Читать книгу The Italian's Love-Child: The Italian's Stolen Bride / The Marchese's Love-Child / The Italian's Marriage Demand - Сара Крейвен, Sara Craven - Страница 16

CHAPTER TWELVE

LUC found himself in two minds as he drove up to the Bellevue Hill mansion. It had been nine months since he had last set foot in it and he wasn’t sure he wanted to make any rapprochement with his parents on a personal level. He might have a happier future with Skye if he kept them shut out of his private life.

Yet family was family.

Business forced him to deal with his father in boardroom meetings where all current property developments were reported on and future projects discussed. The subject of Skye was never mentioned between them. No doubt his father thought if he ignored the bone of contention long enough, it might go away, especially if the woman he regarded as unsuitable did not agree to marry his son. Or given enough time, Luc might have second thoughts about going through with his declared intention.

His mother had not made the effort to contact him—probably still wallowing in grief over Roberto. He had not been inclined to make the effort to visit her, either, remembering all too well her rigid disapproval of Skye—setting a foundation of rejection which Roberto had played on, creating a lethal structure of lies with supposedly just cause.

Luc could not bring himself to sympathise with his mother’s grief when he was constantly conscious of the damage his brother had wrought, not to mention the years he’d missed of his own son’s life. Besides which, her approval meant nothing to him any more.

He wondered if his mother knew about Matt or had his father protected her from any unsettling knowledge of an unwanted grandchild. If he had kept Matt’s existence from her, the cat would certainly be out of the bag tonight!

He left his car parked near the front door which was promptly opened by the butler who informed him his parents were in the formal drawing room. Interesting, Luc thought grimly. Having called ahead, he was expected. No doubt his courtesy call had alerted his father to the possibility of serious news behind it so he was getting the grand treatment, designed to impress on him what he might be giving up in going against his parents’ wishes.

Futile game-playing. He’d moved beyond any influence his father could bring to bear on him. Even professionally. He could walk away from the Peretti Corporation and start his own business, if necessary.

He didn’t wait for the butler to usher him into the drawing room, moving ahead with quick purposeful strides, opening the door himself. His father was standing in front of the marble fireplace, the dominant figure amongst all his prized material possessions. His mother was sitting very upright in a nearby armchair. Still wearing black, he noted, but her regal demeanour telegraphed that her attention could be courted again.

She wore a full complement of jewellery and she’d obviously been to a beauty salon today, her thick wavy grey hair groomed to perfection, not a strand out of place, her fingernails buffed and polished. Her face was skilfully made up to presentation standard and Luc reflected on how imposing she could be when it suited her—totally intimidating to Skye.

‘Mamma…more yourself again, I see,’ he said dryly, walking forward to confront them more closely.

‘No thanks to you, Luciano, since you haven’t seen fit to come home for nine months,’ his father remonstrated.

He shrugged. ‘This isn’t my home. You both know where I live…if I was needed,’ he added in a pointed drawl.

‘It’s not a case of need,’ came the brusque retort. ‘Out of respect for your mother, you should have—’

‘He is here now, Maurizio,’ his mother broke in, giving Luc a gracious nod. ‘Please sit down. It has been a long time.’

He propped himself on the well-cushioned armrest of a sofa, not about to let his father stand over him. ‘I assume Dad told you what I’ve been doing. If you were interested in re-acquainting yourself with Skye Sumner and meeting our son, you could have called me, Mamma.’

Her lips compressed, whether in disapproval or frustration Luc wasn’t sure, but clearly his words came as no shock to her. She knew all right. Her gaze turned straight to her husband in a sharp demand for him to deal with it.

Luc waited for his reply, wanting to be clued in on how they viewed the situation. His father wore his poker-face, not giving anything away. His reply was laced with careful diplomacy.

‘We felt any re-acquainting was best left to you…to make a time…if it was what you wanted.’

So the policy had been to wait. No red carpet welcome was about to be rolled out. Not while ever there was an outside chance that Luc might come to his senses when there was no family support forthcoming, no turnaround to oblige his feelings. A complete stand-off.

