by Lucy Gordon
Later, when Enrico had gone to his room, Fiorella surprised Charlotte by saying in a censorious voice, ‘Of course, you’re not properly equipped for this occasion.’
‘I think she’s demonstrated that she’s very well equipped,’ Lucio said, astonished.
‘Oh, you men! You never know what’s important. So she’s intelligent! So what? I’m talking about clothes. She’ll need a glamorous wardrobe for this.’ She took Charlotte’s hand. ‘Ignore him, my dear. Tomorrow we’ll go into Florence and spend money.’
‘Of course,’ Lucio agreed. ‘You must forgive my male ignorance. That hadn’t occurred to me. I leave it in your hands, Mamma.’
When he’d gone Fiorella said, ‘We’re going to have a wonderful time tomorrow.’
Charlotte was glad, for her travelling wardrobe contained nothing that would suit such an elaborate occasion, but an imp of mischief made her say, ‘Suppose I don’t need any new clothes.’
‘Nonsense! Of course you do!’
Laughing they went along the corridor together, and said an affectionate goodnight.
As Fiorella had prophesied, the following day was a delight. They headed for the Via de’ Tornabuoni, lined with fashion boutiques. Fiorella declared that Lucio would pay for everything, and spent an amount of money that made Charlotte stare.
‘The more, the better,’ Fiorella declared. ‘You must do him credit. There will be many such occasions, not just when you go visiting with him, but also when he brings important people home to dinner. Which reminds me that I need a couple of dresses myself for a dinner party next month.’
‘Then let’s start looking.’ Charlotte chuckled.
They returned home in triumph, both sporting new clothes, which they displayed to Elizabetta and the maids. Lucio, attempting to enter the room, was firmly excluded.
Two days later they set off for the Palazzo Vidani, once the home of the Dukes of Vidani, now Enrico’s pride and joy.
‘What did you think of him?’ Lucio asked as they travelled.
‘Very interesting. He seems grim and chilly, but obviously there’s another side to him.’
‘Yes, he’s spent his life putting money first. So when he reached sixty and a fortune hunter got him in her sights he was helpless. Now she treats him like dirt, but he can’t bear to get rid of her. The closest he’s ever come to making a firm stand is about these diamonds which would have cost him millions.’
When they arrived Enrico greeted them at the door and personally escorted them upstairs to the luxurious ducal apartments.
‘Duke Renato built this for himself and his wife in the seventeenth century,’ he said, showing them around the splendid bedroom. ‘She was of royal blood, so he wanted to impress her. Normally I sleep here, but tonight it’s yours. I’ll be in the dressing room next door.’
It was truly a room from another age. Oak panels lined the walls, which were elaborately decorated with paintings. There was also a huge fireplace, although rendered unnecessary by a discreetly located radiator. Floor-length brocade curtains framed the tall windows, and matching curtains hung around the bed which, Charlotte realised with a slight disturbance, was a double.
Clearly Enrico had assumed they slept together. He would have been aghast to learn that they had separate rooms, and that Lucio came to hers only briefly to say a chaste goodnight.
The bed was large, so they could keep a certain distance, but it was still a slight shock to discover that she had no choice in the matter. She wondered how Lucio felt about it, but when she glanced at him his face revealed nothing.
‘I’ll leave you to get settled in,’ Enrico said. ‘Tonight’s the big night.’
When she saw the multitude of cars that drew up in the next hour Charlotte knew he had been right. Excitement was rising in her. If she and Lucio were to work out a future she had to be able to fit in with occasions like this, and she was confident that she could do it.
He took the first shower while she unpacked with the help of two maids who gasped with admiration as they discovered her new clothes.
‘Hang them in the wardrobe,’ Charlotte said. ‘I want them to be a secret until the last minute.’
They nodded, understanding perfectly and giggling.
She surveyed them, wondering which one would make Lucio catch his breath. That was the one that really mattered. She didn’t try to deny it to herself.
