The Italian’s Rightful Bride (8 page)

‘So where's his wife? I heard rumours—'

‘That's over. They're divorced.'

‘And now he's here with you? Hmm!'

‘I said forget it.'

‘Really, my dear, you can't expect me to pass up the chance of adding a prince to the family. He slipped through our fingers last time but—'

‘I'll tread on your toes in a minute.'

He grinned and dropped the subject, but a few mo
ments later she saw him making friendly overtures to Gustavo. She could only hope that he wouldn't be too blatant about it.

She couldn't help noticing that, when Lord Rannley had left him, Gustavo wasn't at ease. The people here knew him only in connection with a past scandal, and he hated the feeling. But he'd wangled an invitation and braved the stares, simply to be with her.

‘It's getting late,' she said to him at last. ‘I'm going to bed.'

‘Me too,' he said, as all around them guests were beginning to drift away.

They said their goodnights and went up the stairs together.

‘It'll be a long day tomorrow,' she said.

‘And perhaps a hard one.'

‘We won't let it be,' she promised. ‘Goodnight.'

She hugged him. He hugged her. And they went their separate ways.

In her new mood of contentment Joanna nodded off as soon as her head touched the pillow, and slept without a break until dawn.

But then she was unceremoniously awoken by someone plumping down on her bed. Hands shook her fiercely and an urgent voice said, ‘Joanna, wake up, please.
Something absolutely terrible's happened.
'

‘What? What's happened?'

Joanna struggled to awake and found Etta there, her face distraught.

‘It's dreadful,' she wailed.

‘What's dreadful? What's happened, Etta?'

‘Gina's got flu,' she wailed.

‘Hell!' Joanna said, not mincing matters. Gina was the matron of honour.

‘Darling, could you do it for me,
please
? You're the same size and shape, and you'll fit into her dress.'

‘Yes—yes—all right,' Joanna said, still half-asleep.

Etta gave her a resounding kiss. ‘Bless you. Go back to sleep.'

She vanished, leaving Joanna to fall back on her pillows, eyes already closed.

She awoke again a couple of hours later, and immediately sat up in bed.

‘Whatever did I say I'd do?' She dialled Etta's room on the bedside phone. ‘Etta?'

‘Yes, darling. Come right along and try your dress on. I've had your breakfast served here.'

Joanna hastily threw on her dressing gown and was in Etta's room a couple of minutes later.

‘Did I imagine last night?'

‘No, poor Gina's feverish. She's refusing all visitors until the wedding's safely over. Come and look at your dress.'

Joanna's eyes widened at the sight of that dress. Etta had had the idea of dressing her bridesmaids and her matron of honour in gowns identical to her own, save for slight variations of colour.

Etta's gown was satin-covered lace, cut on slender lines, with sleeves that trailed the floor. As befitted a bride, it was gleaming white.

The six bridesmaids all wore the same, but in pink, while Joanna's dress was also the same, in ivory. The only thing different was that the bride wore a long veil, while her attendants each had broad-brimmed hats of organdie, adorned with real flowers.

‘It fits perfectly,' Etta said triumphantly when Joanna tried the dress on. ‘You'll look wonderful. Now take it off so that we can have breakfast.'

In a daze Joanna ate some bread rolls and washed them down with coffee, listening to a stream of instructions, nodding and trying to concentrate.

‘OK,' she said at last, donning her dressing gown. ‘I'll dash back to my room for a shower, then I'll come straight back.'

She slipped back into the corridor, so preoccupied that at first she didn't see Gustavo. It was his sharp intake of breath that alerted her.

‘Oh, good,' she said, laying a light hand on his arm.

To her astonishment he flinched.

‘I was going to find you,' she said, ‘to say that I won't be coming to the church in the same car as you after all.'

‘I see.' His face was tense.

‘The reason is—'

‘There's no need for you to tell me the reason,' he said coldly. ‘I should have realised.'

‘Realised what?' she demanded, more and more puzzled by his strange tone and manner.

He didn't reply but his eyes roved over her dressing gown.

‘You left it a little late to emerge,' he said. ‘I believe discretion usually suggests an early-morning departure. People are so censorious.'

Suddenly his meaning dawned on her.

‘Are you saying that you think—that
I
…? Gustavo, do you know whose room that is?'

‘No,' he said, almost fiercely. ‘Nor do I want to. You owe me no explanations.'

‘I certainly don't. But you owe me an apology. How dare you think—what you are thinking? You ought to be ashamed of yourself.'

‘Joanna…' he said uncertainly. Something in her blazing temper had got through to him.

‘You really thought that I—?'

‘I don't know what I was supposed to think.'

‘Well, actually, you weren't supposed to think anything, because whose room you see me coming out of is none of your damned business. And that is especially true when you jump to insulting conclusions like some demented jack-in-the-box.'

