.: III :.
Five years.
Five years of ardent letters, of fleeting glances, of stolen kisses, of secret meeting. Five years of secrecy.
At the beginning, none of them thought that their relationship could become something so deep: they were just rebelling against their families. But after few months they had realized to be in love.
The first year wasn't easy: she was attending her last year in a prestigious and elite Scottish school and he was articled to a lawyer. He couldn't write to her and he had to send them through her governess's niece, who lived in London. After her school term's end, she had been able to convince her father to let her work as a researcher in a Library: since them, they met once a month in the same tearoom at the same time. That kind of ritual was somewhat reassuring and gave them enough strength for another month, till their next meeting.
The sun was white and cold in that January afternoon, and he sat at their usual table waiting for her: that was the first time she was late. He looked around, hoping to see her or not see any of his friends or colleagues, as he remembered how she had suggested that place.
"There is no better hiding place than before the world's eyes," she told him.
Often she was abstruse and not pragmatic: she loved Literature and ancient mythology and she spent her days bent on old book. He didn't liked those talks about deities, wizards and elves, but he loved her just the same. Despite how much their interests were different, despite how much their tempers were contrasting –he was impulsive and touchy and she was sweet and distant- he would never give her up and he would let no one and nothing interpose between them.
The door opened and a whirl of icy wind and snow entered inside the warm room: it was she. Her eyes looked for him and then she reached him. The young woman took off her hat and gloves and put then on the table as she sat down. Even after five years, he thought her beauty was breath-taking: her black curls were like a halo and her mysterious chocolate brown eyes were… her eyes were puffy and reddened; she tied to wipe away mascara's lumps.
He looked at her and held her hand. "Why are you crying, Herentas?"
She looked sorrowful at him, and then she lowered her eyes and freed her hand from his grip. She ordered a hot chocolate and refused to look at him again.
"I am sorry, Tom, but… but this is the last time we meet," she sobbed, trying to keep her tears inside.
Tom was upset, shocked and he barely controlled his sudden anger.
"Why?" he asked, keeping his voice low, "Tell me why I shouldn't see you again!"
"I… I had a visitor before I went out… it was that former schoolmate of mine that my father want me to marry, Ludwig Malfoy, and…" Herentas took a deep breath and tightened her lips as a tear streamed down her face. "He didn't had… honourable intentions: when I told him he didn't have any claim on me, he replied it was a mere matter of days.
"My father is going to announce our engagement at my birthday party and then I…"
It was too painful for her tell more, and Herentas pressed her handkerchief to her lips and she cried silently.
Tom got up and held her in a soothing embrace, uncaring of the people's stares, and he caressed her silky curls. There had to be a solution, a way to stay together: talk with her father was beyond dispute, Lord Meridiæ was an aristocratic and strict man, and moreover he didn't know what kind of woman her mother was. Also his family was beyond dispute, Tom knew his parents quite well. Their families…
"Herentas, what if…"
.: ° :.
Sitting in his office, the young lawyer watched nervously the snow falling down the City: he was trying hard to focus on his papers, but he couldn't keep his eyes off the clock. It was as if time didn't pass. His secretary knocked at his door and then announced a visit.
"Good afternoon Tom, now should I come to the office to see you?"
"Ah, it's you Catherine," Tom replied boringly as he glanced quickly at the woman his parents wanted as daughter-in-law.
Catherine Morris was a beautiful woman: baby blue eyes and straight, blonde hair arranged at the latest fashion, just like her expensive clothes. She was tall and thin, as plain as a board, but without character and with a marble slab's expressiveness. Tom could do nothing but compare her with Herentas: he had seen that sixteen year old girl bloom in a woman as beautiful as Botticelli's Venus, she was clever and with a great knowledge and her eyes were expressive and mysterious at the same time.
"Ugh, you are so cold lately!
"By the way, I'm thinking about going in Paris: I can ask my father to give you a leave and…"
"I can't waste my time with such nonsense, I'm quite busy right now."
"You are a morose too, today. I wonder if you will threat me in this same way when will be married.
"Why don't we dine together?"
"No," Tom replied as he got out his office.
"Why?"
"Because I said no. Stop to be so sticky and don't bother me!"
"What is happening to you? Did you forget that next year we'd get married?" Catherine scolded him as she followed him.
