34. A View from the Top

CHAPTER 34

A VIEW FROM THE TOP

M eanwhile, in the Prince of Biscari Gardens

“Are you quite sure we’re allowed to be here?” Tom asked as he, Randy, and David climbed a set of stairs surrounded by short hedges. “This looks like a private garden.”

“Signore Cavarallo said we could,” Randy stated. “Besides, it’s where Donald met Nikky.”

“That’s Nicoletta, Marchesa Montblanc, to you,” David stated, his gaze darting about to take in the scenery. “Mind your ankles. There’s a goose over there,” he added. Upon taking a few more steps up, he spotted why. A pond featuring a pair of swans and several more geese reflected the midday sun, the brightness forcing him to lift a hand to shade his eyes.

“Well, she’ll be Nikky to us if your brother does right by her,” Randy commented as he turned and surveyed the area around them. “This is quite the view,” he murmured.

“What do you mean, does right by her?” David asked. The last to finish the stairs, he joined his cousins to admire the scenic view of Baroque buildings and the Mediterranean sea.

“I may have overheard something I shouldn’t have,” Randy said between labored breaths. He turned and waved the others to follow him as he made his way along a footpath leading deeper into the botanical gardens—deeper and higher. The chirps and chatter of birds ceased as they moved along, as if their presence was suspicious.

“Eavesdropping, were you?” Tom asked.

“Not intentionally. Can’t help it if they didn’t know I was there.”

“There where, and who?” David queried, his attention on an especially knobby plane tree.

“On the ship. Uncle Will and Donald. It seems our cousin didn’t just leave a girl behind,” Randy said, coming to a stop when he had reached the top of the hill. He turned to the north and stared. “Whoa,” he murmured.

The other two followed suit, their eyes rounding upon seeing Mount Aetna. Rounding more when they realized the wisp of a cloud above it wasn’t a cloud at all but steam emitted from the mouth of the volcano.

“Do you think it’s going to erupt?” Tom asked with worry.

“If the locals thought so, they wouldn’t still be here,” Randy guessed.

“Where would they go?” David countered.

“South, of course,” his older cousin reasoned. “Going north only circumvents the base of the mountain. You’d end up in Taormina?—”

“Which is where I hope we plan to go?—”

“With Aetna still in sight,” Randy finished.

“Are those vineyards?” Tom asked, squinting in an effort to bring the lower slopes of the mountain into focus. He scoffed when he saw David holding a pair of opera glasses to his eyes and took them from him.

“Hey,” David protested.

“Vineyards and... looks like wheat fields,” Randy guessed. He took the opera glasses from Tom and held them up. “You can see the paths some of the lava took on its way down the slopes,” he said in awe.

“Aren’t they taking an awful risk farming on a volcano?” David asked.

“The last few eruptions did send some lava flowing down, but not far enough to reach those farm fields,” Randy said. “Signore Cavarallo told me about it.”

David bent down and picked up a few pieces of what appeared to be black granules. He held them out in his palm. “Looks like this stuff is everywhere,” he commented.

“Bits of lava... lapilli , it’s called in Latin,” Tom said confidently.

“Little stones,” David interpreted.

“So the streets here are paved with lapides magni ,” Randy teased, referring to the lava blocks that made up all the streets they had been on in Catania. “Let’s hope we don’t get hit with one of them.”

The others murmured in agreement and headed back down the path to another that crossed it. “You were saying something about my brother?” David prompted.

Randy cleared his throat. “I think you might be an uncle,” he said in a quiet voice.

David stopped in his tracks. “An uncle?” he repeated. “That would mean...” He clamped his mouth shut.

“Donald has a child? Here?” Tom asked in disbelief.

Randy nodded his head. “And the marchesa is the mother.”

The other other two glanced at each other before David scoffed. “Surely he would have said something. It’s been... six years since he was here.”

“He did say something. To your father,” Randy murmured. “Uncle Will seemed to know all about it when they were talking on the ship. I think Aunt Barbara knows, too, which I’m beginning to think is the real reason your parents have come along on this trip.”

“They wish to meet their grandchild,” Tom said, understanding dawning. “Huh.” He glanced up at the greenery above them, happy for the shade from the Mediterranean sun. “Which means they’re doing so right now,” he reasoned.

“Explains a lot,” David said, his gaze on his mind’s eye.

“What do you mean?”

He shrugged. “Donald has never courted anyone. Never shown any interest in even the prettiest girls in Bampton,” he murmured. “That ball we went to a few weeks ago? He only danced because Mother made him,” he added.

“I always thought it was because he’s a bastard,” Tom commented. “Thinks he’s unworthy.”

“Thomas,” Randy scolded. “He’s an acknowledged bastard. Which for a young man is almost as good as legitimate,” he claimed.

“He’s not so young anymore,” David said. “There are times...” He stopped speaking and chuckled softly. “Times I think he acts like an old man. Stays in that cottage, writing all day long.”

“Which has resulted in a book,” Tom reminded him. “He’s going to be published. By the time we return to England, he could be famous,” he claimed.

David nodded. “Could be,” he agreed. “Well, I don’t know about you two, but I think I’d like to know more about this child of his,” he added. “We should head back.”

The other two shrugged. “We can go to the Roman theatre on the morrow,” Randy suggested.

“Agreed,” Tom said. “Besides, I’m hungry.”

“You’re always hungry,” Randy complained.

The three made their way down the labyrinthian paths and stairs to the street below, briefly stopping to purchase oranges from a costermonger on their way back to Via Garibaldi and their lodgings.