‘I did not mean to insult you—'

‘Oh, really. Then would you like to give me a blow-by-blow account of exactly what you thought I was up to in there?'

‘No, I wouldn't,' he said furiously, going slightly red.

‘But you've got a really brilliant picture inside your head, haven't you? I doubt it bears any relation to the reality.'

‘As you have said, it's none of my business. Now, if you don't mind—'

‘But I do mind. You don't just make accusations and walk off—'

‘I have not made any accusation—'

‘Haven't you? Then what was that remark about early departures? Does that come from experience? How early are your departures, Gustavo?'

‘I see no need to discuss it.'

‘I'll bet you don't. But of course, if she has an apartment in Rome you don't need to leave early, do you? Or does she have nosy neighbours? Do you hide your face as you leave?'

‘What the devil are you talking about?' he snapped.

‘I'll tell you what I…'

But it was no use. She couldn't keep it up. Amusement was stronger than anger, and the next moment the laughter welled up in her, bursting out so strongly that she had to clutch the wall.

‘Joanna—'

‘What an idiot you are!' she choked. ‘But I suppose I'm an idiot as well. Just forget it.'

‘Forget it? You make your opinion of me very clear and I'm supposed to forget it?'

‘Well, you made your opinion of me very clear, but I forgive you.' Another gale of laughter swept over her. ‘Oh, heavens, I shall die of this.'

His brow cleared a little at the implications of her amusement. His heart was beating as he had seldom felt it before. Not for twelve years, in fact.

He longed to ask her to tell him how wrong he was, but for the life of him he couldn't have got the words out.

Then, from behind the door, he heard a sound that seemed to restore him to life. A burst of female laughter. The next moment the door was flung open and Etta appeared. Over her shoulder he could see at least three other women in the room.

‘Joanna, thank goodness you're still here. I'd like you to— Oh, hello.' She'd just seen Gustavo, and pulled the edges of her dressing gown together.

‘Joanna's helping us out,' she explained. ‘She's going to be my matron of honour instead of Gina, who has flu. Have you managed to explain to him yet, Jo?'

‘I haven't had the chance,' Joanna said through quivering lips. ‘Gustavo, I was going to find you and say there's been a change of plan. I'll be on duty with the bride.'

‘Thank you for telling me,' he said stiffly.

Etta's eyes were like saucers as she looked from one to the other then made a tactful withdrawal.

Gustavo's face was tense and embarrassed, reminding Joanna of just how miserably uptight he could be, and
how he, more than anyone, suffered for it. He was the last man in the world who could cope with this situation.

‘How could you?' she said, amused and reproachful together.

‘I apologise for—for—'

‘Oh, shut up!' she said tenderly. ‘I'll see you in the church.'

With one hand she touched his face while her lips just brushed against his other cheek. Then she slipped away without looking back.

T
HE
wedding was held in the great church in the nearby town of Rannley Hayes. From ten o'clock a stream of cars began to leave the towers, and Joanna's sense of life playing back increased.

The last time she'd been to a wedding here she'd watched those same cars driving away, knowing that soon one of them would hold Crystal, glorious in bridal white, on her way to become Gustavo's wife.

She couldn't recall the weather then, but today the sun shone down with a glorious light as she got out of the car with Etta, helped to straighten her dress, then handed her the bouquet.

Then it was time to enter the church, where, since Etta's father was dead, Lord Rannley was waiting to give the bride away. The organ struck up the wedding march and they began the long walk down the aisle.

As matron of honour she led the attendants, walking down the aisle just behind the bride. Now and then she glanced to her right, trying to see where Gustavo was sitting, but there was no sign of him until the last minute.

There he was, near the front, in the second row, at the end of the pew, close to her. He turned as she approached, and Joanna was startled by what she saw in his face.

He looked stupefied, like a man who'd been struck by a thunderbolt, trying to gather his senses and failing.

She knew that for him too this moment brought back memories. Twelve years ago he'd stood in almost this
spot and watched his bride approach. Now his eyes were fixed on herself, and she thought she detected a question in them.

But she couldn't spare the time to wonder now what that question might mean. Etta had come to a halt, and she must take her bouquet of white roses, then step back into her position while the groom moved into place, and the service began.

‘Dearly beloved, we are gathered here…'

Gustavo heard the words, the same ones that had been intoned over himself and Crystal. They seemed to come from a great distance.

He was only aware of Joanna, standing close to him, glorious in ivory satin and lace, her head adorned by the elegant organdie hat with its tiny pink rosebuds.

She looked like a bride herself, he thought. And so she would have been but for his blind stupidity. He'd been happy that day, but how soon that happiness had faded in the face of reality!

Was she too remembering, and wondering about how different things might have been?

He kept his eyes fixed on her, willing her to look at him, but she seemed lost in some inner dream. He longed to be able to follow her there, to beg her to share her thoughts with him, and perhaps also her feelings.

