by Sara Craven
Which, of course, he should have done before he asked her to marry him. He was a fool and more than a fool for that, he thought bitterly, but he hadn’t been able to help himself—if that was any excuse.
Her enraptured response to his loving had sent him over the edge into a kind of madness where nothing mattered other than she should belong to him for ever.
And then he’d woken and found her gone.
He’d argued with himself every mile of that headlong drive back from Suffolk, trying to convince himself that she’d done the right thing. That the enmity between their two families was too strong, and there was no way they’d ever be allowed to be together.
Her affection for her grandfather shone out of her. How would she react when she found that he, Rome, was being paid to seduce her with the aim of extorting more money from Arnold Grant? She’d think that every bad thing she’d heard about the Sansoms was fully justified. He’d about been able to see the stricken look in the clear eyes as she turned away from him.
But he hadn’t allowed himself to think like that, or he might really have gone mad. His priority—his pressing, urgent need—had been to find her—to talk to her about some of the feelings that were tearing him apart. And to ask her to wait for him while he sorted out the stinking mess his life had become.
But when he’d seen her, standing in front of him, he’d lost his last precarious hold on reality and asked her to marry him instead.
He’d had no right to do anything of the kind, and he knew it. But there was no way he wished the words unsaid.
And now he had to fight to keep her, along with Montedoro. And with no real idea even how to begin, he thought with bitter weariness.
The light on his answer-machine was blinking, and when he pressed the ‘play’ button, he got Matt’s angry voice, demanding to know where he was.
It was a good thing that he hadn’t yielded to the overwhelming temptation to bring Cory back here with him, Rome thought, his mouth twisting wryly as he listened. Because Matt Sansom on the rampage defied explanation.
‘You’d better have some good news for me when I call next time,’ his grandfather rumbled furiously at the end of his tirade. ‘Because I’ve had enough of this.’
‘Which makes two of us,’ Rome muttered, and deleted the message.
‘You seem very pleased with yourself these days.’ Arnold Grant directed a shrewd glance at Cory, who was singing softly to herself as she sat in front of the computer screen.
‘I do?’ Cory realised she was blushing. ‘I—I can’t think why,’ she hedged.
Arnold glanced over her shoulder. ‘Been making a killing on the market?’ He sounded amused. ‘Since when have you been interested in stocks and shares?’
‘For quite a while.’ She gave him a sedate smile. ‘It’s my hobby.’
‘You’re full of surprises, child. You look different, too.’ He gave her a long look. ‘What have you done to your hair?’
Cory put up a self-conscious hand. ‘Just a few highlights.’ She paused. ‘You don’t approve?’
Arnold said drily, ‘I don’t think it’s my approval you’re looking for.’ He paused. ‘So, who is he?’
Cory studied the screen with extra concentration. ‘I don’t know what you mean.’
‘In other words, I’m to mind my own business.’ Arnold nodded. ‘But ultimately, my girl, your happiness and well-being are my business. Remember that, please.’ He paused. ‘So why haven’t you mentioned him before? Is he someone I wouldn’t approve of?’
Cory bit her lip, wishing with all her heart that she hadn’t pledged to keep her relationship with Rome a secret. Especially when it was impossible to hide the sheen on her hair, the colour in her cheeks, the swing in her step—all the tell-tale signs of happiness.
And this might have been the perfect moment to enlist her grandfather’s support.
‘No. And I haven’t told you about him because I haven’t known him that long, and it’s too soon for formal introductions. Besides, he’s away at the moment on business,’ she added quickly.
‘Hmm.’ Arnold was silent for a moment. Then he said gruffly, ‘Is it serious?’
She said a quiet, ‘Yes—I hope so,’ and was frankly relieved when he did not ask her to elaborate further.
Rome had called once, leaving an outrageous message on her answering machine which had made her blush to her toes, but giving no clue as to when he would be back.
This was the third day and night, she thought forlornly, and it felt like for ever.
