The Italian Count's Command

Home > Other > The Italian Count's Command > Page 18
The Italian Count's Command Page 18

by Sara Wood


  ‘She can’t hear you,’ Dante rasped. ‘Can’t you see, she’s unconscious?’

  The nightmare flashed into her head. She remembered how it had been for her. And she lifted her strained face to his.

  ‘You’re wrong! She can hear me! Every word!’ she cried jerkily. ‘I know! I remember!’

  ‘Yes,’ he muttered. ‘I believe you do. Guido…’ His voice broke. ‘I made him admit that he spiked your drink too. I know nothing that happened was your fault.’

  Tears filled her eyes but she blinked them away. Dante knew everything now and, although he’d realise that she hadn’t invited Guido’s attentions, nothing else had changed. It hadn’t altered the fact that she had been defiled. And was carrying a rapist’s child. Her misery was overwhelming. She shrugged as if nothing mattered any more.

  ‘Miranda—’ he choked.

  She put out her hand to stop him from saying anything. She could only deal with one crisis at a time.

  ‘Not now. My sister needs me,’ she muttered. ‘Lizzie,’ she said lovingly, ‘you’ll be fine. A headache, some nausea. But you’ll have no bad memories, because you are safe. I’m here with you. Go to sleep. Hush. Sleep…’

  When they returned from the hospital, reassured that Lizzie was asleep and would be well cared for, it seemed incongruous—and almost an insult—that the party was still in full swing.

  ‘Oh, no!’ Miranda groaned. ‘I can’t face anyone.’

  ‘You don’t have to,’ Dante clipped, his face hard as granite.

  They’d hardly spoken to one another for the past two hours. Not touching, as separate as two strangers who’d never met, they slowly climbed the stairs. Miranda felt her heart was breaking. This could be her last night in the villa. Maybe Dante would let her live near by so that she could see Carlo—

  ‘I’m…sorry,’ he said curtly, opening the door to her suite.

  Blindly she walked in, emotion robbing her of speech. She heard the door close and she drew a breath, preparing to release her emotions now that he had gone. But then there was a movement behind her and when she whirled around, her eyes huge with unshed tears, she saw that he was still standing there, his shoulders riding high with tension.

  ‘Yes. I understand what you must feel,’ she jerked out, knowing so well what his brother’s betrayal meant to a man like Dante, whose pride and sense of family honour were of great importance to him.

  And she knew, too, how hard it had hit Dante to know that his wife had been raped. Whatever sympathy he felt for her, it would be the ultimate humiliation for such a proud man.

  ‘I don’t think you do,’ he said through his teeth. ‘I can never forgive myself.’

  ‘Yourself?’ She frowned, puzzled.

  ‘I am responsible for what has happened,’ he said, his face bleak and cold. ‘I turned a blind eye to Guido’s questionable behaviour. I believed him above others, including you, my wife. If it’s any consolation, I am in torment. I will never forgive myself for what he and I have done to you.’ His voice was shaking and she wanted to put her arms around him in sympathy but he was untouchable at that moment, horribly distant and contained as if he was preparing for their permanent separation. He drew in a rasping breath, his eyes as dark as coal. ‘You must hate the name of Severini.’

  ‘Guido…told you everything that happened?’ she ventured.

  ‘Everything,’ Dante said, almost inaudibly, his mouth a harsh twist in his stony face.

  But he was still ignorant of the cruellest twist of fate, Miranda thought in despair. Dante had yet to learn that his wife was pregnant by his brother! She let out a low moan and Dante stiffened. What must be going through his mind? And when she told him of her condition—as she must…

  She felt chills icing her spine, dreading the months she would be carrying a child born of rape. Would she ever feel anything for Guido’s child? Could she honestly find it in her heart to love an innocent baby created by such a hideous act?

  Thinking of the years she might be struggling to find some scrap of affection for a second, unwanted child, she put her hands to her face and moaned again.

  ‘I don’t understand. Why did he hurt Lizzie? Why me?’

  Dante’s face darkened like thunder and she shuddered, afraid of him. ‘Lizzie rejected him. It was the final straw as far as he was concerned. So he thought of a way to pay her back.’

  ‘But to go to such extremes—!’

