Love Play by Rosemary Rogers (39 page)

Chapter 35

Sara had been brought up to think clearly and - of course -rationally.
Taught that feelings were something one had to bring out in the open and
examine carefully and detachedly like little squirming dots and lines under a
microscope. Above all things, everything must be seen in perspective! And she
had actually succeeded quite well until recently, hadn't she? She should give
herself that much credit, in all fairness; just as she had tried explaining to
Serafina. What a strange afternoon it had been! She must try to remind herself
that at least she had matched frankness with frankness. Even if she could not
possibly, by any stretch of imagination, imagine Marco as a little boy!

'Serafina . . . but please, try to imagine things as they are
 
now!' Out of the heated water with its
perfume that suddenly
 
seemed oppressive,
Sara found herself almost shivering as she wrapped herself in the depths of the
huge towel that the
 
woman had handed
her. She saw herself reflected again in all those mirrors and turned away from
them with decision,

'I... I really do appreciate your telling me everything, but
 
you see . . .' Forcing her voice not to
falter and to go on
 
more strongly she
said, 'You have to see how different these circumstances are! I mean -- well,
I'm not his ... his wife, for one thing; you know as well as I do what I am,
and what
 
he's made me, and . . . and
even that it's my own fault for letting it happen. I'm not - oh, I'm really not
blaming anyone for this but myself, you know. I should have . . .'
Catching
 
her lower lip between her teeth
before she made any more damaging admissions, Sara began to towel her hair
 
vigorously, so that her voice sounded muffled
when she spoke again.

'You really do have to understand that I.... I just have to go away!
Things have become ... quite impossible. I won't' let myself be kept here as a
play thing and he says he won't let
 
me
go until he pleases! Don't you see? It's certainly not at all to be compared to
the way his mother deserted him, for heaven's sake; and has nothing to do with
my having any
 
kind of... of strong
feelings for poor Angelo, nothing at
 
all, but if he's the only one who would help me escape then I . . .
that's the way it will have to be, I'm afraid!'

Serafina's voice sounded as if she was wringing her hands.

'But, signorina, please! You must believe what I tell you
 
now, and the reasons for my telling you of
all the things that took place in the past. II Duca... ah, he has many faults,
and -what man or woman has not? He seems so hard, and he has had to be hard and
a man with a man's responsibilities before he had time to be a boy. But I tell
you, and this I swear by the Blessed Virgin Herself, that never have I, or any
of the other servants, known him to be this way before!' With an agitation that
was totally foreign to her usually austere manner and formal politeness,
Serafina seemed to brush aside the protest that Sara had barely begun to utter
as she continued in the same urgent manner. 'He has never brought another woman
here, to his palazzo — yes, this I have already said. And he has never ... II
Duca has never been one to show emotion, signorina! Neither laughter nor rage -
nothing to be read on his face. And he has never liked this home of his well enough
to stay here very long; especially of late. But since the day when he brought
you here si, there has been a change! No one can keep up with his moods any
longer. He has been angry, in such a black hurnour that even his own valet, who
has been with him for over fifteen years now, shakes his head and finds it hard
to believe. And he — II Duca — has also put aside his business that
 
has always meant so much to him and taken
most of his time on previous visits, to spend this time with you. Yes, with
you, signorina! You must not go away, not even if ... if there has been a
quarrel between you. Quarrels only arise from feelings of some kind, is that
not so?'

Oh, Godl.How to face this unexpected flow of words and thoughts she
wasn't quite ready for? And yet she could not hide her face away in the
protection of her towel forever, either.

Sara relinquished it with a sigh and found that Serafina already had her
silk robe ready for her to slip on.

'Grazie.' Her murmured words of thanks was purely mechanical. A cover-up
for a jumble of emotions she didn't want to try sorting out just now under
Serafina's watchful eyes.

'May I get the signorina a cool drink? Acqua minerale, or some chilled
wine, perhaps? And afterwards a rest might be good — I will see to it that you
are not disturbed and bring the signorina's dinner upstairs myself. Anything
you desire ..."

