Rose Red (28 page)

They tore at each other’s clothes until all
their garments lay mingled together on the fir needles of the
forest floor. Andrea reached down to spread out the discarded
clothes. Then he lifted Rosalinda, holding her against his heart as
he sank to his knees and laid her on the clothing.

“Rosalinda,” he whispered, making poetry of
her name, “I have dreamed of you every night. Rosalinda, my
beautiful, blushing rose, why are your cheeks so red? Surely, you
are not embarrassed? I have seen you unclothed before.”

“That was by the light of one candle,” she
said. “Now I can see all of you very clearly, and you can see
me.”

“I see beauty, and the warmest, kindest heart
I have ever known.”

“And I see my own dear bear,” she whispered
with a tender smile. “But I am sure you have grown since that
night. I do not remember that part of you as being quite so
large.”

“Perhaps,” he said with a knowing look, “you
do not remember because that part of me was buried deep in you for
most of our time together, so you could not see it.”

“I don’t think you should say things like
that.” She was shocked and yet excited by the memory his words
conjured.

“No? Then I will let my actions speak what
you will not permit me to say.” His fingertips found her nipples
and teased, gently pulling, circling, creating spirals of warmth
that moved downward and deeper, into the very core of Rosalinda’s
being. She shifted her legs and moved her hips, squirming under his
attentions, restless for more, and still more. Her awareness of the
rest of the world began to slip away, leaving her enclosed in a
stand of fir trees, their trunks long and straight, their fallen
needles fragrant beneath her.

She heard the birds chirping, saw the fir
branches swaying, and then the area within her comprehension
contracted further still, including only the man who caressed her
with eager hands, whose breath was ragged, whose manhood, as hard
and straight as a tree trunk, pushed against her, filled her, sent
her soaring among the highest green boughs. Andrea’s lips fastened
on hers and would not let go. He thrust his tongue into her mouth
again and again, matching each thrust of that other part of him
until Rosalinda cried out even as he did, becoming one with him,
accepting the scalding offering of his passion and returning it to
him with all the love she had to give.

They lay joined for a long time, Andrea still
buried within her, Rosalinda wrapped around him with arms and legs
and the twining hair he had loosened from her braid.

“I could not wait until later,” he whispered
in her ear.

“I did not want you to wait,” she whispered
back. “At the first moment I recognized you, this was what I
wanted, too.

“There is so much I ought to tell you,” she
said when Andrea finally lay on his back staring up at the trees
and she lay curled against him with her head on his chest.

“Tell me later,” he murmured. “For this one
peaceful hour, let me forget everything but you, and how happy I am
to see you again.”

“Will you visit Villa Serenita today?” she
asked, unable to let all of her news wait.

“It’s where I was going when I met you. There
is a surprise awaiting you at the villa.”

“I look forward to it, but meeting you here
was the best surprise.” He rolled over, pinning her beneath
him.

“Actually, there are two surprises. And
something important that I need to tell you.”

“I tremble to imagine what your mother has in
store for me,” he teased, nibbling at her earlobe as he spoke.

“You are going to like the surprises very
much.” She wished she could be sure he would like what she had to
tell him as much as he would enjoy seeing his brother and Francesco
alive and well. Determined to be completely honest with him, she
opened her lips to speak about the child she was certain she was
carrying. Once again, he prevented her.

“Wench, will you be quiet?” he said, still
teasing her. “For the next hour, I don’t want to think about
anything but Rosalinda and Andrea.”

“You are going to be so excited,” she
said.

“Thanks to the way you are wiggling around
beneath me, I am already excited.” He demonstrated that he was
speaking only the truth. “Stop talking and kiss me.”

“You are a hard man, Andrea.” Rosalinda
choked back a giggle.

“And growing harder by the moment,” he
observed. “It has become obvious to me that the only way to keep
you quiet is by torturing you into silence. Now, where shall I
begin?”

“Do you actually expect me to assist you in
this painful endeavor?” she demanded in mock resistance.

“I intend to extract your full cooperation,”
he threatened, placing himself at the entrance to her body. “Nor
will I be satisfied until you scream for mercy.”