Tom got out the building and looked around, as if he was waiting some one, then he bit his lower lip and looked again at his watch. The young woman reached him and took his arm.
"Whom are you waiting?" she asked fluttering her eyelashes.
Tom pushed her away and spat: "None of your business."
"You're touchier than usual: if you are angry, why do you have to take it out on me?"
"It's you who put me in a bad mood: you are able to ruin whoever's day." the lawyer exclaimed, and the he sighed in relief. "You're late, Ernest!" he said as a car stopped before him.
"Sorry, I had a mishap.
"Good afternoon Ms Morris, are you com-"
"No, Catherine was about to go away," Tom said hastily, "let's go, we don't have the whole day."
"As you wish, boss," Ernest said and then he said goodbye to the woman, whom looked the car going away.
.: ° :.
The church wasn't big and was very cosy and friendly. Half hidden in the shadows, six people were waiting: Fede, Speranza e Carità watched their cousin Herentas, stern and hieratic like ancient sibyls.
"You haven't yet told him, have you?" they said as one diaphanous voice.
The younger witch stared at them sheepishly, and then she bit her lower lip. "I'll do when time is ripe."
"This is the time…"
"… after you couldn't come back…"
"… and the price will be too high," the three Seers said excitedly.
"Are you bringing bad luck to my wedding?" she whispered fearful, "or did you burn too much sage and laurel?"
"Please, Herentas, calm down!" Sebastiano whispered, squeezing gently her shoulder, and then he grinned. "You know, this is the first time a groom is late; usually that's a bride's job."
Herentas smiled faintly, feeling a surge of gratefulness toward her cousin: Sebastiano knew how make her smile or laugh. The bride looked around, the church's gothic architecture was wrapped in semi-darkness: hundreds and hundreds of lighted candles cast a flickering and warm light. It was Candlemas, it was the night of Imbolc and it was her birthday: she was going to get married in the Day of Light, that had to means something good.
"We can't wait all day long," grumbled the deacon, "Candlemas Mass is going to begin within a quarter hour."
"Do not worry, the groom is here," replied Sebastiano, looking toward the entrance.
With Ernest behind him, Tom was lingering on the threshold, looking around nervously and ignoring his friend's excited words.
Tom's eyes brightened when he saw Herentas and he walked toward her, but he came to a halt as he saw the unknown people around her. Herentas bit her lower lip, feeling as uneasy as him.
"I suppose you remember my cousins," she said sheepishly, "they volunteered to help us."
Tom relaxed a bit and took her right hand, with Ernest at his side. The deacon opened his book, whispering blessings for the couple. A choir exploded in a triumphant Kyrie as Candlemas Mass began. Tom and Herentas uttered their vows, emotion filling their soft voices. Sebastano handed one single ring, shaped like the Alchemy's symbol of Eternity.
"I couldn't take something else," he whispered in apology, "Aunt Agata will notice it is missing from her jewel case."
The deacon glanced at the ring, twisting his mouth; nevertheless he blessed it and said the last words, which bonded the couple in God's eyes.
There was no time for congratulations, and as they lingered before the church's door.
"It's better if you go back home at once and do not waste time," Sebastiano said looking around, "My sisters and I won't be back at Elysian Field earlier than seven o'clock, maybe we could allow you another half hour before Aunt and Uncle find out what happened." Then he looked in his cousin's eyes. "Are you sure of what you are doing, Herentas?"
She nodded and gave him a hug. "Thank you, Sebastiano, thank you for everything!"
They said goodbye and took two different ways.
.: ° :.
Ernest drove them to Tom's house and none of them spoke during the trip. Ernest kind of disapproved his friend's behaviour: he didn't know who that Herentas girl was, he just remembered a sixteen-year-old girl with a twisted foot. He knew nothing about her, about her family; still, Tom loved her so much to spoil a profitable marriage.
"We'll see tomorrow," said Tom as he helped his newly wed bride to climb out the car.
Ernest sighed and nodded. "Goodbye."
The couple watched the car going away, and then they stared into each other's eyes: a slight embarrassment reddened their cheeks and they felt suddenly shy. After a long silence, Tom took Herentas's hand and led her to the main door: he took the keys from his pocket, opened he door and swept her in his arms.
