The Italian’s Rightful Bride (3 page)

So why did I return here?

She looked out at the quiet streets of Tivoli, then past them to the vista that led to Rome.

Because after all these years, it's time to exorcise the ghost and be free to get on with my life.

 

She reached the gates of the Montegiano estate to find them exactly as she had last seen them. The gatekeeper called to the house and received a message to let her in. Driving the long road to the house was like a rewind of her previous experience.

She chatted calmly to Billy, refusing to think of what would happen in a few minutes when she would see him for the first time in twelve years.

Crystal would be there and she would see them together, husband and wife. The sight of their domesticity would be the final piece in the puzzle.

At last the huge
palazzo
came in sight, just as she remembered it, broad white marble steps sweeping up between tall, elegant columns. As her car neared an elderly man came out and stood waiting, a smile of welcome on his face.

‘I'm Professor Carlo Francese,' he said, shaking her hand. ‘We spoke on the phone. I'll be your host while Gustavo's away.'

He wasn't here. Her heart skipped a beat.

But it was good, she told herself. She needed no distractions.

Billy and Carlo took to each other at once, she was glad to see.

‘You're in the Julius Caesar room,' Carlo explained. ‘It's always given to the guest of honour.'

She almost said, Yes, I know. The room had been hers when she was last here.

It had changed a lot, and she could see that money had been spent reviving it. It now looked new, shining, and, to Joanna's eye, less charming. Billy had been given the
room next door, which was equally grandiose and reduced him to fits of laughter.

After a wash and brush-up she knocked on his door. He joined her, looking around him at the gorgeous hallway, with its marble columns and frescoed ceiling.

‘What a place!' he said with an appreciative whistle.

‘It is, isn't it?' she agreed. ‘What's up, Billy?' He had turned suddenly.

‘I just thought I saw someone on the stairs. There.'

They looked just in time to see the pale face of a little girl staring up at them with hostility. Then she vanished.

Joanna went downstairs, braced to see Crystal, but there was no sign of her. Carlo ushered them into a magnificent room with tall windows overlooking the lawns, and immediately plunged into talking about the foundations that had been discovered.

Billy listened, asking some intelligent questions, to Joanna's pride. But then something seemed to distract him, and he slipped away.

‘We saw a little girl upstairs,' Joanna ventured.

‘That would be Renata,' Carlo said at once. ‘Gustavo's daughter.' He sighed. ‘Poor child.'

‘Why poor? Is she jealous now that she has a little brother?'

Carlo looked around and dropped his voice.

‘Gustavo's divorce has just become final. The little boy wasn't his, and his wife has taken the child to live with her lover.'

Joanna drew in a sharp breath.

‘His—you mean Crystal?'

‘Yes; do you know her?'

‘We met briefly many years ago, but I haven't stayed in touch. I didn't know this.'

‘As you can imagine, it's hit Gustavo very hard, so we
don't talk about it. But I thought you should know the situation.'

‘Yes,' she said slowly. ‘Yes, I'm glad you warned me.'

Carlo didn't seem to notice anything odd in her manner.

‘When you're ready we'll go and see the dig,' he said. ‘It's about a mile away.'

‘I can't wait.'

As soon as she saw the discovery Joanna knew she had come to the right place. Her personal feelings didn't matter. This was the find of the century, and it
had
to be hers.

From the corner of her eye she could see Renata and Billy. They seemed to have established perfect rapport, and she was showing him around the site, pointing out places of interest. After a while they strolled away together.

She spent the rest of the day with Carlo, becoming more convinced that this really was the great lost palace Gustavo had spoken of. At dinner that evening she met Laura, a smiling, middle-aged woman who looked after Renata. To Joanna's amusement Billy turned his charm on her and within minutes Laura was lost.

‘You and Renata seem to get on well,' she said to him as they climbed the stairs later that night.

‘She's been telling me about Prince Gustavo,' Billy said, frowning. ‘Honestly, Mum, he's a monster. You know her mother's gone?'

‘Yes, Carlo told me.'

