The Italians: Angelo, Rocco & Stefano: Wife in the Shadows / A Dangerous Infatuation / The Italian's Blushing Gardener. Sara Craven

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СКАЧАТЬ 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 СКАЧАТЬ