Bedded For the Italian's Pleasure

by Anne Mather

  ‘Because I believe he and Juliet were going into Polgellin Bay this morning,’ Lady Elinor replied smoothly. ‘I know Juliet wanted to see your work.’

  ‘They’ve been and gone,’ said Rafe shortly, deciding there was no point in prevaricating. If he didn’t tell her, Cary surely would. The fact that Liv had been here, too, would ensure a discreet—or in Cary’s case not so discreet—disclosure.

  ‘And did you show her some of your paintings?’ the old lady persisted. ‘She’s such a nice girl, isn’t she? Not at all what we expected.’

  ‘You mean, what you expected,’ Rafe corrected her grimly. ‘I didn’t have an opinion either way.’

  ‘But you’ve met her now,’ Lady Elinor pointed out. ‘You must have formed some opinion as to her character. Josie tells me the pair of you spent some time talking together last evening.’

  Rafe’s teeth ground together. ‘What do you want me to say, old lady? That I like her? That I envy Cary his good fortune? You like her. Isn’t that enough for you?’

  ‘Raphael, Raphael, I’m only asking for your opinion.’

  ‘Really?’ Rafe felt driven. Then he said the unforgivable, ‘Do you think I want to have sex with her? Is that what you want to hear?’

  If he’d expected the old lady to be offended he was disappointed. The peal of laughter that she uttered came clearly over the phone. ‘And do you?’ she asked, causing him no small measure of frustration. ‘Poor Cary. He has no idea what he’s up against.’

  Rafe’s free hand balled into a fist. ‘You can be a nasty old woman sometimes,’ he said, not caring at that moment what she thought of him. ‘Look, is this going somewhere? Because I have to tell you, I’m standing here with just a towel to cover me.’

  There was another silence and then Lady Elinor said, ‘So you’re not going to talk about her?’

  ‘What’s to say? You evidently like her.’ He scowled. ‘Enough to give her my mother’s ring.’

  ‘Ah!’ Rafe had the feeling that that was what the old lady had been waiting for. ‘You noticed.’

  Rafe closed his eyes for a moment. ‘I couldn’t help but notice, could I?’

  ‘If you say so, my dear. Do I take it you object to my generosity? Or is it that you’re afraid Cary might pawn the ring before you can get it back?’

  Rafe heaved a sigh and opened his eyes again. ‘There’s no chance of that, is there?’ He felt weary suddenly. ‘In any case, it was your ring to begin with. You can do what you like with it.’

  ‘Yes, I suppose I can.’ Lady Elinor sounded thoughtful for a moment. ‘But, in any case, that’s not why I rang you. I want you to come to dinner this evening. You’ve not got a previous engagement, have you?’

  Rafe’s jaw dropped. ‘You’re joking!’

  ‘No.’ The old lady was annoyingly smug. ‘I was going to ask old Charteris to join us, but on second thoughts, I prefer to ask you.’

  ‘No way.’

  ‘Raphael, don’t be like that. You wouldn’t want your grandmother to be the odd one out, would you?’ She paused. ‘The Holdernesses are coming, you know.’

  ‘And that would interest me because…?’

  ‘I understood that you and Lady Holderness were old friends.’

  ‘We are friends. Or, at least, we’ve known one another for a number of years.’ He sighed. ‘I’ve told you what the situation is with Liv. She was here this morning, actually. She and your guests arrived together.’

  ‘How cosy!’ Lady Elinor was sardonic. ‘Well? What do you say?’

  ‘About tonight?’

  ‘What else?’

  Rafe’s stomach clenched. He knew that going to Tregellin again while Juliet was there was not a good idea. God, hadn’t he just been telling himself that? And seeing her with Cary…His shoulders hunched defensively. He would be all kinds of an idiot if he agreed to the old lady’s request…

  * * *

  Juliet prepared for the dinner party without enthusiasm. But, she reminded herself, this was their last evening at Tregellin. In the morning they’d be leaving, and she could put all thoughts of Rafe Marchese out of her head.

  And she could forget about what had happened that morning, she added tersely. For heaven’s sake, what had she been thinking of, allowing that man to touch her again? Particularly after what she’d just learned about him. The man was totally unscrupulous; totally without shame.

