Wife By Arrangement

CHAPTER SIX

THE Residenza was eerily quiet. The vast hordes of guests had swarmed all over it, devouring the feast, hungrier and thirstier for the excitement of having something horrifying to talk about. Now they were all gone, save for one or two who lived too far away to depart that night. In the morning they too would vanish.

The wedding cake remained uneaten, because everyone had been too superstitious to touch it. It stood tall and beautiful in its white, shimmering glory, celebrating a lovers’ union that would never be.

Heather stood in the semi-darkness of the great hall, looking at the cake, with its tiny bride and groom on the topmost tier. She was trapped in limbo, unable to go forward or back. The way back involved too many painful thoughts. The way forward was blocked by her promise.

She felt slightly giddy, and recalled that she’d eaten nothing since the night before. This morning she’d refused breakfast. Too excited. She would eat later, at the reception, she’d thought. And when they cut the cake she’d planned to take the two little figures from the top and treasure them always. Well, they were still there, if she wanted them.

Suddenly she broke. All day she’d used Baptista’s illness to fend off the truth, but now there was nothing to protect her from it. Lorenzo didn’t love her, had deserted her in front of the whole cathedral. The dream of love that she’d believed in had turned out to be a monstrous, sickening farce.

At this moment she forgot the doubts that had plagued her only the night before. They belonged in the realm of reason and common sense and it was too soon to heed them.

What tortured her now were memories of the time when Lorenzo had been the young man who charmed her and made life sweet with his kindness, his cheerful good nature, and his adoration. Her feelings for him might have turned out to be no more than infatuation, but they had been real enough in their way, and now they were bitterly painful. She covered her eyes with her hand and leaned forward, swaying against the table, while anguish shook her. Tears threatened but she fought them back.

I will not cry. I will not cry.

At least, not now. Not until she could be alone, away from this house, away from this island, away from Renato Martelli.

A footstep made her whirl around. Renato stood there, watching her. Furious at his intrusion, she pulled herself together and spoke as calmly as she could. ‘How is your mother?’

‘Asleep when I left her. The doctors think it was just a giddy spell.’

‘And she’s in no danger?’

‘She has a bad heart. But this wasn’t a heart attack.’

‘Fine. Then I can go soon?’

‘If you want to hurt her. She has welcomed you as her daughter-’

‘But I’m not her daughter,’ Heather said harshly, ‘nor will I ever be-’

‘You don’t understand. I’m not talking about legalities. I’m saying that she loves you. From the moment you arrived she opened her arms to you. Didn’t you feel that?’

‘Yes, I did, and it meant the world to me, but now-’

‘Now you’ll turn your back on her? Is that how you repay her kindness?’

‘I’ve said I’ll stay until she returns home. I can’t promise further than that.’

The sound of her own voice startled her. It sounded hard with the effort of suppressing all emotion, not like herself at all. Or perhaps this stern, dry-eyed, controlled woman was who she was now.

One of the family maids was hovering uneasily. She asked Renato something in Sicilian. ‘She wants to know what she should do with the cake,’ he said.

Heather stared at him, aghast. She was starving, devastated, with every nerve at breaking point, and her exhausted mind on the edge of hallucinating. The prosaic question caught her off guard and almost sent her into hysterics. ‘How would I know?’ she asked wildly. ‘I’ve never been in this situation before. Oddly enough, the books of wedding etiquette don’t cover it. You suggest something. You’re the man who has an answer for every problem, even if some of your answers fall apart at awkward moments.’

He flinched but stayed calm. ‘I’ll tell her to send it to the children’s home.’

‘Good idea. But not the top tier. Ask her to take that down now and give it to me.’

Renato did so. The maid climbed on a chair and reached up to lift down the tiny cake, adorned with the figures under a flowered arch. But her hand shook and the little bridegroom fell to the floor and broke in two. Renato gave her a nod of reassurance, and she hurried away.

