The Italian’s Rightful Bride (6 page)

It almost made her laugh out loud to think that an accident had revealed more of his body than she had learned as his fiancée. But it had come years too late, when there could no longer be anything between them.

Then her laughter died.

She switched off the water and stepped out, wrapping herself in towels. Slowly she went to sit on the huge bed with its ornate painted bedhead.

Inside her head she lived it all again, the feel of him against her, firm and vibrant. And responding to her, as aware of her as she was of him. There had been no mistaking the look on his face. He'd been thunderstruck. Just as she had been.

What was he doing now? Sitting in his own room, thinking thoughts that echoed her own? Was he, too, filled with alarm? Or had it meant nothing, a brief flash of desire that had flared and gone?

Or perhaps lingered, as it had lingered with her?

She would know something when she saw him at supper. It would be there in his eyes, in the way he stood, in the sound of his voice when he spoke to her.

But when she went down Carlo said that Gustavo wouldn't be joining them tonight. He'd received an urgent summons from a business acquaintance in Rome, and would be gone for several hours.

Joanna smiled and said that she understood how many calls on the prince's time there must be.

But inwardly she whispered, Now I know all that I need to. I promised myself I wouldn't let it happen again. It's over.
It's over!

 

Later that night she slipped into her son's room.

‘Billy, would you mind if I went away for a few days?'

‘Nope. Don't suppose I'll even know you're gone,' he said with a grin.

She flicked his hair. ‘Watch it, cheeky!'

‘Honest, Mum, now I've started riding, I'm having a great time. Besides,' he added, ‘I think Renata copes better when I'm there.'

Joanna nodded. ‘I think so too. I'll be a week. Tops.'

He regarded her satirically. ‘Have you got a boyfriend?'

‘No, I'm going to Etta's wedding, and if I have any more lip out of you I'll make you come with me. She did once ask if you could be a pageboy—'

‘I'll be good, I'll be good,' he said, holding up his hands in a theatrical gesture of prayer.

She laughed and kissed him goodnight. But as she turned away she remembered something.

‘Do you know how Gustavo is managing with Renata now?'

‘Not well,' he said. ‘I heard him talking to her yesterday. He started well enough, trying to be nice and all that. But he ended up telling her she'd do as she was told.'

‘Oh, give me patience,' Joanna groaned. ‘He means well. He really isn't the monster you thought, Billy.'

‘I know. Like you say, he does his best, but he doesn't seem to know the right things to say.'

‘That sounds like him. Goodnight, darling.'

She slept little that night, trying to silence the voice that said it wasn't too late to change her mind. She could abandon her trip and stay here.

At last she pulled herself together. If the prospect of a few days away could reduce her to a nervous wreck, then it was time she left.

Next morning she talked to Laura, who was totally
under Billy's spell and promised to take good care of him. Carlo promised the same thing.

‘Great kid,' he said. ‘Don't worry. I'll try to keep him out of mischief, and if I fail I'll make sure you never find out.'

‘It sounds like you've got it well sussed. I'd better speak to Gustavo now.'

‘I'm afraid he isn't back yet.'

‘You mean—not back from last night?'

‘That's right. He does this occasionally. If it's been a very good dinner he wouldn't want to drive home.'

‘No, of course not.'

‘And sometimes there might be another reason,' Carlo said delicately.

For a moment she didn't understand. ‘Another reason?'

‘Well, his wife has been gone for some months now, and Rome is full of attractive ladies who don't ask for commitment. You could hardly blame him—'

‘Yes, I see what you mean,' she said hastily. ‘Fine, I'll catch him later.'

She left him before he could tell her any more and went to her room, cursing herself for her own stupidity. Where had her wits been wandering?

She threw some clothes into a bag, then went out to the dig and spent an hour talking with her team, who, as she'd known, were cheerfully unfazed by the thought of managing without her.

Suddenly she saw Gustavo's car approaching and waited for him to stop as he'd often done before. But he drove past. There was nothing for it but to follow him.