Luc eyed his father with open scepticism. ‘I did ask at Easter, Dad. You made it clear a meeting was not to your liking.’

‘In front of all our friends?’ he scoffed as though the idea was absurd.

‘You could have put Skye and Matt at ease with you before your guests arrived.’

He waved an angry dismissal. ‘The timing was wrong.’

‘When will it be right?’ Luc mocked. ‘The truth is you had Skye unjustly trashed and can’t bring yourself to offer her the apology she deserves, let alone acknowledge the beautiful person she is, and has always been.’

It earned a furiously resentful glare.

Luc shook his head and delivered the bottom line. ‘If you’re waiting for Skye to go away, you’ll be waiting the rest of our lives.’

Thin-lipped silence.

His mother’s hands fretted at each other as she waited for her husband’s next move.

Luc didn’t wait. He bluntly called the next move for him. ‘You took, Dad. As far as I’m concerned, it’s up to you—both of you—to come to reasonable terms with what I’m about to take back.’

His mother shifted uneasily, her face showing anxiety as she quickly asked, ‘What does that mean?’

‘It means that Skye and I are getting married.’

‘No! This cannot be!’ She rose in agitation, turning in protest to her husband. ‘You said this would not happen, Maurizio. You said—’

He sliced a dismissive wave to silence the outpouring. ‘It’s not done yet, Flavia.’ He turned a frown of intense disapproval to Luc. ‘If you must marry this woman…’

‘Her name is Skye. Skye Sumner,’ Luc repeated, ramming her name down his father’s throat.

‘…a wedding must be planned…a proper church wedding…’

‘More delaying tactics, Dad?’

‘You are my son! Your marriage has to be celebrated in an appropriate manner.’

‘Then you should have come to the party earlier. It’s taken me all these months to win Skye’s trust and I won’t throw it away to accommodate a family who has made no gesture towards welcoming her into it. I’ve finally persuaded her to sign the necessary forms and we’ll be getting married as soon as it’s legally possible.’

‘Which is when?’ his father shot at him.

Luc gave a derisive laugh as he straightened up from the armrest. ‘So you can use the time to stop it, Dad?’ His eyes glittered out and out war. ‘Take one step in that direction…’

‘Enough!’ his mother cried, swinging a fierce gaze from one to the other. ‘Enough, Maurizio! I will not lose this son and I want my grandchild. If we have to accept this woman as Luciano’s wife, we will.’ She turned to Luc with an indomitable air. ‘It must be a proper wedding with all the families invited. I will see to it myself.’

‘Flavia…’ Anger at her insubordination.

She rebelled against it, bristling with her own anger as she stated, ‘I will not have Luciano shame us by marrying in a clandestine fashion. It is bad enough that his bride is not of the Italian community.’

‘With a bastard child,’ his father savagely reminded her.

‘And whose fault is it that my son was born out of wedlock?’ Luc sliced at him.

His father’s chin jerked up in aggressive pride, ignoring the accusation to address his wife. ‘It cannot be supported, Flavia. I will not support it.’

‘You chose a wife for Roberto who could not carry a baby full-term,’ she fired back at him. ‘Where is our future, Maurizio?’

‘In limbo until our son sees sense,’ he said in disgust.

‘Then in limbo it will stay,’ Luc declared with steely resolve.

‘Luciano…’ his mother pleaded.

‘No, Mamma, I will not change my mind. I am sorry to bring you shame by not having a traditional wedding, but you and Dad have chosen to keep Skye alienated, and as long as she remains this woman or that woman to you, I won’t let you near her to plan a wedding or anything else.’

‘She has to do it for you or you will be an outcast, Luciano,’ came the fierce rejoinder. ‘If she loves you…’

‘Skye always loved me. And was put through hell for it. Because of any lack of caring from this family, she brought up our son alone. I need to prove my love for her, not the other way around, Mamma.’

‘There was caring,’ she argued. ‘Your father set up a trust fund.’

‘Which was not administered as it should have been.’ He swung a hard gaze to his father. ‘Right, Dad?’

