Wife By Arrangement

CHAPTER TEN

FOR her second wedding in Palermo Cathedral Heather chose a much simpler dress than her first. It was of ivory silk, because that suited her lightly tanned complexion better than white, and she borrowed it from a hire shop in Palermo.

‘It didn’t cost me a penny,’ she told Renato and Baptista triumphantly. ‘I made them a gift of the old one and they were delighted to let me hire one free.’

Baptista gave a crow of triumph. ‘What a business-woman! Didn’t I tell you?’ This was to Renato.

‘You did.’ He was grinning. ‘Perhaps your suggestion was right, Mamma.’

‘Right?’ Heather looked from one to the other.

‘Mamma thinks you should join the business at once,’ Renato explained.

‘I shall be retiring soon and you must take my place,’ Baptista said. ‘Otherwise there won’t be a female voice on the board, and that would be disaster.’

‘You’re on the board?’

‘You’ll enjoy our board meetings,’ Renato told her ironically. ‘First Mamma tells us what she wants. Then the meeting begins, she proposes the motion and we all vote according to her instructions.’

‘Baloney!’ Heather said frankly.

‘No wonder Mamma wants you to take her place. You’re as big a bully as she is.’

‘Take her place?’

‘I can’t go on for ever,’ Baptista said. ‘My dear, you have brains, beauty and business sense. In short, you’re a considerable asset. Naturally I was determined to “acquire” you.’

It might have sounded clinical but Heather already knew that her future mother-in-law loved her. The effect, as Baptista had intended, was to make her feel valued, and to show her to herself not just as bride, but as a woman taking her place in a community. This was what arranged marriages were for.

She would have preferred a quiet wedding, but every guest from last time must be asked back, or they would be offended. So the preparations went ahead on the same scale. In the kitchens the chefs worked night and day to outdo their previous efforts. Even the cake had an extra tier.

There was one other aspect which would be exactly the same. Once more Bernardo would be the best man, and on the night before the wedding Heather drove to Palermo Airport to collect Angie, who had flown in to be her bridesmaid. They dined together in a restaurant, and slipped into the house later, unseen by Bernardo.

‘He really hasn’t suspected?’ Angie asked as she prepared for bed in their old room.

‘Not a thing. Nobody has mentioned your coming, and the first Bernardo will know is when he sees you walking down the aisle with me tomorrow. You haven’t changed, have you?’

‘Not by a whisper,’ Angie said wistfully. ‘And him?’

‘He’s as unhappy as you are,’ Heather said. ‘Trust me. I’m going to fix this.’

‘Goodness, but you sounded like Baptista then,’ Angie said, startled.

‘That’s what they want me for,’ Heather said lightly.

‘Pardon?’

‘This is an arranged marriage. Very suitable.’

‘And that’s why you’re marrying Renato? Because it’s “suitable”.’

‘Certainly,’ Heather said, a little stiffly.

Angie smiled. ‘You’re kidding yourself.’

The morning came. The family departed. Cousin Enrico, who was giving her away, escorted her to the car, and in a few minutes they’d reached the cathedral. This time there was no breeze to stir her veil, no crowd to cry ‘grazziusu’. No romance, no poetry. Only the certainty that this time her bridegroom would be there, waiting to make the deal. A sensible marriage for sensible people.

Then they had started the long journey down the aisle to the high altar. With a sense of shock she saw Renato’s face. Not sensible. Not businesslike. Strangely pale, stunned, exactly as he’d looked on that other day as she descended the stairs to take his arm for him to lead her to her marriage with his brother.

She’d meant to glance at Bernardo to see how he reacted to Angie, but the sight of Renato, his eyes fixed on her with a look she couldn’t understand, wiped everything else from her mind. The cathedral vanished, the guests disappeared. There was only herself and Renato, about to become a part of each other’s lives for ever.

The whole congregation seemed to he holding its breath as they made their responses, and to heave a collective sigh when they turned to walk back down the aisle, into the sunlight: husband and wife. The arrangement was made, the deal done. Both parties were satisfied.

At the reception in the Residenza they each managed to get through their parts without too much self-consciousness. Heather smiled and cut the cake. They toasted each other in champagne and tried not to seem too aware of what everyone was thinking. There was applause as they took the dance floor together.

Out of the corner of her eye Heather saw Angie dancing with Bernardo. They seemed lost in each other, but their faces were distraught, almost desperate, and her heart sank.

‘Did you really think it would work, bringing her here?’ Renato murmured.

‘I hoped,’ she said wistfully. ‘They love each other so much.’

‘Which is why neither of them can see reason. Not like us.’

‘I guess that makes us the lucky ones,’ she said, smiling.

He returned her smile. ‘I think we might be.’

