The Colorado Countess

by Stephanie Howard

  Carrie could think of nothing to say. She didn’t even know what she was thinking. She felt quite stunned, totally confused and foolishly grateful to see him—none of which added up to any sort of coherent frame of mind. So, she just stayed silent and allowed herself to be led through the double doors and into the spectacular crimson and gold dining room.

  It was a room to make your mouth water, even before you got to the food! Lush silk draperies adorned the tall windows, chandeliers the size of Colorado blazed from the ceiling and priceless Rembrandts and Titians hung from the walls. But what dominated the room was the mile-long mahogany table, set with glistening French crystal, antique English silver and wonderful gold-leaf-decorated Castello porcelain. Though what Carrie was principally aware of as she stepped into this wonderland was the tall man at her side, dressed in an immaculate dark suit, whose nearness was turning her insides to powder.

  He led her to their places and they sat down together, though Carrie hadn’t dared even to slip him a glance. What was going on? Why on earth had he turned up like this? Her brain was going round in circles.

  She waited till her frantic heart had calmed down a little, then she half turned towards him, though not looking him fully in the face.

  ‘Why are you subjecting me to this?’ she demanded in a tight tone. ‘I thought I told you I never wanted to see you again.’

  ‘I couldn’t let you dine unescorted. That would have been most unchivalrous. Especially since I’m responsible for you being here tonight.’

  ‘You mean you set it up?’

  ‘Why so surprised?’ Black eyebrows lifted. ‘Didn’t I say I would fix it for you to meet my brother? What’s the matter? Do you think everyone’s as fickle as you are?’

  ‘That’s a good one!’

  Carrie did turn round then, her eyes blazing with indignation at the sheer hypocrisy of that remark. And she was surprised to see that he was smiling.

  ‘Yes,’ he purred, ‘I thought that would get a reaction.’

  Carrie was continuing to glare at him, but already she was suspicious. There was something far too easy about his demeanour. It was as though that last little spat between them had never happened. For there was no rancour about him—as she would have expected. Either she hadn’t even hurt his vanity or something else was going on.

  And then he enlightened her. ‘I know why you were mad at me. You saw that photograph. The one in the paper.’

  Carrie felt her insides twist. It would be senseless to deny it. So she told him, ‘Yes, I saw the photograph.’ Though she hurried on to assure him, ‘But the photograph wasn’t important. I meant the things I said.’

  She must reaffirm the lie that had served her so well before, the lie that she simply cared nothing for him.

  To her dismay, he just smiled. He wasn’t buying her lie this time.

  ‘Liar,’ he told her. ‘You didn’t mean them at all. You were jealous, that’s all. And it was perfectly understandable. But don’t worry, I have a perfectly good explanation for everything. We can be back where we left off in no time at all.’

  What a presumption! ‘Oh, no, we can’t! We won’t be getting back anywhere. So you can forget about wasting time with explanations. I don’t even want to hear them, and I wouldn’t believe them if I did!’

  ‘We’ll see. I think otherwise. In fact, I’m sure of it.’ The blue eyes poured into hers for a moment and suddenly his tone was deadly serious as he added, ‘I won’t let you leave here until you’ve heard me out and I’ve convinced you. Take my word for it, for that’s a promise.’

  Panic rose up inside her. This was precisely what she’d been afraid of—that he would insist on explaining things and she might end up believing him!

  ‘No!’ she protested. She must not let it happen! She shook her head at him. ‘You’ll never convince me!’

  ‘Oh, yes, I will,’ he asserted, still in that grim tone. Then he smiled. ‘I can see this is going to be an interesting evening.’

  And it was at that moment that the Duke and Duchess appeared.

  Everyone around the vast table was rising to his or her feet. Carrie and Leone rose too as the royal couple proceeded to their seats. And, as she watched them, just for a moment Carrie forgot about Leone, the handsome, faithless thorn in her side.

  It was Damiano who held her eye. He was a spectacular-looking man—though she already knew that from the pictures she had seen of him. A few years older than Leone, he was as tall as his brother, with the same jet-black hair, though his was sleek and straight, and with eyes as dark as whirlpools and as piercing as sabres.

