Kitabı oku: «The Italians: Angelo, Rocco & Stefano: Wife in the Shadows / A Dangerous Infatuation / The Italian's Blushing Gardener», sayfa 3

As she followed the two older women downstairs, her mind went into a kind of overdrive as she struggled to make sense of what had happened.

It went without saying that Angelo Manzini had expected to find her cousin waiting for him, but Silvia’s room was at the other end of the villa, so what could possibly have made him think she was sleeping in the tower?

And what was all this about an intruder in the grounds? Who had seen him?

Every question she asked herself seemed to throw up another, and she didn’t like any of the answers that were suggesting themselves to her.

Giovanni was just leaving the salotto as they arrived. His face might be expressionless, but he radiated disapproval just the same and Ellie, who’d known him all her life, found herself avoiding his glance.

He’d lit the lamps and brought a tray of coffee to the room, and the Principessa poured a measure of brandy into a glass and brought it to Ellie.

‘I have instructed Giovanni to have another room prepared for you,’ she said. ‘You will not wish to return to the tower.’

No, thought Ellie, with a swift pang. Never again for as long as I live.

Any stupid fairy tale dreams I still had finally crashed and burned tonight.

Aloud, she said, ‘Thank you,’ and swallowed some of the brandy, feeling its warmth pervade the chill inside her. ‘But I swear to you—both of you—that nothing happened.’

‘You regard my grandson’s shameful conduct—this outrage to your godmother’s hospitality as nothing?’ The Contessa’s question was icy. ‘Are you saying, signorina, that you are accustomed to share your bed with strangers? That this unforgivable insult should be—laughed off in some way? Treated as one of the aberrations of modern life? If so, I doubt if Prince Damiano will agree with you.’

Ellie flushed again. ‘No,’ she said, her voice constricted. ‘No, of course not.’ She hesitated, ‘Does he—have to be told?’

‘I think so,’ said the Contessa. ‘Before the story reaches him from another source.’ She paused. ‘It is unfortunate that Carlo Barzado witnessed what had happened, because he will tell his wife, and she will immediately tell the whole world.’

Ellie’s lips parted in a soundless gasp. ‘Oh—surely not.’

The Contessa shrugged. ‘It is inevitable.’

The Principessa sat down beside Ellie, and took her hand. She said more gently, ‘We must suppose that Count Manzini gave some indication—at dinner, perhaps—that he found you attractive, my child, and you were flattered by his attention. Gave him reason to think that you would welcome him later. Is that how it was?’

Ellie bit her lip. The truth was impossible, she told herself, so she would have to rely on prevarication.

She said quietly, ‘If I did, it was—unintentional.’

‘But I think we must accept that was the case and act accordingly.’ Her godmother’s tone was firm. She looked towards the door. ‘I am sure Count Manzini will agree.’

Coming into rooms silently must be one of his talents, Ellie thought bitterly because she’d been totally unaware of his arrival—yet again. But there he was, leaning against the doorframe, the lean body apparently relaxed, his dark face impassive as he listened to what was being said.

But Ellie wasn’t fooled. The anger in him might be dammed back, but she could still sense it. Feel it reaching her across the room.

But why, she demanded silently, when I’m the innocent party in all this? And you know it.

Angelo walked slowly forward. ‘I deeply regret, Signorina Blake, that I completely misunderstood the invitation I thought I had received.’ His mouth twisted harshly. ‘It was an unforgivable error, and naturalmente, I wish to make amends for my behaviour in any way that is suggested.’

‘My dear Angelo,’ said his grandmother. ‘In view of Prince Damiano’s known moral stance, you have only one course of action. Tomorrow, mio caro, to prevent further scandal, you will announce that you and Signorina Blake are engaged to be married.’

CHAPTER THREE

ELLIE’S HAND JERKED and the remains of her brandy splashed down the skirt of her robe.

She said in a voice she hardly recognised, ‘No. I can’t—I won’t do it. It—it’s crazy. I tell you—nothing happened.’

‘I believe you.’ Lucrezia Damiano took the glass from her hand. ‘And if only you had been seen by no-one but the Contessa and myself, there would be no problem.’ She sighed. ‘But my dear Cesare, I fear, will adopt a very different attitude.