Too late. Much too late.

Dumbstruck by the terrible moment of illumination that had come to him, he listened to the vows of fidelity, remembering how they had come to sound like a cruel joke. As they would not have done with Joanna.

There was a lull as the bride and groom went into the vestry to sign the register, while the organist played a cheerful tune.

Joanna's head was in a whirl. Too much had happened
at once. She'd seen the funny side of this morning's incident, but she wondered now if she'd merely been trying to hide from reality. Gustavo had thought she'd spent the night with a man, and it had shattered him.

She wasn't looking at him, but she had no doubt that he was looking at her. Such was his control that she was sure his astonishment would no longer be reflected on his face. But it would still be there in his heart. She knew that, for it was the same with her.

Suddenly, high overhead, the organ pealed out in triumph. The newly married couple returned from the vestry to begin their journey back down the aisle and out into the sunshine.

Photographs. Dozens of them in various combinations. The happy couple with his family, with her family. Lord Rannley took charge of that one, contriving to draw Gustavo in so that he was standing just behind Joanna. As everyone crowded up together it was natural for him to put his hands on her shoulders.

It was only a light touch but Joanna found it unnerving. It made her think too intensely of all the ways she wanted him to touch her.

Then the pictures were over, and the new husband and wife got into their car together and drove back to the towers. Others cars were drawing up. The bridesmaids began to pile into a large limousine, and Joanna knew she must go with them.

She turned to give Gustavo a smile of goodbye, and as she did so a sudden gust of wind threatened to snatch off her hat. Before she could save it Gustavo had reached up quickly to settle his hands on the brim, and draw it down firmly on each side of her face.

‘That's better,' he said, smiling into her eyes.

His hands lightly brushed her cheek, remaining there a moment, firm and gentle.

‘Yes,' she said, breathlessly. ‘That's better.'

She didn't see him again until they had returned to the towers and were finding their seats in the reception. As matron of honour she was on the top table. Gustavo was within sight but not next to her. She forced herself not to look at him. She couldn't trust herself to seem indifferent.

Speeches, toasts, all sounding much the same as before. Then the bride and groom took the floor and the dancing began.

Joanna did duty dances with the best man, the groom's brother and a series of men whose names she didn't know and didn't care about.

Then the happy couple departed on their honeymoon. Etta, full of mischief, tossed her bouquet in Joanna's direction, but Joanna was ready and stepped quickly aside.

‘You made very sure to dodge that,' Gustavo said as they stood on the steps, waving the honeymooners off.

She hadn't realised that he'd noticed.

‘Well, it's silly, isn't it?' she said lightly. ‘It's just a quick way of making an idiot of yourself.'

‘Is that a reference to Freddy?'

‘Why should it be?'

‘Because you caught Crystal's bouquet, I remember. It doesn't seem to have brought you much luck. Maybe you can't be blamed for being cautious now.'

She took his arm as they joined the others returning to the house.

‘My marriage brought me Billy,' she said. ‘I call that the best kind of luck. For the rest, there's a lot to be said for being footloose and fancy-free.'

As she spoke she gave him a challenging look that discomfited him.

‘Is that aimed at me?' he asked, taking two tall glasses from a passing waiter and giving her one. ‘I did apologise.'

‘So you ought,' she said, teasing him over the rim with her eyes. ‘Anyway, even if I had been…what you thought…well, it's a free country.'

‘If you're trying to tell me that it's none of my business what you do—'

‘Well, is it?'

‘It might be,' he said, regarding her levelly.

She drank her champagne. It gave her time to collect her thoughts.

Outside, the light was fast fading. Inside the lights were coming on and refreshments were being served as the festivities started up again.

‘It's been a strange day,' he said, drawing her over to the window, where they could have a little privacy.

‘Yes,' she said, not pretending that she didn't understand his meaning.

‘The wedding being in the same place—well, memories. Even poor Gina—'

‘You mean me being matron of honour?'

‘No, her getting flu and missing the wedding. That nearly happened to you. Remember how you got caught in the rain the night before, and we met in the corridor? You looked so wet and bedraggled I was worried about you.'

‘Wet and bedraggled,' she mused. ‘Yes, I was that all right. Inside and out.'

‘What?'

‘Nothing. I do remember, but I'm surprised that you do.'

‘You didn't just pass out of my mind, Joanna.'

She gave a shaky laugh. ‘Your memory's faulty. One look at Crystal and everyone passed out of your mind.'

‘For a while. It was a madness, but it was soon over. And then there was nothing but the memories. Today was full of them.'

‘Did they upset you?'

‘No, I wasn't upset. That's all done with.'

‘I hope it is.'

‘Do you?' he asked quickly.

‘It made you so unhappy, of course I'm glad it's over. There has to be some happiness waiting for you in the future, I'm sure of that.'