The gown that attracted her most was deep gold silk. It was elegant, sophisticated, and the bosom was just low enough to be enticing without being outrageous. When it was time to dress for the evening she slipped into the bathroom while Lucio attired himself in the bedroom. When she emerged they were both fully dressed.
It was hilarious, she thought wryly, to take such trouble not to see each other in a state of undress, when they already knew each other naked. The memory danced through her brain: Lucio, as he’d been that night, lean, vigorous, delightful.
Tonight he wore a black dinner jacket and bow tie. His hair just touched his collar, and his face was handsome and intriguing. Somehow she must spend the evening with this man without revealing how much he disturbed her. But what about him? Didn’t she cause him any disturbance? Surely she must. But if so he concealed it behind perfect control.
She had a partial answer at the astonishment on his face as he approached her, and nodded.
‘You’ll knock them all flat,’ he said. Then he dropped a light kiss on her cheek and said, ‘Let’s go.’
They entered the great hall down a wide staircase, and Charlotte knew at once that word had gone ahead of her. Everyone here knew what this occasion was about, and who she was.
So many people to meet. So many successful men and beautiful women, and most of those women had eyes for Lucio. The looks they cast him were the same as she’d seen in the hotel in Rome, when almost every female seemed aiming to be first with him. He could have taken any one of them to bed.
And some of them he probably has, she thought. But he’s with me now, so the rest of you can just back off.
She took a deep breath and raised her head. She was ready for anything.
From the first moment she was a success. As so often the Italians warmed towards a non-Italian who’d taken the trouble to become expert in their language. They were particularly impressed by her knowledge of dialects.
Most regions of Italy had dialects vastly different from Italian. This did not apply in Tuscany, where the dialect was so like standard Italian that it was reputed to be the basis of the main language. But it was certainly true of Venice, where the lingua Veneto was less a dialect than an independent language that defeated most non-Venetians.
But Charlotte had been fascinated by it and, during her visit, had managed to master a certain amount. So she was looking forward to meeting Franco Dillani, owner of the shop in Florence that Lucio and Enrico were aiming to buy.
When the moment came Signor Dillani greeted her in English.
‘It is a pleasure to meet you, signorina.’
Beaming, she took his outstretched hand, saying, ‘E mi so veramente contenta de far la vostra conoscensa, sior. Lucio me ge parla tanto de vu.’
She had the pleasure of seeing both Lucio and Franco Dillani stare in amazement. She had spoken in Venetian, saying: ‘And I am delighted to meet you, signore. Lucio has told me so much about you.’
‘You speak all Italian languages?’ he exclaimed, again in Venetian.
‘No, I was just very attracted to yours,’ she said.
‘But that is wonderful. I am honoured.’
He immediately monopolised her, talking Venetian with great vigour until she had to protest, laughing, that he had exceeded her knowledge. Whereupon he proceeded to instruct her in lingua Veneto, which he enjoyed even more. By the time Lucio and Enrico converged on him for a business talk he was in the best of moods.
‘How’s it going?’ she murmured to Lucio as the evening drew to an end.
‘Wonderfully. A few more details to be settled, but the f
eeling is positive, thanks to you.’
‘It can’t be me. It must be a good deal in itself or he wouldn’t be interested.’
‘But tonight he’s been listening as he never did before, and that’s because you cast a spell on him.’
‘Nonsense,’ she protested, but her heart was soaring. This was what she’d hoped for, to find a niche in his life as well as his heart.
‘No, it’s not nonsense. Now, let’s retire for the night. You need rest. I shall want you to do a lot of this kind of thing tomorrow.’
‘Your wish is my command,’ she said merrily.
‘You should be careful. I might take you seriously.’
Laughing they ascended the stairs together, watched by several envious pairs of eyes.
Once in their room he collected his night attire and vanished into the bathroom. Charlotte guessed that this night, however triumphant so far, would end prosaically, however much they might each hope otherwise.
Did he hope so? she wondered wistfully. Was he so much in command of himself that he could resist the temptation that teased her?