‘Promised lovers carried away by their feelings, he might accept, although he would certainly not approve. But a casual encounter based on a passing attraction, and conducted in his house?’ She shuddered. ‘That he would find intolerable.’ And paused, adding, ‘Unforgivable.’

Ellie could feel the tension in the room crackling around her like an electrical storm.

‘I’ll talk to him,’ she said wildly. ‘Somehow make him understand.’

‘But, dear girl,’ said the Principessa. ‘What could you possibly say?’

And in one thunderstruck moment, Ellie realised that both her godmother and the Contessa knew perfectly well exactly where and with whom Angelo had really planned to spend the night.

That they’d probably been aware of the situation for some time.

But that, even if it was not a secret, it would still not be spoken of openly, because discretion had to be observed at all costs.

Which, in the short term, she was being called upon to pay. And her silence was only the first instalment.

She bent her head. ‘Nothing,’ she said wearily. ‘I suppose.’

‘You show good sense,’ the Contessa remarked. She looked calmly at her grandson. ‘You have not spoken, Angelo mio.’

His tone was icy. ‘Perhaps I am lost for words.’

‘Tuttavia, I am sure you appreciate the necessity. Your negotiations with Prince Damiano will go more smoothly if you undertake them as Signorina Blake’s fidanzato, rather than her attempted seducer. I am certain you must agree.’

‘Under the circumstances, it seems I have little choice,’ he said with an undisguised bitterness that made Ellie send him a surprised glance from beneath the veil of her lashes. He added with chilling clarity, ‘And an engagement is not a marriage.’

Excuse me, Ellie wanted to say indignantly, but just who is doing the big favour here and to whom? Because, Count Angelo Manzini, I wouldn’t want you if you came gift-wrapped.

And tried to put out of her mind the sudden searing memory of the way his mouth had moved on hers with such devastating sensual purpose, and her own shocked, aching reaction.

‘Then the matter is settled,’ the Principessa said briskly, and rose. ‘Now I suggest we try to get some rest for what is left of the night.’ She paused, then added pointedly, ‘Let us hope there will be no further alarms to disturb us.’

Ellie did not find the remainder of the night particularly restful. Her belongings had already been transferred to her new room, thanks to the supremely efficient Giovanni, whom, she thought shuddering, she never wanted to look in the face again. She had to admit that the accommodation was more luxurious than the tower room and possessed a very much larger and very comfortable bed for its occupant to sink into.

But she could not relax. She had far too much to think about, little of it pleasant. For one thing, it was clear that she and Angelo Manzini had been deliberately set up, and almost certainly by Silvia, but what she couldn’t figure was—why?

For another, as she’d turned at the door of the salotto to say ‘Goodnight’, she’d found him watching her go with an expression of such scornful resentment that she’d felt her skin burn under his regard.

Anyone would think, she’d thought angrily, as she went upstairs, that I was the one having the illicit affaire, instead of him. But whatever problems he’s having, he’s brought entirely on himself, and he has no-one else to blame.

Plus he must know the last thing I ever wanted was to become involved with him or any of his sordid little games, so a touch of gratitude wouldn’t come amiss.

Nor could she escape the terrible irony that the first time she’d found herself in bed with a man was only as a result of mistaken identity. She supposed it was almost funny, yet she had never felt less like laughing in her life.

The entire situation had been total humiliation, she thought as pain twisted inside her, turning rapidly into complete disaster.

She lay in the darkness, her mind revolving wearily over the same well-trodden ground, trying to make sense of it all and failing miserably.

Wondering too how she would get through the horrific difficulties of the day ahead, pretending to be engaged to a man who appeared to despise her.

She could find no answer to that and there were already pale streaks in the eastern sky when she eventually fell into an uneasy sleep.

It was mid-morning when she was woken by one of the maids bringing her a breakfast tray of tea with lemon, warm rolls, ham and cheese. At least she was being spared the gauntlet of the dining room, she thought, as the memory of Signor Barzado’s face, goggle-eyed with shock, invaded her shuddering mind. But that had to be the least of her worries.

She ate what she could, then showered quickly and dressed.