She reached the house about ten minutes later and went to look for him in his study. Like the rest of the house it was awesomely impressive, with shelves of books climbing to the ceiling.

He looked up when she entered and smiled briefly, but she had the impression that he was no more relaxed than herself.

‘I've come to say that I'm going to England for a few days,' she said.

He stared. ‘What did you say?'

‘I need to check some things in the British Museum.'

She was planning to do that as well. It seemed more tactful to say nothing about a wedding.

He set down the paper he had been holding and stared at her.

‘I don't understand.' His voice was curt.

‘I'm going to England for a few days.'

‘Nonsense,' he said sharply. ‘There can be no need for that.'

Informing Gustavo should have been no more than a formality. Opposition was the last thing she had expected, and it had the effect of making her stubborn.

‘I think I'm the best judge of the necessity,' she said coolly.

‘You have duties here.'

‘I'm aware of my responsibilities here, but you must leave it to me to decide how best to fulfil them.'

‘And your team? How will they manage?'

‘If my team couldn't work on their own they wouldn't be my team.'

Gustavo's eyes became harder and obstinate lines appeared around his mouth.

‘Surely you'd do better to consult Italian museums?'

‘There are things I can only find in the British Museum.'

‘This is not a good idea,' he said curtly. ‘I would prefer you not to go.'

Joanna regarded him with her head on one side. Gustavo
was normally so punctilious that the sight of him growing angry was astonishing.

‘Gustavo,' she said very gently, ‘I'm not asking your permission.'

‘Perhaps you should, since I'm employing you.'

She drew a deep breath and answered with restraint.

‘Even if you were employing me, it wouldn't mean you controlled how I spend every moment of my time.'

‘What do you mean “even
if
”?'

‘Strictly speaking, you're employing Manton Research, and I work for the firm. The only person entitled to give me orders is the managing director.'

‘And who is that?'

‘Well, it's me, actually, but—'

‘In that case, Madam Managing Director, I have a complaint to make about one of your employees, a lady who seems to think she can do her job at long distance. I am paying your firm for her services and I expect you to provide them.'

Joanna's voice was tight.

‘If Your Excellency would care to study the contract you signed, you will see that all such decisions are the prerogative of the managing director. I and I alone shall decide the best use of Mrs Manton's time.'

‘Mrs Manton has barely arrived and does not have my permission to leave.'

‘Mrs Manton has
my
permission to leave, and does not need yours.'

‘Then I can only say that I consider her thoroughly unprofessional, and I suggest she thinks about that.'

Joanna stared at him, trying to get her bearings. This wasn't the Gustavo she'd thought she knew, but a hasty, arrogant man who presumed to judge her.

It crossed her mind that if she'd been leaving to avoid
reigniting her old feelings, then she need no longer bother. Just being in Gustavo's company would protect her very nicely.

But she was in too much of a temper to give in now, and Gustavo's own temper was reaching new heights.

‘Is this how your firm normally works?' he demanded cuttingly. ‘Takes on a job, does it for a few weeks, then the head of the team vanishes and leaves the rest of the work to the underlings? I suppose there's another job waiting for you, and you'll run the two in tandem. Well, let me make it clear that I won't tolerate—'

‘How
dare
you!' she raged. ‘You ought to be ashamed of yourself, saying such a thing to me.'

He had the grace to become uneasy.

‘All right,' he snapped. ‘I went too far.'

‘Much too far,' she snapped back.

‘I retract my words, but not my opposition. How do I know you'll come back?'

‘Because I'm a woman of my word,' she said indignantly. ‘When I take on a job, I complete it. When I say I'll do something, I do it, and what I say now is that I am going to England.'

‘If you do, you do so in opposition to my wishes.'

‘I'll live with that,' she flung at him, and walked out before he could reply.

S
HE
saw Billy as she was crossing the hall and beckoned him to follow her upstairs to his room.

