out to the villa in Corfu only that afternoon. The night before, they had celebrated the first anniversary of their marriage with a special family dinner at Montague Park. Glory was thinking how happy she had been to have her father and Maud, Sam and Benito all at the same table with nobody seeming to feel the slightest bit awkward any more. The divisions between their families had been healed and Rafaello had long since regained his former closeness with his father.
Archie and Maud had got married a couple of months after Glory and Rafaello and had then surprised everyone by taking over the village shop and embarking on a pretty busy lifestyle which seemed to suit them very well. Sam had lived with them in their new home in the village until he completed his school year and was able to sit his exams. He had then spent most of the summer in Tuscany with Benito and had returned with a good grasp of Italian. Determined to stay in advance of her kid brother, Glory had started taking lessons to learn the same language faster. Sam was currently studying for his A levels at a London school and he spent regular weekends with Archie and Maud. Benito had bought a city apartment, where Sam had come to grudging terms with living in the lap of luxury, but only after being made to appreciate how much the Grazzinis gave to charitable causes.
Glory had enjoyed a blissfully happy first year of marriage. She still wondered why it had taken her such a very long time to realise that Rafaello adored her. He had shown her his love in Corfu those first weeks they had been together, shown her in so many ways while her father was ill, but her own low self-esteem had blinded her to what she was seeing. In the same way, the strength of her love had enabled her to respect the sacrifice her mother had made in giving up Rafaello’s father for the sake of their respective families. And she finally understood all the harshly offered moral principles which her parent had endeavoured to instil in her daughter. Giving way to her own passion for Benito Grazzini had ultimately caused Talitha Little great unhappiness, and she had undoubtedly wanted to protect Glory from making a similar mistake.
‘Lorenzo’s not asleep already, is he?’ Rafaello demanded in disappointment as he strode into the nursery and sprang Glory from her thoughts.
She watched her tall, dark and undeniably gorgeous husband stare down ruefully into the cot where his baby son was indeed sound asleep, long lashes lying smooth on his peaceful little face.
‘You were on the phone to Benito for ages,’ Glory reminded him.
‘I don’t get enough time to play with our son,’ Rafaello lamented. ‘He’s out like a light every night by eight. I thought babies were supposed to be night owls—’
‘We don’t want him to be a night owl,’ Glory assured her husband, trying not to laugh at the tenor of his complaint. ‘I don’t think you’d be too pleased if he was crying in the middle of the night.’
Rafaello processed that alternative option and gave her a sizzling smile of comprehension that warmed her cheeks. ‘As always where our son is concerned, you are right, bella mia. Such a shame that you never got to use all that knowledge you acquired reading at least a thousand magazines on what to do with a crying baby. By the end of our honeymoon, I knew more about babies than ninety-nine out of a hundred first-time fathers-to-be and we had hit every baby shop in Tuscany at least twice—’
‘Stop teasing me,’ Glory warned him, rather embarrassed by the reminder of how obsessive she had been in those pursuits during her pregnancy. ‘Why were you on the phone so long to your father?’
‘Benito has volunteered to become chairman of a charity for the homeless—’
Glory struggled not to smile. Sam’s social conscience had evidently stretched to enclose his birth father. ‘That’s good news, isn’t it?’