She paused to look at herself in the full-length mirror before venturing downstairs, scrutinising her ordinary dark green linen skirt and very ordinary white tee shirt. That said it all, she thought, grimacing at her reflection. And no-one in their right mind would ever believe that a man like Angelo Manzini would ask her to marry him, or steal through the darkness for a secret night of passion in her arms.

However, that was the story, and she would somehow have to stick to it. But only for a strictly limited period, she told herself, lifting her chin. Which was probably the sole aspect of the situation that she and Count Manzini were likely to agree on.

Giovanni was waiting as she descended the stairs, inclining his head respectfully as he told her the Principessa wished her to be shown to her private sitting room.

No real surprise there, Ellie thought drily. It was a charming retreat, furnished in shell pink, a shade her godmother described as ‘most calming to the nerves’, and where no-one else would dare to go unless specifically invited, so their conversation would be undisturbed.

When they reached the door, Giovanni tapped deferentially, then ushered her in. Ellie walked in, a smile nailed firmly in place, only to stop dead as the room’s sole occupant turned from the window to face her.

He was wearing charcoal pants this morning, and a matching shirt open at the neck. Against the sunlit pastel background, he looked as dark as a moonless night, making Ellie feel, absurdly, that this pretty room was no longer a sanctuary but a panther’s den.

It was all she could do not to take a step backwards, but she recovered herself and said quietly and glacially, ‘I thought I was here to speak to my godmother, Count Manzini.’

‘She felt we should have an opportunity to meet alone.’ His tone was casual. ‘And as we have to convince the world we have been doing so quite intimately over the past weeks, it might be better if you addressed me as Angelo. And I shall call you Elena.’

It was all said without smiling, but at least he wasn’t looking at her as if she was a slug in his salad. Cool indifference seemed an appropriate description. And she would match it.

She lifted her chin. ‘Then you really intend to go on with this—ridiculous pretence?’

‘Unfortunately, yes.’ He paused. ‘It was mentioned last night, I think, that I am here to negotiate an important financial deal for Galantana with Prince Damiano. There is a great deal at stake, and I will not allow my plans for a major expansion of the company to be wrecked by the malice of an angry woman.’

She said quickly. ‘Angry?’

‘You were aware, I suppose, that your cousin had been my mistress?’

‘No, I wasn’t,’ she snapped. ‘Not until you arrived yesterday and I saw her reaction.’

‘Ah,’ he said. ‘Then you also will not know that I ended the relationship two weeks ago.’

‘Ended it?’ She stared at him. ‘That wasn’t the impression you gave last night.’

‘It was to be the last time,’ he said, shrugging. ‘And one doesn’t wish to disappoint a lady.’

‘Really?’ Ellie’s tone bit. ‘Maybe you should have remembered the risk you were running a little earlier and stayed in your own room.’

‘Hindsight,’ he said, ‘is a miraculous gift. Besides, the invitation I received was—most pressing.’

Her face warmed as she recalled just how sure he’d been of his welcome. ‘I—I really don’t want to hear about it.’ She took a deep breath. ‘And I still can’t believe that Silvia’s done this. I—I had no intention of spending the weekend here. I only came because I was concerned about her.’ She spread her hands. ‘Even if she wanted revenge by setting you up, why did she have to involve me? It’s unbelievable.’

His voice was expressionless. ‘She may have had a reason.’

‘Well, I can’t imagine what it could be.’ Ellie paused. ‘Anyway, how did she know you’d be here?’

He frowned. ‘I probably mentioned it, when it seemed not to matter. I forget.’ ‘A costly lapse.’

‘As you say.’ His mouth hardened. ‘But, believe me, I would have remembered if she had said she was also to be a guest—and changed my plans accordingly.’

Ellie said slowly, ‘Once she’d talked me into it, of course, her scheme just—fell into place. I can see that now. After all, you’d have no means of knowing that the tower room was always given to me.’

‘No.’ He gave her a considering look. ‘Infatti, its isolation seemed to make it ideal for a place of assignation.’ He paused. ‘How did she persuade you to come with her?’

She bit her lip. ‘She said Ernesto was becoming foolishly jealous and she needed me to be a kind of chaperone.’

