The Secret That Changed Everything

by Lucy Gordon

  He tried to cure himself. Why should he love a woman who would never love him? But nothing worked. He believed she was ‘the one’.

  Then one night, at a party, he’d rescued her from the unwanted attentions of the host’s son, and his self-control had died. Seizing her in his arms he’d kissed her fervently, again and again.

  When at last he released her he found her gazing at him with ironic amusement.

  ‘I thought you were never going to do that,’ she said.

  ‘Maria, do you mean—?’

  ‘Oh, you’re so slow on the uptake. Come here.’

  This time it was her kiss, full of the fierce urgency of a young woman who’d waited too long for this and had finally lost patience.

  This time their embrace was so long that her parents came in and found them. Lucio prepared to beg them to understand, not to dismiss him from the estate. But then he saw that they were smiling with delight. They knew he was the right man for their child. Nothing else mattered.

  Now Maria admitted that she’d loved him for months.

  The next few months were sweet and gentle as they got to know each other on a new level. Long talks went on late into the night, leaving them both with a sense of a glorious future opening up. Nobody wanted to rush things, but, even without a definite proposal, it was taken for granted that they would be together forever.

  One day, while they were guests at a friend’s wedding, he said, ‘Do you think we could—?’

  ‘Yes,’ she said quickly. ‘I really think we could.’

  They were engaged.

  Fiorella and Roberto were overjoyed. They didn’t care that he was poor.

  ‘You’re a great vintner,’ Roberto told him, adding with a wicked chuckle, ‘This way I can tie you to the estate. Now I don’t have to worry that you’ll leave me to work for someone else.’

  Then he’d roared with laughter at his own joke, not fearing to be taken seriously. His and his wife’s love for their foster son was too well known to be misunderstood. The only person who meant more was Maria, and the fact that they were giving her to him told him everything.

  The time that followed was so joyful that, looking back, Lucio wondered why he hadn’t guessed it was bound to end terribly. Fate didn’t allow anyone to enjoy such happiness for more than a brief moment. He hadn’t known it then but he’d learned it since.

  The wedding was to take place in autumn, when the harvest was safely in. Maria and her mother had spent a long afternoon in Tuscany choosing a wedding dress, returning home in triumph. Mario had filmed her in it. Lucio had walked in while she was parading up and down for the camera. She’d laughed and displayed herself to him, but Fiorella had screamed.

  ‘You mustn’t see her in the dress before the wedding. It’s bad luck.’

  ‘Not for us, Mamma,’ Maria had said blissfully.

  ‘Not for us,’ Lucio had agreed, taking her in his arms. ‘We love each other too much. We will never have bad luck.’

  How tragically ironic those words had become only a week later, when Maria had crashed the car she was driving, and died from her injuries. She’d lingered for two days before finally closing her eyes. Her funeral had been held in the church where the wedding should have taken place. Lucio and her parents had attended it together, bleak-eyed, devastated.

  Roberto never recovered. A year later his heart gave out and he died within hours.

  ‘He didn’t want to live after we lost Maria,’ Fiorella said as they sat together late into the night. ‘Everything he did was a preparation for his death.’ She placed a gentle hand over Lucio’s. ‘Including rewriting his will.’

  ‘Mamma, I’m so sorry about that. I didn’t know he meant to leave me the estate—’

  ‘But I knew. We talked about it first and I told him I agreed. This place needs you. He’s left me money and the right to live here, so there’s no need for you to worry about me.’

  He’d plunged into running the estate, making such a success that the profits soared and he was able to expand magnificently. Soon he owned several more vineyards and began to spend time travelling between them. The money increased even more. His life expanded into a routine of glamour.

  Sometimes he felt like two people. There was the man who gladly returned home to where Fiorella, the mother of his heart, would care for him. And there was the other man who fled the estate with its memories, so achingly sweet, so beautiful, so unbearable.

  There were plenty of female entanglements in his life, but none touched his heart. He steered clear of emotional involvement, flirting with women who seemed as sophisticated and cynical as himself. Even so he sometimes blundered, and knew he’d inflicted much pain before he came to realise that the part of him that loved had died with Maria.

