Georgia and Luciano were not allowed to visit the hospital, though they had tried. The Duke kept fierce watch over his son. So instead they talked in Paolo's kitchen, Georgia telling Luciano everything she knew about how the Talian was faring in London.

And he was blooming. Georgia was a regular visitor at the Mulhollands' now, which no one found odd, since she had been the first to discover the boy. It was very difficult to remember to call him Nicholas, though. He, however, was adapting well to his new ident.i.ty. The Mulhollands had bought him some clothes and he even used some old ones that Lucien had grown out of but not thrown away. It made Georgia jump the first time she saw him in the grey hooded sweatshirt that Lucien had worn the first time she set eyes on him.

She had introduced him to Alice, who was intrigued by her friendship with the younger boy.

'I suppose you feel responsible, since you found him,' said Alice.

'You're right there,' said Georgia. 'Responsible is exactly what I feel.'

Falco visited her house too and she even took him to the stables when she went riding on Sat.u.r.day, since it was one of the times when Maura drove her. Fortunately, Maura didn't think there was anything wrong with the lost boy being friends with her daughter, now that the question of his fostering had been sorted out, and she also had hopes of the contact with horses being therapeutic for him.

'Perhaps it will jog his memory about his accident?' she suggested to Georgia.

Falco was ecstatic at being around horses again. This was something he could fully understand about his new life. Although he couldn't ride, Jean showed him round the stables while Georgia was out on her lesson, introducing him to all the horses who weren't in use. He was especially drawn to a black mare named Blackbird.

'Do you think I could come here and ride her when I've had my operation, Mrs O'Grady?' he asked Maura.

'Well, not straightaway,' said Maura. 'You know you'll have to be in plaster for six weeks. But when you've recovered, we'll talk to your foster-parents about riding lessons.'

'We'd love to have you,' said Jean, though privately she couldn't imagine that this damaged boy would ever be fit to ride again.

When Georgia got to Remora the morning after the d.u.c.h.essa's arrival, she found a stranger in the kitchen. A very elegant middle-aged woman, with a veil, was talking to Doctor Dethridge and it was clear that they were old friends. A gangly red-haired young man, apparently the woman's servant, stood behind her chair.

'Ah, my dere,' said Dethridge. 'Let me presente yow to Signora Bellini. Silvia, this is yonge George one of us.'

The stranger offered Georgia a cool, beautifully manicured hand and a piercing scrutiny.

'So,' she said. 'You are the new Stravagante. My ... Rodolfo said you were a girl.'

Georgia felt herself blushing. She had never felt so awkward in her coa.r.s.e Talian stable-boy's clothes as she did under this woman's violet gaze.

'Ah,' said Silvia. 'I see you are in disguise. Very wise in this city. I should perhaps adopt the same stratagem. Although in a manner of speaking I already have.'

Georgia's mind was racing, trying to work out where this obviously important woman fitted into the pattern. Had she really said 'my Rodolfo'? Who would have the right to such intimacy with the great man? And why did she need a disguise?

At that moment Luciano, Paolo and Cesare came back from the racetrack. It had started to rain and the going was slippery. Cesare was anxious about it because today was the all-important laying of the earth for the racetrack round the Campo.

'It is just a shower,' his father rea.s.sured him. 'No doubt the track will be fine.'

'I see you have met Silvia,' Luciano said to Georgia, and she wondered again at his easy manner with the great people of Talia.

'When are you going to see Arianna?' asked Silvia, putting a question Georgia was interested in too.

'I don't know,' said Luciano.

There came a knock at the door and both the young Stravaganti jumped, though it was hardly likely that the d.u.c.h.essa of Bellezza would be visiting in the Twelfth of the Ram.

Paolo opened the door to a figure Georgia knew must be Rodolfo. In fact she recognised him as the stranger who had come to Lucien's funeral. A slightly stooped thin man with silvered hair and a distinguished look, he stepped into the room and clasped Paolo warmly in his arms. Dethridge too was embraced and then Luciano. The visitor looked long and searchingly into his face.