‘Why do you want that?’ he asked as Heather surveyed the small top tier.

‘To eat, of course. I think the bride should have some of her own wedding cake, don’t you?’ She took up a sharp knife and cut into the ornately decorated icing. ‘Have some with me.’

‘I don’t think-’

‘Then pour me some champagne. You’re not going to deny me wedding cake and champagne on my big day, are you?’

He found two glasses and filled them. ‘When did you last eat?’

‘Yesterday. I couldn’t manage anything this morning.’

‘You’ll regret drinking champagne on an empty stomach.’

She poured two glasses and thrust one at him. ‘Drink it with me. Let’s toast the day you brought about.’

‘Heather, I know you must hate me-’

‘And try contempt and loathing. Especially contempt.’

She drained her champagne glass and refilled it. ‘I want to know how much of Lorenzo’s letter was true. When he returned from Stockholm early-that was why? To tell you that he wanted to call it all off?’

‘Look-’

‘Tell me, damn you!’

‘Yes,’ he said reluctantly. ‘He said that.’

‘And you kept it to yourself?’

‘Why should I tell you what could hurt you? I talked to Lorenzo and-’ He seemed to have trouble going on.

“‘Made him see reason,” was his charming expression. You mean you told him he had to marry me whether he liked it or not. How dare you? What do you think I am? Some helpless bird-brain with no guts or independence?’

‘No, but after what you told me-about your previous fiancé-’

‘You told him that?’ she cried, aghast. ‘Oh, you’ve done everything you can to humiliate me, haven’t you? I can just hear you-“You can’t walk out on her, Lorenzo. The poor creature’s already been deserted once. You’ve got to see it through, however much you’d rather not.”’

‘Would I have done better to let him walk away from his obligations?’

Eyes flashing, she whirled on him. ‘He did walk away. You just made sure he did it at the worst possible moment. And why obligations? I was marrying for love and I thought he was doing the same. I don’t want a husband who’s only doing his duty.

‘If we’d broken up in London I could have coped. I’d still have had my job, my friends, my life there. But you wanted our marriage, to suit yourself. You had to play God with people’s lives, to suit yourself. And now Lorenzo has vanished, I’m stranded and your mother is ill, all because Renato Martelli has to have his own way.’

He didn’t answer, but there was a drawn look about his face that checked her. ‘I’m sorry,’ she said wearily. ‘I didn’t mean to throw your mother’s illness up at you.’

‘Why not? It’s true.’

‘Yes, but I shouldn’t have said it. I shouldn’t-’ Her voice thickened, and she set her jaw. She would not weep. She would not.

‘Heather-’ He reached for her but she backed off, eyes flashing.

‘I’m warning you, Renato-if you touch me, there’ll be violence.’

He checked himself. ‘Perhaps enough has been said for tonight,’ he sighed. ‘I’m sure you’d prefer me to leave you.’

She didn’t answer. Her face was unyielding. As he left her Renato felt a flash of some emotion he could hardly identify. He was a man who feared nothing, so his own dread took him by surprise. He didn’t know this woman who looked as though a stone lay where her heart should be. He only knew that he was guilty of some terrible crime.

Next morning, when the last guest had left, Renato sought out Heather and said, ‘I thought you should know that I’ve traced Lorenzo. He’s staying with friends in Naples.’

He didn’t look directly at her as he spoke. That way he didn’t have to notice her pallor, or the signs that she hadn’t slept. But he couldn’t help knowing that she tensed at the sound of Lorenzo’s name.

‘Does he know that his mother is ill?’ Heather asked quietly.

‘No, I haven’t spoken to him.’

‘You must. He ought to return and see her.’

‘There’s no need for that,’ he said sharply. ‘It’s not serious. She’ll be home tomorrow.’

‘But it would mean a lot to her to see him.’

‘It might also strain her.’

‘I think you’re wrong,’ Heather said firmly. ‘It’s much harder for her to wonder about him.’