‘Sorry, darling,' she said when they were inside. ‘Change of plan. You're coming with me.'

‘I'm not going to be a pageboy,' he said, looking around wildly.

‘All right, it's a deal. Now go and chuck a few things into a bag.'

‘But you said it was all right for me to stay here.'

‘Not any more.'

She went to her own room and began to pack hurriedly, growing more enraged with every moment. Gustavo's refusal to be reasonable, as much as his haughtiness, had stunned her.

The knock at her door was tentative, even slightly nervous. Still seething, she yanked it open.

Gustavo was standing there. ‘May I come in?'

She stood back for him to pass, and closed the door behind him.

‘Are you still speaking to me?' he asked.

‘Just about.'

‘I suppose it's more than I deserve. Joanna, please forgive my ill-temper. I don't know what got into me. Of course you must go, if—if you think it's necessary.'

In the face of his contrition her anger died. She faced him, arms akimbo, her face full of fond exasperation.

‘How could you believe that I wouldn't come back?'

‘It sounds crazy, I know. It's just that what's happen
ing out there is so important to me, and naturally it matters that the boss should be there.'

He sounded self-conscious, like a man hiding his true thoughts. Joanna wouldn't allow herself to speculate on what those thoughts might be.

‘Mum,' Billy said, bursting in, ‘do I need to pack my—?' He stopped, seeing Gustavo.

‘You too?' Gustavo said quickly. ‘But you surely don't want to leave just when you're beginning to ride so well?'

‘I was originally hoping to leave Billy here,' Joanna said. ‘But then—'

‘And I hope you will,' Gustavo said. ‘You know he'll be all right, and Renata would be lonely without him.'

‘That would be better,' Joanna admitted. ‘Thank you. It's all right, Billy, you can unpack.'

‘But you just told me to pack.'

‘Well, now you're staying, so you can unpack.'

In silence, Billy looked from one to the other, and tapped his forehead.

 

By late that evening Joanna was in London, installed in the Ritz, desperately relieved to have got away from Gustavo.

His contrition had been welcome, but it hadn't wiped out the memory of their quarrel when she'd seen a side of him that had shocked her—a man who demanded his own way as a right, who could be coldly autocratic to anyone who dared defy him.

She supposed it was inevitable in his position, but it was new to her, and it made her realise that she'd had a lucky escape.

She really would like to consult the British Museum, although it was perhaps less urgent than she'd made it
sound. She spent three days there, hard at work. Every evening she called Billy, ready to return at once if he seemed less than happy. But his cheerful voice always reassured her.

‘How is Gustavo?' she asked politely on the third evening.

‘He's a bit worked up at the moment,' Billy observed. ‘I think he's got shares in an airline.'

‘Shares in an…? Billy, what are you talking about?'

‘They're all on strike. Every airport in the country is closed down.'

‘Oh, yes, I think I saw something on the news last night. Poor Gustavo. He does have bad luck. Is he around for me to talk to?'

‘No, he's out for the evening.'

‘Oh, well, it doesn't matter.'

For the evening or for the night? she wondered as she hung up.

But it was no concern of hers.

The following afternoon she returned to the hotel, hot, tired and eager for a shower. A strand of hair flopped over her forehead and she knew she looked far from her best. As she collected her messages the receptionist said, ‘There's a gentleman waiting to see you.'

In the heartbeat before she turned to see him Joanna knew who she wanted it to be more than anyone in the world.

He had risen as she came in, and stood quietly watching her, an uncertain smile on his face. Joanna walked towards him, passionately glad to see him.

‘I don't understand,' she said. ‘How do you come to be here?'

‘I happened to have business in London.'

‘What a coincidence that we should both stay here.'

He shrugged. ‘I always stay here, and I guessed that you might, so I asked at the desk.'

‘So the airports are open again?'

‘I've no idea. They were closed yesterday, so I took the train.'