Sheer perversity and the need to shy away from her own strangely
mixed-up feelings made Sara say almost testingly: 'And what if all I want is
freedom? Even a certain amount of'
 
it -
a horseback ride perhaps, since it is still light outside. Or to take my dinner
in the dining-room for a change -anywhere but here in these rooms that have
been made my prison. What about that? What orders did he give before he left in
his noisy helicopter that can take him anywhere he pleases to go while I... I
am left here to rot, for all he cares?'

It was as if she needed to fan her righteous anger in order
 
to keep herself immune - her viewpoint
objective. The man they were speaking of was a dangerously unscrupulous tyrant,
after all - deprived childhood or not! No - there was
 
no excuse that she could accept for the way
he had treated
 
her, no matter who he had
thought her to be. She should cling to that thought, and that thought only.

'I will pour out a glass of wine for you, signorina. And a short rest,
perhaps, while the sun is still high? II Duca will soon be back, I am sure of
this, and then . . . then perhaps everything will be different!'

Still frowning mutinously, Sara watched Serafina's hastily retreating
back. The sly old woman! She'd said her piece and planted her seeds, and now
she was obviously going to shut up and avoid any further questioning.

Well, we'll see about that! Odalisque ... Seraglio — what did he think
he was, a ... a sultan? Cruel, decadent, arrogant, monster! He wasn't capable
of any of the feelings that Serafina in her blind devotion to 'II Duca'
attributed to him., He wanted nothing more than his way, and willing women who
would throw themselves at his feet, begging for whatever crumbs he chose to
throw at them along with his discreetly expensive presents of bikini chains and
ankle bracelets! Forcibly put on - in her case at least. Damn him! The first
thing she'd do when she was free again was to have both removed — sawed through
if necessary — and returned to him with an appropriately curt and cutting note.

While her mind alternately planned and discarded the right words to use,
Sara allowed herself to accept the moisture-beaded glass of wine that Serafina
had already poured. Why waste perfectly good wine? And it was good
-Puligny-Montrachet, her favourite, one of the best years ever. And Serafina
had set out sesame crackers and cheeses as well, while she muttered
disapprovingly that the signorina had not had breakfast and was getting far too
thin. Please to eat - and here was another glass of cold wine - vino was good
for the constitution and the health, there was no harm in drinking more.

Afterwards Sara couldn't really remember falling asleep, still wearing
her robe although she had meant to get dressed and
 
had Serafina lay out a pair of jeans and a
blouse for her. In any case, she had slept, and there had been dreams –of
 
the unsettling kind she didn't want to
recall.

'Marco...?' Had that been part of a dream too or had she actually said
his name aloud, waking herself up?

'No, no! It's only Angelo - and please don't scream, I think the old
woman has put one of those silly, giggling young maids to keep watch outside
your door — in case you sleepwalk, I guess - or for some other reason . . .?
Hey, are you awake? Sorry about dropping in like this without a formal
invitation, but like I'm sure you've guessed by now, I'm not the formal type!
Are you awake?'

And suddenly she was. Quite wide awake and sitting bolt upright in bed
with her eyes blinking to adjust themselves to the gloom and only a slight,
nagging headache to remind her of all the wine she must have consumed by
herself.

'Angela! What -'

'Yeah, you've got it right this time! Angelo, not Marco. Hey - you
haven't been dumb enough to fall for him, have you? The only reason I'm here -
not meaning to intrude - is because your last message to me sounded loud and
clear in spite of my scowling brother being right there; and I thought I might
have heard from you by now. Especially since I left them magazines for you. You
get them?'

He was sitting on her bed, and belatedly, Sara snatched the covers up
over her far-too-scantily-clad shoulders, hearing Angelo's soft chuckle come to
her out of the darkness.