For the rest of the afternoon she was aware of her grandfather’s speculative gaze, and was quite glad when he told her that she could leave early. A certain abruptness in his tone told her that he was hurt because she hadn’t confided in him more fully.
Up to now, she thought ruefully, her life had been pretty much an open book where he was concerned—and fairly dull reading at that.
But what would his reaction be when he found she was planning to live in Italy?
I’m all he has, she thought, troubled, as she made her way home. But I’ll just have to cross that bridge when I come to it.
Earlier that day, Rome had been on his way back from the North of England, where he’d been following up a list of contacts that Allessandro had given him. And a gratifying number, it seemed, were ready to give the Montedoro vintages a trial.
At any other time Rome would have been well-satisfied. He might even have been turning cartwheels.
But he could not escape from the knowledge that the wine he was selling might soon no longer belong to him.
But if he could demonstrate that his business was prospering, surely he’d be able to attract some independent financial backing somewhere, to ensure that he and Cory would have a life together at Montedoro?
However, nothing was certain in this uncertain world, he reminded himself bitterly, and there were powerful forces stacked against him.
But, as Steve had once told him, if you didn’t stake everything, you didn’t deserve to win. And he was fighting for his future. And for Cory.
When he got back to his flat, he found several messages from Matt Sansom, angrily bidding him to pick up the phone.
But what he had to say to his grandfather needed to be delivered in person, he thought without pleasure.
Even when the sun was shining Matt’s house looked grotesque, he thought, as he parked his car and walked up to the door.
Today, it was answered by a woman in a neat overall. He asked for Miss Sansom, and was conducted through the house to a large elaborate conservatory at the rear. Here, among a welter of large and faintly menacing green plants, he found Kit Sansom, tranquilly engaged with some petit point.
She laid it aside when she saw him. ‘Rome, my dear.’ She held out a hand. ‘I didn’t know you were coming. Father didn’t mention it.’
‘He doesn’t know.’ He sat down on one of the cushioned wicker chairs she indicated. ‘I suppose you know why he sent for me originally—what he wanted me to do?’
‘Oh, yes.’ She sighed sadly. ‘He’s quite obsessed, you know. Although, to be fair, they both are.’
Rome leaned forward. ‘How did it start, Aunt Kit?’ he asked quietly. ‘Have you any idea?’
‘Oh, yes.’ Her voice was matter-of-fact. ‘I knew a long time ago—even before Sarah left. My godmother told me everything.’
‘Can you tell me?’
Kit Sansom folded her hands in her lap, her expression reflective. ‘To begin with it was just business rivalry—even healthy competition—although there probably wasn’t much love lost between them even then.
‘But in those days your grandfather had other things on his mind as well, not just making money. He’d fallen passionately in love, and become engaged to this lovely girl. He was planning his wedding—his life with her.
‘He had to go away for a few days on business, and while he was gone his fiancée went to a friend’s birthday party. Where she was introduced to Arnold Grant.’
‘My godmother said Matt was like a crazy man. That he went round vowing all kinds of revenge on them both, but everyone assumed that he’d get over it in time and be reasonable. Only, he never did.’
She sighed again. ‘From that moment on, Arnold Grant was his sworn enemy. At first he wouldn’t retaliate, no matter what your grandfather did, but eventually, inevitably, Matt went too far, and it became mutual—a full-scale feud with no holds barred.’
‘Dio—it’s unbelievable,’ Rome said. ‘To go on bearing a grudge like that—hating for all these years. Filling the house with it. No wonder my mother ran away.’ He paused. ‘Why didn’t it stop when he met my grandmother—found someone else to love?’
Kit shook her head. ‘My father married my mother because he needed a wife, and she was available.’ She spoke without rancour. ‘The problem was he wanted someone to play hostess when he entertained clients, and Mother was basically shy, and rather timid. I take after her, I think. Also, he wanted a son to inherit his business empire, as Arnold had, and she gave him two daughters.
‘I think she loved him,’ she added quietly. ‘But she couldn’t compete with the ghost of the woman he’d loved and lost—Elizabeth Cory. Sarah and I were always aware of—tensions between them. This was never a happy house.’