‘All that way by train? Why, it must take—'

‘Twenty-eight hours.'

‘Your business must be very urgent.'

He nodded, not taking his eyes from her. ‘Yes,' he said quietly. ‘It is.'

She made no answer. It mattered too much for words.

A sudden awkwardness overtook them both. The moment wasn't right.

He glanced at the books she was carrying. ‘From the museum?'

‘Yes, I treated myself in the museum shop.'

‘They look heavy. May I carry them up for you?'

She relinquished them to him. Together they went to the lift, then up to her suite.

‘I need a drink,' she said, kicking off her shoes. ‘Who'd think you could get so tired just looking at manuscripts?'

‘Paperwork,' he agreed. ‘Guaranteed to give you a headache.'

They were talking about nothing to gain time and space. Now that their first greeting was over she was disconcerted at the sight of him. This wasn't the man whose body she'd clasped through the mud, or the arrogant autocrat who had antagonised her. He looked desperately weary, like someone who'd already absorbed too many blows and was tensed for more. He confirmed it when she asked what he wanted to drink and he asked for a whisky, which she'd never seen him with before.

He downed it in one and said heavily, ‘I lied to you. I knew you were here. I asked Billy.'

‘He didn't tell me that.'

‘I swore him to secrecy. I said I wanted to surprise you, and he mustn't spoil it.'

‘I'll bet he loved that, the little monkey.'

‘Yes, he did. I envy you. What a son to have!'

She remembered that his own son wasn't his son at all, but couldn't think of anything to say that wouldn't sound insultingly trivial.

‘Another drink?' she asked gently.

‘Perhaps I shouldn't. I'm going to ask you to dinner, so I'd better keep a clear head.'

‘Like I'm an ogre?' she said lightly. ‘Forget it. We'll eat here and I'll be the host.'

‘Thank you.' He held out his glass and she poured him another whisky.

‘I lied about having business too,' he admitted. ‘I just followed you. I couldn't bear it that you went away angry with me, even though I deserved it.'

‘I wasn't angry—' she began, but he interrupted her quickly.

‘Yes, you were, and you were right. I behaved abominably.'

‘I don't think you were abominable,' she said, although she'd been thinking exactly that. ‘I was just a bit surprised. I've never seen you like that before.'

He smiled faintly. ‘I didn't want you to go and I couldn't think of any other way to say it. I'm afraid I tend to fall back on barking out orders when—when I feel at a disadvantage. I shouldn't have acted that way, with you of all people.'

‘You don't owe me anything.'

‘We both know what I owe you, but—let's talk about
that later. First tell me why you suddenly decided to leave Montegiano.'

‘I told you—'

‘Yes, yes, you told me some neat story about working in the British Museum.'

‘I've really been to the British Museum, and I've discovered some fascinating—'

‘Joanna, can we please forget about old ruins for a while, even my old ruins? Right now they don't seem very important.'

‘I never thought to hear you say that.'

‘Neither did I, but sometimes… Did you leave to get away from me?'

‘How—exactly—do you mean that?' she asked cautiously.

‘Do I make things too difficult for you—because of the past?'

‘What past? We were friends. We're still friends. End of story. Look, I knew whose home it was when I went there. I wasn't taken by surprise. I just thought it would be nice to see how you were.'

‘But you didn't expect to find me alone. Perhaps if you'd known that, you wouldn't have come.'

‘Why should you say that?'

‘Because I wonder if you found our meeting awkward.'

‘After all these years? We're not the same people that we were then.'

‘True,' he said, looking into his glass. ‘The years do their work. They give and they take away. They show us the lessons to be learned, and those lessons change us, so that we look back and don't recognise ourselves as we were then.'

‘Would you go back to being the man you were then?' she asked.

He shook his head. ‘At twenty-two I wasn't even a man. Just a callow boy who thought he knew it all because he'd been raised in a privileged position. What a fool! I fell for the first fairy tale that was fed to me. A man with a shred of experience or worldly wisdom would have seen through her.'