‘Dio mio.’ His mouth tightened. ‘And instead she made you her ingenuo—her fall guy.’

‘Yes.’ She hesitated. ‘I presume she was also the one who gave the alarm about the supposed intruder.’

‘But of course,’ he said. ‘And with impeccable timing.’

She swallowed. ‘If you say so.’ Her flush deepened. ‘But surely you—you must have known that you weren’t—that I wasn’t …?’

‘Not until you drew blood.’ His smile was sudden and mocking. ‘And maybe not even then, although it is usually my back that suffers.’

If she blushed any more, she would probably burst into flames, Ellie thought, setting her jaw. ‘Then it’s a pity you didn’t realise your mistake at once,’ she said icily. ‘And spared us both some hideous embarrassment as well as this present ghastly mess.’

‘How true,’ he said. ‘But a man with a warm, naked girl in his arms does not always think clearly, you understand.’

No, thought Ellie. She did not understand, but she did not intend to cause him further amusement by saying so.

She said stiffly, ‘You seem to be taking this very lightly, Count Manzini.’

‘Do I?’ There was an edge to his voice. ‘You would be entirely wrong to think so, Signorina Blake. I accept the situation we have been forced into because I must. But, believe me, I shall not forget the cause.’

He paused. ‘Tell me something. Why, last night, didn’t you tell the truth about my presence in your bed?’

She said in a low voice, ‘Perhaps if Madrina had been alone, I’d have done so, and the whole thing could have been—hushed up. But there were other people there—your grandmother—Signor Barzado. I couldn’t let them know that you thought I was really Silvia.’

His mouth curled cynically. ‘Your loyalty is as touching as it is misplaced.’

She said stiltedly, ‘What you don’t realise is that she’s been—good to me. Generous too with things like—clothes.’

‘And the scent you wore last night,’ he said softly. ‘Was that also a gift from her?’

‘Why, yes. It was almost a full bottle. She said she no longer cared for it.’ She gave him an uncertain look. ‘How did you know?’

‘A fortunate guess,’ he said. ‘Pour the rest away, signorina. It does not suit you, as I am sure she knew.’

‘But it wasn’t just Silvia,’ she added unhappily. ‘There were her parents to consider as well. They’ve always been so kind to me.’ She hesitated. ‘And—Ernesto, too, in his way. He doesn’t deserve to be hurt like this.’

He shrugged. ‘Prima o poi. Sooner or later, it will happen, but I, grazie a Dio, shall not be the cause.’

He moved away from the window, walking towards her, and this time she did step back, her eyes meeting his defensively. He halted, the dark brows lifting in hauteur.

He said, ‘Perhaps I should remind you that we are supposed to be passionately in love. So much so that we forgot everything in our need to be together.’

‘Who on earth is going to believe that?’ she muttered defensively.

‘No-one—if you intend to flinch each time I come near you,’ he returned tersely. ‘Everyone—if you stand with your hand in mine and smile at me while our engagement is announced. And, most importantly, Prince Damiano will believe it.’

‘But is that really so important? There must be other banks you could approach if Credito Europa turns you down,’ she protested.

‘In the financial world, a rejection by Cesare Damiano would be taken very seriously,’ he said. ‘It would be a black mark not just against me but Galantana too. I cannot permit that to happen.’

He added harshly, ‘This trick that Silvia has played on us is like a stone dropped into a pool. The ripples are already beginning to spread. I discovered this at breakfast when I encountered Signora Barzado’s prurient gaze. She cannot wait to leave, I think, and tell all Rome how we were caught in flagrante.’

Ellie looked down at the carpet. ‘Your grandmother believes that too.’

‘Bene. It follows that we must give the lady another less interesting story to spread.’ He added sardonically, ‘One with a happy ending.’

‘It can hardly be called that.’ She swallowed. ‘More a tissue of lies.’ She hesitated. ‘And just how long will we have to maintain this deception?’

‘For as long as it is necessary.’ He shrugged. ‘Believe me, signorina, you are not the only sufferer.’

He glanced past Ellie as the door opened to admit the Principessa, her smile a little fixed.