‘Apparently he drove her out and wouldn't let Renata go with her. He actually grabbed hold of Renata and kept her here by force. She says he's full of hate and he's taking it out on her.'

‘Billy, I don't believe that,' she said at once.

‘Why?' he asked.

‘Well—'

‘Why not, Mum? You always said, “Stick to the evidence.” Where's the evidence that Renata's wrong?'

She was caught, since she could hardly say that she'd known Gustavo and this wasn't like him. And how well had she known him?

‘Sometimes I wish I hadn't brought you up to be so logical,' she sighed.

‘Too late now.'

‘Let's wait and hear the evidence for the other side,' she countered.

‘That's right, Mum. When he gets here you ask him what really happened.'

‘Go to bed,' she said firmly. ‘And stop being cheeky.'

He gave his wicked grin. ‘It's too late for that too,' he said, and vanished into his room before she could think of an answer.

Within two days Joanna had assembled a crack team, all of them people who had worked with her on other digs. Plunging into work was a relief. It took her mind off Gustavo and the situation she'd found.

She resisted the picture Billy had drawn, of a man so enraged that he cruelly penalised his child. But she, more than anyone, knew how he'd adored Crystal, and how her desertion must have devastated him. What had bitterness and misery done to him?

She could hardly believe that Renata was Gustavo and Crystal's child since she looked like neither of them. Her little face lacked any hint of her mother's beauty, being round and plump. Joanna, who remembered her own childhood, when she'd felt plain and dull, sympathised with her.

But Renata's eyes were intelligent. She would sit with
Billy and his mother, sharing their snack, but saying nothing until suddenly, like the bursting of a dam, she would make an awkward attempt to reach out.

‘Billy told me about his father,' she blurted out once. ‘He says you're divorced.'

‘Yes, we are,' Joanna said gently.

‘My parents are divorced.'

‘I've heard.'

‘Billy says his father's always calling him on his cellphone.'

‘That's right. Several times a week.'

‘My mother calls me every single day,' Renata said defiantly. ‘She bought me a cellphone just for the two of us, because she says she couldn't get through the day without talking to me.'

‘That's a lovely thing for her to say.'

‘Sometimes she cries because Papa won't let us be together. But Mamma says one day she's going to come and rescue me, and then we're going to run away to the end of the world, where Papa can't find us.'

Her voice had been growing more wobbly as she spoke, until she was forced to stop. Joanna saw her turn away to wipe her eyes, and wondered if she was weeping because of her father's unkindness or because she knew it was all a fantasy. She felt helpless.

Billy had listened to this, saying nothing, but watching Renata with kindly eyes. At last he drew her away, giving his mother a brief nod, as if to say that he would take over now.

He's years older than ten, she thought with a wry smile.

As the days wore on the heat mounted until the afternoons were almost unbearable.

‘All right, guys, time for a break,' she called out one
day when it was nearly one o'clock. ‘Take a siesta; come back when it's cooler.'

They headed for the house, eager to find shade. As often before, Joanna didn't go with them. She loved being left alone with the work, not doing anything, simply absorbing the past.

She brushed earth from her clothes, thankful that she'd worn wide canvas trousers that let in some air to cool her legs. Over them she had a man's shirt, tied at the waist with one of Freddy's old ties that she kept for the purpose. Her head was protected by a vast-brimmed canvas hat.

She loved to stretch out in the warmth, even though someone as fair-skinned as herself had to work hard not to be burned. Years of working in the sun had turned her a permanent light brown, and bleached her hair.

She kicked off her old canvas shoes and lay flat on the ground, arms flung wide, head obliterated by the huge hat. She supposed she looked like a hobo, but she didn't care. This was bliss.

Beginning to doze, she was only vaguely aware of a car stopping nearby. She sensed rather than heard someone looming over her then dropping to one knee.

‘Go away,' she muttered. ‘I'm asleep.'

‘Excuse me…'

The man's voice was polite but firm, and there was power in the hand that grasped her shoulder. Reluctantly Joanna moved the hat aside and looked up.