  He had a wonderful carriage, regal and commanding. In fact, everything about him was commanding and regal. There was none of the informality that was part of Leone’s attraction, and there was a seriousness about him that his brother mostly lacked. He was a man to be reckoned with. Intriguing and a little daunting. Carrie frowned and found her gaze drifting curiously to Sofia.

  Oh, yes, she was beautiful. Even more beautiful than her photographs, with wonderful red-gold hair and a pale oval face. In the sapphire dress she was wearing the bump of her pregnancy barely showed and there was a gentleness and an innocence about her that was exceedingly touching. But Caterina had been right. There was something amiss. Behind the serene, regal smile she did not look happy.

  The Duke and Duchess took their seats and with a shuffle everyone sat down. And, abruptly, Carrie found herself jolted back to the prickly present—namely Leone and his threats to convince her with his lies. That threatened to ruin her entire evening.

  At the moment, as etiquette demanded, he was chatting to the woman on his other side. Good, Carrie thought, he can speak to her all evening. I’ll strike up a conversation with the man next to me. She half turned, inclining towards him, about to put her plan into action, when at that very moment strong fingers closed around her wrist.

  ‘What I was speaking about earlier. . . This is neither the time nor the place. You and I will have our little chat after dinner.’ As she whirled round to look at him and indignantly snatched her hand away Leone smiled and added, ‘And remember what I told you. . . You won’t be leaving here until I’ve convinced you.’

  Carrie didn’t bother to protest. He would never convince her and the little talk he was threatening her with would never happen anyway. Caterina had told her she’d be meeting the Duke after dinner. And after that she would make a hasty escape.

  The dinner, however, Carrie wouldn’t have missed for anything. Course after glorious course—she lost count after the fifth one!—and each dish more mouth-watering than the one before it. Salmon, partridge, all kinds of vegetables and salads, soufflés, cheeses and three kinds of pudding. Carrie had never eaten so luxuriously, nor so copiously, in her life.

  Even Leone didn’t spoil things. His behaviour was exemplary. When he wasn’t chatting to his other neighbour and Carrie wasn’t chatting to hers he made her laugh with anecdotes about his cars and his childhood and intrigued her with stories about his travels round the world. It was rather sad, Carrie reflected, that he could be so utterly charming, such exceptionally good company, so hopelessly attractive, and yet, underneath it all, such a faithless rotter.

  But she didn’t dwell on that. She just concentrated on enjoying herself. Which wasn’t in the least hard. It was a magical evening.

  There was only one slightly jarring note and probably only Carrie noticed it. Her eye was suddenly caught by Caterina across the table politely taking her leave of the Finnish ambassador. And as she watched her she smiled. Clearly, she was off to meet her lover.

  But then for some reason Carrie’s eye was drawn to the Duke, who was also watching Caterina’s departure, but with such a black look on his face that Carrie felt herself shiver. Either he was angry at her leaving early or he disapproved of where she was going. Intuitively, Carrie sensed that the latter was more likely.

  For Caterina had told her that her brother did not approve of her current romance. Her lover was a comm
oner and the Duke considered him unsuitable. Apparently, they’d exchanged angry words on the subject.

  Carrie watched her as she left the room with that confident, no-nonsense stride she had and she couldn’t help smiling a little to herself. Whether her brother approved or not, Caterina would go her own way. She wasn’t the sort of girl to be told what to do!

  The dinner drew to a close and people began to leave the table and drift into the drawing room for coffee and brandy.

  This is it, Carrie was thinking. This is when the Duke’s supposed to see me. She stole a quick glance at Leone who was exchanging a word with his other neighbour. So long, it’s goodbye time, she told his oblivious back. You can keep your phoney explanations for your more gullible girlfriends. And she slipped quietly from her chair and began to head for the drawing room.

  But she never actually made it. Before she knew what was happening, an arm was round her waist and she was being steered in the opposite direction.

