The Forced Bride (22 page)

The bath was wonderful, deep and scented, and when she came back into the bedroom, after a prolonged and luxurious

soaking, she found fresh underwear on the bed, with a charcoal pleated skirt and a plain white sweater in thin wool. The

maid herself, mercifully, was nowhere to be seen.

Once dressed, Emily took a long look at herself. Neat, she thought, but not spectacular. And now she had to go

downstairs, knowing that the entire household must be aware exactly how the Count had celebrated his wife’s return to

his home.

But there were no sly smiles or knowing looks from anyone, least of all Gaspare, who was waiting eagerly to open the

doors to thesalotto for her.

There’d been a transformation in this room too. The heavier pieces of furniture had been replaced by elegant antiques

from a much earlier era and most of the gloomy portraits in their ornate frames had also vanished from the newly painted

walls. The cavernous leather seats had gone too, exchanged for deeply cushioned sofas, upholstered in a rich cream

fabric.

There was a cheerful blaze in the great stone fireplace, she saw, and coffee already waiting, with a plate of the small

sweet biscuits made with honey and nuts that she’d liked so much on her previous visit. Rosanna, the cook, must have

somehow remembered after all this time, she thought, her throat tightening suddenly.

‘It is good My lady approves’ Gaspare’s tone was faintly worried. He gestured around him. ‘Before—too dark—too

sad, I think.’

‘It’s all wonderful,’ she said, and meant it. He wanted reassurance, she thought, that she liked the change in her

surroundings. That she was going to be comfortable, so that she’d stay. He didn’t understand it wasn’t a question of new

décor, and never had been.

And she couldn’t tell him.

But no doubt everything would become perfectly clear in due course—when her replacement moved in.

And, talking of replacements…

‘Gaspare.’ She detained him as he was about to leave the room. ‘The girl Apollonia—is she new’

‘Si, signora. But her recommendations are good, although, in the past, she has worked mainly for ladies who are widows

and not young.’ He looked anxious. ‘This is advancement for her and she wishes to please.’

You could have fooled me, Emily thought drily, but she said only, ‘Grazie,Gaspare. I was interested, that’s all.’

She was pouring some coffee when she heard the loud peal of a bell and a moment later Gaspare returned, looking much

more cheerful.

‘The Signora Albero asks if she can be received, my lady.’

‘Why, yes, of course.’ Emily scrambled to her feet. ‘And bring another cup, will you, Gaspare’

Fiona Albero was a pretty girl, with curling brown hair and blue eyes that sparked with mischief. She looked stunning in a

honey-coloured wool suit and an enormous diamond glittered like an iceberg in the sun on her wedding finger.

‘It’s so good to see you again,’ she said, her voice still carrying a hint of her Scottish ancestry. She grasped both Emily’s

hands in hers. ‘But please don’t pretend you remember me,’ she added, her mouth curving humorously. ‘Marcello and I

agreed you were operating on autopilot the night we met. You looked totally poleaxed—as I suppose anyone would if

they woke up and found themselves married to Rafaele.

‘Don’t get me wrong,’ she went on hurriedly. ‘He’s Marcello’s best friend since they were at school, and he’s absolutely

terrific—kind and generous as well as totally gorgeous. But it occurs to me that he could also be—formidable.’

Emily smiled back. ‘It’s occurred to me too,’ she said calmly. ‘Won’t you sit down’

‘Raf suggested I should call round,’ Fiona went on when they were both drinking coffee. ‘I said it was too soon, but he

seemed to think you might be feeling a tad—uprooted. Which I would totally understand, having been through it.’

‘It has been something of a shock to the system,’ Emily admitted wryly.

‘But it’s marvellous that you’re here at last.’ Fiona looked around her and nodded. ‘And he’s done wonders with the

house. It’s always seemed so sad and empty in the past. Small wonder to me that he’s always preferred his apartment in

the city.’

Is there one thought Emily. I didn’t know.

But she didn’t say so aloud. Instead, ‘I thought the cottage at Tullabrae was delightful.’