Whatever the answer, self-respect demanded that she stay in control. Her thin silk nightdress was too revealing, too obviously enticing. She covered it with a matching wrap.
There was a knock on the door that connected them to Enrico’s room, and his voice called, ‘May I come in?’
‘Yes, of course,’ she said, opening the door.
‘I just wanted to say goodnight,’ Enrico said. ‘And to ask if you have everything you want.’
‘Everything,’ she said. ‘It’s such a lovely place.’
Lucio emerged from the bathroom and the three of them exchanged friendly goodnights, before Enrico retreated, closing the door again.
‘Oh, my goodness!’ Charlotte exclaimed. ‘Did you see where he’s sleeping? That tiny narrow bed, how spare and dismal everything is.’
‘It’s only meant to be a dressing room. He’s making do with it tonight so that we can have his room. Still, I know what you mean.’ He yawned. ‘It’s been a long day. I’m really looking forward to a good night’s sleep.’
‘So am I,’ she said untruthfully.
He laid a gentle hand on her shoulder.
‘You did wonderfully tonight. They all admired you.’
The movement of his hand caused the wrap to slip away to the floor. He retrieved it and laid it around her bare shoulders. His fingers barely brushed against her but suddenly Charlotte was intensely aware of every inch of her body. Every day she studied it to see if her pregnancy was becoming noticeable, but for now there was only a slight increase in the voluptuousness of her breasts and hips. It was still the same beautiful body that had entranced Lucio on the night that had changed the world. Perhaps it was even more beautiful.
And he, too, realised that. The sudden rasping sound of his breath told her that he’d become aware of her in another way. This was no longer just the mother of his child. She was the woman who’d made his spirits soar and his body vibrate.
She knew she should try to get control of herself, to subdue the thrilling impulses that invaded her. But they had always been there, she now realised, lurking in the shadows, waiting to spring out and remind her that her freedom was an illusion. Lucio’s presence, or even just the sound of his voice, was enough to bring them to life, teasing, troubling, tempting.
Now she couldn’t deny that ever since the first incredible night, she had wanted him again. Not just for his body’s power but also its subtlety—the instinctive understanding that had told him which caresses would most delight her, the gentleness and skill that he devoted to her.
And he, too, was filled with yearning. She knew it from the way he trembled, standing so close to her. In another moment he would yield to his desires, take her in his arms and claim her in the way they both wanted. She raised her head, searching his face, and finding in it everything she longed to see. She reached up to touch him—
Then he seized her hand, holding it away from him.
‘It’s late,’ he said. ‘We both need our sleep.’
She wanted to scream that what she needed wasn’t sleep. It was him, his thrilling body, his power, his passion. But that would tell him that her desire for him was greater than anything he felt for her, and her pride revolted at the thought.
‘You’re right,’ she said. ‘After all, we’re here to work. Which side do you prefer?’
‘This one,’ he said, walking away and getting into bed on the far side.
He settled on the extreme edge, so that when she’d climbed in on her own side there was still a clear distance between them. She lay still, her face turned towards him, her whole being tense for any movement from him. But there was nothing. Lucio stayed motionless, only a slight unevenness in his breathing revealing that he was less relaxed than he pretended.
At last the sound changed, becoming quieter, more regular, telling her that the impossible had happened. Lucio, lying a few feet from her half-clad body, had fallen asleep.
It was insulting.
Only the fact that she was tired prevented her seething with indignation.
At last she, too, sank into sleep, driven more by desolation than tiredness.
She was awoken by a heavy hand on her shoulder, shaking her. Opening her eyes she saw the face of a furiously angry woman.
‘I should have known,’ the stranger snapped. ‘I haven’t been gone five minutes and already he’s got another woman in my bed.’
‘In your—? Are you Signora Miroza?’
‘Yes, I am and you’re going to regret this. And he’s going to regret it even more.’
She switched on the bedside light, pointing at the far side of the bed.
It was empty.
A light beneath the door of the bathroom showed where Lucio had vanished.
‘So that’s where he is,’ Susanna grated.
