I SPOKE OF LOVE : THE SECRET OF THE PENDANT

PROLOGUE III " AT LAST MY LOVE"

Amalia stepped out of the palace gate with a determined stride, her heart heavy with anguish. Alessandro held her arm, almost supporting her, and helped her into the carriage, gently stroking her long blonde hair. Instinctively, she looked up towards her mother's study window. A figure could be glimpsed behind the red brocade curtains. She asked the coachman to take them to the Valentino Park.

"What did you tell our mother?" Amalia asked, striving to keep her voice steady.

"The truth, my sister. I know you would do something rash. You are only nineteen, a Lady of the Queen, and Queen Victoria herself wants you at Court. I do not wish for a miserable end for you. Give me time!"

Amalia turned pale and let go of her brother's hand. She turned her head towards the window and dried her tears with her glove.

"You, brother, you..."

"Amalia, I did not tell you to leave Pietro. Listen to me, for heaven's sake. I only asked you to wait. Father is not well at all. When the time is right, with mother in Racconigi, I will make the decisions. The marriage with the Marquis is scheduled for a year from now. You go to our cousins and then to our uncles at Maryfield. I have written to Robert; he will take care of you. You must have patience."

"You are different from last night, brother. I thought your love for Michael would make you understand my love better!"

"Is that a threat, sister?" he growled, biting his lower lip.

"A threat, Alessandro! You are my brother, and I would never dream of harming you. I will not tell anyone, not even Pietro."

"Our mother knows of my... let us call it, burden. I preferred to tell her myself; at least I did not allow her to plot behind my back. Her claws reach beyond the Channel, and she would have destroyed me. If not me, then him. You know, sister, that it is a crime to love another man? A nobleman is destroyed morally and socially, and a poor wretch might survive a few years of hard labour if he can endure it. But now let us talk about you, not me. Right or wrong – and you know well that I find it unjust – I am a man, and mother knows that perfectly well and can do little against me."

"Hard labour, brother?"

"I heard at the Palazzo Carignano in a secret session that they intend to unify the penal laws; when and how I do not know yet. Still, we are creatures guilty of acts against nature and are not free to love even in private. If a servant denounces us... farewell love, sister."

"Love!" cried Amalia. "Love must always wait, how can you wait, brother?" Then she continued, kissing his forehead. "Forgive me, I had no idea."

"Sometimes, yes, I have to wait more than you, dear sister," exclaimed Alessandro, his voice trembling. "I know, sister, you live in your romantic world, read the English writers, enjoy the tormented loves, and are carried away by verses full of fire and passion; they teach you that love can uncover and change the world. No, my dear sister, let me play this game for you. Alone, you would end up crushed, not happy and smiling like an Austen heroine or a verse by Barrett."

"But love knows no limits, no end, no measure, no prayer truer than the broken heart," Amalia exclaimed in one breath, caressing her brother's hand.

"My sister, I understand the beauty of these words by Barrett. However, your romantic loves bring pain, not joy. Life is more complex than your poets, our life, dear sister, is decided at the Palace."

Alessandro held her tightly, feeling the warmth and tremor of her body through the fabric of their clothes. Yet, they felt observed. The carriage moved slowly, and the windows of the surrounding buildings seemed like curious eyes scrutinising their every movement, while the servants moved discreetly under the porticoes, apparently indifferent but always watchful.