At first she couldn't see properly. His head blotted out the sun, throwing his face into darkness.

‘Who are you?' she asked, grumpy at being disturbed.

But she knew before he replied. Her vision was clearing and the face gazing quizzically down at her was the one she would never forget.

S
HE
sat up, studying him. He was older, heavier, with a careworn look that did not belong on a man of only thirty-four. She saw that much in an instant, also the touch of premature grey at the sides of his head.

He was frowning at her. ‘Have we met before?'

‘We did once,' she told him gently. ‘A long time ago.'

‘Forgive me…' He searched her face. ‘It will come to me in a moment.'

‘Time changes us all,' she said with a wry smile. ‘I might not have recognised you if I hadn't been prepared. And twelve years is a long time.'

‘Twelve—?
Maria Vergine! Joanna!
'

‘At last!' she chuckled, having regained her composure enough to see the funny side. ‘How unflattering you are!'

He reddened, and she remembered how shy he could sometimes be. It was odd, and appealing, in a man who lived at the peak of society.

‘I didn't mean—well, as you say, old times. It's good to see you again. But how do you come to be here? Are you with…?' He indicated the dig.

‘Yes, I did finally become an archaeologist.'

He reached out his hand to help her to her feet. It was as she remembered, lean but steely strong.

‘It was always what you really wanted, I recall,' he said. ‘You used to talk of it.'

‘You mean I bent your ear endlessly,' she reminded him, dusting herself down. ‘Goodness knows how you endured me!'

‘I liked it. You were so passionate about your favourite subject, it made your eyes light up. So you finally achieved your ambition, and now work with Mrs Manton, who, Carlo assures me, is the very best. Why are you laughing?'

‘I must thank Carlo for his good opinion.'

‘His—? You mean—?'

Her eyes teased him. ‘Uhuh!'

‘
You
are Mrs Manton?'

‘I plead guilty.'

He groaned. ‘I don't know why it didn't occur to me, except that you're young to have such a reputation.'

‘Ah, but I'm the best,' she reminded him, laughing.

‘I'm sure you are. Well, it's good to know that an old friend is doing this work.'

‘Not just me. I have a team that I use for big jobs. They've gone back to the house for some lunch.'

‘Then let us do the same. It's too hot to stand out here.'

 

‘Now I remember,' he said as they drove back. ‘When Carlo called me he mentioned a team, and that you're all staying in the house.'

‘I hope you don't mind your house being invaded. It keeps us close to the work.'

‘Of course. Where else would you stay?'

Joanna was getting her bearings. She had seen him and, although an intensely attractive man, he was no longer the romantic Prince Charming of her memories. She was full of relief. Everything was going to be all right.

‘I'll have our lunch served in my office and we can catch up on old times,' Gustavo said as they approached the house.

But in the same moment Carlo appeared at the top of the steps, waving gleefully as he saw them.

‘It will have to wait,' Gustavo said. ‘Let's go in so that I can meet your team.'

The next hour was taken up with introductions. Gustavo greeted everyone involved in the dig and joined them in the buffet lunch. He behaved perfectly, spending time with each one and giving them his whole attention.

Joanna knew that this was part of
noblesse oblige
, something he'd been taught from childhood as the gracious behaviour expected of a prince. But the effect was still charming, and she was amused to notice that the three young women in her team flowered under it.

Claire had only just left college, cheerfully called herself the dogsbody of the group, and obviously regarded Gustavo with almost schoolgirl admiration.

Raven-haired Lily was an anthropologist, a blazing beauty and an incurable romantic who fell in love in ten minutes and out again in five. One look was enough to tell Joanna that Lily was already far gone.

Even Sally, a short, stern young woman, who was always gruff except when dealing with computers, gazed up at Gustavo, her attention riveted.

It forced Joanna to see him through their eyes, not overlaid by memories of how he had been, but as the mature man he was now, and she had to admit that she understood their reaction.

He'd been very young when she had loved him, little more than a boy. Now the years had brought him to his prime, and his prime was splendid. He seemed to have actually grown, but had merely filled out. As a boy he'd been too lean for his height. Now the slight extra weight he carried made him impressive.