‘No,’ Charlotte said, pushing the woman aside. ‘You’ve got this all wrong.’
To her relief the bathroom door opened and Lucio appeared, seemingly relaxed, smiling.
‘Susanna, how nice to see you. I’m sorry that Charlotte and I are in your room, but Enrico thought you wouldn’t mind.’ He slipped an arm around Charlotte’s shoulders, a gesture designed to make matters plain.
It worked. Susanna’s jaw dropped.
‘Are you two—I mean—?’
‘Charlotte and I are a couple,’ Lucio said. ‘Enrico thought it would be nice for us to be in here.’
‘But where is he? No, don’t tell me. He’s off in some floozy’s bed, making the most of my absence.’
Charlotte lost her temper.
‘No, I’ll tell you where he is,’ she snapped. ‘And then maybe you’ll stop your nonsense. Here!’
In a flash she was at the door of the dressing room, wrenching it open and switching on the light, revealing Enrico, virtuously alone in the narrow little bed.
‘Nobody else,’ she said firmly. ‘There isn’t another door into this room and you can see he’s completely alone.’
She wrenched open the wardrobe door, revealing clothes but nothing else.
Roused by the commotion Enrico had opened his eyes and was regarding them with sleepy surprise.
‘Hallo,’ he murmured. ‘You’re back.’
‘I’ll go now and leave you to it,’ Charlotte said.
She marched out.
Lucio was waiting for her, watching her with a new light in his eyes.
‘I’m beginning to realise that I’ve underestimated you. You can be so proper and serious when it suits you, but your other side is a cheeky imp and a warrior by turns.’
‘And which one do you think is the real me?’
Slowly he shook his head.
‘I’m not sure there is a real you. I think you produce whichever “you” it’s useful for someone to see. You’ve already shown me several different faces, and I’m curious to know what surprises you still have in store for me.’
She stepped
back and looked up at him, eyes bright with teasing humour.
‘You’ll find out—one day,’ she said. ‘In the meantime you’ll just have to wonder.’
CHAPTER SIX
SHE spoke lightly, watching his reaction, and was pleased to find him regarding her with new interest.
‘But how long will I have to wonder?’ he mused. ‘I’m not a patient man.’
‘Well, I know that,’ she agreed.
‘But it doesn’t worry you?’
‘Not in the least.’
He grinned. ‘Think you can get the better of me, huh?’
She laughed softly. ‘Think I can’t?’
‘I’m not foolish enough to answer that question. Like I said, I don’t know how many different personalities you have hiding, ready to pop out and knock me flying.’
‘Maybe I don’t even know that myself. Perhaps you’re the man who’ll bring them out. Why don’t we just wait and see?’
‘I’m up for it if you are.’ He nodded. ‘I think life is going to become very interesting.’
‘Really?’ she asked, wide-eyed. ‘Whatever makes you think that?’
‘Either interesting or alarming. Or both.’
Before she could answer there was a noise from Enrico’s dressing room.
‘I wonder what’s happening in there right now,’ she mused.
She had an answer with unexpected speed. The door opened, revealing Susanna and Enrico, arms about each other’s waists.
‘Goodnight,’ Susanna said majestically. ‘We shall not disturb you again.’
Heads high, they crossed the room and departed. Enrico, Charlotte was fascinated to notice, looked ecstatic.
‘He’s got a grandiose suite down the corridor,’ Lucio observed. ‘They’ll head for there and—whatever they feel like doing.’
‘He’s won this one,’ Charlotte said. ‘Did you ever see a man look so pleased with himself.’ She gave a choke of amusement. ‘Oh, goodness! His face when he first saw her.’
Lucio joined in her merriment, placing his hands on her shoulders, and suddenly the laughter died. She was no longer wearing the wrap, and the feel of his fingers against her bare skin filled her with delicious tension. The nightdress seemed flimsier than ever and she realised that his pyjama jacket was no longer respectably buttoned up high, or even buttoned up at all. It had fallen open, showing the smooth, muscular chest that she remembered.