‘Did you’ Fiona looked very pleased. ‘It’s where my father was born and we use it a lot, but not in the winter, of

course,’ she added with a shiver. ‘I tried to talk Raf out of it, believe me. Said if he wanted to take you on a second

honeymoon, the Bahamas would be a safer bet, but he was adamant. And here you are, so maybe it works its magic all

the year round.’

She paused. ‘Did he cook for you while you were there’

Emily stared at her. ‘Raf can cook’ she asked in astonishment.

Fiona rolled her eyes expressively. ‘He’s one of these seriously aggravating men who can throw a few ingredients into a

pan and come up with a gourmet meal.’ She gave a naughty giggle. ‘But maybe—on honeymoon—he had better ways of

spending his time.’

She saw Emily flush and looked remorseful. ‘Oh, Lord, now I’ve embarrassed you. My big mouth. I’m really sorry.’

‘No, really. It’s fine,’ Emily hastened to assure her. ‘Besides, I suspect I may need to grow an extra skin or two, anyway

over the next few weeks.’ She hesitated. ‘You must have wondered…’

‘No,’ Fiona said instantly, then pulled a face. ‘Well, yes, we have—naturally. I mean—to be honest—when we first saw

you, we couldn’t get over how very young you seemed to be coping with marriage—especially to someone like Raf.’

Emily bit her lip. ‘But I didn’t cope,’ she said quietly. ‘Not even marginally.’ She paused. ‘Has he never said…’

‘He’s said nothing. And, frankly, we’ve never dared ask.’ Fiona smiled ruefully. ‘Raf doesn’t encourage speculation

about his private life, not even when he and Marcello have been off on one of their lads’ hunting trips to Umbria. And I’m

not here to probe either.’

She looked a trifle awkward. ‘Of course, when Raf mentioned a second honeymoon, we did hope that things might have

changed.’ She shook her head. ‘He’s always seemed so—alone.’

Emily looked away. ‘Please,’ she said with difficulty, ‘you don’t have to spare my feelings. I’m under no illusion about

his—lifestyle. And Raf’s never pretended that he’s been—lonely.’

There was a silence, then Fiona said gently, ‘I don’t think we’re talking about the same thing at all. But, as I have no right

to be discussing this anyway, I’ll shut up and leave you in peace.’

She reached for her bag. ‘I just wanted to welcome you, and to let you know I’m only a phone call away. I also know a

good language teacher when you decide to take the plunge, and it helps, believe me. Besides, I think Raf would really

appreciate it if you did learn Italian.

‘We’ll give you a few days to find your feet,’ she added buoyantly. ‘Then we’ll be pestering you to have dinner with us.’

She smiled warmly, gave Emily a reassuring pat and vanished as quickly as she’d arrived.

Emily spent the rest of the day exploring the entire house and noting all the changes that had been made. They must have

taken a long time, she thought, and Raf had clearly begun them when he was still intending to divorce her.

So they weren’t planned for my sake, she thought unhappily, but for someone very different.

He hadn’t stinted anywhere either, she told herself as she stood in the dining room, admiring the expertly restored frescos.

The whole place seemed infinitely lighter and even more spacious than she remembered. It was as if heavy shutters had

suddenly been flung back, allowing the sunlight to pour into a dark and shadowed room.

I could have been so happy here, if only…

Tears tightened her throat, but she swallowed them back resolutely.

Because there was no point in wishing for what she could not have. Or in regretting that when Raf had come to her

bedroom on that night three years ago she’d not been able to overcome her nervousness and total lack of confidence

enough to smile at him—or hold out her hand. Or say—something—anything—however shy or silly, to indicate that he

was welcome to stay. Instead…

Treating me as if I was a monster.

His own harsh words, only a few hours ago, showing he had not forgotten either.

But once he’d walked away, she thought wretchedly, it had seemed impossible—unthinkable—to call him back. And so

much easier to go into denial about everything she felt for him. To pretend that the love—and the need—did not exist.

And never would.

A pretence she would now have to sustain for whatever was left of their marriage.

When all I truly want to do is fall on my knees and beg him to love me, she thought, wrapping her arms round her body to

stem the tide of desolation that was threatening to overwhelm her.

Because she knew that it was all much too late.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

IT WASan hour later when Raf returned.