He smiled suddenly, and at last she saw something familiar. It was more of a half-smile, as though some part of him was holding back, concealed behind it. Just as it had always been.

‘Does anyone know where my daughter is?' he asked, looking around.

‘She's probably with my son,' Joanna told him. ‘They get on well.'

‘You have a son?' he said swiftly. ‘How old?'

‘Ten.'

‘And your husband—is he with you here?'

‘No, we divorced a couple of years back.'

‘We must talk later. I want to hear all about you.'

‘And I about you.' Then something caught her eye and she pointed to the door. ‘That's Billy, coming in now, with Renata.'

He turned at once, smiling at the little girl, making a quick move towards her. For a very brief moment Renata smiled, but it was gone so quickly that it was clear she had suppressed it. When Gustavo tried to hug her she gave him only the slightest response.

‘This is my son, Billy,' Joanna said, quickly moving over to them. ‘Billy, this is Prince Gustavo.'

‘Just Gustavo,' he said at once, extending his hand.

Billy shook it politely but Joanna was dismayed to notice that his manner was restrained, with none of his usual eager friendliness. Gustavo didn't react, but she had the feeling he'd noticed.

Hal, Joanna's right-hand man, was pouring himself a large beer, saying, ‘OK, boss, what's the programme for this afternoon. Boss?
Boss?
'

She came back to the present.

‘Sorry, were you talking to me?'

‘Do I call anyone else boss?' he asked patiently.

‘Not if you're wise. OK, this afternoon we're going to—'

‘May I interrupt a moment?' Gustavo said smoothly. ‘I just want to say that I hope you'll all join me for dinner tonight.'

‘Do we have to dress posh?' Hal asked, looking at his magnificent surroundings. ‘Because I forgot to bring my white tie and tails.'

‘Informal dress, I promise,' Gustavo assured him. ‘Now, if you'll excuse me, I must go.'

He touched Renata lightly on the shoulder, indicating with his head for her to follow him. But the child scowled and turned away. He watched her for a moment, and it seemed to Joanna that he was longing for her to turn back and smile at him. When she didn't, he walked out.

That evening Joanna soaked herself in water, allowing the tensions as well as the dust of the day to leave her.

She'd seen him and it had been a shock, because no matter how well prepared she'd thought herself, the reality had been nothing like her expectations. After twelve years, she thought, how else could it be? And how much had she changed in that time?

And whatever else was different, he was still as wickedly attractive as before. Watching the three other women had told her that.

She dressed herself in a pair of black velvet trousers and a brilliant-red silk blouse. In her ears she wore solid gold earrings.

She was dissatisfied with her hair, which she'd meant to trim back to shoulder-length, then forgotten. She had to settle for brushing it vigorously and hoping it wouldn't look too tousled.

Lily and Claire, who were sharing a room, joined her
in the corridor. Lily especially was looking forward to the coming evening, as her low-cut dress proclaimed.

‘Just get him!' she exclaimed. ‘
Wow!
Is he fit or what?'

Joanna pretended to be shocked.

‘Are you talking about His Excellency, Prince Gustavo Montegiano?' she asked. ‘Come, come! Where's your respect for rank?'

‘He can pull rank on me any time he likes,' Lily said, contriving to give the words a lascivious meaning. ‘Come on, now, you've got to admit he's
wow
! Those eyes. Those muscles.'

‘Don't you ever think about anything but men?' Sally asked, appearing with Hal, and falling into step beside them as they descended the stairs.

‘Yes, but I spend too much time with the ones who've been dead for centuries,' Lily pointed out. ‘Living fellers tend to look very good after that.'

‘
I'm
living,' Hal said. Where Lily was concerned he existed in a permanent state of hope.

‘Down, Fido!' Lily said.

‘What happened to his wife?' Sally asked.

‘They're divorced,' Joanna explained, keeping her voice low. ‘But please don't talk about that.'

‘Discretion is my middle name,' Lily said untruthfully. ‘But honestly, was she crazy? Can you imagine any woman having
that
, and not clinging on for dear life?'

