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

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      ‘Grazie, Giorgio. Will you please ask Assunta to bring coffee and some of the little raisin biscuits? And perhaps Bernardina has made some almond cake?’

      Going through the motions of hospitality, she thought, when what she really wanted was to run away screaming.

      Then, mustering her composure, she walked down the hall to the salotto to confront the cousin who, in one tumultuous night, had brought about the ruin of her life.

CHAPTER SEVEN

      ONE LOOK AT Silvia told Ellie that her cousin was not there to apologise. She was standing in the centre of the room, a dark red silk dress clinging to every curve, her eyes narrowed as she surveyed her surroundings.

      ‘You’ve done well for yourself, cara,’ she commented, sending Ellie’s elderly skirt and collarless white blouse a derisive look. ‘Strange how things sometimes turn out.’

      She walked over to the fireplace and studied the coat of arms carved into its stonework. ‘This is the first time I have been here. Did you know that?’

      ‘No,’ Ellie returned quietly. ‘I didn’t know.’

      Silvia tossed her head, making her blonde hair shimmer. ‘I tried several times to persuade Angelo to invite me, but he always made some excuse.’

      ‘I see.’ Ellie lifted her chin. ‘So, what excuse do you have for making this visit now?’

      Silvia spread her hands gracefully. ‘Do I need one—to see my own cousin?’ She paused. ‘I didn’t send you a wedding present, because what can one possibly give someone who’s scooped the equivalent of the Euro-lottery? It was really very clever of you.’

      She walked to a sofa and sat down crossing her legs. ‘Or was it?’ Her tone was meditative. ‘Maybe it was all the idea of that old witch, his grandmother and her daughter, the Luccino woman. God knows that precious pair have been trying to force him into an unwanted marriage for years. Did I supply them with the chance they wanted?’

      She laughed harshly. ‘How ironic. How truly ironic.’ Ellie took a step forward. ‘Silvia—how could you do such a thing?’

      ‘Why wouldn’t I?’ Silvia’s eyes flashed. ‘Did he think—did he really think that I would allow him to throw me aside as if I was nothing? No-one treats me like that—ever. I knew the importance of his deal with Zio Cesare and how damaging its failure would be. Therefore, I decided to teach him a lesson.’ Her smile was calculating. ‘I knew I could still make him want me, and that he would not be able to resist my invitation.’

      Ellie said in a low voice, ‘I meant—how could you involve me? As you’ve just said—your own cousin.’

      Silvia shrugged negligently. ‘Because I knew you were the last girl in the world that Angelo would ever find attractive, so that when he was found in your room, he would look and feel a complete fool. It was the final perfect touch.’

      Ellie turned away. She said in a stifled voice, ‘You must be mad.’

      ‘He made me suffer,’ Silvia retorted. ‘I wanted him to suffer too. To realise what he had lost when he ended our affair.’

      ‘But it couldn’t have continued,’ Ellie protested. ‘What would have happened if Ernesto had found out?’

      Her cousin shrugged again. ‘He would have divorced me, naturalmente, and I would have been free to marry Angelo, who must now be wishing every day of his life that he had not been so hasty and thrown away our happiness.’

      Happiness? thought Ellie with disbelief. What happiness could possibly grow from such a selfish obsession—or from inflicting misery on others?

      She took a deep breath. ‘If that’s all you came to say, maybe you should leave.’

      ‘When I’m enjoying all this fabulous hospitality?’ Silvia gave a little, tinkling laugh. ‘I think I’ll stay for a while so we can chat—woman to woman.’ Her voice sank intimately. ‘I’m dying to know, carissima, how you like married life. Does Angelo fulfil every lonely little fantasy you ever had?’

      Her gaze swept mockingly over Ellie’s shrinking body. ‘I must tell you that you do not seem the picture of rapture, mia cara.’

      ‘You can think what you wish.’ Ellie lifted her chin. ‘However, I have no intention of discussing my relationship with …’ She hesitated. She could not bring herself to say ‘Angelo’ because she never used his given name. On the other hand she could hardly say, ‘Count Manzini’ to Silvia of all people.

      So she compromised with ‘my husband’—a description totally lacking in accuracy, too, she reminded herself with a faint stab of unexpected pain.

      Although she’d always known that she would have to see her cousin again one day, she’d imagined an occasion when others would be present, obliging her to find a way to smile, be civil and pass on.

      She had not bargained for this one-to-one confrontation, or that it would take place so soon—or here—on territory that should have been taboo.

      She was surprised that the Count had not given private orders that Signora Alberoni was not to be admitted, but perhaps he’d not believed she would have the gall to simply—invite herself like this.

      She was thankful that he was not returning to Vostranto until the following evening. She could only imagine his reaction if he’d arrived back to find his former mistress comfortably ensconced in his salotto.

      That unaccountable pain stirred inside her again. She’d tried very hard not to think about Angelo and Silvia as lovers, but the gloating expression in her cousin’s eyes had said more loudly than any words that she hadn’t forgotten a thing about sharing his bed and his body.

      That Silvia was able to recall all the kind of intensely intimate details about him—how it felt to be kissed by him, touched, taken in passion—that Ellie would never know.

      That she didn’t want to know, she corrected herself hastily, but which put her at a terrible disadvantage just the same.

      She was aware too that she wasn’t handling the situation particularly well, and that Silvia would be enjoying her discomfiture.

      And the knowledge that Angelo had never brought his former mistress here in spite of some pretty heavy-duty wheedling was somehow very little comfort.

      It was almost a relief when a tap on the door heralded the arrival of Assunta, with a maid following her, pushing a trolley laden with coffee and a lavish selection of biscuits, cakes and pastries.

      ‘Dio mio.’ Silvia’s laugh sounded melodiously again. ‘But how delicious! I am being so spoiled today.’

      But you always have been, Ellie wanted to say. From birth, according to Nonna Vittoria. The baby visited in your cradle only by good fairies bringing you beauty, charm and uncritical love from all those around you. Making you believe that you could have anything you wanted, and live СКАЧАТЬ