'It does my heart good to see you,' Georgia heard him say quietly and saw Luciano looking at his master with open devotion.

What am I doing here? she thought, feeling small and insignificant.

But then the tall man turned to her and took her hand. She found herself held by dark and steady eyes which seemed able to fathom her deepest secrets.

'You must be Georgia,' he said courteously. 'It is an honour to meet you.'

'Five Stravaganti in one room,' said a low voice. 'We should all be honoured.'

Now it was Rodolfo's turn to be disconcerted. To her astonishment, Georgia saw his calm demeanour completely ruffled, as the mysterious Silvia stepped forwards.

And then the two embraced. But it was not a Talian formality and suddenly Georgia knew who the woman was.

She saw that Luciano was smiling indulgently at the couple, who were still in each other's arms.

'I should be so angry with you,' said Rodolfo quietly. 'But how can I when it fills me with joy to find you here?'

'I think you had better re-introduce me to the young woman,' said Silvia.

'Georgia,' Rodolfo said, still holding the woman's hand in his, 'I should like you to meet my wife, Silvia Rossi, formerly d.u.c.h.essa of Bellezza and the mother of the present d.u.c.h.essa.'

In the Papal palace, Rinaldo di Chimici was having another uncomfortable audience with an uncle. This one was not as formidable as Duke Niccol, but Ferdinando was the Pope and Prince of Remora too.

'Marriage is a sacred inst.i.tution,' Ferdinando was saying, in his role as head of the Talian Church. 'It is not to be unmade lightly.'

'Indeed not, your Holiness,' said Rinaldo. 'But I must take some of the blame here. This marriage was perhaps made too lightly. It was I who arranged it.'

The Pope was perfectly aware of this and that his niece Francesca had been forced into it by Rinaldo, with the threat of Duke Niccol's displeasure hanging over her if she refused. But if the ploy had succeeded and Francesca had been elected d.u.c.h.essa of Bellezza, she would have found a way to tolerate her old Bellezzan husband, so the Pope was reluctant to let her escape now that the plan had foundered. It was his duty after all to uphold the sanct.i.ty of marriage.

'On what grounds does the young woman seek an annulment?' he asked now.

Rinaldo hesitated. If their uncle was referring to Francesca as 'the young woman', there was not much hope in playing the family loyalty card.

'She ... he ... I believe the marriage is unconsummated, your Holiness,' said Rinaldo horribly aware that he was blushing.

'After how long?'

'Nearly a year, your Holiness. And she does not love him.'

'Well, perhaps if she would let him in her bed, matters might improve,' said the Pope. 'A baby that would give her a reason to stay with her husband.'

Rinaldo very much did not want to have to mention that Francesca had been coerced into marrying Councillor Albani. He felt it did not show him in a good light, although this was very unfair. If Francesca had become d.u.c.h.essa, his own standing in the family would have been very much improved.

'If he is capable, Holiness,' he muttered now.

Ferdinando di Chimici was not a bad man. He was weak and self-indulgent but he didn't really want to see one of his nieces yoked to a man she didn't love, especially if there were to be no babies. Besides, he did not think that his brother the Duke would have any use for Albani now that the Bellezzan plot had failed. And it might be useful to have Francesca available for another dynastic union. Ferdinando would try to make sure she got a more appealing husband next time.

'Oh very well,' he said testily, gesturing for his clerk to write the necessary decree. He sank his signet ring with the symbols of the lily and the twins into the soft red wax and handed the doc.u.ment to Rinaldo. In that moment Francesca was a free woman.

In the Campo the rain had stopped, leaving the air fresh and clean. Bullock carts came in a stream, full of earth from the surrounding countryside, and teams of men spread it with rakes in a wide band encircling the Piazza. Other men were engaged in building wooden stages to house the most important spectators of the race, though the majority of Remorans would watch from inside the track.