"We can't do without traditions, do we?" he said kissing her. "I'm sorry the house is so… empty, but I've moved in just three days ago: tomorrow afternoon we could go shopping for furniture."
"As long as you are here with me, I really don't care about furniture," she replied kissing him back.
They went into the kitchen, where Mrs Forcible, Tom's housekeeper, had left their supper: they ate talking about their projects and what they expected from their life together. They sounded happy, even though a veil of worry and sadness lingered in Herentas's words.
She was eating her slice of tart, when Tom got up and turned the radio on. "We never have danced," he said holding out his hand to her.
Herentas smiled and joy brightened her face: the room was filled with music and love's words lulled them. As they danced, it seemed as if time was crystallized in a moment of pure happiness: it was as if that bare kitchen in London's suburb had turned into Eden.
For him there was only her, wearing a blue velvet and satin dress and her curls smelling like orange blossoms. Her body –the body he could at last claim as his- was warm and soft.
For her there was only he and his smell of cologne and tobacco, and the touch of his spidery and bony fingers.
Herentas sighed, leaning her forehead on his chest. "Tom, we don't have much time," she whispered shyly.
Tom bit his lower lip, hesitating a bit; and then he held her in his arms and brought her into their bedroom.
.: ° :.
It wasn't as they wanted: a strange anguish ruled their gestures, throwing a veil of squalor on their wedding night.
Tom had gently forbidden Herentas to leave their bed, in order to make up for what he had been forced to give up: they laid holding and whispering sweet nothings to each other, a warm blanked wrapped them like a cocoon. The almost full moon, slapped by clouds and northwest wind, cast and eerie light in the room. Far away, a bell tower struck eight in the evening. Herentas stiffened as she heard some one knocking violently at the front door.
"It must be my friends, whom want to bother us," said Tom, watching his wife putting on a nightdress. "Let them waste their breath…"
But Herentas smiled and gave him a quick kiss. The woman held her dressing gown tight around her body, trying to keep her self-control. She was glad to have put an Unbreakable Spell on the front door. She breathed deeply and opened the door.
From the first glance, Lord Meridiæ gave a feeling of solemn and strict austerity, and he was a hot-tempered man not so keen to jokes. Leaning on his cane, with a silver and enamel asp's head, he fixed his daughter with the inflexibility of a judge claiming death sentence.
Herentas wiped away every feeling from her face and stiffened her back, fixing her father's stormy eyes. "Good evening, father, I wasn't expecting your visit. Not at this time of the night."
"Hold your tongue, young lady." Hissed the wizard, hitting the floor with his cane. "What in the nine hells are you doing in… in this hovel? And dressed in that way!"
"I was going to go to bed, father, and you should agree I can not sleep in evening gow-"
"Herentas Maria Lucia Meridiæ, I'm not in a joking mood!" the father yelled, his blood boiling in his veins. "Wear a decent dress and come back home, in less than half hour our guests will arrive and you must be there to welcome them!"
"What is happening?" Tom asked from the staircase's top. Those screams had worried him. "Stand back from him! He could"
"Do not worry, Tom: you see, my father and I are having just a difference of opinion," she replied with a smile, "go back to bed, I'll come shortly."
"Beltane's Fires!" Lord Meridiæ resumed angrier than before. "You, last descendant of our ancient and noble House, which banner is our blood's purity; you, my own daughter! How cloud you have united to… to human society's filth! A being unworthy even to kiss the soil we walk on!"
"This is slandering!" Tom said enraged. "I don't care if you are my wife's father, I expect you with your lawyer in my office, tomorrow morning!"
"Please, Tom, don't interfere." Herentas said, fearing what could happen between the two of them. Then she addressed to her father, her face was firm. "Father, I have no more duties towards you: I chose my way and it is too late to come back. I'm just asking you to respe"
The slap was so hard to cut her lip and she felt stunned.
"From now you are dead for me, DEAD!" he yelled, trembling with anger. "Do not dare show on my doorstep the day you'll understand what kind of man you married!" and he went away without looking his daughter.
Herentas closed the front door and leaned against it, trying to keep her self-control, trying to not cry.
Tom reached his wife and embraced her from behind, caressing her hair to console her. "Don't fear, my love, I won't let you to be treated in that way again…"