‘The intention was there,’ he tersely countered.

‘The intention to keep Skye and my son at a distance. Which you’re still doing, regardless of how I feel about it.’

His father threw up his hands in exasperation. ‘You were in shock at learning what was done for your own good. Making rash judgements. But to persist in this folly…to turn your back on your family…’

‘A family that deceived me? Robbed me of five years of my son’s life?’

‘Stop!’ his mother cried vehemently. ‘You are like two bulls locking horns and I will not have it. There is the child to consider, Maurizio. He is our only grandchild.’

‘There is Skye to consider, as well, Mamma. I will not let Matt near anyone who doesn’t treat his mother with the respect she deserves. He’s a happy little boy, very much due to his mother’s caring, and I don’t want any shadow put on his life. He knows nothing but love…’

‘You think I won’t love him?’ his mother cried in obvious angst at the prospect of being kept from the only grandchild she had.

‘I doubt that ignoring and disapproving of his mother will seem like love to Matt. He’s a very bright, intelligent child.’ Luc couldn’t resist proudly adding, ‘He could read books, even before he went to school.’

‘You hear that, Maurizio? This child you thought would be no good? At five years of age he can read!’

‘And he shot more goals at soccer this year than any other boy on his team,’ Luc went on, deliberately rubbing in what his father was missing—the game of soccer being one of his passions, as it was with most Italians.

‘It is as well you find some joy in the boy because you will find none in this marriage,’ his father thundered, refusing to be moved from his stance.

‘You’re wrong, Dad,’ Luc said quietly. ‘I feel alive with Skye. She fills the emptiness I’ve known for far too long.’

‘There will be an even greater emptiness when you find yourself ostracised from all the Italian families.’

It would happen, too. His father would make it happen. A line would be drawn, with no crossing over from either side. He remembered the conversation with Skye when she’d said they were prisoners of their backgrounds and he’d expressed a wish to be free of the oppressive constriction of his. She hadn’t believed him—it wasn’t how he was acting—and he realised now why she’d hung back from committing herself to marrying him.

Because he’d been still hanging on, working for the Peretti Corporation, maintaining at least that professional link, hoping for a change of attitude, a change of heart from his parents, wanting an acceptance of his reality, thinking he could force an acceptance— blindly tied to bonds that had to be broken, proving to Skye he was truly free of them.

An act of love for an act of faith.

He looked at his father who’d ruled so much of his life, but would rule no more. ‘My resignation will be on your desk Monday morning, Dad. Effective immediately.’

‘You can’t do that!’ he blustered, clearly appalled by this decision and seizing on a cogent argument against it. ‘You’re under contract for the resort in Far North Queensland.’

‘Then I’m giving notice that this will be the last contract I’ll work on. As soon as it’s done…’

‘You’ll give up everything for this woman?’ he yelled, his face reddening with the intensity of his outrage.

Yes, he would.

He’d told Skye he would.

It was well past time he did it.

He shook his head over his father’s total lack of understanding of what Skye gave him. There was no point in trying to explain what wouldn’t be heard anyway. He simply said, ‘I just won’t be held by your expectations of me any longer. Your father emigrated to Australia on his own to build a new life for himself, Dad. I can make a new life elsewhere, too.’

‘No! No! You must stop this!’ his mother broke in again. ‘You men and your headstrong pride! You are breaking my heart! Both of you!’ She dropped back into her armchair, slumping over, her hands pressed to her chest.

‘See what you’ve done? Upsetting your mother?’ His father bellowed at him, striding over to the chair to put a comforting arm around her.

Emotional blackmail.

The weeping and wailing would start any second.

‘I’m sorry, Mamma, but this situation was not of my making,’ Luc said, softening his tone while still holding to his own determination. ‘We all have choices.’ He cast one last look at his father to state unequivocally, ‘I’ve made mine.’

Then he walked out.

Out of the drawing room.

Out of the multi-million dollar mansion.

Out of the lives of his parents.

He could start a new life elsewhere.

And he would.

His own family, making their own friends, completely free of the past.