The grandest stage was being erected in front of the Papal palace, but every house with a balcony overlooking the racetrack was already draped with banners in the colours of the Twelfth they supported. The whole Campo was ablaze with colour.

One person particularly enjoying the prospect of the race was Enrico. He was accepting bets on the outcome. The Twins and the Lady had the shortest odds of course, so members of their Twelfths did not stand to win much. Other Twelvers wanted to gamble on a win for their own horses and jockeys but sometimes had a small side bet on the two most likely Twelfths as well. Remorans were practical people.

But they did not like to be seen to be disloyal, so such bets had to be placed discreetly. Enrico became accustomed to wandering through all the Twelfths of the city. He carried a bag full of neckcloths of different colours so that he could change which one he wore according to which Twelfth of the city he was in. He regarded them merely as safe conducts, having no allegiance to any particular Twelfth.

He now spent his days in Remora, riding back up to Santa Fina every night to fly Merla. She was becoming accustomed to him and seemed not to mind letting him ride her while she flew. Enrico did not want to spend any more time than he had to up at the Casa di Chimici. What had happened to the boy up there had really unsettled him. He felt in a way as if he should have been able to stop it. Now he busied himself with his gambling venture to take his mind off the pale boy lying unconscious in the hospital. Of his patron and employer he saw nothing.

Arianna couldn't sleep. She stood on the balcony outside her room in the Papal palace. The Campo was filled with moonlight and shadows. All around the edge, little knots of people cl.u.s.tered round horses. Every now and again they would organise themselves into a start and then the horses galloped round the circular track three times sunwise. There was much laughter in the Campo and yet mystery too in seeing it so thronged with people in the middle of the night.

She was watching an odd sight when Rodolfo silently joined her on the balcony. A big powerful grey horse, most unlikely to run in the real Stellata, was carrying two people, a man and a woman. They were strangely dressed though the moonlight bleached the colours out of their clothes.

'Who are they?' asked Arianna, as the couple moved to the start-point.

'They look like Zinti,' said Rodolfo. 'The wandering people. They come here for the festival of the G.o.ddess. It happens on the same day as the race.'

They watched as another impromptu race began. The big grey won by a neck, carrying the two riders as easily as if they were one. As they dismounted and the woman led the man out of the Campo, Arianna gasped.

'He's blind!' she said.

'Zinti have more ways of seeing than other people,' said Rodolfo. 'Isn't it time you were asleep?'

'I couldn't,' she said. 'Do you think we were right to come here?'

'I think it will be perfectly safe, if that's what you mean,' said Rodolfo. 'Whatever the situation might have been before, I think Niccol is too distracted by his son's illness to arrange any kind of trouble.'

'What about the trouble he's already arranged?' asked Arianna.

'You mean Gaetano?' said Rodolfo. 'Is he giving you trouble?'

Arianna shrugged. 'It's been harder than I thought it would be. I really like him and now he's terribly upset about his little brother. It will be hard to refuse him.'

'You think his heart is in this courtship?'

Arianna was silent.

'I saw Luciano this morning,' said Rodolfo.

'How was he?' asked Arianna eagerly.

'Very anxious,' said Rodolfo. 'He wants to see you. But he doesn't want to come here. Duke Niccol has got it into his head that Luciano and the new Stravagante are involved in his son's suicide attempt.'

'But that's ridiculous!' said Arianna. 'Luciano wouldn't do that.'

'I thought that you might like to meet him somewhere neutral,' said Rodolfo. 'I've suggested to Gaetano that he should take us on a visit to Belle Vigne tomorrow. Luciano will meet us there.'