After a moment’s silence she looked up to see Renato regarding her strangely. ‘You’re very determined to fetch him back,’ he said quietly.

Once she’d hardly been aware of having a temper. Now a word from Renato could trigger it. ‘If you mean what I think you do, you should be ashamed. It’s all over between Lorenzo and me. I’d never marry him now.’

‘Perhaps you think you mean that. But if he came back and turned on the charm-’

‘Well, you should know all about the power of Lorenzo’s charm,’ she said bleakly. ‘It was you who told him to give me the full blast of it for your own ends.’

She heard the slight intake of his breath and knew she’d struck home. She was glad, she told herself angrily. Let him suffer as she suffered.

‘Besides,’ she added, ‘he’s not very likely to try to win me back, is he? Not after all the trouble he took to escape me.’

Try as she might, she couldn’t stop her voice shaking on the last words, and it made Renato say more gently, ‘It wasn’t you he was escaping, but me. And I know my brother better than you. He values things more when he’s lost them.’

She gave him the cool, defiant look that was her way of coping. ‘So there’s hope yet,’ she said ironically. ‘Lorenzo will make a play for me, and I’ll be fool enough to fall for it. Cue wedding bells, summon all the guests back, and-hey presto! Renato Martelli gets his own way again.’

‘For pity’s sake!’ he shouted. ‘Can’t you understand-?’ He checked himself. ‘I’m sorry. I just wish I could find the right words to say to you.’

‘Does it occur to you that there aren’t any?’

‘I’m beginning to be afraid that you’re right. Heather, won’t you let me ask your pardon? I never dreamed of anything like this happening.’

‘No, you wanted life arranged your way, and to hell with anyone else. I did a lot of thinking last night, and several things came back to me. Chiefly the fact that nobody mentioned marriage until you did, that night in London. You said Lorenzo was talking about marriage, but that came as news to him. I saw his face. I thought his expression was embarrassment but actually it was surprise.’

‘He had told me that if he thought of marriage it would be to you-’ Renato said unwillingly.

‘If? But it was a very big if. I’m almost as angry about what you’ve done to Lorenzo as I am about what you’ve done to me. You pushed him into something he wasn’t ready for, and now he’s the one who looks bad.’

‘He could have stood up to me and refused,’ Renato said angrily.

‘Oh, please! Who stands up to you?’

‘You do.’

‘And much good it does me! Now, I think you should get him back here to see his mother. Tell him there’ll be no tears or reproaches from me. He’s not the one I blame.’

‘Not blame him? After what he did to you-?’

‘After what you did to me. Lorenzo tried to tell me honestly about his doubts, but you stopped him. If he and I could have talked I’d have released him at once, quietly, here at home, instead of having to do it in public. That was your doing, not his. So tell him not to worry.’

After a moment he said, ‘If we could talk naturally I could tell you how much I admire you for the dignity and spirit you’ve shown in this. But I know that my admiration will only provoke your contempt.’

‘Right first time,’ she said crisply. ‘Now, please, go and make that call.’

She spent the day at the hospital. Baptista slept a good deal but when she awoke her eyes sought Heather, always finding her in a chair by the window, and she smiled with relief. When Renato arrived Heather rose to go, but before she could do so she heard him say in a low voice, ‘Lorenzo will be home this evening, Mamma.’

She left the room before she could become too aware of them looking at her, and went to have a coffee. Before he left Renato joined her.

‘You were right,’ he said. ‘The news has cheered her up. It was generous of you to insist. I hope it won’t come too hard on you.’

‘I have no feelings one way or the other,’ she assured him.

‘I wish I knew if that were true.’

‘Does it matter? It’s your mother who counts.’

‘But you count too. We need to talk very soon-’

‘I don’t think so.’

‘Surely you can see that matters can’t be left like this?’

‘Of course. When she’s better I’ll arrange to return Bella Rosaria, and then I’ll go back to England.’