  ‘His feelings were extreme. Your sister was right,’ he bit. ‘He’s been ferociously jealous of me all my life. He has hated me ever since we were small. What he…did to you wasn’t, he said, personal. It was purely to hurt me.’

  Not personal! Nothing could be more intrusive or humiliatingly personal! With an effort she bit back the things she wanted to say. What was the point?

  ‘I see.’

  Dante winced. Desperately she longed to caress his stone-hard face and ease his pain. But they were irreconcilable because of her pregnancy and so she had to let the barriers come down again and shut him from her life as if he had never existed. Or she’d go mad with grief.

  ‘Guido confessed that he wanted to ruin my marriage. That he fed me the lies about your infidelity—and pretended you were chasing him. He…’ Dante’s white teeth snagged at his lip and then with an effort he continued. ‘As I said, he admitted that he’d spiked your drink with the same rape drug. He thought I was still in Italy and that he had plenty of time to…’

  ‘To rape me!’ she breathed, speaking the vile words at last.

  They hung in the air, polluting it. Neither of them could escape the fallout of that terrible act of malice now or pretend it had never happened. Her eyes closed tightly. She felt sick. To think of those vile hands touching her, that body pressed close to hers…

  And she carried his foul seed inside her body. When all the time she’d longed for Dante’s child, a brother or sister for Carlo… Oh, God! What was she going to do?

  ‘That was his plan. But he didn’t,’ Dante rasped on an outbreath. ‘You must know that, of course.’

  ‘Know what?’ she muttered from her pit of misery.

  ‘That he didn’t succeed!’ he blurted out hoarsely. ‘I interrupted him!’

  Her eyes opened so wide that they hurt. ‘What did you say?’

  ‘He didn’t do what he’d intended,’ Dante grated. ‘I am sure of that. I know he’s a liar, but he knew that he had to tell me the absolute truth.’ His mouth twisted. ‘Perhaps that was because I had his neck under my heel at the time. I demanded to know what had happened, good or bad. He says that when he discovered how close I was to the house he panicked, flinging on his clothes just in time. I know he was speaking the truth because he seemed bitter that he hadn’t succeeded. You weren’t violated by him, Miranda.’

  ‘I—I hadn’t realised!’ she gasped.

  ‘Think about it. Try to remember how you felt afterwards.’

  There was a long pause. She didn’t want to cast her mind back, but she did.

  ‘I felt…sick. I was bruised,’ she said eventually, her heart bumping hard.

  ‘The nightmare. Recall it. Where did it end?’ he asked almost gently.

  ‘I never wanted to go that far into my memory,’ she whispered.

  ‘You must. Now. This once. And then forget it.’

  Closing her eyes, she went through it all, this time right to the end. And there Guido was, lying on top of her—not totally naked, only his trousers discarded, and although he was pawing her and trying to remove his briefs… She flinched, as if from his touch. And opened her eyes.

  The breath slid from her lungs in shuddering relief. ‘I remember now. He reached for his mobile—and spoke while he was—’ she bit her lip, blushing furiously ‘—while he was removing his pants. After a while he suddenly rolled away!’ she croaked, beginning to shake. ‘Oh, dear heaven, I think he is telling the truth. If this is true—’

  ‘It is. I am sure of it.’

  It was wonderful news. Why wasn’t h
e taking her in his arms? Her eyes grew smoky with distress. This should be a moment of joy. Instead, she was realising to her horror that he just didn’t want to be married to a woman who’d been stripped naked by his brother and mauled about. The episode had blighted their relationship and, as he’d said, it had cracked their marriage beyond all repair. So she had lost him, after all.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  HER entire body slumped with defeat. Bleakly she tried to maintain her dignity. In her heart she wanted to rant and rage, but that wouldn’t do any good. Dante was set against her and unfortunately emotion wasn’t rational. Either you adored someone or you didn’t—and his love wasn’t strong enough to overcome his revulsion and the trauma of it all.

  She steeled her heart. There were practical things to consider now. Getting Lizzie better and helping her to return to England, for instance. Miranda paled. And she must start packing her own things up, saying…goodbye… She felt hot tears scouring her eyes and fiercely blinked them back.