  She squirmed furiously to free herself. ‘What the devil do you think you’re doing? I have an appointment with your brother!’

  But her protests were a waste of breath. Suddenly, she was being propelled through a side door, then across a little ante-room, where a couple of waiters blinked but said nothing, then down a narrow passageway and into a small sitting room which was in total darkness until Leone switched the light on.

  Then she was being plonked down in a chair and he was turning the key in the lock, then pocketing it with a triumphant little smile as he told her, ‘Now you and I are going to have our little talk.’

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CARRIE was almost speechless with fury.

  Almost, but not quite.

  She sprang to her feet. ‘This is outrageous! I have an appointment with your brother!’ Her eyes blazed at her captor. ‘Let me out of here this instant!’

  ‘I shall let you out when I’ve finished with you.’ Leone regarded her without mercy. ‘And how long that takes depends entirely on you.’

  He was mad! He was a sadist! He had no conscience whatsoever! He really did intend to keep her a prisoner here and force her to listen to all his lies and excuses!

  Carrie took a step towards him, fists clenched, eyes flashing, resisting only with difficulty the urge to take a whack at him. Physical contact, she sensed, would not be a good idea.

  She spat at him through clenched teeth, ‘You’re wasting your time, you know. I’m not interested in hearing what you have to tell me. Like I already told you, I don’t want anything to do with you. Nothing you can say is going to alter that.’

  ‘We’ll see.’ Leone smiled down at her, then he took a step away from her and seated himself with an unhurried air on one of the gilt-framed tapestry chairs behind him. ‘First, I’d like you to hear my side of the story.’

  ‘But not now!’ Carrie let out a wail of frustration. ‘I have to see your brother now! Caterina told me it’s been arranged that I speak to him after dinner!’

  ‘Yes, I know that. I arranged it. Why don’t you sit down?’

  ‘I don’t want to sit down! I want to go and keep my appointment!’ Carrie was almost weeping with misery. ‘Why are you doing this to me? It’s not fair! This is important to me! Why are you behaving like a rotten bully?’

  This stream of angry invective had about as much effect on him as a poke in the ribs with a stick of limp celery.

  Leone smiled. ‘Calm down. You won’t miss your appointment. I arranged with my brother that I’d take you to him after coffee. So we have plenty of time. At least another twenty minutes.’

  Carrie felt a rush of relief, followed instantly by suspicion. ‘Do you mean that?’ She peered into his face for signs of treachery. ‘Is that the truth? You’re not lying to me, are you?’

  ‘Why do you always assume I’m lying?’ He peered back at her, the blue eyes narrowing accusingly. ‘It seems to me that you’re the one who goes in for lying. Omitting to tell me you’d seen that photograph in the newspaper, for example. That was a lie, you know. A lie of omission.’

  ‘And I suppose you haven’t lied to me?’

  ‘Not that I’m aware of.’

  Carrie laughed a scoffing laugh. ‘That’s a lie in itself.’ She could have offered him a list of the lies he’d told her—the one about her being special to him coming top of the list!

  Then, before he could protest, she plonked herself down at her chair again and folded her arms across her chest. ‘Oh, well, I suppose I don’t really have much choice but to sit here and listen to you reeling off some more.’

  She’d just have to trust him, she decided, on the issue of her appointment with the Duke. And if that turned out to be a lie too she’d have his head on a stick!

  ‘Good. I have your attention at last.’ Leone leaned forward in his seat. ‘Now just try not to interrupt and listen to what I have to say. . .’

  Carrie regarded him sceptically. OK, I won’t say a word, she was thinking. But that doesn’t mean I’m going to swallow what you’re about to tell me! And she kept her arms firmly folded across her chest.

  ‘OK, let me explain what actually happened on that last night in Paris when the photograph was taken. . .’ He leaned his elbows on his thighs, letting his hands fall between his knees. ‘After we’d concluded our business my French associates insisted on taking me out for a celebration. I thought it was only going to be dinner, but they insisted on going on to a nightclub afterwards and, though I wasn’t really in the mood, I went along with them.’