Something in that smile made her aware of the movement of his legs against hers through the material of her bridal gown. His hand was firm in the small of her back, and he was holding her very close. Once before they had danced, and she’d fought to deny her growing physical awareness of him. But now she didn’t have to deny it. Her heart beat a little faster.

At last the guests began to leave, except for the ones who were staying the night, and the bride and groom were free to slip away. Her things had already been moved into the room with the big four-poster bed that for years he had occupied alone.

Now it was hers too. Signora Martelli.

There was only one light in the room, a bedside lamp that cast a small glow over the deep red counterpane and the rest of the room into mysterious shadow. The long mirror showed her to herself, a faint muted figure, still uncertain whether she really belonged here.

Something in the silence made her turn quickly and see Renato standing just inside the door. She hadn’t heard him come in. How long, she wondered, had he been there, looking at her with that strange expression that she couldn’t read?

In this light he looked taller and more imposing than ever, except that when he moved towards her there was a new hesitancy in his manner, and she realised that he wasn’t really very sure of himself either.

Renato had had champagne set there on ice, to wait for them, with two tall crystal glasses. Renato poured two glasses and offered one to her. She raised it to him, feeling her heart quicken its beating beneath the white dress.

‘To us,’ he said. They clinked glasses.

She was still in full bridal regalia, but now he lifted off the pearl tiara and removed her veil himself, causing her hair to fall down about her shoulders. Abruptly she set her glass down. Her hand was shaking.

‘Are you all right?’ he asked. ‘It must have been a great strain for you, going through today with all those faces staring at you, wondering.’

‘For you too. In fact they were probably wondering more about you, how you felt taking on the woman your brother-ouch!’

‘I’m sorry,’ he said swiftly releasing her hair where his hand had suddenly tightened. ‘I didn’t mean to do that. I think we should agree never to refer to that-or to him-again. It’s over. It didn’t happen.’

Yes, she thought, that was the only way they could live-as though it hadn’t happened.

When Renato spoke again it was in a suspiciously cheerful voice, as though he were forcing himself to change the subject.

‘Did you see Enrico and Giuseppe vying for Mamma’s favours today?’

‘Yes. Poor Enrico was hopping with rage when she danced with Giuseppe. If she hadn’t danced with him straight after I dread to think what would have happened.’

‘Mamma wouldn’t have done that,’ he said lightly. ‘It wouldn’t have been proper, and today has been a day of great propriety. We should congratulate ourselves. We’ve made a wise marriage, bearing in mind the interests of our family and community. This is what sensible people do.’

‘It’s an excellent business arrangement,’ she agreed. ‘We both gain.’

‘I’m glad you see the position so clearly.’

But as he spoke he was letting his fingertips rest against her neck, setting off a soft excitement deep within her that made a mockery of his prosaic words. She met his eyes, wondering why there was a frown far back in them.

‘You haven’t changed your mind?’ he asked abruptly.

‘No, I haven’t changed my mind.’

‘Ah, yes, you’re a woman of your word, I remember.’ He drew her close, looking intently into her face as though trying to divine something she hadn’t told him.

She had the feeling that he couldn’t find it, because the little frown between his eyes didn’t abate. If anything it was more intense as he lowered his head so that his lips could touch her neck. She cupped his head instinctively, feeling how well it fitted there.

As his mouth moved persuasively over her skin his fingers were working on the fastening at the back of her dress. It whispered to the ground and she felt the cool night air against her skin.

But she herself couldn’t be cool. She was already burning with need for him. Something that had started the day he walked into the department store and challenged her was about to come to fruition, and she would find whether she’d gambled everything on a false dream.

He tossed his jacket and shirt aside and took her into his arms. His kiss was gentle, almost everything held back until they knew each other a little better. Their other kisses had been fierce, antagonistic. Tonight, for the first time, they had time to kiss in peace, giving each other the benefit of leisurely exploration, no rush, no quarrelling, just a man and a woman free to think only of each other.

She tried not to think of all the other, cynical kisses his lips had bestowed, or she would grow too jealous. She wanted him all to herself, now and for ever. Her mouth told him so as she welcomed him inside, relishing the feel of his tongue exploring her, teasing and inciting her. His mouth was warm and persuasive, cajoling her into pleasure. She answered with her own lips and tongue, with movements she hadn’t even known she knew, but which seemed to please him because he gave a little growl of pleasure and redoubled his onslaught.

She didn’t know where her flimsy slip went, or how she came to be lying on the bed while he tossed aside the rest of his clothes and joined her, pulling her into his arms so that she felt his chest against her, as smooth as the marble of the statues that dotted this ancient island. He was part of it, part of a civilisation that went back almost to the dawn of time, but what she sensed in him now was timeless. Civilisations had arisen from it, yet it was un-civilised, primitive and thrilling.