Rome drew a sharp breath. ‘If he loved Elizabeth so much, how could he contemplate destroying her granddaughter?’ he demanded roughly. ‘Using her as a weapon in this senseless vendetta?’
‘To hurt as he was hurt, perhaps.’ Her voice was grave. ‘It’s all so dark and twisted that it’s difficult to know. Sarah was lucky to escape—to find some happiness.’
He looked at her. ‘Were you never tempted to leave—and not come back?’
‘Oh, yes.’ She smiled a little. ‘So very often. But then he’d have had no one, and somehow I just couldn’t do it.’ She returned his gaze. ‘What are you going to do, Rome?’
‘I’m going to try and stop it,’ he said. ‘Because it’s gone on too long. And I won’t allow it to damage me—or the girl I love. Because I’m going to marry Elizabeth’s granddaughter, Aunt Kit.’
‘Ah, Rome.’ Her voice was tired. ‘Do you really think they’ll let you?’
He smiled at her. ‘I grew up with a gambling man, Aunt Kit. I just have to take that chance.’
There were sudden tears in her eyes. She said, ‘Rome—be careful. Be very careful.’ She paused, looking down at her hands. ‘Was he good to her—the gambling man? Did he make my little sister happy? Please tell me he did.’
Rome said gently, ‘Yes, he adored her. He was kind, laid-back and humorous, and we both thought the world of him.’
‘I’m so glad,’ she said. ‘Glad that she found someone to love her. She hadn’t had much luck up to then—either with her father or yours.’
Rome was very still. He said, ‘Aunt Kit—are you saying you know who my father was?’
‘Oh, yes,’ she said calmly. ‘She needed to confide in someone—but I’d guessed long before. Guessed—and feared for her.’
‘Will you tell me?’
‘If it’s really what you want.’ She saw him nod, and sighed faintly. ‘His name was James Farrar, and he was a business associate of your grandfather. Dark and handsome, but considerably older than she was. I sometimes wondered if that was the attraction. If she was really looking for another father figure. Someone who wasn’t eaten up by his need for revenge. She knew he was married, but he told her he was getting divorced.’
‘And she believed him?’ Rome asked bitterly. ‘My God.’
‘You mustn’t blame her, my dear.’ Her voice was kind. ‘Up to that time she’d led a pretty sheltered life—we both had. When Sarah told him she was pregnant, he went completely to pieces. Begged her not to tell Matt, or he’d be ruined. Said all the money was his wife’s, and she’d throw him out. Offered to pay for an abortion.
‘She told him to go, and never saw him again. But she wouldn’t identify him to Matt.’ She sighed. ‘He stormed at her—called her terrible names—but she was like a rock.
‘He tried to make her have an abortion, too, but she refused. She told me that she might have messed up her life, but some good was going to come out of it. All the same, she wasn’t going to bring her child into a house of hate either—so she ran away.’
There was a silence, the Rome said, ‘What became of—him?’
‘He died about ten years ago. A car accident. He’d started to drink heavily.’ She put a hand on his arm. ‘I wish it was a nicer story.’
‘I can see why she wouldn’t want to remember him.’ Rome’s face was sombre.
‘But she was happy in the end.’ His aunt paused. ‘I’ve kept her secret a long time,’ she said quietly. ‘I hope you’ll continue to respect that.’
‘I’ll tell Cory one day,’ Rome said. ‘But only her. And—thank you.’ He got to his feet. ‘Now I’d better go and talk to my grandfather.’
‘You’ve asked her to marry you, and she’s agreed?’ Matt Sansom released a shout of astonished laughter. ‘Well, that’s fast work by anyone’s standards. You’ve lived up to my expectations, boy, and more.’
He was dressed today, and sitting in a high-backed chair by his bedroom window, a rug over his knees, his face alive with malice.
Rome said coldly, ‘I hope that’s not a compliment, because that’s not all of it. The marriage will be for real. When I return to Italy Cory’s going with me, as my wife.’