  It was lucky that he’d met Charlotte, who seemed like himself, taking life as it came, ready to make the best of a situation. He could be honest with her. He wouldn’t fall in love but neither would she. Apart from the child they would give each other strength, safety, comfortable affection, but no unrealistic dreams on either side.

  The future was hopeful.

  * * *

  Next morning Charlotte was awoken by Elizabetta, with coffee.

  ‘Breakfast will be served downstairs when you are ready,’ she said respectfully.

  ‘I won’t keep them waiting.’

  She bathed and dressed quickly. Her thoughts of the previous night had shown her where the road led—developing love with Lucio and a future based on the certainties of that love. A child. A family. A secure home. It was a pity he hadn’t come to her the night before. There was so much they could have said. But she suppressed her disappointment. Time was on her side. She was singing as she got out of the shower.

  She chose a blue dress that was stylish, elegant, but modest. Today was about making a good impression.

  There was a knock on the door, and Lucio was standing there, smiling.

  ‘You look wonderful,’ he said.

  ‘Thank you, kind sir,’ she said, taking his arm.

  ‘Fiorella has cooked a splendid breakfast for you,’ he said, leading her downstairs. ‘She’s the best cook in Tuscany.’

  In fact, the meal was more elaborate that she normally chose, but she appreciated that Fiorella had gone to a lot of trouble to make her welcome, and expressed much appreciation.

  ‘Your room is comfortable?’ Fiorella asked. ‘If the mattress is too hard or too soft it can be changed.’

  ‘No, it’s perfect. I slept so well.’

  ‘Good. You need to build up your strength to prepare for what lies ahead. Pregnancy is exhausting. If there is anything you want, you simply tell me.’

  Lucio regarded them with a pleased smile. This must be just what he’d hoped for, Charlotte thought. She returned his smile. Just looking at his handsome appearance was a pleasure.

  He was dressed as she hadn’t seen him before, not expensively fashionable as on the first night, nor in workman’s clothes, as she’d seen him in the vineyard.

  Had that only been yesterday? she wondered. The world had changed since then.

  Today he looked like a businessman, plain and efficient.

  ‘Got a meeting this afternoon,’ he explained. ‘Could be a big deal at stake. But we’ll have this morning to ourselves and—’

  His phone rang. He greeted the caller cheerfully.

  ‘I’m looking forward to this afternoon. There’s some interesting— What’s that?...Damn! All right, I’m coming now.’

  He hung up, scowling. ‘He’s got some crisis. He didn’t go into details but he sounds in a bad way.’ He laid a hand on Charlotte’s arm. ‘Sorry.’

  ‘Don’t be,’ she said. ‘Business comes first.’

  ‘Bless you.’

  ‘You can leave everything to me,’ Fiorella said. ‘I shall enjoy showing Charlotte around.’

  When they were alone Fiorella said, ‘Now, tell me how you are feeling. Is your pregnancy going well?’

  ‘Very well.�
��

  ‘Morning sickness?’

  ‘Mostly no.’

  ‘How lucky you are. But you will need to be registered with a doctor, and I should like to take you to the one we use. He’s in Siena, only four miles away.’

  She made the call at once, and a few minutes later they were heading down the hill. As the car turned Charlotte took the chance to look back for her first real view of the palace, rearing up against the sky, a magnificent building, but not at all like the farmhouse she’d been expecting.

  As they neared Siena, Fiorella explained that the doctor was an old family friend, and very happy to hear her news.

  In the surgery he listened to her heart, asked her questions and nodded.

  ‘Excellent. You’re in good health. About your diet—’

  ‘You can leave that to me, Doctor,’ Fiorella said.

  Siena was a beautiful, historic city. As they strolled the short distance to the restaurant Fiorella had booked for lunch, Charlotte looked around her at the ancient buildings.

  ‘I’ve always wanted to come here,’ she murmured.

