by Sara Craven
‘So you are awake at last,’ she said. ‘But at least you do not snore, which Rafaele must have found a mercy.’
Emily stared at her, lips parting in shocked disbelief. When she spoke, she did not recognise her own voice. ‘What the
hell are you doing here’
‘I felt it was time we talked, Contessa.’ Signora Colona settled herself more comfortably against her cushions. ‘A little,
very private chat—woman to woman. There are things that need to be said, and, like most men, Rafaele hates scenes.
So—I have come to speak for him.’
‘I don’t think so.’ Emily got to her feet. ‘I don’t know how you got in here, but I’d like you to leave—now.’
‘I came in through a door.’ The older woman sounded bored. ‘Some of your staff, Contessa, recognise who will be the
real authority in this house before long.
‘Not that I plan to live here,’ she added, looking round, her expression disparaging. ‘Rafaele has done his best to make it
more acceptable to me, but it is still too old—too depressing. I prefer the city, and I shall get my way.’
She looked back at Emily. ‘Sit down, Contessa, and try to relax. That is what women in your condition should do, I
understand.’
‘My condition’ Emily managed. ‘What do you mean’
Valentina Colona sighed irritably. ‘I mean that you are carrying Rafaele’s child. Do not try to deny it.’
Emily said numbly, ‘Did—he tell you that’
‘It was hardly something he could keep from me.’ She shrugged. ‘I, of course, cannot have children, which has been a
great sadness to us both. But you have solved our problem.’ She smiled brilliantly. ‘Give Rafaele the heir he needs, my
dear Emilia—that is what he calls you, is it not—and I assure you that you will find him more than grateful.’
She paused. ‘In fact, I see no reason why you should not continue to live here when the baby is born. It could,alla fine ,
become part of the divorce settlement. Although that is for the future,naturalmente , once I am free to remarry. Which will
not be soon, as my husband’s health has improved.
‘But I know that Rafaele will wish you to have every comfort. Also, as his son’s mother, you will always be treated with
respect. By us both.’
Comfort thought Emily, anguish tearing at her. Respect When I know I’ll never again sit on the edge of the bath and
talk to him while he’s shaving—never feel him take my hand in his before we enter a room—never sleep with his lips
against my hair. When he’s with—you!
Aloud, she said, coldly and clearly, ‘And if it’s a daughter’
Signora Colona examined her immaculate nails. ‘That is not an insuperable difficulty. You are young and healthy, after all,
and you do not find Rafaele’s attentions disagreeable. Some—accommodation could be reached, I am sure. The perfect
answer if there is a difficulty.’
Emily drew a sharp breath. ‘You disgust me,’ she said thickly.
Another elegant shrug. ‘But Rafaele clearly does not, which is all that matters in sex.’
‘All that matters’ Emily echoed with contempt. ‘And you’re supposed to love him’
‘But how conventional you are,’ the other woman drawled. ‘No wonder you bored him so quickly.’ She smiled lazily. ‘It
is not the first time I have shared him, you little fool, and it will not be the last.
‘He likes variety in his bed, as I do myself, and he is attractive—and very rich, so we suit each other well.
‘But forget any romantic dreams, my little Contessa. He does not understand—love—as you mean the word. He never
has. He cares only about pleasure, which is why he is so fascinating as a lover.’
Her smile widened. ‘However, I hope you have not allowed yourself to fall in love with him,cara . It would only
embarrass him.
‘And I forgive you last night’s little jibe,’ she added softly. ‘Because I knew, even as you spoke, that you were deluding
yourself. That Rafaele has tastes that your bourgeois naïveté could never comprehend, or satisfy. But that I can.’
She rose to her feet. ‘Please believe that I have spoken only for your good, and to explain the situation that now exists.’
She sounded almost casual. ‘I hope we understand each other better and that, in time, we may become friends.’
Emily lifted her chin. ‘And please believe, in turn, that I would as soon make friends with a rattlesnake.’
Valentina Colona took a step towards her. ‘You are being stupid,’ she said softly as Emily instinctively recoiled. ‘Now,
take my warning. Adapt—accept and you will survive. Fight, and you will lose everything, including your right to your
child. Rafaele is irritated by opposition and he can be ruthless.’