‘That wasn’t what I meant. There are other things-’

‘No, Renato, there’s nothing else. I’ll go back to her now.

Towards evening Baptista became wakeful, growing alert at every sound.

‘He’ll be here soon,’ Heather promised.

‘My dear, will it break your heart to see him?’

‘Hearts don’t break that easily,’ she said with a determined smile.

‘I think they do-at least for a while.’

‘I’ll tell you something,’ Heather said in a rush. ‘It’s not just losing Lorenzo-it’s losing everything. That day we went to Bella Rosaria, I told you how right it’s all felt since I arrived. I was so sure that fate had brought me to the right place to marry the right man.’ She gave an ironic little laugh. ‘It just shows you how wrong you can be.’

‘I don’t think you were wrong,’ Baptista said.

‘I must have been. I misread every signal, even my own. I’m different. I can’t recognise my own reactions. Once this would have made me cry my heart out. Now I just want to do something forceful, to show people that I’m not to be trifled with.’

‘That’s a very Sicilian reaction, my dear,’ Baptista said. ‘That feeling of rightness you had when you arrived-it was a true feeling. But it wasn’t Lorenzo who caused it. It was Sicily, telling you that you’d come home.’

‘What a charming theory-’

‘But you believe it’s just an old woman’s fancy. My dear, think. Forget Lorenzo, and think of the land. I’ve seen you standing on the terrace, watching it, when you thought nobody knew. Think of it in the morning when the mist is rising, or at noon when the shadows are deep and sharp-’

‘Or in the early evening when the light is that strange soft gold that happens nowhere else,’ Heather mused, half to herself.

‘And the language that you’re learning so easily,’ Baptista reminded her. ‘In fact, everything about this country comes easily to you. Even the heat.’

Yes, Heather thought. She’d flowered in the sun and it had relaxed all her instincts, blurring the edges of her personality, making her feel things that otherwise…

But that was all over now. The trauma she’d suffered in the cathedral had been like a blow to the head, knocking out emotion and sensation, so that she could function calmly. With any luck it would remain that way until she returned to England, and became herself again. And what she suffered there would be nobody’s business but her own.

‘I’m English, Mamma,’ she said now. ‘I belong there.’

‘No, you belong here,’ Baptista said firmly. ‘And you must remain.’

A shocking suspicion swept Heather. ‘No! If you’re thinking what I think you are-I could never marry Lorenzo now.’

‘Of course not.’ She stopped, alerted by a step in the corridor outside. The door opened and Heather stiffened as she saw Lorenzo. The next moment there was a glad cry from Baptista, and she opened her arms to her son. He was across the room in a moment to embrace his mother.

She tried to leave before he saw her, but at that moment he looked up and a deep flush spread over his face. ‘I’ll leave you two alone,’ she said. She kissed Baptista and departed quickly.

The little scene was over too fast for her to be aware of feeling anything. It was only when she was walking down the corridor that a wave of emotion swept her. Her head might tell her that their marriage would never have worked, but it was too soon for her to see Lorenzo without hurt. She checked her steps and leaned against the wall, pressing her hand against her mouth.

‘Heather!’ It was Renato’s voice.

She looked up. ‘Your brother has arrived,’ she said. ‘I’ve left them together.’

‘Are you all right?’

She gave a little puzzled laugh. ‘Why on earth wouldn’t I be all right? I’m going home now. Goodnight.’

It was a bad night to be thinking of lovers and honeymoons. The full moon was exquisitely reflected in the sea, and turned the land to pure silver. A sensible woman would go in right now, not sit here on the terrace, thinking of how she and her husband should be on a boat, cruising beneath that moon, lost in each other. And she was a sensible woman. It was being sensible that had enabled her to survive the last few days.

She heard a sound behind her and turned to find Lorenzo standing in the shadows. She sensed him take a deep breath and straighten his shoulders before he stepped forward.