‘You must excuse me. I have been welcoming another guest. Silvia’s husband, caro Ernesto, has been able to join us. Such a pleasure.’ Ignoring Ellie’s gasp of disbelief, she paused, playing with the bracelet she was wearing, her glance flickering from one impassive face to the other, now flushed with anger as well as embarrassment.

‘And by now you have arranged everything between you, I am sure,’ she went on. ‘The Prince has telephoned to say he will be here for lunch, so I suggest the announcement is made then.’

But nothing happened …

The same desperate words echoed and re-echoed in Ellie’s head, but remained unuttered. There was no point, she thought numbly. A course of action had been agreed, and would be adhered to. Ernesto’s sudden arrival had guaranteed that. But what had brought him? Had he come of his own accord, or had it already been arranged with Silvia? And had the important client who needed his advice ever existed?

She felt too weary to think any more, as she watched Angelo Manzini bow slightly, kiss her godmother’s hand then leave.

The Principessa came over to her, studying her with critical eyes. ‘You look a little worn, dearest girl. If you go to your room, my maid will bring you this wonderful concealer that I have discovered and show you how to use it. You must look radiant for your fidanzamento.’

Ellie gave her an anguished look. ‘Godmamma—I.’

Lucrezia Damiano kissed her on the cheek. ‘And do not worry, my little one.’ She gave a determined nod. ‘All will be well. All will be very well. You will see.’

Consolata was deft and clever with cosmetics, Ellie was forced to admit. The face that looked back at her from the mirror was no longer as pale and strained as it had been. Her lashes had been darkened with mascara, and her mouth defined by a soft coral lipstick.

The older woman had frowned and sighed, however, over the limited choice of clothing in the wardrobe and reluctantly agreed that the skirt and top Ellie was already wearing would have to do.

But the signorina was not to go immediately to the sala da pranzo, she added. The Principe had returned and wished first to speak to her in the garden.

Ellie’s heart sank, but she supposed the interview with Cesare Damiano was inevitable.

She found him as usual in the walled garden among his beloved roses, a tall man with iron-grey hair, treading slowly along the graveled walks, his gold-rimmed glasses on his nose as he scanned the beds for signs of disease or pests.

As Ellie reached him, he turned from his scrutiny of a magnificent display of blooms so deeply crimson they seemed almost black.

‘The Toscana,’ he said meditatively. ‘As beautiful as when it was first grown here six hundred years ago. It gives one a sense of stability—of the rightness of things. Do you not think so, Elena?’

‘Yes, Your Highness.’

He studied her gravely. ‘Your godmother tells me that you and Count Manzini wish to be married, my child.’

That, thought Ellie, startled, is the last thing either of us wants.

Aloud, she said hesitantly, ‘We—we have agreed to become engaged, sir.’

He pursed his lips. ‘An engagement is a solemn promise and, in this case, made not before time, according to what my wife has told me.’ He sighed. ‘And while I deplore the way your courtship has been conducted, I believe I must give you both my blessing.

‘I have spoken to Count Manzini,’ he went on more briskly. ‘And he has assured me there will be no more unseemly incidents before the ceremony. Nevertheless, young blood runs hot, and the Principessa and I agree that you should at once take up residence in our house in Rome, and be married from there. That should remove temptation and at the same time dispel any unfortunate rumours.’ He allowed himself a faint smile. ‘I shall allow myself the privilege of giving you away, my dear child.’

The world seemed to recede to some far distance. She was aware of the sun beating down on her head, and the hum of bees. And from somewhere, her voice saying hoarsely, pleadingly, ‘But there’s no need for so much hurry—surely.’

The austere look returned. ‘I hope not indeed. But at the same time there is also no reason to delay.’ He glanced past her. ‘As I am sure your fidanzato will wish to assure you.’

Ellie turned apprehensively to see Angelo Manzini approaching unhurriedly down the path.

Prince Damiano patted her shoulder. ‘I will leave you together. But first—this.’ He reached out and picked a long-stemmed red rose from a nearby bush. ‘A flower for lovers,’ he said, handing it to her, then, bowing slightly, walked off towards the house.

She watched him go, almost in despair, then turned to face Angelo, her slim body rigid, her eyes blazing accusation.