  ‘You’ll have plenty of time now. Soon it will be time for the Palio, which we never miss.’

  Charlotte had heard of the Siena Palio, a horse race and pageant that was part of the town’s colourful history. She asked Fiorella eager questions until they were settled in the restaurant, where, it was clear, the table had been booked in advance.

  ‘This place is just as beautiful as I’ve heard,’ Charlotte enthused. ‘I can’t believe that incredible...’

  Fiorella let her talk while the food was served, occasionally joining in with an observation.

  ‘You know this land so well,’ she said at last. ‘And you speak the language fluently. Lucio told me you were taking a long trip to study Italy.’

  ‘This country has always been my passion,’ she said. ‘I translate for a living, and I thought I should see the reality for myself.’

  ‘You are obviously a very independent young woman, who makes big decisions for herself. Now I am afraid I have offended you.’

  ‘How could you possibly have done that?’

  ‘I practically frog-marched you off to the doctor, I had this restaurant arranged without consulting you—’

  ‘Considering how little I know about Siena restaurants, that’s just as well,’ Charlotte said cheerfully.

  ‘True, but you might complain that my family had taken you over.’

  ‘Well, perhaps I don’t mind being taken over,’ Charlotte mused. ‘You’ve welcomed me, and I’m not foolish enough to object to that.’

  ‘Then we are friends?’ Fiorella asked.

  ‘Friends,’ she said warmly. Isolated from her family back home she was doubly grateful for this welcome.

  ‘But there is still something troubling you,’ Fiorella said gently.

  ‘Not trouble exactly. I just wonder how this must be for you. You’re very kind to me, but I think how painful it must be for you. Your daughter—Lucio was going to marry her, and she died....’

  ‘And you think I must hate you because of that?’

  ‘I couldn’t blame you. I’m having the baby that should have been hers—your grandchild.’

  ‘But it’s not the same. Lucio has told me that what has happened since Rome is a surprise to both of you. He needs the stability that you can give him. Maria was—’ she hesitated ‘—she belonged in another life, lived in another world. Now a new world opens to both of you, and I hope to be part of it, because to me he is my son.’

  It was pleasantly said, and there was kindness in the older woman’s eyes as she squeezed Charlotte’s hand. Charlotte supposed she should be glad, since this meant Fiorella could offer her friendship. But what if she won Lucio’s heart—would there be trouble looming? And it was his heart that she was determined to win.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  ON THE way home Fiorella said, ‘I wonder if he’s finished with Enrico Miroza yet. That’s the man who called this morning.’

  ‘Enrico Miroza?’ Charlotte echoed. ‘Not the Enrico Miroza?’

  ‘You know about him?’

  ‘You hear his name everywhere. They say that where money’s concerned he’s the “big man”, with a finger in every financial pie. I saw him once at a reception and he seemed so forbidding, grim and fearsome, like he ruled the world.’

  ‘Yes, he strikes people like that, but there’s another side to him. While his wife was alive he had a life of quite unnerving virtue and respectability. Then, a year after she died, he met Susanna, a greedy little gold-digger who set out to marry him for his money, and managed it. Any other man would have been wary of her, but he had very little experience of women, and he just collapsed.’

  ‘Lucio mentioned a crisis.’

  ‘Yes, and this is a bad time for it. Enrico is an important associate for Lucio. In a few days they’ll be hosting a weekend house party in Enrico’s home, for a lot of important guests. Bankers, investors, people like that. Also, they’re buying a business together, and the owner will be there.’

  A few minutes later they reached the palazzo, where they saw Lucio’s car parked outside.

  ‘Good.’ Fiorella sighed.

  Lucio appeared and came to them quickly.

  ‘I’ve brought Enrico home with me,’ he said. ‘He’s in a bad way, and I didn’t like to leave him alone.’

  ‘But what’s happened?’ Fiorella asked.

  ‘His wife’s walked out on him.’

  ‘That terrible woman!’ she exclaimed. ‘He’s better off without her.’

  ‘I agree, but he doesn’t see it that way. He’s madly in love with her no matter how badly she behaves.’

