The Juliet Club (25 page)

Somehow, the maze seemed more mysterious, more frightening than it had in the daylight, as if she could vanish into another world and be lost forever once she entered it.

But this was exactly the kind of moment, she thought, where a clear, rational mind was such an asset. Obviously this was merely an elaborate system of hedges, planted to entertain and amuse. Obviously there was nothing magical about it. Obviously she would not be spirited to another world, because there was just one world, this world, and she was firmly rooted in it.

She gave a brisk little nod of satisfaction as she worked that out in her mind. And then she stepped through the leafy opening and began walking. This time, she kept her right hand on the hedge and let it guide her as she walked, then ran, along the twisting path. Finally she burst into a clearing and stopped; her eyes closed as a wave of dizziness swept over her. After several deep breaths, she opened her eyes to see Shakespeare smiling down at her in the moonlight, and Kate realized that she had finally made it to the center of the maze.

It was an unusual portrayal of Shakespeare. He was young, for one thing, not the pudgy, balding man whose bust sat above his grave. He was caught in the act of taking a step, perhaps the first step of his first journey to London, before he knew what he would become. There was an air of expectation in his posture, a lively and interested expression on his face, a quill stuck jauntily over his ear, and an overall attitude of good humor, as if he found the world and all the people in it completely to his liking.

She made a face at him. “This is all
your
fault, you know,” she whispered.

“Well met by moonlight, kind Kate.” Giacomo stepped out of the shadows.

Kate turned her head at the sound of his voice, but stood absolutely still. In the darkness, she looked like a statue herself. “That's not the quote.”

“Yes, I know, I was just—” He took a deep breath. “So. Here we are. In the center of the maze after all.” Giacomo nodded toward the statue, but kept his eyes on her as he added lightly, “How did that happen?”

“I don't know!” Kate snapped. “I hate this maze! Every time I try to get anywhere I end up someplace else!”

Giacomo chuckled. “You sound just like Lucy.”

She glared at him. “Well, if you want to be with her so much, why don't you just go back to the party?”

“What?” He frowned. “I
don't
want to be with her. Why in the world would you think that?”

She stopped and turned to face him. “Because you're in love with her.”

“With
Lucy
?”

He saw a moment of doubt in her face, then her expression hardened.

“Oh, please,” she said. “I saw the letter.”

Giacomo shook his head slightly in confusion. “What letter?”

Kate raised one cynical eyebrow. “The one that quoted your favorite sonnet. The one that swore undying love. The one that was written in
your own handwriting
.” She stared at him challengingly. “
That
letter.”

His brow cleared. Ah, yes, of course, Benno's letter! An understandable mistake, and an easy remedy. “I can explain that.”

“I'm sure you can,” she said in an acidly sweet voice.

Giacomo felt a flare of resentment, which he quickly tamped down. “As a matter of fact,” he said coolly, “I wrote it for Benno.
He's
the one who's fallen for Lucy. Not me.”

He crossed his arms and stared back at her, satisfied to see her hesitate.

“You wrote it for Benno,” she repeated. “Benno?
He's
in love with Lucy?”

“As I said.” He waited, smug in the knowledge that he was, for once, completely in the right.

She eyed him warily. “But you were always paying her compliments—”

“Yes, that's what I do.”

“You laughed at everything she said—”

“It's Lucy! How can one help but laugh?”

She gave him a narrow glance. “You couldn't keep your eyes off her!”

He made an exasperated gesture. “Kate! She's pretty, she's sweet, she's adorable, but . . . Lucy? Please! I was just flirting!” He smiled at her, his most charming smile. “It didn't
mean
anything.”

She tilted her head to one side and gave him a long, thoughtful look.

“It was just a game, then,” she said.

“Exactly,” he replied, pleased to have made his point.

She nodded. “So when you were flirting with
me—
”

Too late, he saw his mistake. “A game that you played as well,” he pointed out quickly. “And that's not the same thing at all, because—”

“I'm sure.” She cut him off. “Well, now that we've got that cleared up, let's go back to the party. This is my last night in Italy, after all.”

As she turned to go, her long skirt swirling around her ankles, Giacomo felt his heartbeat quicken.