Georgia was finding it hard to fill her days in London. She spent a lot of time asleep, catching up on all the hours she lost in Remora. Already she was thinking, as Luciano had the summer before, that she wouldn't be able to keep it up when she went back to school in September. And that made her very sad. Talia would be an occasional treat, to see Cesare and his family. Luciano would surely go back to Bellezza with Arianna and Rodolfo after the race and she wouldn't be able to visit him there. Her talisman would only get her to Remora and you couldn't get to Bellezza and back in a day from there. Gaetano and his family would return to Giglia once Falco had died and the same applied to that city although it was closer than the City of Masks.

She had only a week left to enjoy her time in the Talian city with all her friends and enemies still there. Now that the Stravaganti were all together, at least all the ones she knew anything about, there was a feeling that a crisis was approaching. But Georgia didn't know what it was. Would it be because of danger threatening Luciano and her?

Georgia wasn't too afraid for herself; she could always stravagate back home as long as she had her talisman. But Luciano could be killed in Talia if Duke Niccol decided to avenge his son's death in that way. And then she would have lost him twice.

And then she would remember that Luciano had been captured before and his talisman taken from him; he had told her that story now. And if that happened to her, she would be as Falco was in Remora now, as Luciano had been when he was still Lucien and his parents had agreed to having the life support system switched off.

Such thoughts left her in a cold sweat and she became all the more impatient to get back to Remora and find out what was going on. She was dying to ask about the d.u.c.h.essa. If Silvia was the person Duke Niccol was supposed to have a.s.sa.s.sinated, what was she doing coolly turning up in Remora? And what was her daughter doing ruling Bellezza?

The Bellezzans' carriage was all ready to leave when Georgia next arrived in Remora.

'Get in,' said Luciano, waving. 'We're going to Belle Vigne.'

Dethridge was inside the carriage in a jovial mood.

'Well come, young George,' he said. 'We are going to paye a visit to the ruins of a Ra.s.senan settlemente. And mayhap we shalle fynde othires making the same journey!'

Luciano was smiling in his corner of the carriage and Georgia felt her heart sink.

And there indeed at Belle Vigne their carriage drew up next to one with the Giglian di Chimici crest on it the lily and the perfume bottle. As Georgia climbed up the gra.s.sy hill she had last seen with Gaetano and Falco, she made out some figures at the top. Rodolfo, Gaetano and a slim and elegant young woman who could only be the d.u.c.h.essa.

Georgia hung back at the top as Dethridge went forward to embrace Arianna. Luciano was right behind them but the greeting he gave the d.u.c.h.essa seemed a lot more formal and there was some constraint between them. Luciano nodded at Gaetano, then turned to draw Georgia into the group.

'And this is Giorgio,' he said.

Georgia was surprised that he used the male form of her name, then noticed that there was another member of the party. As she gave Arianna her hand, she was aware that Gaetano was introducing Dethridge and Luciano to his older brother, Fabrizio. But it was difficult to think of anything else while observed by those violet eyes. They were surrounded by a light turquoise silk mask, the first Georgia had ever seen in Talia, which perfectly matched the d.u.c.h.essa's elegant dress.

She had the same effect on Georgia that her mother had, making her feel awkward and clumsy. But she was friendly enough.

'Giorgio,' she said. 'I have heard much about you.'

'So have I,' said Fabrizio, coming forward to take Georgia's hand. He was like his father, much more so than Gaetano was. Tall and broad with black hair and a strong intelligent face, he looked every inch the Duke he would one day be. 'I hear you are very close to my brother Falco.'

'I am,' said Georgia. 'He was is a good friend.'

'And yet my father tells me you can shed no light on this terrible act of his?'

'I can only say what I have already told the Duke that Falco was depressed about his injuries.'

Gaetano came to her rescue. 'Leave the lad alone, Fabrizio,' he said. 'He can only tell you what you already know. Falco found his pain hard to bear that and his inactivity.'

'But these things he had lived with for two years,' protested Fabrizio, and Georgia could see he was really distressed. 'Why give up now?'

'Because Father had plans for him that he could not face perhaps?' said Gaetano quietly.