  As for that story about him painting Liv Holderness portrait: well, was it likely that Lord Holderness—whoever he was—would want everyone to see a portrait of his wife in the nude? Of course, it was just the sort of idea Liv might have had, to give her an excuse to visit Rafe’s studio. But however good the sketches had been, there was no way they were going to be enlarged into a full portrait.

  Full-blown portrait, perhaps, she thought maliciously. Yet despite her reservations, she had to admit Rafe’s talent was an awesome thing. Just a glimpse of those sketches, and she’d known at once who his subject had been. Which wasn’t always easy with a nude.

  She sighed, trying not to think about the morning. What she should be worrying about was what might happen if he chose to tell his grandmother her tawdry little secret. Cary would be hopelessly humiliated. He’d never forgive her for making him look a fool.

  Yet, would that be such a bad thing? she asked herself. Even before this morning, she’d been feeling bad about deceiving Lady Elinor in this way. If she had half the old lady’s character, she’d walk out right now. The trouble was, she didn’t have the train fare back to London.

  No, she would have to stay until tomorrow. And she supposed she owed it to herself to carry the evening off in a way that would have made her father proud of her. If he could see what she was doing, she hoped he’d forgive her. She wasn’t a bad person, she told herself. Just pathetically naïve and weak.

  The black dress with its satin lining and chiffon sleeves was attractive. A lace overdress ended some inches above her knees, but sheer black stockings hid her slender thighs from view. Four-inch heels threatened a twisted ankle, but they were the only shoes that matched the rest of her outfit.

  She hesitated over what earrings to wear and finally settled on gold loops that complemented her necklace. A handful of narrow bracelets circled one wrist while the watch her father had given her for her eighteenth birthday circled the other. She slipped the ruby onto her finger with some reluctance. Since Rafe had told her whose ring it really was she felt even worse about wearing it.

  Still, Rafe wouldn’t be present this evening so she could relax. And she might even make a point of forgetting the ring tomorrow morning and face Cary’s displeasure once they were safely back in London. He could hardly penalise her then, when she’d done everything he’d asked of her. If he guessed she’d left the ring behind deliberately, so be it. It wasn’t his ring and she was unlikely to see him again once this weekend was over.

  With one final critical glance at her appearance, Juliet tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and left the room. It was still early. Barely half-past seven, in fact, but she suspected Lady Elinor would be waiting in the drawing room, ready to greet her guests. The Holdernesses might already have arrived. From the little she knew of Lady Holderness, she knew she wasn’t the retiring type!

  She heard voices as she crossed the hall and her nerves tightened. She’d already lied to four people and she wasn’t looking forward to lying to a fifth. What if someone asked a question she couldn’t answer? Cary was no help. He’d been pathetically eager to abandon her the night before.

  She was so tense that for a moment, when she reached the doorway, she thought she must be hallucinating. The man who was standing on the hearth, one arm resting on the mantel, one foot raised to support itself on the brass fender, was so familiar to her. All in black this evening—black pleated trousers, black turtle-neck and a black velvet jacket—Rafe looked completely at ease in these surroundings. The sweat-stained individual who’d greeted them that morning, or the barefoot artist in jeans and T-shir
t with whom she’d shared those devastating kisses, might have been from another planet. This was Rafe Marchese, Lady Elinor’s grandson, and anyone who thought differently should definitely think again.

  Juliet swallowed and Lady Elinor, who was once again seated on the sofa, raised a welcoming hand. ‘Come in, my dear,’ she said as Rafe straightened away from the mantel. ‘I thought I’d ask Raphael to join us. Raphael, why don’t you ask Juliet what she’d like to drink?’

  CHAPTER TEN

  THE Holdernesses evidently hadn’t yet arrived and it was obvious that Lady Elinor expected Juliet to accompany Rafe to the drinks cabinet and tell him what she’d like. In truth, a stiff vodka wouldn’t have come amiss but, in the circumstances, she might be wise to keep her wits about her.

  ‘What’ll it be?’ asked Rafe, aware of her reluctance to be anywhere near him and disliking the connotations. Dammit, he didn’t want to be here either. But it had been even harder finding an excuse and the last thing he wanted to do was give the old lady any reason to suspect what had been going on. ‘Sherry—or just plain old hemlock over ice?’

  Juliet cast a resentful glance in his direction. ‘I suppose you’re enjoying this, aren’t you?’ she whispered accusingly. ‘Why didn’t you tell me you were coming here tonight?’

  ‘Me?’ Rafe arched a mocking eyebrow.