She was leaving. Tomorrow.

“Wait.” He blocked her way.

He had said good-bye to a lot of girls. It had never made him unhappy.

“Why?” She pulled away.

“Because this is our last night,” he began, then stopped when he realized she wasn't listening.

Instead, she was pacing around the grassy enclosure, muttering to herself. “After everything that happened, I can't believe I actually fell—”

She stopped.

“What?” He moved in front of her, his gaze intent.

Kate lifted her chin to meet his eyes, but she didn't answer.

He prompted her. “You can't believe you fell . . .”

“For your act,” she snapped.

He felt a wave of anger wash over him. “It wasn't an
act
, it was—”

He stopped.

“What?”

Tell her the truth, Giacomo
. He imagined Rosaline's voice, whispering in his ear.

He opened his mouth to speak but, at that moment, someone opened a door at the villa, releasing a swell of laughter and music. Kate turned in the direction of the noise, and there was something about the interested tilt of her head and the sight of her profile, pale against the green darkness, that silenced him.

Then the door closed. The music was snuffed out like a candle. The moment was gone.

She turned her attention back to him. “You were about to say?”

But he had no idea what he would have said; in fact, he didn't have a single useful thought in his head. So he shrugged and fell back on what he knew. “Doubt thou the stars are fire, doubt that the sun doth move, doubt truth to be a liar, but never doubt—”

“Stop it!” she said. “Honestly, Giacomo, do you ever just say what you mean, without
quoting
all the time?”

“Fine,” he said, his own voice rising to match hers. “You are the most maddening girl I have ever known. No”—he corrected himself—“you are the most maddening
person
. I'm including everyone, male
and
female, that I have ever met in my entire life! You're irritating and argumentative. And so, of
course,
” he finished with irritation, “
you're
the one I had to fall in love with.”

“You . . . what did you say?”

He glared at her. “I said I love you.”

An uncertain look flashed across her face and was gone. She curled her lip. “Right. I'm sure you've never said
that
before.”

“Well.” He considered this. “Well, I've never
meant
it.”

For a long moment, Kate stood frozen.

Then she picked up her skirts and spun around, running away from him. He went after her, slipping on the grass and cursing under his breath as he imagined her slipping into the maze, lost to him forever. . . .

At the last moment, he caught her arm and pulled her back.

“Let me
go.
” She used the momentum to whirl around and push him, and he stumbled backward. He was still holding on to Kate, though, so she lost her balance and they both fell hard to the ground.

All the breath left his body. She had landed on top of him, her elbow slamming into his stomach.

Giacomo felt the cool grass beneath his head as he gasped for air.

“Are you all right?” Kate's face hovered over his, silhouetted against the starry sky. She pushed herself off him, her hands on the ground on either side of his head. “Giacomo?”

He shook his head. He couldn't speak.

“I'm sorry,” she said.

He closed his eyes with relief as air finally rushed into his lungs.

“Giacomo?”

He didn't say anything. He was enjoying the novelty of breathing too much to talk.

She watched him for a moment. Then she asked softly, “Do you mean it now?”

He reached for her hand and put it on his heart.

She could feel it, thudding beneath her fingers.

Giacomo smiled up at her with the same question in his eyes. So Kate answered it with a kiss.

Epilogue

Kate and Giacomo stood hand in hand on the terrace in front of the ballroom windows, which glowed with light and color in the darkness. The music spilled out into the hushed night, a lively tune that had Kate's toes tapping under her silk gown.

Then she caught sight of herself in the window, her short curls shining in the moonlight, her face lit with happiness. She blinked in surprise. She looked so different that she almost didn't recognize herself, and she seemed to hear the echo of Annie's voice, saying, “You will be
transformed
!”

In the reflection, Giacomo's eyes met hers.

“We should go inside,” he said, “if we want to dance.”

“I know,” she said, but still she lingered, watching as the musicians started another song and a new dance began.

First, Tom and Silvia spun by, and Kate raised her eyebrows in surprise. Tom was leading Silvia with the confidence of a prince, while Silvia looked stunned, caught somewhere between delight and disbelief.