Matt was suddenly very still. The calm, Rome thought, before the storm. But when he spoke his voice was mild.
‘You’re saying you’ve fallen in love with her—with the Ice Maiden? How did this come about?’
I have you to thank,’ Rome said. ‘After all, you brought us together.’
‘So I did,’ Matt said softly. ‘So I did.’
‘And she’s Elizabeth Cory’s granddaughter,’ Rome added. ‘Things may not be as hopeless for me as you believe. I intend to fight you for Montedoro.’
Matt stared at him. ‘If you’re hoping that Arnold Grant will give you his blessing, and a handsome settlement, then you’re an even bigger fool than I took you for.’
‘I’m going to try and persuade him to listen to reason,’ Rome returned levelly. ‘To tell him what I’ve told you. That the feud must end. That it’s too costly, and too damaging in all kinds of ways.’
‘And you think he’ll listen?’ Matt laughed again, hoarsely. ‘I wish you luck.’ He paused. ‘Have you said all you came to say?’
‘Yes.’
‘Then you can go, and be damned to you. I need to think.’
Rome nodded, and rose to his feet.
At the door, Rome paused. He said, ‘I wish you’d meet Cory—to get to know her. I think it would make a difference.’
‘Yes,’ Matt said, almost absently. ‘Yes, it might. I’ll think about that, too. Yes, I’ll certainly think about that…’
As Rome reached the foot of the stairs, he heard his name called softly and saw his aunt beckoning to him from the drawing room.
‘How did it go?’ She closed the door quietly.
Rome shrugged. ‘Not well,’ he said. ‘But he’s going to think it over. Maybe it’s a first step.’
‘Yes,’ Kit Sansom said drily. ‘But in which direction? However, that’s not what I want to talk about.’ She picked up a small jeweller’s box from a side table, and handed it to him. ‘I’d like to offer you this. My mother gave it to me before she died, and I’m sure she’d wish you to have it.’
Rome opened the box and saw a ring, a large amethyst surrounded by small pearls in an antique setting.
He said slowly, ‘It’s quite beautiful, Aunt Kit, but I can’t accept it. It belongs to you.’
She smiled at him. ‘My dear, I’ve never worn it. My hands are the wrong shape. And I don’t remember my mother wearing it either,’ she added thoughtfully. ‘She always said that amethysts weren’t her favourite stone. Anyway, I’d like to know it was being put to a proper use at last. It’s far too lovely to spend its life in a box. Give it to your Cory—please.’
Rome put his hands on her shoulders and kissed her cheek.
He said, gently, ‘I want you to be our first visitor at Montedoro.’
She patted his arm. ‘I’d love it. But first you have to win your battle.’ Her voice was sober suddenly, almost fearful. ‘And, Rome, I say again—do take great care. You may not know what you’re up against.’
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CORY let herself into her flat, hung away her trenchcoat, filled the kettle and set it to boil, then kicked off her shoes.
All set, she thought wryly, for another quiet evening at home. But she didn’t feel tranquil. She was restless—on edge—prowling round the living room with her mug of tea, glancing through the television listings and finding nothing to interest her, picking up a magazine and tossing it down again, loading her CD player and switching it off halfway through a track.
She switched on her computer, checked the latest share prices, then abandoned that, too.
She supposed she could make a start on her evening meal, but none of the food in the fridge held any great appeal either.
She rang Shelley and left a call-back message on her machine, although it was likely that her friend, who’d had three young men circling round her at the last count, had gone straight out to dinner from work.
She was just reaching for the phone to dial a take-away service when it rang.
She grabbed the receiver, ‘Hi…’
Rome said softly, ‘Open your door.’
She uttered a shriek, dropped the phone, and leapt for the door, flinging herself into his arms. ‘You’re back—you’re here…’
‘I’m also deafened.’ Rome pulled her close, kissing her mouth hungrily. ‘Dio,’ he muttered when he raised his head at last, ‘I’ve missed you so.’