  ‘Us,’ Juliet corrected hastily. ‘I meant us.’

  Rafe shrugged. ‘Would you believe I didn’t know myself until later in the day?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Nevertheless, it’s true.’ Rafe told himself he didn’t care if she believed him or not. ‘The old lady likes to keep her guests on their toes. Haven’t you realised that yet?’

  Juliet moistened her dry lips. ‘I haven’t been here long enough to make any assessment of her character,’ she replied stiffly, and Rafe gave a reluctant smile.

  ‘Haven’t you?’ He shook his head. ‘I feel as if you’ve been here for weeks.’

  Juliet regarded him defensively. ‘Why do I get the feeling that’s not a compliment?’ She dragged her eyes away from him, trying to concentrate on why she was here. But it was difficult when standing so close to him reminded her so vividly of the heat of his body, the faintly citrus scent that mingled with the clean smell of man.

  But then she remembered the sketches…

  ‘What are you two doing?’ Rafe wasn’t surprised at the old lady’s irritation. ‘Don’t you know it’s rude to whisper?’

  Juliet swung round. ‘I’m sorry—’

  ‘She hasn’t decided what she wants yet,’ said Rafe obliquely. ‘Come on, Juliet. Make up your mind.’

  Juliet cast him a venomous look. ‘Sherry,’ she said abruptly. ‘I’ll have sherry.’ And, reluctantly, ‘Thank you.’

  ‘My pleasure.’ Rafe sought his own relief in mockery, grateful when Juliet went to sit beside their hostess.

  Lady Elinor regarded Juliet closely. ‘What has Raphael been saying to you? Is something wrong?’

  Juliet felt the colour flooding her throat. ‘No,’ she denied unconvincingly. ‘I—Rafe—I mean, Raphael was just offering suggestions about—about what I should drink.’

  ‘Is that all?’ Lady Elinor looked up as her grandson came over to hand Juliet her glass of sherry. ‘You haven’t been intimidating this young woman, have you, Raphael?’

  Rafe straightened. ‘Now, why would you think a thing like that, old lady?’ He glanced at Juliet’s bent head. ‘We hardly know one another.’

  ‘But she did visit your studio this morning,’ Lady Elinor persisted as Juliet’s fingers tightened around the glass. She turned once again to her female guest. ‘Did Raphael show you some of his work?’

  Juliet couldn’t escape an answer. ‘Oh, yes,’ she said, making sure she didn’t look in Rafe’s direction, but the old lady clicked her tongue with some impatience.

  ‘And?’ she prompted. ‘What did you think? Has the boy got any talent?’

  The boy! Juliet suppressed a groan. ‘I’m—sure he has,’ she murmured uncomfortably. ‘But—I’m no expert.’ She glanced up at Rafe, wondering what he’d do if she told his grandmother what she’d seen. She didn’t think she wanted to find out.

  ‘The stock answer,’ said Lady Elinor irritably. ‘You live in London, don’t you? You must have visited other galleries.’

  ‘I don’t have a gallery, old lady,’ Rafe intervened, aware of Juliet’s ambivalence. ‘And you can’t expect Juliet to give you a report when you won’t even come and see for yourself.’

  ‘Of course, you would say that,’ retorted Lady Elinor tersely. ‘Oh, where’s Cary? He must know that the Holdernesses will be here soon.’

  ‘Actually, I thought one of the paintings he showed me was amazingly good,’ Juliet burst out suddenly, surprising herself, and then wished she hadn’t been so impulsive when her supposed fiancé sauntered into the room.

  ‘Really?’ Despite the fact that moments before she’d been deploring her other grandson’s tardiness, now Lady Elinor ignored him to stare at Juliet with sharp, assessing eyes. ‘So why didn’t you say this when I asked you? Why did you let me think that you hadn’t been impressed with Raphael’s work?’

  ‘Because she wasn’t!’ exclaimed Cary scornfully, immediately latching on to the conversation. ‘My God, Grandmama, is that why you sent us there? To act as your unpaid spies?’

  ‘Unpaid?’ His grandmother regarded him without liking. ‘Be careful what you say, Cary. For someone who makes his living hustling at a casino, I don’t think you should criticise your cousin for trying to make a success of his life.’

