Will You Marry Me?: A Marriage Made in Italy / The Courage To Say Yes / The Matchmaker's Happy Ending

Leon appreciated his father’s sensitivity and stepped in. “Where’s Luciana?”

“I left her in the living room, playing the piano.”

“Why don’t you entertain Concetta up here while I take Belle downstairs to meet her?” He kissed the baby and handed her over. “I’ll come back for the two of you in a few minutes and we’ll go down together.”

His father hugged the baby to him before looking at Belle. “Take all the time you need.”

“Are you sure this is the right thing to do, signore?” Her question went straight to Leon’s gut.

“Call me Sullisto. You’re going to make a new person of my wife,” his father reassured her.

A hand went to her throat. “Thank you for being so kind and accepting.”

Leon could only wonder at the emotions gripping her. “Let’s go.”

She followed him out of the room and down the stairs. The sound of the piano grew louder. When they reached the front foyer, he turned to her. “Ready?”

Belle nodded. “I’ve been waiting for this all my life, but I’d like you to go first.”

Taking a deep breath, he opened the French doors. “Good evening, Luciana.”

The playing stopped and she got up from the baby grand piano looking lovely as usual in a draped midriff jersey dress in a blue print. Though her daughter wasn’t wearing Versace, Belle had the same sense of style and good taste as her mother.

She hurried across the Oriental rug toward him. “Thank you for inviting us, Leon. Where’s your precious baby?”

He noticed the two women had the same little tremor in their voices when they were nervous. They were both the same height, but Luciana wore her hair short these days in a stylish cut. After giving her a kiss on both cheeks, he said, “Upstairs with Papà. But before he brings her down, there’s someone I want you to meet.”

“A special woman?”

He knew what she was thinking. His father had Leon’s love life on his mind and no doubt had been discussing the list of eligible titled women with Luciana. “This one is very special. You’ll have to speak English. Come in,” he called over his shoulder.

After Belle stepped into the living room, he watched Luciana’s expression turn to incredulity, then shock. She went so pale he put an arm around her shoulders and helped her to the nearest love seat. “Your daughter has come all the way from New York looking for you.”

A stillness enveloped both women before Luciana cried, “Arabella?”

Tears splashed down Belle’s cheeks. She, too, had lost color. Fear that she might faint prompted Leon to help her sit next to her mother.

“That’s my real name?” she asked in wonder. “Arabella?”

“Yes. Arabella Donatello Sloan. Your father was English. Arabella was his grandmother’s name. She told him it meant beautiful lion. You are so beautiful. I don’t know how you ever found me, but oh, my darling baby girl, I’ve missed and ached for you every moment since I gave you up. You’ve been in my every prayer. Let me hold you.”

It was like a light had gone on inside, bringing Luciana to life, illuminating her countenance. Like her mother, Belle glowed with a new radiance. They weren’t aware of anyone else.

The sight of the two women clinging desperately while they communicated and wept and made dozens of comparisons brought a giant-size boulder to Leon’s throat.

The explanation of Belle’s name reminded Leon of his conversation with her the day before, about his own name meaning lion. Belle remembered, too, because she darted him a quick glance. It was an odd coincidence.

“I want you to know about your father. I have pictures of him back at the palazzo.”

Belle flashed Leon a smile. He knew what seeing a picture of him would do for her.

“Arabella was the grandmother who raised him before she died. We talked about names before you were born. That’s the one we liked the best. You would have loved him, but he was killed before we could be married. I was so terrified he’d been murdered that, when I had you, I made the decision to give you up because the danger you might be killed, too, was too great.”

Leon moved closer to them. “We now know that no one was murdered, and Robert’s death had to have been an accident.”

“Yes, but I didn’t know it until a few months ago. When I think about the years we’ve lost...” Her mother broke down sobbing.

Belle held her for a long time. “What happened to my father?”

“Robert and I had been in downtown Newburgh and we’d just left each other. He’d started across the intersection when this car crossed over the lines and came at him at full speed. The driver just kept going, leaving Robert lying there lifeless.”

Belle’s groan filled the room.

“It was so horrifying I went into labor and was taken to the hospital. You came a month early, Arabella. You were still in the intensive care unit when I had a graveside service for Robert. The police never found the man who killed him.”

“How terrible for you.” Belle reached out to hug her harder.

“It was terrible, since I couldn’t tell my father. He didn’t know about Robert. I knew if I took you back to Italy, he wouldn’t let me keep you at the palazzo. Worse, I was afraid you wouldn’t be safe with me anywhere.

“When I made arrangements for you at the orphanage, you still needed a lot of care. But my father sent for me to come home. He wasn’t feeling well, because of his heart, and hinted that he wanted me to meet Count Malatesta, who’d recently lost his wife to cancer. My father wanted him for a son-in-law.

“We married on my twentieth birthday. The fact that he still wanted me after I confessed everything to him in private proved to me he was a good man. But while I was still in New York, I couldn’t imagine ever marrying again. It was agony, because I had to rely on the sisters to watch over you. I told them I’d named you Belle. That way no one could ever trace you to Robert or me. I also told them they had to promise that whoever adopted you would take you to church.”

“Nadine always took me.”

“Thank heaven for that.”

In all the years Leon had known Luciana, she’d never made such long speeches. In one breath he’d already learned enough about her past to erase the lies he’d heard whispered by the staff and others who lived on gossip. Those lies about her being shallow and of little substance had colored his thinking for years.

He left the living room and remained outside the doors for several minutes to get a grip on his emotions, before taking the stairs two at a time. When he entered the nursery, he found his father helping Concetta stack some blocks. Sullisto saw him in the doorway. “Well...I guess I don’t have to ask how it went. Your eyes say it all.”

Leon nodded. “You were right. This was one reunion that was meant to be. Come downstairs and see for yourself.”

He plucked his daughter from the floor, still clutching one of her blocks, and they headed out the door with Rufo. When they’d descended the staircase and entered the living room, he discovered the two women still seated on the love seat, deep in conversation punctuated with laughter and tears.

“Forgive us for barging in on you, but my daughter wants to join in.”

“Concetta...” Luciana rushed over to take her from Leon’s arms. Belle was right there with her. Both women fussed over his daughter, laughing, and his little girl broke out in smile after smile. She’d never had so much loving attention in her life.

Leon glanced at his father. They shared a silent message that left no doubt this watershed moment had changed the fabric of life in both Malatesta households.

“Dinner’s ready. Let’s go in the dining room. Tonight we’ll all eat together.” Leon’s words delighted the women.

After he brought the high chair in, they both begged him to put Concetta between them at the candlelit table. Happiness reigned for the next hour, with most of the attention focused on the baby.

Leon looked around, realizing he hadn’t felt this sense of family since before his own mother had died. His father hadn’t seemed this relaxed and happy in years, either. As for Luciana, being united with her daughter had transformed her to the point Leon hardly recognized her. Gone were the shadows and that underlying look of depression.

But it was the new addition to his table that filled him with emotions foreign to him. Since Benedetta’s death, Concetta had been the only joy in his life. Having lost his wife, he hadn’t been able to think about another woman. As for marriage, he had no plan to marry again. His daughter was all he could handle, all he wanted to handle.