She smiled again, this time almost blandly. ‘And now I must take my leave.’ She walked across to the tall glass doors that
led to the terrace and paused.‘Arrivederci , Contessa. I am sure we shall meet again soon. And I wish you good health. I
am told these early weeks of pregnancy can be so very trying.’
Emily watched the door open, then close again. Saw the dark red suit crossing the terrace and disappearing into the
grounds beyond.
Then her legs gave way and she sank down on to her knees and stayed there for a long time, staring blindly into space.
Listening to the desperate, desolate thudding of her heart. Beyond tears, beyond hope.
Simply thinking—thinking…
Until, at last, she knew what she had to do. And how to do it.
White-faced but composed, she rang the bell. ‘Gaspare,’ she said, when he appeared. ‘Will you tell Stefano to bring the
car round in ten minutes, please’ She paused. ‘My headache’s better now and I’m going into the city to have lunch with
Signora Albero.’ And hated herself for lying.
‘Emily, my dear.’ Leonard Henshaw rose to greet her as she was shown into his panelled office. ‘What a delightful
surprise. When I spoke to Rafaele three days ago, he didn’t tell me you were planning a visit.’
Because he didn’t know, thought Emily. Not when she’d simply walked out of his house, with a change of underwear and
her passport stuffed into her largest handbag. She hadn’t even left a note. There was no need, when Valentina Colona
would be delighted to explain everything to him.
And while the ever-patient Stefano had settled down with his newspaper to wait at the front of her favourite restaurant,
she’d marched straight through to its rear door and out into the cool spring day. It was a dirty trick to play on someone
she’d grown to like, but she’d told herself she had no choice. She didn’t have much ready cash, either, but there’d been
enough to get her a cab to the airport.
She’d brought with her, too, the credit card Raf had given her with its astronomical upper limit, using it for the first and
last time to buy herself a first class air ticket to Britain, courtesy of a cancellation.
Now she smiled at Mr Henshaw, brighter than bright. ‘It’s rather more than a visit. I’ve come back here to live. At the
Manor.’ She paused. ‘As you know, it’s my birthday soon and the trust will end. I really need to know the level of
income I can expect from the money my father left, so that I can make proper plans for the future.’
‘Plans’ Mr Henshaw’s jaw dropped. ‘But my dear child—your husband—Rafaele. He must have spoken to you.’
Emily looked down at her bare hands. Thought suddenly of lean brown fingers intertwined with hers. Fought once again
for control, and won.
Ju
st.
She said quietly, ‘The Count Di Salis and I have parted. For good this time. And please don’t look so unhappy for me,’
she added swiftly. ‘At least I have my own home and my own money. Everything will be fine.’
‘My dear girl.’ Mr Henshaw was visibly agitated. ‘This is terrible. Rafaele was supposed to tell you—to explain.’
Emily lifted her chin. ‘I find I don’t care for the Count’s explanations—about anything. If there’s something I should
know, I’d rather hear it from you.’
Leonard Henshaw rose and walked over to the window.
‘Your father had no money.’ His tone was heavy. ‘In the two years before his death he invested in unwise speculative
ventures, looking for quick profits. But none of them prospered and he lost almost everything he had. Even your husband
could only retrieve a little on his behalf from the ensuing mess.’
Emily stared at him. ‘But the trust…’
‘Established with your husband’s money at the time of your marriage.’
‘I want nothing from him,’ she said curtly. ‘If there’s no other way, I’ll—sell the Manor.’
He gestured almost helplessly. ‘My dear—your father remortgaged the property for far more than it was worth to finance
his business deals. Your husband repaid the loans and, as a consequence, Sir Travers made the Manor over to him.’
‘So I have nothing,’ she said flatly. ‘Why wasn’t I warned’
‘Your father was a proud man, my dear. Nothing could be said in his lifetime. And, as Rafaele’s wife, what was his would
naturally become yours too.’
‘Rafaele,’ she said wildly. ‘Oh, God, why didn’t he simply pay my father what he owed him and let us keep our home
Couldn’t he have done that Did he have to take everything from me’
Mr Henshaw gave her an austere look. ‘Your husband has been generosity itself. And he never owed money to your
father,’ he added. ‘It was a different kind of debt.’
‘I don’t understand.’
