Michael inclined his head. ‘And what would you have me do?’
‘Take the rest of the fleet back to Rome. Stay there until I return if you will, Michael. I shall be a week or so behind you. When I come, we shall discuss the future.’
‘Is it in your mind to change things?’
‘I am not yet certain of my plans. I will know more when I have spoken to Lord Mountfitchet. I may return to England, at least for a while.’
‘Return to England?’ Michael looked puzzled. ‘Was that country once your home?’
‘Did I say that?’ Lorenzo frowned. ‘I meant that I might take Kathryn to her home for a visit.’
He spoke with Michael for a little longer, and then they parted company. He was thoughtful as he gave the order to the stricken galleys. It would be safer if they travelled as a group, for they were vulnerable. However, his own galley was not damaged and he would be their escort to Sicily. And then…
What did he expect to learn from Lord Mountfitchet? Lorenzo was uncertain, but his dream had haunted him for a while now. In it he saw two young people on a beach. The youth told the girl to run and fetch help while he fought the men who sought to capture them…and there was also a picture of a house and a man the youth had called father. There were other things coming to him now, things that seemed so real that he could not think them dreams, and yet he was afraid to call them memories.
Was it possible that Charles Mountfitchet was his father? Or had Lorenzo simply taken things that Kathryn had told him and made something from them? Were these flashes that came into his mind at times true memories or merely imagination? It seemed unlikely that he could be Richard Mountfitchet, and yet of late something had been telling him that he must speak of his thoughts.
Kathryn would be waiting for him in Rome, but it would mean a delay of no more than a week or so, and he had a feeling that it was important for both of them that he should speak to Charles.
Kathryn was in the garden, picking flowers to take into the house, when she heard the ring of booted steps behind her and turned eagerly. Her heart took a flying leap as she saw her visitor.
‘Michael!’ she cried joyfully. ‘I am so glad to see you back. Are you well? Is Lorenzo with you?’
‘I am well,’ he told her. ‘I thank you for you inquiry, Kathryn—and I am happy to tell you that Lorenzo was well when I last saw him. He escorted some of our wounded galleys to Sicily, for they needed urgent repairs and were vulnerable. I believe that he intended to speak to Lord Mountfitchet before returning to Rome.’
‘I had a letter from Lady Mary only yesterday,’ Kathryn said. ‘They have found land and a house in Sicily that suits them and they think they may stay there. It was Lord Mountfitchet’s intention to speak with Lorenzo and ask for his advice, so it may suit him if Lorenzo calls there to see him.’
‘Lorenzo has asked me to remain in Rome until his return.’ Michael frowned. ‘I think it is in his mind to take a trip to England, though he said his plans were not yet formed.’
‘Yes, he did speak of making changes,’ Kathryn said. ‘I think he believes that it will no longer be necessary to have so many galleys to protect his ships in future, but we must wait and see what he decides.’
‘Yes, of course. If you will excuse me now, I have other calls to make.’
‘Will you dine with me this evening?’ Kathryn asked. ‘I have invited Elizabeta, her husband, Paolo, Isabella and her father and a few others. We should be pleased to have you join us. Perhaps you could tell us more of the battle, for we hear so many conflicting stories. It would be good to hear from someone who was there.’
‘I should be delighted to do so,’ Michael said, hesitated, and then added, ‘It is in my mind that I might ask Isabella Rinaldi to marry me.’ His cheeks became slightly pink. ‘My father is most insistent that I take a wife. I have resisted it, for it would mean that I should have to change the way I lead my life. Perhaps, if Lorenzo intends to make changes, it is time I did so also.’ He looked at her oddly. ‘Do you think there is a chance that Isabella would look kindly on an offer from me?’
‘I do not know,’ Kathryn said. ‘But I think she likes you.’
He nodded and smiled. ‘Then I shall think seriously about making the offer. I shall see you this evening, Kathryn.’
‘We shall look forward to having you with us.’
Kathryn stood for a while after he had gone, a rosebud in her hand. She would be pleased if Lorenzo was serious about taking her home, for she would be glad to see her father. But she was not sure that she would wish to make her home there for she was happy here in Rome.
She had written to her father many months ago to tell him of her marriage and assure him that she was well, but there had been no reply. At first she had thought that he must be too busy to write to her or that he was perhaps angry she had married without consulting him, but now she had begun to wonder if he had received her letter. It was strange that there had been no reply of any kind.
‘It is good to see you again,’ Charles said, offering his hand to Lorenzo. ‘My sister wrote to Kathryn some weeks back, telling her that we were thinking of staying here in Sicily. We have found land we like, and a house—but I wanted your advice before I made the purchase.’
‘It is one choice,’ Lorenzo agreed. ‘I believe it might be a good idea to buy land here, and establish vineyards of your own, but I thought you might consider living in Rome or Venice. I have plans to expand my wine-growing business, and perhaps to concentrate the shipping to England, Germany and France, where I have contacts. It was in my mind to ask whether you might consider being my partner? My business is expanding and I have plans to ship wines to more countries than before—but I shall need someone I can trust to help me in this venture.’
‘Your partner?’ Charles was surprised, but enormously pleased with the idea. ‘I think I might, sir. Yes, I think I might. Had my son lived, I should have been content to sit back and let him take over my interests, but…’ He sighed and shrugged his shoulders. ‘I have reluctantly accepted that I may never see him again. And I am not sure that I would ever wish to return to England. I find the climate here suits me better. My only wish is that I might find some trace of my son.’
‘He may be nearer than you think,’ Lorenzo said, a sudden croak in his voice. ‘Would you mind answering a few questions concerning Richard?’
Charles looked at him eagerly. ‘Have you discovered something?’
‘I am not sure. It may be nothing—but did you give your son a sword on his seventh birthday and tell him that it was time he learned to be a man?’
Charles looked shocked. ‘I cannot remember if he was seven or eight—but it is true that I gave my son a sword on his birthday and I may have told him some such thing.’
‘Tell me about the house you lived in then—has it a tower and a moat? Is there a room filled with armour from past times, and did Richard like to spend hours there?’
‘Yes, all that you say is true,’ Charles said and looked at him intently. ‘Richard liked one suit of armour particularly. My father wore it at the battle of—’
‘When Henry VIII met Francis I on the Field of Cloth of Gold, and your father rode with Henry that day.’ Lorenzo’s eyes narrowed. ‘And did your son have an unusual pet—one that you did not approve of?’
‘A pet…’ Charles wrinkled his brow in thought for a moment and then laughed. ‘Good Lord, yes! I had almost forgot. He brought home a wretched fox cub and…’ His voice died away as he saw the look in Lorenzo’s eyes. ‘What happened then?’
‘He took it up to his room and fed it with food he had stolen from the kitchens, and you found out and beat him for it…’
‘I