  Fiorella snorted and turned to Charlotte, saying, ‘This is always happening. To Susanna he’s just money, money, money, and if he doesn’t hand over enough she throws a tantrum.’

  ‘This time she set her heart on a lavish set of diamonds,’ Lucio said. ‘When he hesitated she walked out, and I don’t think it’s coincidence that she picked this moment, two days before the big “do”, so that he’ll be humiliated before his guests. But before we go in, tell me how the two of you managed?’

  ‘Wonderfully,’ Fiorella said. ‘The doctor is very pleased with our Charlotte. Now, I must go and talk to Elizabetta.’

  She hurried out of the room, leaving them alone.

  ‘Our Charlotte,’ she mused. ‘Did you hear that?’

  ‘Of course. You are “our Charlotte”. You’re mine, but you’re also hers. It’s all over the estate by now, that you’re keeping the family going, so in a sense you’re everybody’s Charlotte.’

  ‘All over the estate? You mean people already know?’

  ‘Good news travels fast.’

  ‘She’s so kind to me.’

  ‘Fiorella is a matriarch in the old-fashioned sense. What counts is family. You’re part of the family now. Both of you.’ Smiling, he indicated her stomach.

  ‘Yes, she as good as told me. It’s so nice to be wanted and—’ She checked herself, fearful of revealing too many of her innermost feelings.

  ‘Did you notice how tactfully she left us alone?’ Lucio asked. ‘She knows we need time.’

  He led her outside to where some seats overlooked the magnificent view down the hillside.

  ‘I knew this was hilly country,’ she said, ‘but now I see it, it takes my breath away.’

  ‘The slopes give the grapes more direct sunlight, which is one reason this area is so good for wines. At one time this part of the country housed a lot of nobility, but gradually the wine took over.’

  ‘Is that why the house is so grand?’

  ‘Yes, it used to belong to a count.’ He grinned. ‘But Enrico’s home puts it in the shade. It’s a real palace.’

  ‘That’s why you’re having the big “do” there?’

  ‘Right. And I’m not looking forward to it. I’ll talk to some contacts and make my escape. How do you feel about coming with me? You don’t have to if you th
ink it’s too soon to plunge into deep water.’

  ‘I’d like to plunge in. Don’t worry, I’ll cope alone and not distract you from talking business.’

  He grinned. ‘Thanks.’

  ‘Tell me about your other vineyards,’ she said. ‘What made you buy more?’

  Lucio hesitated. To tell her that he’d been fleeing the pain of Maria’s memory would have been unkind, so he merely said, ‘I guess I wanted to prove myself independently, rather than just taking over another man’s achievement.’

  He began to describe the other estates, lingering over details to forestall more questions, until the door opened and Fiorella beckoned them.

  ‘Time to return to duty,’ Lucio said, taking her hand.

  Charlotte recognised Enrico from their brief, previous encounter. Tall, thin, reserved, with a lined face and white hair, he gave the impression of a man who would never yield an inch. But his manners were perfect.

  ‘I do apologise for my intrusion,’ he said, holding her hand between both of his and speaking English.

  ‘You don’t need to. I’m delighted to meet you.’

  She spoke in Italian and saw his eyes brighten with surprise.

  ‘You know my language?’

  Now he, too, spoke in Italian, and launched into a speech. At first he spoke slowly, but when she replied, speaking fast, he responded in the same way. Lost in the mental excitement, Charlotte was barely aware of Lucio watching them with a look of astonished pleasure.

  ‘This has been a pleasure,’ he said at last. ‘I look forward to seeing you at the party. My friends will appreciate you, and you will enjoy yourself.’

  ‘I look forward to it.’

  Enrico stayed the night and spent dinner telling her about his home and the planned celebration. It was clear that he knew her status as Lucio’s ‘official lady’ and the mother of his child. As Lucio had prophesied, word had spread fast.

  She asked many questions, all guaranteed to show that she was up to the task. Lucio watched in silence, but seemed pleased.