She tried to use anticipation to suppress the pain of seeing his face, but nothing could change the fact that it was the one she’d fallen in love with, and whose smile had brightened her life.

‘I’ve come to ask your forgiveness, and to listen to whatever you have to say to me,’ he said quietly.

She raised her chin and confronted him with a bright manner. She even managed a touch of cheerfulness. ‘What are you expecting?’ she asked. ‘A tirade crashing about your ears? Reproaches, tears-“How could you do this to me?” Let’s take all that as read. I don’t have the energy for a big dramatic scene.’

‘But you must be angry with me.’

‘Must I? Well, I suppose I am, a bit. You should have told me the truth earlier.’

‘I meant to, when I came back from Stockholm, but Renato said-’

‘Stop right there. The less said about Renato, the better.’ After a moment she sighed. ‘He’s injured us both, and if there’s one good thing about this mess it’s that I shan’t have to be related to him.’ She gave an ironic laugh. ‘The night we met I told him that I’d never marry you because of him. I should have stuck to that. Ah, well! I didn’t. My mistake. Let’s not make a tragedy of it.’

‘How strong and brave you are!’ he said quietly. ‘You make me ashamed.’

Heather regarded him askance, a faint touch of amusement in her eyes. ‘Did you expect me to go into a decline because you ran away? Don’t flatter yourself. You just weren’t ready for marriage, and I’ve got better use for my tears than to waste them on you.’

‘You really don’t care for me any more?’

‘Luckily for us both, I don’t.’

‘But the night before our w-the other night-you flung yourself into my arms and told me again and again how much you loved me-’

‘That’s enough,’ she said sharply. ‘The past is the past. Believe me, you wouldn’t really want me swooning all over you and telling you that you’d broken my heart. You’d find that very uncomfortable.’

‘Yes, yes, of course,’ he said hastily. Then a hint of his charming smile crept over his face and he asked ruefully, ‘Just the same, couldn’t you flatter my vanity by being just a little bit sad?’

‘Not even a little bit. Now be off with you.’

He turned to go, but stopped suddenly and said, ‘If things had been different-if we’d been allowed to go at our own pace-I might not have proposed marriage just then, but when we’d parted I’d have missed you unbearably, and-’

‘Stop,’ she said, suddenly unable to bear any more, for this was the thought that tormented her. ‘Don’t talk like that. Go away, Lorenzo, please.’

‘Darling-’

‘Don’t call me that!’

‘I really was falling in love with you,’ he said huskily. ‘If only we’d been granted a little time-’

‘Go!’ she said fiercely.

She kept her face away from him, and didn’t move until the fading footsteps told her that he’d gone. She was more hurt than she wanted to admit to herself. Their love was over. She could never marry Lorenzo now. But the habit of affection lingered and the misery was still sharp.

Lorenzo found both his brothers in Renato’s study, pouring whisky.

‘Come in,’ Renato told him. ‘Here.’ He held out a glass.

‘Thanks, I need it.’ Lorenzo downed the malt in one gulp and held out his glass for more.

‘You only got what you asked for,’ Bernardo observed.

‘Actually, I didn’t. I thought it would be dreadful-tears and reproaches-’

‘Then you don’t know the woman you were supposed to marry,’ Renato said. ‘I could have told you she had more dignity than that-more dignity than you or any of us.’

‘Yes, but-not a single tear, not a word of regret.’

Renato’s eyes narrowed. ‘By God, she knew how to deal with you!’ he said softly.

‘Once, I even thought she was laughing at me.’

Bernardo whistled softly. ‘An exceptional woman.’

‘Yes,’ Renato snapped. He poured himself another full tumbler of whisky.

‘Haven’t you had enough?’ Bernardo asked mildly.

Renato swung on him. ‘Mind your own damned business!’

Bernardo shrugged. ‘It’s nothing to me. But it’s not like you to drink heavily-’

‘Well, tonight I feel like drinking the cellar dry.’