“Cruel, lustful man,” she gasped as he surged
into her.

“Dangerous, seductive woman,” he groaned,
pushing deeper still.

A short time later Rosalinda did scream, but
not for mercy and, to her delight, Andrea’s cries were even louder
than her own.

* * * * *

The shadows were growing long and purple
across the little valley before Andrea tenderly picked the leaves
and fir needles out of Rosalinda’s hair and helped her to
dress.

“I suppose we have no choice but to ride to
the villa,” he murmured, putting his arms around her as if he could
not bear to let her go. “I do not think we will have much time
alone together once your mother sees me and begins asking questions
about how well I have followed her orders. Let us savor these last
few moments of peace.” He held her close for a long while, and
Rosalinda did not protest.

They rode
toward Villa Serenita side by side until the path became too
narrow. Then Rosalinda rode behind him and Andrea turned in his
saddle every few minutes to smile at her. Rosalinda always smiled
back, but her mind was busy. There were so many questions she
wanted to ask Andrea, yet she had asked none of them…any more than
Bianca had asked the important questions of Vanni. Like her sister,
Rosalinda had accepted her lover’s attentions, had given herself to
him, and had postponed all questions, all doubts, all explanations,
until later. In light of what she had done on this sunny afternoon,
Rosalinda began to think of Bianca’s behavior with Vanni less as a
betrayal and more as a foolish lapse brought on by
passion.

When they came down into the lowlands and had
space to ride together again, Rosalinda moved her horse to Andrea’s
side. He welcomed her presence with another of those warm smiles
that delighted her heart. Then, seeing her face, he turned as
serious as she was.

“I want you to be prepared,” she said. “So
much has happened since you left. There are things you ought to
know before we reach the villa, including the nature of those
surprises I mentioned earlier, and a few less pleasant events.”

“Tell me,” Andrea ordered, speaking in the
brisk, clipped fashion of a military commander. In his voice and
face Rosalinda saw again the new toughness she had noticed on first
meeting him, before passion and tenderness had overtaken them both.
The alteration only enhanced the attraction of this man who, in
many ways, remained a mystery to her.

“The bad news first,” she said, pulling her
thoughts away from all the things she still did not know about
Andrea. “Niccolo Stregone has been here.” Matching her speech to
his own brevity, she told him about her two meetings with Stregone.
Andrea listened with a set face, saying nothing, but Rosalinda
sensed the building anger in him.

“The other news is far happier, with only one
discordant note to it,” Rosalinda went on.

“After the last tidbit, I will be glad of
good news,” Andrea said, “but tell me about that discordant note
first.”

“I cannot tell you the one without revealing
the other. Bianca and I are at odds because she betrayed me with
your brother, thinking he was you.”

‘‘What?” Andrea reined in hard to stare at
her. A joyous smile spread across his face. “The rumors I heard are
true? Vanni is alive? Why didn’t you tell me before this?”

“I did try,” she reminded him. “You would not
hear a word. You wanted to make love.”

“So I did. Am I to assume from your shocking
statement that Vanni and Bianca have also made love?”

“
She says
not – or at least, not completely, whatever that means.”

“I can imagine what it means. Vanni is a
formidable seducer when he puts his mind to it. Poor Bianca was
probably overwhelmed by his charm.”

“Andrea, she did this thing thinking Vanni
was you! And you never told me that you and your brother are
twins,” Rosalinda ended on an accusing note.

“When I mentioned him to you, I thought Vanni
was dead. It was all I could do to speak of him. The grief was too
deep for words.” He grinned at her, that grief forgotten. “I trust
Bianca has sorted us out, so she knows one brother from the other
by now. I would rather be embraced by the sister with whom I am
more familiar.”

“This isn’t funny,” Rosalinda exclaimed.

“No, it isn’t funny, it’s miraculous!” he
cried. “It is the most wonderful news I could hear. The world is
set right again. Rosalinda, my brother is alive! Vanni is
alive!”

“He was pleased to learn you are alive, too,”
Rosalinda said. “Andrea, there is more. Francesco Bastiani is with
him. They are both staying at the villa.”