Once before he’d seen her naked, but she hadn’t known. Now she was in his arms again, and this time he was as naked as she, pressing her against his hard body while his hands roved over her. She explored him in turn, tentatively at first, then with growing confidence as she discovered how excitingly masculine he felt against her palms, the tautness of his muscles like sprung steel.

At some point he switched out the bedside lamp so that they were almost in darkness. Only a little light came from the great curtain-hung windows. It might have been any man holding her against him, caressing her body intimately with such skilful hands. But then she sensed the power tempered by gentleness in his embrace, felt the hard, muscular length of his thighs against her own, and knew that this could be no other man but Renato.

She felt his touch along the length of her inner thigh, seeking and finding the heart of her. Shockwaves of desire went through her as she waited for him. In the dim light she could see the gleam of his eyes. She thought they seemed troubled, almost hesitant.

‘Renato…’ she breathed.

‘You’re sure-tell me that you’re sure-’

It was hard to speak through the tide of warmth engulfing her but she managed to whisper, ‘I’m sure-I want you-’

The next moment the world was transformed into a different place as he slowly entered her, and she became his. But she had always been his. If she’d doubted it before she knew it now. She held him tightly, feeling the pleasure mount high and then higher until the world dissolved. Then she was nothing, only heat and darkness and whispered words that she didn’t understand, except that they came from the man who had become one with her and made her one with him.

When it was over he didn’t release her, but held on as though he was afraid she would slip away. But she didn’t want to slip away. She wanted to stay here for ever. She fell easily into a sweet sleep, but awoke an hour later to find him watching her. He smiled and cradled her until she slept again. The last thought in her mind was the memory of his eyes, brooding, watching, never letting her go.

It was too late in the year for a honeymoon on the boat, so they went to the airport the next morning. Angie came with them. Bernardo was still implacable and she was going home. They saw her off to England before catching the flight to Rome. After that they were going on to Paris. It was partly a working trip, as they visited their biggest customers, but Heather enjoyed becoming part of the business. In Paris they toured the couturiers and she acquired a new wardrobe that she wore for entertaining Renato’s customers in the evenings. French was one of the languages she’d studied, hoping to rise in Gossways, and she spoke it well enough to get by.

‘I shall start getting suspicious,’ Renato said as they got undressed in their suite at the Hyatt Regency. ‘I keep getting too many compliments about la belle Madame Martelli, très chic, très merveilleuse.’

‘I’m just trying to do you credit.’

‘Hm!’ His tone was deeply cynical and she chuckled. He was helping her off with a little black number she’d worn for the first time that night, but something provocative in her laugh made his hands move faster, more determinedly. The next moment the little black dress was lying in ruins on the floor and she was in his arms.

‘Renato-’

‘Shut up, I’ll buy you another,’ was the last thing he said before he silenced both of them. And in a few seconds the movement of his lips and hands had driven all else from her mind.

After their first lovemaking she had slipped easily into the rhythm of passion, so that she found herself wanting him at all times, day or night. At first her own eagerness embarrassed her slightly, but that soon passed, and with every day she learned something new about physical love.

She knew that she pleased him as much as he pleased her because nothing was too good for her. He rarely spoke of feelings, never his own. Nor did he often say a word to her that opened doors into his mind. But she had only to express a wish to have it granted.

Once he said a strange thing. As she sat looking at yet another gift of jewellery, he said abruptly, ‘You think I overdo it, don’t you?’

Thinking only to tease him she joked, ‘Not at all. After all, you did once offer me twenty thousand to sleep with you.’

But she regretted it when she saw his brows snap. Renato wasn’t without a sense of humour, but he found it hard to laugh at himself. He didn’t vent his displeasure on her, but he grew quiet in a way she was learning meant that he was upset. And when she said, ‘I was only teasing,’ he brightened too quickly.

‘Of course,’ he said. ‘I’m just in a strange mood. Where shall we eat?’

After which the subject was closed, despite all her efforts to raise it and put things right. Nor did she ever wear the jewellery because every time she tried he found fault with her appearance, until it had to be abandoned.

Jewellery was the least of it. Soon after they returned to Sicily she happened to mention the day she’d arrived, when he’d told her Lorenzo was soon flying to New York.

‘I was going to turn my pea shooter onto you, but then you said I was going too, so I had to put my pea shooter away.’

‘You fancied New York?’

‘I’ll say. That’s one of the really annoying things about you-’

‘Among so many-’

‘Definitely-the way you take the wind out of my sails when I’m getting good and mad at you.’

