Читать книгу The Italian's Rightful Bride - Lucy Gordon, Lucy Gordon - Страница 8

AT THE time she seemed like the wicked witch, but Joanna supposed that the bad fairy was more accurate, because Crystal actually looked like a fairy, being petite with blonde hair that fluffed about her face like candy-floss.

She had deep blue eyes, full of fun, a dainty nose, a mouth that was pure Cupid, and her delicious, gurgling laugh was irresistible. She was lovely, glamorous, enchanting.

Everything I wasn’t.

Crystal had been invited to stay in the house by Frank, one of Joanna’s many cousins, who was courting her. At their first meeting Joanna had liked her. Crystal charmed everyone with her beauty and her wicked sense of humour.

She had a way of talking rapidly, so that Gustavo often asked her to slow down or explain some English word to him. Several times Joanna heard her saying, ‘No, no, you say it like this.’

Then she would dissolve into laughter at his pronunciation, and he would laugh with her.

Was it then that Joanna first sensed danger?

How can I tell? Whatever I sensed, I wouldn’t admit it.

So many things: the burning look that flashed briefly in his eyes for Crystal, which had never been there for her. The way he watched the door until she entered, and relaxed when she appeared.

A hundred tiny little details, which she pretended meant nothing, until the day when it was no longer possible to pretend.

At first she thought he was alone. Coming from the brilliant sunlight into the trees, she saw only him, and her heart leapt before she noticed that he was leaning over and down towards the woman in his arms.

But then she saw them, and the way he was raining kisses on her upturned face, kissing her to the point of madness, again and again, so that Joanna knew that kisses would never be enough for him.

Kissing as he had never kissed her.

She stood and watched, her heart breaking, her world shattering around her.

She drew back behind a great oak, although it was needless. They were beyond noticing her or anything else. She heard him say,

‘I’m sorry, my darling. I had no right to do this when I have nothing to offer you.’

‘Why can’t we be happy?’ That was Crystal’s voice. ‘Don’t you love me?’

‘You know I love you,’ he said, almost violently. ‘I didn’t know I could feel like this. If I had—’

He stopped. Joanna listened, her heart beating madly. If he had…

‘If you’d met me first, you wouldn’t have proposed to Joanna, would you?’

‘Never,’ he said hoarsely.

‘Don’t you want to marry me, my darling?’

‘Don’t ask me that.’

‘But I must ask it,’ she persisted in her soft, enticing voice. ‘If we’re going to lose each other, at least give me honesty.’

‘All right, I want to marry you,’ he said in a fierce, passionate voice. ‘I can’t, but neither can I stop loving and wanting you. You’re there with me every moment, night and day, waking or sleeping.’

‘Then how can you cast me aside?’

‘Because I have made promises to Joanna. My darling, I beg you to understand, I must keep those promises.’

‘Why? She doesn’t love you any more than you love her.’

‘But we’re a few days from our wedding. How can I humiliate her in front of the world?’

‘Gustavo, have you thought of the future? All those years tied to a woman you don’t love. How will you endure them?’

The silence that followed froze Joanna to the soul. Just a few seconds, but enough to make her feel that she was dying. At last his answer came in a voice that was bleak with despair.

‘I’ll survive, somehow.’

She’d thought her heart couldn’t break any more, but when she heard that she knew she was wrong.

And strangely, it was the knowledge that there was nothing more to hope for that made it possible for her to step out from behind the tree, smiling and saying brightly, ‘Isn’t there something you want to tell me?’

Their faces were imprinted on her memory forever, Gustavo’s pale and shocked, Crystal’s with an expression she couldn’t read. Only later did she think of cats and cream. At the time she was concentrating on what she must do.

Crystal spoke first, sounding suitably uneasy.

‘Joanna, we didn’t mean you to find out like this.’

‘It doesn’t matter how I found out,’ she answered with a fair assumption of gaiety. ‘The point is that we’re still in time to put matters right.’

‘I have no intention of asking you to free me.’ Gustavo’s voice was hollow.

