in his favorite gray velvet coat and tapestried vest, snow-white lace, and his heaviest sword, and went immediately to the Via del Corso, where his carriage came up alongside that of Christina and he slipped into her compartment as stealthily as he could.
She was a vision, and he set upon her, kissing her roughly, and would have taken her right there in the carriage if he could have persuaded her.
Her hair was warm, full of a cooked fragrance from the morning sun, and as she squinted ever so slightly, her dark lashes made her eyes seem all the more translucently blue and lovely. He touched the edge of her lashes with the insides of his fingers. He found himself in love with her slightly pouty and full lower lip.
But if he let it, the sadness would come over him again, and when he felt that, he stopped kissing her and just held her. He’d lifted her onto his lap; he cradled her in his right arm; her hair spilled down a shower of corn yellow over him and then her face took on that beguiling look of innocence and seriousness, generously mixed, and he said her name to her for the first time:
“Christina.” Mocking, he tried to say it as the English said it, the way she said it, making the sound a solid block, his face scowling, but then he couldn’t and he said it as an Italian, the tongue in the front of the mouth so that all the air passed through the syllables: it sang.
She laughed, the most mercurial laugh.
“You didn’t tell anyone I was there last night,” he demanded suddenly.
“No, but why shouldn’t I tell anyone?” she asked.
The little treble of her voice, demanding such respect, magnetized him. It was almost impossible to pay attention to her words.
“You’re young and foolish and don’t know the world, obviously,” he said. “I won’t leave you the worse for it. I couldn’t bear the thought of it. And you have no care for yourself.”
“And are you leaving me so soon?” she asked.
He felt himself stunned by the question; he wondered if his face betrayed his feeling. But he could concentrate on nothing now except that he was near her, holding her in his arms.
“Then let me frighten you away from me once and for all,” she said. “Let me tell you how little I care for the world.”
“Hmmmm…” He was trying desperately to listen. But she was too totally appetizing and the pertness with which she said her words was so especially delicious. Determination emanated from her as if she were really a human being and not some luscious creature, for surely she couldn’t be human, and such loveliness couldn’t harbor a brain.
No, this was nonsense, it was only that all of her was so inviting, and yet she was chirping so clearly and fiercely with intelligence.
“I don’t care what others think of me,” she was explaining. “I’ve been married. I was obedient. I did what I was told.”
“But to a man too old to remember his rights or privileges, I gather,” Tonio answered, “and you are young and you’re an heiress, and you can marry again.”
“I am not going to marry again,” she said, her eyes narrowing just a little as the sunlight flickered through the overhanging leaves. “Why must you say these things to me?” she asked with genuine curiosity. “Why is it difficult for you to understand that I want to be free and to paint, to have my studio, to have my life as I please?”
“Ah, you say this now,” he said, “but you may not say it later, and nothing will harm you more than indiscretion.”
“No.” She touched his lips with her fingers. “This is not indiscretion,” she said. “I love you. I have always loved you. I loved you from the first moment I saw you years ago, and you knew it. You knew it even then.”
“No.” He shook his head. “You loved what you saw on the stage, in the choir loft….”
She almost laughed. “I loved you, Tonio, and I love you now,” she said. “And there is no indiscretion in loving you, and it would not matter to me if there were.”
He bent forward to kiss her, believing her for the moment, the sweetness of her youth and innocence alchemized into something stronger and finer that he could feel when he held her.
But still he said softly, “I’m afraid for you. I don’t completely understand.”