They were in bed, relaxing after making love. He grinned at her, curled up in the crook of his arm. ‘You enjoy getting mad at me, don’t you?’

‘It’s one of my more enjoyable hobbies, yes.’

‘Go on looking at me out of those glittering eyes. It gives me pleasurable thoughts and makes all the effort of landing you worth it.’

‘Landing me? I’m not a fish.’

‘But you were a challenge.’

‘Yes, I know some of the devious methods you used. You were supposed to be persuading Gossways to take me back on the programme, but you never called them.’

Something in his silence told her the monstrous truth. ‘It’s worse than that, isn’t it?’ she demanded, sitting up sharply. ‘You called some buddy among the big shots and made him promise not to have me back.’

‘I admit nothing.’

‘You don’t need to…’

‘You’ve got smoke coming out of your ears again.’ He sat up and reached for her. ‘Very pretty smoke, mind you…’ The last words were muffled as she thumped him with a pillow hard enough to send him right off the bed. He grabbed her as he went, and they ended up on the floor together.

‘I thought if I could make you mad enough with me-’ he tried to explain as he grappled with her wriggling body ‘-you’d marry me just for the pleasure of-in my mother’s charming phrase-kicking my shins every day. Ouch!’

‘Oh, stop making a fuss. I only used my bare foot.’

She managed to get free and climb back onto the bed, but he followed her, pinning her down. She looked up at his face, furious, her breasts rising and falling. ‘I’m warning you Renato, I’m good ’n’ mad.’

‘I know. I’ve just got a fresh bruise to prove it.’

‘Let go of me.’

‘When we’ve had a talk about this-’ His eyes roved over her nakedness, and his speech slowed as though something had distracted him. ‘It’s-important to talk,’ he said at last. ‘That’s what-’ his gaze seemed riveted by the sight of her nipples, rosy and expectant ‘-that’s what-good marriages-are made of-’

‘Talking?’ she said breathlessly.

‘Confidence between-’ his fingertips brushed one nipple ‘-husband and wife-trust-where was I?’

‘Trust-’ she gasped.

‘Trust-and shared values-honour-’

‘Honour? You? The most devious, conniving, manipulative- Don’t stop!’

‘I wasn’t going to,’ he whispered against her skin, continuing the work that had driven her half wild. After that there were no more words, no thoughts, just sensations, need and blinding nothingness. The end was explosive enough to blot out the world, leaving only heat and swirling darkness, and somewhere a man with strong arms and powerful loins to bring her joy.

In a sense that was just the trouble. There was joy, bliss, ecstasy, but not precisely happiness. Not unhappiness either, for how could any bride be unhappy with a husband who gave her all his attention and took her to new lands of sensation she’d never dreamed of before? But not to be unhappy wasn’t the same as being happy. Especially when she realised that sometimes he would use their sexual harmony to distract her from subjects he wanted to avoid.

She never gave their conversation another thought until a week later he put the tickets for New York into her hands.

‘What’s this?’ she gasped.

‘Call it a second honeymoon.’

‘But we’ve barely got back from our first.’

He shrugged. ‘I have business in New York. Of course, if you don’t want to come-’ He reached for the tickets but she seized them and backed away, laughing.

They were in New York for a week, and although he looked in on the odd customer, it never seemed to Heather that this was a vital part of his schedule. She wondered if he’d done it only to please her, but while he murmured many passionate words when they were alone in the night, he never spoke a tender, loving word by day, and his manner, although pleasant, didn’t invite her close. Sometimes it was like living with two men.

When they returned home she became more involved in the running of Bella Rosaria. She was wise enough to let Luigi keep the reins in his experienced hands, but subject to his advice she visited her tenants, discussed their problems, and began to make decisions. The revenues that came in were her own. Renato refused to make any claim on them, and even insisted on giving her a wife’s allowance. She would have liked to refuse but didn’t because she suspected that he would be hurt. It was no more than a suspicion, because she had to guess his feelings, but she sensed that she’d got this one right.

Because of his reticence she couldn’t speak out about her fast growing feelings for him. She guessed that it had been growing for some time, but she only discovered its strength when he had to be away for a week. She wouldn’t have thought it possible to miss one person so much. It wasn’t just her senses that longed for Renato, but her heart craved him night and day. It was their first separation since their marriage and it was almost unbearable.

It was nothing like the gentle pleasure of loving Lorenzo, which now looked more like a feeble infatuation with every day that passed. This love was savage and all-powerful, wiping out lesser feelings, leaving her helpless and desperate.

Their reunion was overwhelming, and somehow she was sure she would find the moment to hint at her feelings and hear something about his own. But his most enthusiastic talk was of deals he had done, and there was something in his cheerfulness that kept her at a distance.