‘Was it really as bad as that?' she asked sympathetically.

He nodded.

‘I thought I'd arrive to see you and Crystal together in domestic bliss.'

‘Domestic bliss,' he said wryly. ‘It was never that.'

‘It didn't occur to me that things might have gone wrong, especially after I read in the papers about your son being born.'

He winced. ‘Yes, there was a proper announcement about a son and heir being born to the Prince of Montegiano. But you should have seen what the papers made of the other juicy little item, when the boy turned out to be the son and heir of the princess's fitness instructor.'

She heard the pain in his voice, and saw it in his twisted smile. How much was wounded love for a woman who had betrayed him? she wondered. And how much was humiliation, because the world knew he was a cuckold?

Did it matter? Whatever the truth, his misery was intense.

‘Let's have some dinner,' she said briskly. ‘Everything looks better on a full stomach.' She handed him the room-service menu. ‘I feel like a feast.'

She was afraid that he might demur at the idea of her
treating him, but he simply looked contented. When the feast was chosen she said, with a twinkle, ‘I'll leave the wines to you.'

‘Tactful lady!'

‘Well, I'm not going to risk choosing wines for an Italian, and a Roman at that.'

‘Not only tactful but also wise.'

‘We'll do it properly,' she said. ‘A different wine with every course. And champagne.'

‘Champagne?'

Just having him here was a cause for celebration, but she couldn't say that so she just gave a private smile of happiness.

When the meal arrived they gave it all their attention for a while. Gustavo said little, but now and then he glanced across at her, as though making sure that she was still there.

After a while, when it seemed to her that he was more relaxed, Joanna said gently, ‘What happened?'

‘What happened was that I made the biggest mistake any man has ever made,' he said slowly. ‘I gave my whole heart and soul to a woman who had no heart to give back. She fed me a line and I fell for it.'

‘But she was crazy about you. I saw you together.'

He shook his head. ‘No, she wanted me to be crazy about her. It's not the same thing. And she knew how to make me crazy. It was the title. She fancied being a princess. She as good as admitted it eventually.'

‘How long did it take you to see the truth?'

‘Much longer than it should have done. I couldn't let myself admit that she was greedy, selfish and cold. Which probably makes me a coward.'

His voice was sharp with bitterness and self-mockery.

‘Don't be so hard on yourself,' Joanna urged.

‘Why not? Someone should be hard on me for being such a fool. And with you I can be honest because you know the truth that nobody else knows.'

She gazed at him, shocked that everything she had tried to do for him had come to this.

‘But it wasn't your fault. You wouldn't be the first man in the world to be taken in.'

‘No, but—here's the joke—I considered myself being above that sort of thing. After all, I was a Montegiano, a man of pride and position.'

He gave a gruff laugh. ‘Joanna, you have no idea of the stupidity of a boy of twenty-two who's been raised to think too well of himself. He makes mistake after mistake. The merest country bumpkin would have known better than I did.'

She held her breath, knowing what it must cost him to reveal himself like this, praying not to spoil everything by a clumsy word.

‘You've really been through the mill, haven't you?' she asked.

He shrugged.

‘Don't you have friends you can talk to?'

‘There's nobody I can admit all this to, the way I can to you. You're the only person in the world who could understand because you saw things nobody else saw. We haven't seen each other for twelve years, yet in an odd way you know me better than anyone alive.'

He passed his hand over his eyes.

‘Perhaps that's why I came running after you. I need to be with you, talk to you, even lean on you. That isn't very dignified, I know—'

‘Why does it have to be dignified?' she said urgently. ‘Why can't you ask for my help if you need it? I'm your
friend, Gustavo, and if my friendship can help you then it's there.'

She took his hand. ‘Talk to me, Gustavo. Tell me all the things you've been hiding away under that tightly buttoned-down exterior of yours. Because if you don't let them out soon, you'll go crazy.'