“Thank God! Rosalinda, you could give me no
happier surprise than this.” Andrea threw back his head and let out
a shout of joy followed by a burst of laughter. “Do you know what
this means?”

“What does it mean, Andrea?” Rosalinda had
never seen Andrea so exuberant and yet, for all his open delight in
the news she had given him, still there was that new toughness
about him. She knew she ought to tell him her other piece of
important news, that she was becoming more convinced every day that
she was carrying his child, but she decided to wait. She would give
him a chance to adjust to having Vanni back again, and then she
would tell him. His next words confirmed her in her decision.

“Vanni, Francesco, and I will conquer Aullia
and Monteferro together,” Andrea exalted. “I shall have you, my
wonderful Rosalinda, and if Vanni wants Bianca, your mother will
not dare to refuse him. My brother and I will have all that we
want, your mother’s wildest ambitions will be realized, and, as for
Stregone, I promise you, he will pay for putting you into danger to
rescue him from the river, and he’ll pay again for frightening you
by the waterfall. Stregone will pay for every wicked crime he has
ever committed.”

“You leave me breathless,” she said, startled
by his manner as much as by his ambitious promises. “Andrea, I have
never seen you like this.”

“Because I have never been like this. Today I
am the happiest of men. Just think, Rosalinda! For almost a year, I
have believed my brother dead, but he is alive. He is here, just a
few miles away, and I will see him before the sun sets. And my dear
friend, Francesco, too. And you love me, my beautiful Rosalinda.
You told me you do, not an hour ago, while you lay in my arms. What
more could any man ask than one true woman to love him, a beloved
brother by his side, and an honest friend?”

“What more, indeed?” Rosalinda murmured,
unwilling to break into his joyful mood with her own concerns.
“Except, perhaps, the answers to a few dozen nagging
questions?”

At the villa, Bianca and Vanni were on the
terrace. Bianca held a basket of flowers that Vanni had been
helping her to gather. The looks they gave each other and the
smiles and low words they exchanged openly proclaimed the tender
affection between the two.

Rosalinda and Andrea entered the garden by
the path from the stable. Andrea stopped at the sight of his
brother, leaving Rosalinda to walk on for a few steps before she
realized he was no longer with her. When she turned to him, the
expression on Andrea’s face brought tears to her eyes.

“Some part of me did not dare to believe your
news until I saw him alive,” Andrea whispered. He held his
saddlebag slung over one arm. Setting it down and opening the flap,
he began to grope inside until he located what he wanted and pulled
it forth. Rosalinda saw a flash of blue enamel and gold and
recognized Vanni’s dagger. Andrea strode forward.

“Vanni, that is a puny knife you are using to
cut those flowers,” Andrea called. “I have a better one for you.”
He held out the dagger, hilt first.

“Andrea!” Vanni leapt off the terrace,
jumping across all of the steps and falling into Andrea’s arms. So
impetuous was Vanni’s embrace that Rosalinda grabbed the dagger out
of Andrea’s hand just in time to prevent an accident. Vanni did not
notice. He was laughing and weeping at the same time and pounding
Andrea on the back. Andrea’s eyes were moist, his joy only slightly
more restrained than his brother’s.

The two of them made so much noise that
Valeria looked out the sitting room door to see what was happening.
She disappeared at once, only to reappear a short time later with
Eleonora, Francesco, and Bartolomeo.

“
Francesco!” Andrea left his brother and ran up the steps
onto the terrace, where his
condottiere
friend enfolded him in a tight bear
hug.

Rosalinda and Vanni followed Andrea to the
terrace. While the three men embraced again and talked excitedly
with Bartolomeo and Eleonora, Bianca approached Rosalinda.

“How happy they are,” Bianca said. “I wish
all brothers and sisters could live together in peace and take such
pleasure in each other’s company.”

“So do I.” Rosalinda slipped her arm around
Bianca’s waist in the old, familiar gesture, not minding the basket
of flowers Bianca still held, wanting only to let her sister know
of her abiding affection in spite of their recent differences.
“Perhaps, in time, you and I will regain that pleasure.”