‘Can we talk about something else?' Joanna asked tensely.

‘Perhaps he's not as gorgeous as he looks,' Claire put in.

‘And perhaps pigs fly,' Lily scoffed.

‘No, I mean as a person,' Claire said. ‘He might have a nasty temper—'

‘He'd still be as sexy as hell!' Lily pointed out.

‘Will you two hush?' Joanna said frantically. ‘Not another word, in my hearing or out of it. Honestly, I can't take you anywhere.'

She remembered the dining room well. In this grandiose room she and Gustavo had been toasted on the night of their engagement. Now it had a livelier air.

It was a good evening with plenty of laughter. Carlo was there, also the children, with Laura. They had spent the last couple of hours riding. Renata was already skilled and Billy was learning.

‘So that's where you were,' Gustavo said to Renata. ‘I looked for you.'

Joanna watched the little girl, remembering the harsh things that, according to Billy, she had said about her father. Surely they could not be true?

Renata maintained a cool demeanour towards Gustavo, but when he wasn't looking at her she would fix her eyes on him with something that might have been longing. If he glanced back at her, she hurriedly turned away.

Gustavo wanted to hear all about the dig.

‘I suppose it's too soon to have discovered anything significant,' he said.

‘Much too soon,' Joanna said. ‘We're still in what Hal calls the “getting-dirty-with-nothing-to-show-for-it” stage.'

In this way she tossed the ball to Hal, who, being naturally talkative, seized it. He then monopolised the conversation, although once he did say, ‘You should really talk to the chief. She's a terrible slave-driver. We're all scared of her.'

Everyone laughed and Joanna said, ‘So I should hope.'

She stayed mostly quiet, letting the others talk. Sometimes Gustavo darted a curious glance at her, but he sel
dom spoke to her, although she was sitting at right angles to him, at the head of the table.

After the meal Laura announced that it was time for the children to go to bed. Billy and Renata said their goodbyes politely. Renata allowed her father to kiss her cheek but she didn't kiss him back. Nor did he try to make her. He simply stood still while she left the room without a backward glance at him.

The sight of this big, impressive man seemingly beaten into submission by a child's hostility made something catch at Joanna's throat. She turned away, feeling as though she was invading his privacy.

Suddenly the evening had lost its savour for her, and, as though she had X-ray vision, she divined that it was the same with him. He talked and smiled, but a snub from a little girl had quenched a light inside him.

He did his duty to the last minute, escorting them up the stairs and saying goodnight as though he had all the time in the world. But she knew that secretly he was longing to escape, and her heart ached for him when first one person, then another had ‘just one more thing' to say.

But at last it was all over, everyone had gone to their rooms and the corridor was quiet. Joanna noticed a faint beam of light coming from under Billy's door, and went in.

‘You should be asleep, not reading,' she said.

‘Honestly, Mum, how can anyone sleep with that racket going on outside?' he said, sounding aggrieved. ‘Why do people always say goodnight at the tops of their voices?'

‘All right,' she said, recognising some justice in this, without actually being fooled by it. ‘They've all gone now, so put the book away.'

‘OK, Mum.'

They hugged each other and she slipped out into the long, wide corridor. The lights had been turned low and it was a moment before she realised that she wasn't alone. Gustavo stood a few yards away, his hand resting on the handle of Renata's door.

It was on the far side, and a slight bend in the corridor meant that she could plainly make him out, even in the gloom. She saw him try the handle, then again, until he was forced to accept that the door was locked.

For a long moment he stood there. Then he spoke and Joanna thought he said, ‘Please, my darling.'

When there was no reply he leaned his head against the door.

Joanna moved away very quietly, knowing that he must never realise that she had glimpsed his private pain. She managed to get into her room and close the door unseen, and stood leaning back against it, eyes closed.

She had come here hoping to find a scene of domestic contentment that would help her draw a line under the past. Instead she'd discovered misery, bitterness and the destruction of the very marriage she had sacrificed herself to bring about.