‘You seem disturbed, mia bella,’ he commented coolly as he reached her.

‘I’ll say I’m disturbed,’ she said shakily. ‘This engagement is quite bad enough, but they seem to be planning our wedding as well. What the hell is going on?’ She drew a breath then added furiously, ‘And I’m neither yours, nor am I—beautiful.’

‘Not when you are glaring at me, perhaps. And your choice of clothing hardly does you justice either.’ He paused. ‘But you have possibilities, as I observed last night when you were wearing no clothes at all.’

For a moment she was lost for words, then she said chokingly, ‘How—how dare you?’

He shrugged. ‘You chose to turn on the lamp. And I am not blind.’

‘No,’ she said fiercely. ‘And you also have the power of speech, so go back to the house right now and tell them it’s all off. That I’ve turned you down.’

‘That would be foolish,’ he returned unmoved. ‘Particularly as we have the Prince’s approval—in addition to our other well-wishers.’

‘What do you mean?’ Ellie demanded huskily.

His smile did not reach his eyes. ‘Come, signorina. You cannot be that naïve. Or that stupid. You must know that Silvia is not the only conspirator at Largossa this weekend.’

She said, ‘And I tell you that I haven’t a clue what you’re talking about. Now will you do as I ask?’

‘No,’ he said. ‘Because it would solve nothing. Infatti, it would simply make matters infinitely worse. I have already explained to you why I need the Prince’s goodwill. Can you afford to have it withdrawn? You are fond of your madrina, I think. Do you really wish to be barred from her house and denied her affection? Because that would follow.

‘More than that,’ he added grimly. ‘How will you like being known as my discarded lover? Is that the kind of notoriety you desire? And do you truly want your cousin to enjoy her unpleasant victory and laugh at us both? Because I do not.’

‘But—marriage.’ She pronounced the word with something like revulsion.

‘Grazie,’ Angelo returned coldly. ‘However, I have no more wish than you to put my head in that noose. For the moment, there will be an engagement only.’ He paused. ‘But engagements can be easily broken. It happens every day. We have only to choose some convenient moment.’ His mouth curled. ‘And I will make certain that the fault is mine. Some flagrant act of infidelity, perhaps, to make the world think you have had a fortunate escape.’

Ellie took a breath. ‘Count Manzini, you have the morals of an alley cat.’

‘While you, signorina, have the tongue of a shrew. Shall we agree that we are neither of us perfect? Nel frattempo, in the meantime, I offer you this.’ He produced a small velvet-covered box from his pocket and opened it.

Ellie looked down at the square antique sapphire set amidst a blaze of diamonds and swallowed.

‘I—I can’t wear that.’

‘You are allergic to precious stones?’ He sounded mildly interested.

It would have been childishly rude to retort, ‘No, only to you,’ so she refrained.

‘I simply couldn’t accept anything as valuable,’ Ellie said, and frowned. ‘How come you’re carrying something that expensive around anyway?’

‘It belongs to my grandmother,’ he said. ‘She promised that when I planned to marry, she would allow me to choose a ring from her collection for my fidanzata. I picked this one.’

‘But you did not pick me,’ Ellie said. ‘And you have no plans to marry—anyone. As the Contessa knows perfectly well. So this is sheer hypocrisy.’

‘No,’ he said. ‘It is part of our agreement. Now give me your hand.’ He met her defiant eyes, and added, ‘Per favore.’

She stood in silent reluctance as he slid the ring over her knuckle. She wore little jewellery at the best of times and none at all on her hands, and it felt heavy—even alien.

She was still holding the rose that the Prince had given her, and its fragrance, exquisitely sweet and sensuous, drifted upwards in potent contrast to the bleakness of the moment.

‘Do you have any further instructions for me?’ she asked bitterly.

‘Instructions, no,’ he said. ‘But perhaps—a suggestion.’ And took her in his arms. For a moment, sheer astonishment held her still as his lips plundered hers in a hard, draining kiss without tenderness or, she recognised with shock, any real desire.

Then, as she began to resist, he let her go. He said softly, ‘Your mouth is the colour of that rose, mia bella. At last you look as if you know a lover’s touch. So, now let us do what we must.’