‘You’re the one she’s mad at,’ Lorenzo told him. ‘She blames the whole thing on you, and she’s right. If you’d kept out of our affairs, who knows what might have happened?’

‘Spare me the happy ever after ending,’ Renato sneered. ‘I’m not convinced.’

‘Well, I am,’ Lorenzo said with a flash of anger.

‘You’re out of your mind. It’s much too late for second thoughts.’

‘You wouldn’t like to take a little bet on that, would you? Heather knows we’d have been all right, but for you. And we might be yet. She’s a wonderful woman, and maybe it isn’t too late-’

He got no further. Renato’s hands were around his throat, choking the life out of him. Renato’s eyes, close to his, were glittering, filled with murder.

‘Renato, for God’s sake stop!’ That was Bernardo, hauling him off, having to use all his strength, holding him back while Lorenzo choked.

‘Get out of here,’ Renato raged. ‘Get out of my sight!’

‘Be damned to you!’ Lorenzo said hoarsely. ‘Why didn’t you stay out of my affairs?’

‘Get out, for God’s sake!’ Bernardo told him. ‘You two killing each other is all we need.’

Lorenzo flung Renato a bitter look and departed. Bernardo kept a cautious hold on his brother until the door was closed.

‘Oh, the hell with it! Let me go,’ Renato said. Bernardo did so at once. ‘What are you doing here, anyway? Why aren’t you with your lady?’

‘I can wait,’ Bernardo said. ‘She’s worth waiting for.’

‘Don’t tell me this family’s actually going to have a wedding after all?’

‘I think so. But that’s for your ears alone.’ Bernardo gave one of his rare smiles. ‘As the family head, do you approve?’

‘Would you take any notice if I didn’t?’

‘I’d mind. It wouldn’t stop me.’

‘For what it’s worth, you have my blessing. You’re a fortunate man.’

‘I know. I can’t really believe it. I keep waiting for the snag that will ruin everything.’

‘There’s no snag.’ Renato added quietly, ‘One of us, at least, is going to be lucky in love.’

They chinked glasses. Then Bernardo said uneasily, ‘Lorenzo is still our brother.’

‘I know that.’

‘I think you should be careful.’

‘Of him?’

‘No. Of yourself. Goodnight.’

He went without another word, leaving Renato alone, wishing he could get rid of the tension that plagued him. He poured most of his whisky back into the bottle, knowing that wasn’t the answer. Nor was sleep the answer.

He slammed his hand down, realising that there was no answer. There hadn’t been one since that evening when he’d met a young woman who’d told him to jump in the river. He’d admired her, been amused by her, but he was so used to planning his life as he wished that he hadn’t seen the danger, and had actually encouraged her to marry his brother.

The danger had come in a blinding flash when it was far too late: just before the wedding, when no man of honour could make a move. She’d touched his heart with her vulnerability, an experience so strange that he’d been thrown off balance. And in that confused, blinded state he’d offered her his brotherly help. After that his hands had been tied.

In the cathedral it seemed that Lorenzo had solved the problem. Except that there still echoed through his head the tormenting memory of a young woman, a few hours before what should have been her wedding, her voice carrying sweetly on the night air.

‘I just wanted to say how much I love you-love you-love you-’

Women had always fallen in love with Lorenzo, and stayed in love with him, long after hope was gone. It wasn’t just his looks or his easy good nature. It was a mysterious ‘something’ that wouldn’t let them go, like a magic spell. Renato had never begrudged him before.

And some men, he thought, were just the opposite, as though they carried a curse. Suddenly he saw his mother’s agonised face as it had been when he came round after the bike accident. Other faces followed-Heather reading the letter in the cathedral, her love gone, her career destroyed; his mother again, distraught and fainting; even Lorenzo, pale and ashamed at what he’d been driven to do.

All hurt because of himself, because he destroyed whatever he touched.