‘Good,' he said quietly. ‘If
you're
sure of it, well—let's talk later. The music's starting again. I've wanted to dance with you for hours. I've been patient, and waited my turn, but now I'm not going to be patient any longer.'

‘But suppose I don't want to dance with you,' she teased, smiling.

He took her glass and set it down with his own, taking her into his arms.

‘That can't be helped. You'll just have to put up with it.'

They were on the floor, spinning faster and faster so that she could barely get her breath. His arms about her were firm, drawing her close. The sedate, restrained young man she'd once known would never have held her like this, but this was another man, with a different agenda. Just what that agenda might be, she felt she was beginning to understand.

They might have been born to dance together, their bodies blending like fluid, anticipating each other's movements. She felt her excitement mounting, but it was an excitement of the heart as well as the body.

When the dance ended he didn't release her, but swept her straight into the next one.

‘I can't breathe,' she laughed.

‘Neither can I. Do you mind?'

‘No—
no
!' She was giddy with joy, full of sweet sensations at the feel of his body pressed close to hers.

The music changed again, became a slow waltz. She watched his face, close to hers, and couldn't take her eyes from his lips, which were parted slightly. His warm breath touched her face.

‘Joanna—'

‘Yes…'

He began to move faster, dancing her towards an open door. As they went through it he kicked it closed. Then she was in his arms, drawn close while his lips sought hers, found them, covered them fiercely.

And in a moment all questions were answered. Everything in her yearned towards him. She had waited years for this moment, and she was going to relish it to the full.

In her mind she'd kissed him a thousand times but the reality was far sweeter. His lips were warm and firm on hers, urgent, demanding, and it was that demand that thrilled her most because everything in her longed to give to him. She would give him anything he asked—if only he would ask…

He cupped her face in his hands, looking into her eyes with an expression she wanted to see there forever.

But this was only a dream. She knew that because she'd dreamed it so often before. At any moment she would awaken, because nobody was allowed to be this happy. It would all be taken from her, but while it lasted she would revel in it.

‘I think I've gone slightly mad,' he murmured.

‘Yes, I think I have too, but I don't care. I don't mind being mad. I'm tired of being sensible.'

His smile was gentle. ‘So am I. Joanna— Joanna—'

‘Yes,' she whispered against his lips.

She closed her eyes as his mouth covered hers again and this time she let herself go completely, yielding to the joy of the moment as though nothing bad could ever happen again.

‘Hello? Hello there? Is anyone here?'

She tried to blot out the man's voice but it reached her insistently.

‘Hello!'

It was reality. It would not be denied.

‘Anyone there?'

‘Oh, no,' Joanna said despairingly.

‘Let's get away before he sees us,' Gustavo whispered. ‘It can't be us he wants.'

‘But it is,' she groaned. ‘Or at least me. That's Freddy, my ex, turning up like a bad penny.'

Gustavo cursed softly. Joanna wanted to rail against fate. It was too cruel that, at the moment when her heart yearned for Gustavo as fiercely as in the past, the miracle should be shattered so harshly. She was trembling, and she sensed the same in him.

‘Hello!'

‘It's no good,' she said. ‘I'll have to talk to Freddy.'

‘Tell him to go to hell.'

‘I've tried that in the past. He just bounces back.'

Reluctantly they released each other and turned to see the man standing just inside the door. For the first time she realised that they were in semi-darkness.

‘Hello, Freddy,' she said, trying to sound calm.

‘Hello, Jo. Is that really you? I can't see you properly.'

She moved closer, and his face brightened.

‘That's better. I say, you haven't got somebody with you, have you? Sorry to break it up and all that.'

‘It's all right, Freddy,' she sighed. ‘You haven't broken anything up. This is Prince Gustavo Montegiano.'

For the briefest possible moment Freddy seemed nonplussed.

‘Uhuh!' in a noncommittal voice.

Then the moment was gone and he came closer, hand outstretched.

‘Nice to meet you. You won't remember me, but I was at your wedding. Not exactly a gatecrasher, but brought along by a friend of a friend.'

‘Whoever brought you, you were very welcome,' Gustavo said with slightly strained politeness. ‘Did you, by any chance, reach this wedding in the same way?'

Freddy roared with laughter. ‘Not this time. Mind you, I don't say I wouldn't have, if it had been necessary, but it wasn't. The groom's sister is a good friend of mine, if you know what I mean.'

He finished with a wink that made Joanna say in exasperation, ‘Yes, we know what you mean, Freddy, and don't be vulgar.'

‘I can't help being vulgar,' he said, hurt. ‘I'm made that way. It's part of my charm.'

His face was broad, good-natured and as innocent as a baby's. It was the sort of face Gustavo guessed some women would find appealing. He would have liked to use his fists on it.