‘But perhaps I’d like to chuck you out,’ she replied with a shrug. ‘Oh, come on, this isn’t the nineteenth century. The sky isn’t going to fall if there’s a last-minute change of plan.’

She never forgot the look on his face then, sheer blinding hope at the thought of not having to marry her.

‘You—mean that?’ he asked as though unable to believe his ears.

‘Of course I mean it. Honestly, darling,’ she added, using the term of endearment for the first time, ‘if you’re in love with someone else—well, why should I want you?’

‘But the formalities—’

‘Blow the formalities. We’ve changed our minds. Both of us. Come on, let’s get it over with.’

She turned away quickly, not sure how long she could keep up the façade. As she began to walk she heard Gustavo call, ‘Joanna…’

And there it was, the note she had dreamed of hearing in his voice, warm and emotional now that he was grateful for his release. She fled back to the house.

She had only the dimmest recollection of what followed. There was family uproar, scene after scene in which she did most of the talking, laughing as she insisted that it was a mutual decision and she couldn’t be happier.

She doubted if anyone was fooled, especially as the engagement to Crystal came immediately after. But in the face of her determination there was nothing anybody could do.

A special licence was obtained with Crystal’s name on it and the wedding was to go ahead on the same day in the same church, with one bride substituted for another. Joanna sailed through the whole process, apparently with not a care in the world. She dreaded their wedding, but knew she had to be there or the world would know why.

For a while the need to put on an act kept her mind on the terrible ache inside. At night she sobbed herself to sleep. By day she smiled and smiled and smiled.

By the night before the wedding the strain of weeping in secret was tearing her apart. She wanted to scream aloud, impossible in that house.

Outside it had begun to rain, water coming down in noisy torrents with the occasional thunderclap. Too distraught to think clearly, she threw on some clothes and left the house by a side-door, running across the grass towards the trees.

Deep in the wood she gave vent to her grief, crying like a wounded animal, and even once banging her head against a tree, screaming, ‘Why—why—why?’

Why? Because he loves her and not you. Because she’s beautiful and dazzling and you’re dull and ordinary. Because all the money in the world isn’t enough to make him want you.

When it was over she felt no better, just completely exhausted. She sank to the ground, leaning back against a tree trunk, whispering hoarsely, ‘Why did I do it? Why did I give him up so easily? When we were married I could have made him love me.’

The regret made her start to weep again, but this time weakly, in helpless, devastating misery.

After an hour she dragged herself to her feet and stumbled out of the wood, desperate to get back to the house before the sun came up, and she could be seen.

She managed it, thankful that nobody had seen her, and ran up the back stairs until she reached the floor where her room was. She was almost there—the next corridor—

‘Joanna!’

Her worst nightmare came true. Gustavo stood there in his dressing gown, astonished at the sight of her.

‘Whatever has happened to you?’ he said, concerned. ‘You’ve been out in that rain?’

‘It wasn’t raining when I went out,’ she said, struggling for words.

‘But it’s been raining for an hour.’

‘I walked a long way. I needed some air. It took time to get back.’ She had no idea what she was saying.

‘You’re hurt,’ he said, looking at her forehead.

‘I fell,’ she gasped. ‘I hit my head on a log.’

‘You need a doctor. Let me—’

‘Keep away from me.’

He was reaching gentle fingers towards her bruise, but she knew if he touched her she’d start screaming again.

‘Your teeth are chattering,’ he said, his hand falling. ‘Go and have a hot bath or you’ll catch cold. My dear, you’ve got water dripping from your hair and over your face.’

The water on her face wasn’t rain. He stood there looking at her tears and didn’t know it.

‘Please look after yourself,’ he said. ‘I don’t want you being too unwell for my wedding tomorrow, not when I owe it all to you.’

The warmth in his voice was her undoing. She fled to her own room and locked the door. Tearing off her clothes, she got under a hot shower and stayed there, not moving, just leaning against the tiled wall.