  Cary’s jaw dropped in consternation and Juliet saw Rafe turn away from the younger man’s embarrassment. ‘Who told you I worked in a casino?’ Cary demanded, his eyes moving suspiciously from Juliet to Rafe and back again. ‘If Jules has—’

  ‘It wasn’t your fiancée,’ replied Lady Elinor contemptuously. ‘Or Raphael, before your suspicions turn in that direction. I’m not a complete fool, Cary. I have friends in the City. They keep me informed of what you’re doing. And why not? You have nothing to hide, do you?’

  ‘No!’

  Cary was indignant, but his reddening face gave the lie to his words, and once again Juliet wished she’d never allowed herself to get involved in his affairs. No matter what she thought of Rafe’s behaviour, her own was so much worse.

  Relief came with the sound of a car outside and then voices in the hall heralded the arrival of Lady Elinor’s other guests. The old lady got to her feet herself to greet Lord and Lady Holderness and, if she considered Liv’s slashed neckline and silky harem pants hardly suitable for an informal dinner party, no one would have guessed from her benign expression.

  Robert Holderness was a man in his late fifties, whose genial demeanour disguised an evident pride in his young wife. Wearing a dark dinner jacket and tie, he ushered Liv into the room ahead of him, nodding a greeting to Rafe before going to take Lady Elinor’s outstretched hand.

  ‘Sorry we’re late, Ellie,’ he said, and for a moment Juliet didn’t know who he was talking to. Then Elinor—Ellie—clicked into place, and as she showed her comprehension she saw Rafe watching her from across the room.

  ‘Think nothing of it, Bob,’ Lady Elinor assured him pleasantly. ‘And this must be your new wife. Olivia, isn’t it? Raphael tells me that you and he are old friends.’

  Liv looked slightly taken aback for once. ‘I—Yes,’ she said, clearly not expecting to be welcomed in such a manner. She licked her lips nervously. ‘What a—lovely home you have, Lady Elinor.’

  ‘I like it.’ The old lady’s answer made no allowance for the fact that the place was practically falling about her ears. Rafe thought that only someone of Lady Elinor’s breeding could say a thing like that and get away with it. She gestured towards the tray of drinks. ‘Raphael, perhaps you’d offer our guests an aperitif?’

  ‘I’ll do it.’ Cary brushed rudely past his cousin and positioned himself beside the cabinet. ‘What’ll
you have, my lord? Scotch and soda? A Martini?’

  ‘Perhaps you should ask my wife first,’ Lord Holderness declared a little testily. He turned to Liv. ‘What would you like, my dear?’

  ‘Oh—um, a little white wine, please,’ she said, though Juliet noticed her eyes were on Rafe, not Cary. ‘I think you should have the same, darling. You know what Dr Charteris said.’

  ‘Charteris is an old woman,’ declared her husband shortly, and Lady Elinor, who had resumed her seat, clapped her hands.

  ‘Bravo,’ she said. ‘I totally agree with you, Bob. But,’ her eyes turned towards Juliet, ‘I haven’t introduced you to my other guest. You haven’t met Cary’s fiancée, Juliet, have you?’

  ‘Why, no.’ Lord Holderness came to shake Juliet’s hand warmly. ‘How do you do, my dear?’ He glanced at the younger man. ‘I didn’t even know your grandson had a regular girlfriend.’

  ‘Nor did we,’ murmured Lady Elinor drily, but her smile for Juliet begged forgiveness.

  ‘Let me introduce you to my wife,’ Lord Holderness continued, still speaking to Juliet. ‘I’m sure you and she will have much more in common. What do you say, Olivia?’

  Juliet thought Liv looked a little sick now, but she couldn’t find it in her heart to feel sympathy for her. For heaven’s sake, the woman was cheating on her husband. How defensible was that?

  ‘As a matter of fact—’ she began, ignoring the plea in the other woman’s eyes, but before she could reveal that she’d met Lady Holderness earlier in the day Cary interrupted them.

  ‘That’s two white wines, then, is it?’ he asked, clearly resenting the fact that he was being sidelined, and Liv turned gratefully in his direction.

  ‘Please,’ she said. ‘If that’s all right with you, Bobby?’

  ‘Whatever Lady Holderness says,’ her husband declared, making it obvious that he expected Cary to treat his wife with respect. ‘I just do as I’m told.’

  ‘Oh, Bobby, that’s not true,’ Liv protested, once again jumping in before Juliet could speak, and Lady Elinor took the opportunity to invite her to sit beside her on the sofa.