  ‘Miranda,’ Dante said in a harsh and pained whisper. ‘I feel terrible about this. I owe you and Lizzie my heartfelt apologies.’ He turned away, his head bowed. ‘My family has dishonoured you,’ he muttered. ‘Women are to be cherished and protected and you and Lizzie have suffered the most disgusting assault—both attacks being carried out under my roof. I am personally responsible and I can never forget. I will think of it for the rest of my life. I realise how much you must loathe me for bringing you so much heartache and grief. For not believing you, not trusting you. I can only apologise but I know that isn’t enough. I can never make things right again. All I can do is to make sure you are well cared for and want for nothing. It’s not much. I wish I could turn the clock back. Kill my stupid family pride. Open my eyes to my brother’s faults. But it’s too late. I know that. Too much has happened and things will never be the same between us. It’s over. I realise that. I’m not stupid.’

  Amazed, she stared at his tense back. Hope spiralled within her. Perhaps she’d misread the situation. It dawned on her that he was terribly upset and desperately sorry for the distress she’d suffered. Blaming himself and taking the guilt on his own shoulders. Was that why he wasn’t holding her close?

  ‘Oh, Dante!’ she whispered longingly, and he flinched as if she’d stabbed him in the heart. ‘Dante,’ she said with all the love she could muster.

  ‘Don’t speak kindly to me!’ he grated, his fists bunching. ‘I don’t deserve it! Do you know how badly I feel about my behaviour? How much it’s ripping me apart?’

  ‘Yes. I have an idea,’ she said softly.

  In her bones she felt sure he was aching to take her in his arms. It was a chance she had to take. One last risk of her vulnerable heart. She had nothing to lose but her pride—and what price that, if it won his love?

  Quietly she went to face him. Put her hands on his chest. Saw how hard he was clenching his jaw, how resolutely he avoided her gaze. He pulled back, staring at her in alarm.

  ‘Don’t touch me. I couldn’t bear it,’ he muttered. ‘Just go. My solicitor—’

  ‘Dante.’

  His hands trembled. His mouth quivered at the turned-down corner. Oh, yes. She knew all about self-control. Knew the tell-tale signs that betrayed what lay beneath. The short, shallow breathing. The rigidity of the body.

  Her palm slid out to him again and she felt his heart thudding so violently that it seemed it might leap right out of his ribcage.

  ‘Dante,’ she murmured again, with deep tenderness and love. And he swallowed. A give-away. Emotion was filling his throat as it was choking hers. She swallowed too. ‘It was Guido who tried to dishonour me. And he failed. It’s not your fault. You can’t be responsible for him—’

  ‘I am,’ he said, the words expelled on hot, angry breath. ‘That’s the trouble. I failed to keep him in check. Didn’t pay attention to the signs that he needed guidance…’ He bit his lip and forged on grimly. ‘He will be punished. I will see to that. And…it will be made public. No one here will ever accept him into their company again. When his sentence has been completed he will have to go abroad, but you can be sure that I’ll keep a watch on him. No woman must ever go through what you did. I can’t believe I have an animal for a brother!’ he groaned.

  ‘He’s your blood. But he is his own man,’ she insisted. ‘But you,’ she said, letting her fingers walk up to his pulsing throat. ‘What are you intending to do?’

  He looked at her with hopeless pain in his eyes as if he contemplated a bleak future. ‘I don’t know,’ he jerked. ‘Fling myself into work, I suppose. You can have the house. And Carlo, of course. I’d like some access,’ he said with heart-rending difficulty. ‘But I won’t bother you. I’ll find somewhere in Como to live. You—you’ll be all right. I promise. You’ll have everything you want.’

  His heart was breaking, she knew it. And something told her that this was nothing to do with losing his honour, his beloved house, or even total contact with Carlo. It was the way he looked at her as if his eyes were hungrily seeking to record everything about her, to store up memories for the future. The utter desolation of his expression told her more than his strained words.

  ‘I won’t have my heart’s desire. And nor will you,’ she said, her gaze steady on his.

  He flinched. ‘I don’t deserve to have anything I want.’