Then Lucy and Benno whirled past. Kate smiled to see Lucy shining with happiness and Benno dancing with a grace that seemed to amaze everyone, especially him.

And finally, Giacomo's mother and Kate's father swept grandly into view. Kate gasped at the sight of them, beaming at each other as if there was no one else in the room.

For one long, astonished moment, she simply stared at the scene in front of her. Then she burst out laughing.

“What is the joke?” Giacomo asked.

“I was just remembering something I was once told.”

He gave her a questioning look, so she quoted, “Given enough time, even the impossible becomes possible.” She nodded toward the dancers, who were circling the room once more. “It's a law of nature, apparently.”

“Ah, yes?” Puzzled, he turned to gaze through the windows. Then comprehension dawned on his face, and he smiled down at her.

“Ah,” he said, “Yes.”

Sarah enjoyed wearing her new black suede boots with the silver buckles. She enjoyed it very much indeed.

Author's Note

The Juliet Club (or Il Club di Giulietta, as it's known in Italy) was founded in Verona in 1972. Since then, the club has received thousands of letters every year from people of all ages around the world. The letters, which are all answered by volunteers, usually ask for love advice. Sometimes, however, they simply tell the letter writer's own love story.

To learn more about the Juliet Club, visit the Web site at www.julietclub.com.

If you'd like to write to Juliet, send your letter to:

Club di Giulietta

Via Galilei, 3

1-37133 Verona

Italy

About the Author

SUZANNE HARPER
researched for
The Juliet Club
by studying Shakespeare, stage sword fighting, Elizabethan dance, and Italian. She also visited Juliet's House in Verona, Italy, and spoke to volunteers at the real-life Juliet Club. She is the author of
The Secret Life of Sparrow Delaney
and has also written four nonfiction books, numerous newspaper and magazine articles, and several plays. She earned degrees in English and journalism from the University of Texas at Austin and a master's degree in writing from the University of Southern California. Suzanne Harper lives in New York City.

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www.AuthorTracker.com
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Credits

Cover art © 2010 by Fancy Photography/Veer
Cover design by Paul Zakris

Copyright

I would like to gratefully acknowledge and thank Giulio Tamassia, who was delegated president of Il Club di Giulietta (the Juliet Club) by the mayor of Verona, and Juliet's secretaries (especially Elena Marchi). They welcomed me to Verona, answered dozens of questions, shared letters from their files, and in many other ways gave generously of their time as I was researching this book. I would also like to thank Lois Adams, Deborah Barnes, Bill Boedeker, Laaren Brown, Chris Ceraso, Sarah Cloots, Virginia Duncan, Steve Geck, Bretta Lundell, Martha Mihalick, Anneclaire Nelson, Dan Renkin, Barbara Trueson, Mitchell Waters, and Paul Zakris for their support and help.

This book is a work of fiction. References to real people, events, establishments, organizations, or locales are intended only to provide a sense of authenticity, and are used to advance the fictional narrative. All other characters, and all incidents and dialogue, are drawn from the author's imagination and are not to be construed as real.

The Juliet Club
Copyright © 2008 by Suzanne Harper
All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the nonexclusive, nontransferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse-engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins e-books.

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

Harper, Suzanne.
The Juliet club / by Suzanne Harper.
p. cm. “Greenwillow Books.”
Summary: When high school junior Kate wins an essay contest that sends her to Verona, Italy, to study Shakespeare's “Romeo and Juliet” over the summer, she meets both American and Italian students and learns not just about Shakespeare, but also about star-crossed lovers—and herself.
ISBN 978-0-06-136691-8 (trade bdg.) — ISBN 978-0-06-136692-5 (lib. bdg.) — ISBN 978-0-06-136693-2 (pbk.)
[1. Interpersonal relations—Fiction. 2. Shakespeare, William, 1564–1616 Romeo and Juliet—Fiction. 3. Letters—Fiction. 4. Verona (Italy)—Fiction. 5. Italy—Fiction.] I. Title.
PZ7.H23197Ju 2008 [Fic]—dc22 2007041315

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EPub Edition © MARCH 2012 ISBN: 9780062215260