‘Some years ago, when Rafaele Di Salis was just starting out in the financial world, he was offered what seemed the deal
of a lifetime,’ he told her quietly. ‘He would have become a billionaire before he was twenty five. Only a man—someone
he’d met only once—came to him as a friend, warned him quietly that things were not as they seemed. That his potential
partners were taking advantage of his inexperience and were involved in a scam that could destroy him. That he could
even go to jail.’
He paused. ‘That man was your father. And the Count never forgot the good advice that had saved him from disaster. So
when Sir Travers was in difficulties, he came immediately to his aid. The only one who did,’ he added with some
bitterness.
There was a silence, then Emily said jerkily, ‘I—see. I only wish that his offer of assistance hadn’t involved me.’
‘And I’m sorry that you feel like that, my dear.’ Mr Henshaw looked at her sadly. ‘I have always found your husband’s
conduct admirable.’
She managed a shadow of a smile. ‘But then, Mr Henshaw, you’re not a woman.’
Her mind was reeling as she drove back to the Manor—the house she’d always thought of as her ultimate sanctuary, until
an hour ago.
And Raf hadn’t said a word. He’d let her go on thinking that, once she was twenty-one, freedom and independence
would be hers for the taking.
Yet here she was, with hardly more than the clothes she stood up in. Untrained for anything, homeless and pregnant.
Also, if she was honest, scared. And—lonely.
But she wouldn’t let herself think like that. She couldn’t afford to. She had to make a life for herself where she was no
longer dependent on or answerable to anyone.
After all, as Valentina Colona had reminded her, she was young and healthy. She could cope.
Just as long as she didn’t allow herself to look back—to remember…
The house received her quietly. She dropped her bag on to the hall table, calling, ‘Penny dear, I’m—back.’ Reminding
herself that she could no longer say, I’m home.
There was no answer and she shrugged and walked into the drawing room. Then checked, her hand going to her mouth.
Because Raf was standing by the window, tall and dark against the thin sunlight. Unmoving and silent as he looked at her
across the endless space of the room. Waiting—for her.
Eventually, she said unevenly, ‘If you’ve come to tell me this is your house—you’re too late. I already know. And I’ll be
moving out as soon as possible.’
‘No,’ he said. ‘That is not why I am here.’
‘I thought—if we spoke—it would be through our lawyers.’
‘If we spoke’ he repeated almost wonderingly. ‘You leave without a word to anyone—least of all myself. When the first
I know of your departure is Stefano contacting me, weeping, convinced that you have been kidnapped. When I find my
servants, who adore you, distraught, asking if they are to blame for your absence.
‘When I discover there was no rendezvous with Fiona. That she too has heard nothing.’
His voice rose harshly. ‘And you thought, did you,mia sposa , that I would simply accept your desertion’
‘You don’t have a choice,’ she said. ‘I’ve left you,signore , and I’m not coming back. But you don’t have to worry. I
want nothing from you. I intend to get a job and somewhere to live, and I’ll do it on my own.’
He moved forward and Emily saw him clearly for the first time. He was haggard and unshaven and his eyes looked raw.
For one helpless moment, her heart twisted inside her.
He said, ‘How simple you make it sound—your decision to deprive me at one blow of both my wife and my unborn
child. But finding work is not easy without qualifications.’
‘But I’ll manage,’ she said. ‘If all else fails, I can always put my training at your hands to good use and become a high
class hooker. Maybe I can even ask you for a reference.’
He gasped and she saw the blood blaze into his face. Saw the anger in his eyes as he took a step towards her.
She recoiled instantly, her hands going up as if to ward him off, but in an instant he had himself under control again, turning
back to look out of the window.
He said slowly, ‘My mother died when I was born, Emilia. One of those tragic mischances that no one can foresee, but
which my father, who adored her, was never able to accept.’
He flung back his head. ‘And because of that he never truly accepted me either.’
Emily said, ‘Raf…’ but he shook his head.
‘Let me finish. I need, even as things are between us, to tell you this. For him, the world stopped on the day he lost her.
And, some years later, when he neglected a chill he’d caught out hunting and it turned to pneumonia, he did not even try
to fight for his life.
‘I swore then, as a boy, that I would never allow a woman to have such power over me. That I would never care so
deeply that I could not walk away.
‘And I kept my vow,’ he added, his mouth twisting sardonically. ‘Until, one day at your father’s house, you came flying
into his study, and it seemed as if every springtime I had ever known came with you.
‘And, for the first time in my life, I understood how my father had felt. What had driven him.’