  Now she felt sure. Her eyes kindled, her heart aching. ‘But you are as much an innocent victim as I am—’

  With a muttered exclamation he pulled away but she caught his arm and hung on. ‘Please!’ he gritted. ‘I let you down. I didn’t trust you—’

  ‘Apparently with good reason,’ she said soberly.

  ‘If I’d only stopped to think…’ His hand raked through his hair. ‘Through my own stupidity I’ve caused you untold misery. Now it’s my turn to be in hell, to be punished.’

  ‘That would be a shame when you could be in paradise instead,’ she said anxiously, sliding her body against his.

  He groaned and held her tightly as if he couldn’t help himself. ‘Miranda!’ he growled. ‘Don’t torture me like this. You don’t know what—’

  ‘Yes, I do,’ she said, standing on tiptoe and kissing his angry, tense mouth. When it didn’t soften, she looked at him in despair. ‘I’m trying to tell you something and you’re too deaf and blind to notice!’ she cried. ‘I love you. You love me. What’s the problem?’

  ‘It can’t be.’ He looked down at her helplessly. ‘Not after everything that’s happened.’

  ‘Dante. You are a loyal and loving man. All your life you cared for and watched over your brother as I cared for Lizzie. I know how you feel. Every flaw in Guido’s character you see as a reflection on you. I felt the same with Lizzie. Her waywardness was somehow my fault. But the two of them are adults. They are responsible for their own actions. Maybe we have guided and helped, maybe we’ve made mistakes where they’re concerned, indulged them and made allowances or tried to compensate too much…I don’t know. But in the end they are masters of their own destiny. You are not your brother’s keeper. He has walked his own path and made his own choices. It’s not your fault that you were popular—other than the fact that you truly deserved people’s affection.’ She gazed at him earnestly, impassioned in her need to make him understand that he shouldn’t bear his brother’s burden of guilt. ‘You and he are separate people. You are such a good man. You feel a duty to shoulder his sins because you are a man of great honour and feeling. But you have already been punished enough. I can see that.’ Her voice softened. ‘It has been hell for you, as it has been for me. But I won’t let Guido succeed in his aim. Do you understand?’

  ‘Succeed?’ He frowned, uncomprehending.

  ‘He wanted to break us up,’ she said simply. ‘But we mustn’t let that happen because our love is stronger than that, isn’t it? You are everything to me. I have no intention of watching you walk away. The nightmare is over, Dante. Let’s shut the door on it and walk into the light again. Together
.’

  There was a long silence while he stared into her pleading eyes. He swallowed. Licked his lips. Bit them and shook his head as if to clear his brain. ‘I—I—’ he choked and came to a grinding halt, clearly overcome with emotion.

  ‘Oh, for heaven’s sake!’ With great tenderness and love, she smiled. ‘Pretend I’m a cockroach and kiss me, you idiot!’

  His eyes closed. With a helpless groan, he lowered his head and his mouth descended on hers. Warm. Searching. Sweet. She sighed with happiness. Everything would be all right now.

  ‘But—’

  ‘No buts!’ she reproved, her hands linking behind his head. And she pulled him closer because they’d almost lost one another and her desperation to bind them together again made her kisses frantic.

  ‘My darling!’ he groaned. ‘I can’t believe this is happening. You truly forgive me?’

  ‘Forgive? I know what was stacked against me. Any red-blooded man would have acted as you did, felt as you did. There’s nothing to forgive.’

  ‘Miranda!’ he mumbled. ‘I can’t believe it. This is more than I imagined… In my mind I had made plans…seen a cold and loveless future. Never to see you again, to have contact only through Carlo… I couldn’t bear it but I knew that was to be my fate. But every time I thought of what lay ahead for me, my heart was torn to pieces,’ he said gently. ‘I love you so much and I always have. You are my light, my soul, my reason for existing.’

  ‘How lovely!’ she sighed. ‘Just how I feel about you,’ she whispered.

  With a shaky laugh, he kissed her again and it was a very long time before they came up for air.

  ‘I still don’t understand how you can forgive me so easily,’ he wondered.

  ‘I told you. I don’t see you as responsible—and because my love is bigger than any petty resentment,’ she said simply. ‘I know how hard it’s been for you and I have felt your pain and I’ve wanted to ease it. Your welfare and happiness is important to me because I care about you so very, very much.’

 

‹ Prev