'Still the shy type, huh? But no nun either, I begin to get the
impression. Not that you have to feel nervous about me being here sitting on
your bed and all, or about my letting on to anyone at all which sister you
really are, because like I said before I'm the kind of guy who keeps his word,
see? And also the kind of guy who does his homework, if you get what I mean?
And I keep every little thing I've read about Mona – and all her kids,
including pictures... But you can trust me to keep my mouth shut - and in other
ways, if you get my meaning? I never have messed around with any broad — pardon
the expression, it slipped out — who wasn't ready, willing and anxious, and you
happen to be Mona Charles's little girl, even if you ain't so little any
longer. So — to cut this all short before I let you go back to beddy-bye
-what's up? You still want to get away or not? Because if you do, now's the
time, and I'm the only one who can help you. And if you don't — '

'Of course I want to ... to escape!' Sara shifted uncomfortably, wishing
that her dreams hadn't been quite as vivid as they had been; actually making
her say his hated name out loud. Her fault for drinking so much wine and
Serafina's for telling her so much that would have been much better left
unsaid.

'Yeah?' Angelo's laconic question made her unac-countably annoyed.

'Well - of course! I suppose the reason I - that I've seemed to
procrastinate for so long was that he isn't here, and that, and the sun, made
all this suddenly seem like a vacation — you know?'

He didn't sound convinced, and now that her eyes had become used to the
dark Sara could catch the slight shrugging motion of his shoulders.

'Well - I'll tell you what! I'm a pretty good judge of character, I
think, and one of the reasons I jumped the gun, so to speak, was because I had
it figured you were the sensible, independent type, know what I mean? And what
with brother Marco's loving step-mom deciding to pay him a surprise visit to
check up on why he's been so unavailable recently; plus bringing with her this
very rich young lady who's supposed to become his fiancee, if they haven't
already got it settled between them . . . well, correct me if I'm wrong, kid,
but I thought maybe this was exactly the right time to step in and offer you my
services -free, if I might add! - again. It's up to you, of course.'

'His . . .!' All the treacherously languorous feelings left over from
her dreams had vanished in a flash, leaving Sara filled with nothing but cold
rage - as much at herself for her weakness as towards him. Marco - who adored
and respected his stepmother and actually had a fiancee in spite of his
so-called mistrust of all females. Damn and blast his hide!

'Now, now - please keep your voice down, won't you? They won't get here
until tomorrow afternoon at least — they've had to drive on account of the
chopper not being available. And that gives us time to make our plans. You
don't have to worry - although I sure am glad you're the athletic type. All you
have to do is follow me closely and do everything I say and there'll be no
sweat. You and I will be off and away and my brother the Duke won't know a
goddamn thing about it until you're safe and sound. And by the way - not to
sound prying, but I'm a curious guy, whatever did happen to Delight? I remember
reading something . . .'

Fired by her fury and remembering to keep her voice down for the
much-maligned Angelo's sake, Sara managed to give a creditably brief account of
what had led her to this particular piece of foolishness - leaving a lot out;
although she had the feeling that Angelo had already read between the lines.

'You sure you don't want to go right now?' he said thoughtfully, after
she had finished. 'After all, why be embarrassed? There's liable to be quite a
scene if they find out you're here, and the Duchessa - for all her sweet ways
-can be quite a Tartar, I've heard! Not that that old witch Serafina won't
manage to keep your presence here unknown, if she can help it. It might be
better if— '

'Oh, no!' Sara almost hissed the words, with her fingers clenched over
the edge of her sheet; wishing she had something near at hand to throw.
Vendetta! How well she had begun to understand the true meaning of that word!

'No? But surely . . .'

She sucked in a deep breath of cool night air before saying in a more
controlled tone of voice: 'Not tonight but tomorrow night instead, if you're
still willing to take the risk. Tomorrow afternoon - or whenever they get here,
I think that II Duca's stepmother and his fiancee might have their pure and
worshipping eyes opened wide as to his real nature! He ... he's really been
quite nasty and overbearing, and I think I owe myself the satisfaction of
getting even. Not just for myself but for Delight as well. Oh, Mama-Mona would
just love it! She'd be so proud of me — and of you for rescuing me, of course!'