After a long time her brain started working again, enough to make her wonder how he’d come to be in that corridor at that hour. Then she remembered that it was near to where Crystal slept.

She’d thought her tears were all cried out, but she found she was wrong. This time it was the shower that disguised them.

Next day she sat in the body of the church, looking at Gustavo’s back as he waited for his bride, then saw him turn and watch her approach with an expression of such total adoration that she closed her eyes. For a dreadful moment she actually feared she was going to faint, but she recovered and sat rigid as Crystal became his wife.

Now he was lost to her forever.

But he’d been lost anyway. Her regret of last night had been foolish. He might have married her, but he would never, ever have loved her.

The reception was followed by a ball at which she danced until she was ready to drop. That was how she met Freddy Manton, who seemed to appear from nowhere, a friend of a friend of a friend. He was handsome, charming and a great dancer. Their steps blended perfectly, and they put on a bravura display that made the others applaud.

When the music became soft and tender Joanna and Freddy danced again, holding each other romantically close. It was her way of telling the world that she didn’t care whom Gustavo married. She hoped he would notice.

But when he waltzed past with Crystal clasped in his arms, Joanna knew that he was oblivious to everyone else in the world. His bride’s face was raised to his, and for a cruel moment Joanna saw the worship in his gaze. She closed her eyes, feeling her brave pretence shatter around her.

At last it was time for the bride and groom to leave for their honeymoon. Joanna had wanted to go straight to Italy, but Crystal had set her heart on Las Vegas, and Gustavo could refuse her nothing.

Determined to play out the charade to the end, Joanna joined the crowd waving them off. Was it accident or spite that made Crystal toss the bouquet to her? She caught it instinctively, before she could stop herself, then stood there, clutching the bouquet that should always have been hers.

It was only later that she fully understood what that day had done to her. She had passed through the fire and emerged stronger, because something that had been burned to ash could never be burned again.

She enrolled in college, studied archaeology and blanked out grief by working herself into the ground.

‘If you ask me you had a nervous breakdown,’ Aunt Lilian said later. ‘Whenever I saw you, you looked as if you were dying. And instead of being sensible like other girls, and taking a cruise, you made everything worse by working away at those awful books.’

But far from making things worse, Joanna knew that ‘those awful books’ had saved her. After a year her tutors were predicting great things for her.

Grief finally subsided into a dull ache that she managed to push aside in the fascination with the subject she loved.

She made herself a promise. Never again would she allow herself to feel anything with the depth and intensity she’d felt for Gustavo. She knew she couldn’t stand it a second time.

She was safe now. She could protect herself from hurt. But she had paid a terrible price.

She began going to parties again, even enjoying them. Finally, one evening, as she was sipping champagne—

‘Fancy meeting you here!’

It was Freddy Manton, beaming at her.

‘I looked for you later but you’d vanished,’ he said. ‘I’ve been heartbroken ever since.’

‘You don’t look very heartbroken.’ She laughed.

They began seeing each other. He was good company, merry, slightly feckless, but kind-hearted. She was lonely, and managed to persuade herself that her affection for him would be enough. They married while she was still at college and she became pregnant immediately, only just managing to get her exams out of the way before rushing to the hospital for Billy’s arrival.

To do Freddy justice, he really tried, managing to be faithful for a whole four years, a record for him. For Billy’s sake they stayed together for another four years, until his infidelities exasperated her beyond bearing.

The divorce was amicable. If she’d been really in love with him their parting would have hurt more than it did.

She knew almost nothing about Gustavo in the intervening years. Recently she had chanced to pick up a newspaper bearing the announcement that Their Excellencies Prince and Princess Montegiano had been blessed with a son and heir, their first child since the birth of their daughter ten years previously.

So the marriage had flourished, she thought. She had done the right thing.

It worked out well for both of us, she mused now. Life’s gone well for me too. I’m in control, settled, even happy. My job is great, I’m friendly with my ex. I have a son I adore and who thinks I’m ‘OK’—a big compliment from a ten-year-old boy. I’m one of the lucky ones.

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.