The Mistress And The Merchant. Juliet Landon

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      Aphra didn’t move, didn’t want to be persuaded by words that made complete sense. ‘There is something in what you say, signor, except for your brother’s love. That was false, wasn’t it?’

      ‘No, it was not false,’ he said. ‘Leon has not stopped loving you.’

      ‘How can you know that?’

      ‘Because he’s told me so.’

      She stared at him, only half-believing, then came back to sit facing him at the table. ‘Let me understand this,’ she said. ‘Yesterday when my father was here, you implied that he was already married when he was here in England.’

      ‘I said he was not free. He was in fact betrothed when he spoke of marriage to you, mistress, which he had no right to do. A betrothal is binding, as you know.’

      ‘Then why could he not have said this in his letter? It was garbled. It gave me no indication...’ she spread her hands, helplessly ‘...no facts at all.’

      ‘Yes, I know.’

      ‘You know? How do you know?’

      ‘I helped him to write it. He was terribly upset. He asked me to help him.’

      ‘So it was a family decision, was it? I see.’

      ‘No, you do not see,’ he said, countering her rising anger with his voice. ‘But there is nothing positive to be gained by delving further into the matter. He is now married at my father’s insistence. Leon’s problem is loving too easily.’

      ‘Well, thank you for that!’ she said coldly, getting to her feet with a very noisy scraping of the stool on the floor. Her eyes blazed at him, the colour of gunmetal. ‘He loved too easily. How inconvenient for the Datini family. And how many other gullible, love-starved women did he speak of marriage to? Was this a habit of his, this loving too easily? How many other letters did you help him to write, to avoid the unpleasant truth?’ Her voice grew harsh as it rose in anger, her sarcasm wilder, hitting out in all directions.

      Santo knew better than to attempt an answer to such questions, knowing that if he waited, she would hear the echo of her tirade and begin to calm down.

      Simmering, she crossed her arms over her breast. ‘Loving too easily,’ she muttered. ‘Yes...well, that might be said about me, too. Perhaps we both mistook the signs. I certainly did, but then, what do I know about it? I thought love was like that. Straightforward. Uncomplicated. What a fool I was. Are you and your brother alike in this loving too easily, signor? You have a wife and family in Padua, I suppose?’

      ‘I am neither married nor betrothed, mistress. Not yet. But when I spoke of my brother loving too easily, I did not mean to imply that he was indiscriminate. I meant that, by nature, his passion for goodness and beauty is highly developed. He feels things deeply, in here.’ He laid a fist upon his chest. ‘And he appeared to believe that he might be released from his obligations if he explained matters to those concerned. But my father is a man to whom honour and loyalty is everything, and he refused to allow it. Leon has been obliged to keep his promises. It’s the law. Our family name carries considerable weight in Venice, you see.’

      ‘So, a prestigious marriage, then. Arranged, was it? Or a love match? No—’ she lifted a hand ‘—don’t tell me. I don’t want to know. I wish her well of him, whoever she is. What a pity he lacks that prized honour and loyalty.’

      ‘As I said, mistress, he was distraught not to be able to follow his heart. He blames himself for what’s happened and begs you will forgive him.’

      ‘Then when you return, signor, just remind him of the love he has lost, will you? And tell him how I’m being courted by a wealthy old landowner who has his eye on my very large estate, too. And since that is my only value now, I might even work my way through a succession of noble old husbands who can add to my material wealth, until I—’

      ‘Stop!’ Santo said, emphatically. ‘This bitterness will not help matters.’

      ‘Then what will?’

      ‘I will,’ he said. ‘Give me leave to assist you, even if only for a few months while we sort out some issues, like the accounts and estate management, for example. If you haven’t yet seen the map of Sandrock, you presumably have not examined your property yet, have you? And you’ve already encountered some inconsistencies? Well, I can keep nuisances like old Pearce out of the way, if that’s what you want. I know from Leon that Dr Ben was more interested in his work than in being the owner of an estate like this. I would not get under your feet, mistress,’ he added, gently. ‘I shall keep out of your way. And although I cannot rescue the love you lost to my brother, at least I can pour oil on troubled waters, if you would allow it?’

      Aphra did not reply immediately, but when she did, it was with a question about him. ‘What about your own work at home?’

      ‘I have some very capable managers and I have couriers to keep me informed. I have ships that come into Southampton and London, neither of which are too far from here, are they?’

      ‘What about the gossip?’

      ‘There are other male employees who live on the priory precincts, surely?’

      ‘There are. The bailiff. The churchwarden. The priest and the steward.’

      ‘Then perhaps I could be allocated a room, somewhere? I brought two men and a groom with me, all of them discreet and trustworthy, and English-speaking.’

      ‘Your baggage, signor?’

      ‘Is with your parents at Reedacre. Should I go and collect it, and tell them of our arrangement?’

      Taking her face between her hands, she closed her eyes, whispering to herself, ‘What am I doing? What on earth am I doing?’

      With one lithe movement of his body, Santo came to her, standing close. ‘It’s time to move on,’ he said. ‘Share the burden with me. That’s why I was sent.’

      She nodded, eyes still closed, sighing again as questions filtered through her mind.

      That is not why you were sent. Not all the way from Venice for my sake. I’ll not believe the Datinis care so much. So what is it you came for?

      ‘I’ll find you some rooms,’ she said, turning away, feeling the warmth of his body follow her.

      Share the burden with me, he had said. It was what her father had offered, too, when she had moved into Ben’s old home, but she had assured him of her ability to manage, having had years of experience helping at home while he was in London. Had she shown any signs of being unsure, she knew he would have insisted on having his own managers here each day, an imposition she was anxious to avoid when her only desire was to be alone with her wounds, healing them in her own time. Spending so much of his time at the Royal Wardrobe, Sir George had little enough to spare in keeping her safe from the intrusions of neighbours. Master Pearce would never have challenged her ownership of the mill had she not been so vulnerable. And now she knew her parents would not hesitate to approve of the arrangement to allow Signor Datini to stay. But how approving would the villagers of Sandrock be?

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