  He paused. ‘It was unlike me not to be in the mood. Normally, I confess, I quite enjoy that sort of thing. But nightclubbing was the last thing on my mind that evening. All I was thinking about was you and getting back here to you as soon as possible. . .’

  As he looked deep into her eyes Carrie felt herself flush. She hadn’t expected that and it had twisted something deep inside her. In spite of her mood of scepticism, she found herself wishing it might be true.

  Leone was continuing, ‘We went to a place near Montmartre, and we’d scarcely sat down when one of my hosts insisted on inviting some girls to join our table.’ He made a face of distaste that looked remarkably genuine, though Carrie suspected he was probably pretty well practised at looking genuine. ‘They were girls of a certain type. Well, you saw the one in the photograph. And before I knew it that blonde with the plunging neckline was all over me.’

  He made another face. ‘Believe me, I made a rapid escape. I just finished my drink and made an excuse that I had to leave. So that photographer must have been quick—and I had no idea he’d taken a picture. And I might never have known if Caterina hadn’t pointed it out to me, right there on the front page of next morning’s paper.’

  He sighed. ‘I reckon I’m used to this sort of thing. The Press seem to think they have every right in the world to take pictures like that just in order to sell newspapers. And usually it doesn’t bother me. It’s just part of the package. But this time was different. . .’ There was a pained look in his eyes. ‘This time it mattered because it screwed things up between you and me.’

  Carrie had known this would happen. She sat there helplessly, feeling all her fine scepticism dribble away. She was not entirely convinced, but the truth was that she wanted to be.

  Quite unconsciously, she unfolded her arms from her chest and let her hands drop to clasp each other lightly in her lap.

  He was continuing, ‘If you knew how much I care about you, Carrie, you could never have doubted me. This would never have happened.’

  Then he paused and held her eyes with a look of such entreaty that Carrie felt her poor confused heart tilt over. ‘Believe me, I could never even look at another woman now. That’s just not in my mind. Don’t you know I’m quite besotted with you? And that photograph was just a nonsense. It didn’t mean a thing.’

  He frowned at her. ‘But why on earth didn’t you tell me you’d seen it?’

  ‘I don’t know. I was too hurt, too angry, I guess. I just wanted to fin
ish with you. I didn’t want to discuss it.’

  She looked into his face, into the wonderful lapis eyes, and it seemed that every inch of her entire being was aching. Aching to believe him. Aching for his words to be the truth. For she was still a little afraid to accept his story totally.

  She believed the bit about the nightclub. Well, ninety-nine per cent she did. But the rest—what he felt for her—had he really meant that? Men often said such things to women. Maybe he’d just said it to appease her? She felt tied up knots. She hadn’t expected any of this.

  ‘I’m sorry it happened.’ Leone was still watching her. ‘You’d every right in the world to be upset.’ He drew his chair closer to her. ‘But you do accept my explanation don’t you? Tell me you do, Carrie. Tell me you believe me.’ And as he said it he reached out and took hold of her hand and clasped it firmly between the two of his.

  Dear heavens, this was terrible. Her heart was tripping inside her. She held her breath. ‘I don’t disbelieve you,’ she said at last.

  She was scared to say more than that. She had to keep something in reserve, just in case it all proved to be a total fabrication.

  Leone squeezed her hand and smiled. ‘Well, at least that’s progress. And I guess I’ll just have to make do with that for now.’ He glanced at his watch, then raised her fingers and kissed them. ‘It’s time I took you to see my brother. We mustn’t have you missing that appointment. Come on.’

  He stood up, drawing her with him, bending to plant a warm kiss on her forehead. Then, still holding her hand, he led her towards the door.

  Heart beating, still confused, Carrie followed him without a word.

  The meeting with the Duke couldn’t have gone better.

  He was perfectly charming to her, though a little forbidding—which was just his manner, Carrie decided. There was no doubt at all that he possessed a streak of ruthlessness but she could see a kind of warmth too in the midnight-black eyes. He would make an uncompromising enemy, but a good and true friend. And, above all, he would be fair. He was the sort of man you could depend on.