Emily was seated at her dressing table, brushing her hair, when she became aware of a sudden stir, as if the house was

waking up to its master’s arrival. She heard his voice asking an imperious question and mentally braced herself, knowing

that he would come in search of her.

And, only a moment later, he appeared in the doorway behind her and stood leaning against the frame, watching her in

silence.

‘Oh, hi.’ Emily tried for nonchalance. ‘Have—have you had a good day’Did you meet Valentina Were you together in

your apartment

His dark face relaxed into a sudden smile and, in spite of everything, she felt her heart miss a beat. ‘It has been

interesting,mia cara ,’ he drawled. ‘Why do you ask’

‘Isn’t that what wives are supposed to ask—when their husbands come home from the office’

‘How would I know’ He gave a faint shrug. ‘I have never had a wife before.’

He walked across the room, removing his jacket and tossing it on to the bed, then took the brush from her, putting it

aside. His hands descended to her shoulders as the hazel eyes met hers watchfully in the mirror. ‘But, as you have asked,’

he went on softly, ‘I found concentration difficult, because I was thinking about you.’

He bent, letting his lips brush her cheek. ‘Tell me,carissima , have I been forgiven’

‘For what’ she asked with faint breathlessness.

‘For once again forcing you to have sex with me when you did not wish to do so.’

Her hesitation was momentary. She said softly, ‘I think we both know that isn’t true.’ And turned, offering him her mouth.

His kiss was deep and lingering, but when at last he raised his head it was to run a rueful hand round his chin.

‘I must not damage your beautiful skin. Come and talk with me while I shave,carissima .’

She followed him into the bathroom, clicking her tongue as she rescued his rapidly discarded shirt and tie from the floor

on the way.

‘You were never so untidy at the cottage.’

He was unrepentant. ‘But I had no staff at the cottage to wait on me. Here it is different.’

‘And you didn’t tell me you could cook.’

‘Ah,’ he said, ‘Fiona has been talking to you. Telling my secrets.’

But none that really matter…

She sat on the broad tiled rim of the bath as he applied the foam to his face, watching the play of muscle under the

smooth skin of his back.

‘On the subject of staff,’ she said carefully. ‘Must I really have a maid’

‘I fear so.’ Raf picked up a razor. ‘You are going to lead a busy life here,mia bella , and you may have to change your

clothes several times a day. You need someone to keep your wardrobe in order and advise you on what to wear for your

various engagements.’ He paused. ‘And I understand the girl is well-qualified, with excellent references.’

And looks as if she’s permanently sucking a lemon, Emily thought, sighing soundlessly.

‘I have also arranged for you to have a personal driver,’ he went on, removing the lather with long, expert strokes. ‘His

name is Stefano, and you will meet him tomorrow.’

Emily gasped. ‘Is that strictly necessary’

‘Of course,’ he said. ‘Or I would not employ him. It is a security measure,mia bella .’

She bent her head. ‘Wouldn’t it be easier and cheaper just to send me home’

‘No,’ he said. ‘Think what it would cost in time and money for me to fly to England each time I wished to make love to

you.’ He paused. ‘And for the present, Emilia, this is your home.’ There was a warning edge to his voice. ‘Try to

remember that.’

For the present…

‘So,’ he went on, ‘did you like Marcello’s Fiona’

Emily pulled herself back from the edge of sadness. ‘Yes, she was lovely.’ Her smile was involuntary. ‘It was kind of you

to arrange it.’

‘I thought meeting a fellow Briton might make your exile easier to bear,’ he said drily. He cleaned his razor and dried his

face, then walked over to her, lifting her to her feet. ‘Thank me, then,’ he whispered.

He bent, rubbing his newly smooth cheek gently against hers, and she moved closer, pressing herself against him, her lips

already parting for his kiss.

As his mouth caressed hers, his hand sought the swell of her breast, stroking the nipple with tender expertise, making her

catch her breath in swift, irresistible pleasure.

He murmured her name and pulled her nearer still, his hands sliding down to her hips, so that her body ground against his.

At the same time, she felt his lips burning on her breast through the thin wool of her sweater.

But, even as her body responded with its first voluptuous shiver of desire to the implicit demand of his touch, she heard a