The Colorado Countess

by Stephanie Howard

  Bud and Carrie continued to walk in silence for a moment. Then Bud said, ‘You know, sometimes it helps to talk.’ And he gave her arm an encouraging little squeeze.

  Carrie shook her head blindly. Her throat was raw and aching from the effort of trying to hold back the tears.

  ‘Come on, hon. I can see it’s nearly killing you.’ There was real pain in his voice. ‘I can’t bear to see it.’

  It was too much. In her frail state she could not bear such kindness. Carrie turned to look at him and found she could not speak. Then something inside her snapped. With a little cry of anguish she threw her arms around his neck.

  And that was when, with a vicious squeal of tyres, the low black sports car shot away from the kerb as its driver stamped down hard on the gas. His face was rigid with fury. He should have known better, he was thinking. He should have realised he’d only be wasting his time.

  For Leone had been waiting there at the kerbside for more than an hour after she had failed to answer his ring on the doorbell. It had been intuition that had brought him. But that intuition had been wrong.

  For when he had got the message from Pierre a couple of days ago that a young lady sounding remarkably like Signorina Carrie had phoned him, refusing to give her name, but promising to ring back the following morning, Leone had dared to hope that a change of heart might be on the cards.

  Maybe she’d broken off with her boyfriend. Maybe she’d had second thoughts. He’d waited for her to call again but, when no call had come, he had decided to go and confront her himself. For he had a strange feeling in his bones that things were not quite as she’d told him—that it wasn’t over yet, that there was still a crumb of hope.

  More fool me, he was thinking now as he drove like a maniac along the highway, heading for the Palazzo Verde. He had seen with his own eyes that her romance was still thriving, and he felt bile on his lips as he saw again in his mind’s eye that moment when she had thrown her arms around her lover’s neck.

  Well, I’m glad I saw it, he told himself. There could be no more doubts now. It was definitely over. Finished. Done.

  He glared furiously at the road ahead, black flames leaping from his face. And of one thing, in his heart, he was absolutely certain. No matter what might happen, he wouldn’t have her back now, even if she crawled to him naked over broken glass.

  Bud flew off to London the following day.

  Carrie saw him off at the airport knowing that she would miss him, though he had promised to call her from time to time and see how she was doing. For he had been distressed by her unhappiness and anxious to comfort her. He really was the kindest friend in all the world.

  In the end, of course, Carrie had told him everything and he had listened with a wise, patient look on his face. And what had he told her? He had told her, ‘Hang on in there. In life you never know how things are going to turn out, and in my experience love is a powerful force. So don’t give up yet, hon. I reckon anything could happen:

  Carrie had reflected endlessly on this prognosis. Could he be right? she kept asking herself, over and over. Should she really go on hoping? Or would she simply be fooling herself?

  If she and Leone got back together again, could there really be a future for them, in spite of the Duke’s opposition? Or would he simply do to them what he had already done to Caterina?

  And, of course, there was another small problem to consider. The small, crushing matter of the brunette in the photograph.

  Carrie’s mind spun round in circles, reaching no conclusion. At times, she dared to hope. At others, she despaired. The only thing that never changed, the thing that was constantly with her, was the misery that gnawed, without release, at her heart.

  It was a couple of days later that, out of the blue, Caterina called, inviting Carrie to come round for tea.

  ‘I’m feeling a bit more human now,’ she said, ‘and I’d love to see you.’

  So Carrie ended up spending an enjoyable afternoon at the palace. Caterina was far from in high spirits—no more than was Carrie herself—but at least she hadn’t lost her sense of humour and was trying hard to be philosophical about the situation. And, to Carrie’s relief, Leone’s name wasn’t even mentioned, though Carrie did tell Caterina a bit about her pleasant couple of days with Bud.

  When Carrie left, insisting that she could find her own way out, for Caterina had a pressing appointment in her office, she was feeling almost philosophical herself. Whatever happens, I’ll survive, she was telling herself firmly as she made her way with quick strides along the corridor. But then she turned a corner and in her very next breath all her fine philosophy unravelled at her feet.

  ‘Were you looking for me?’

  Leone was standing before her and every muscle in her body had turned to water.

  It was little more than a week since she’d last seen him, but suddenly it felt like for ever and she wondered, with a twist of anguish, how she had ever survived without him. He meant everything in the world to her. He was her reason for living. Just looking at him now made her soul weep with pleasure.

  ‘Well, were you?’

  He was dressed in a pair of light blue trousers, with a blue-striped shirt, sleeves rolled back to the elbows, that looked perfectly stunning with his tanned skin and jet-black hair. He was the most marvellous-looking creature she had ever seen in her life.

  But there was no hint whatsoever of that smile she so loved. As he looked down at her there was a dark, impatient frown between his brows.

  ‘I hope not,’ he added brusquely. ‘That would have been rather a waste of time.’

  It took Carrie a moment to pull herself together. What was he saying? He’d been asking if she’d been looking for him. She shook her head hurriedly. ‘No. I’ve been visiting your sister.’

  ‘Then what are you doing here?’ One dark eyebrow lifted. ‘If your visit is over, why aren’t you just leaving?’

  ‘I am. I was.’

  Carrie was suddenly acutely conscious of just how hard and hostile his tone was. In her confusion it hadn’t quite registered until this moment. But it was very clear indeed that he was far from pleased to see her. In fact, he seemed angry that she should be here at all.

  The realisation crushed her. He really does hate me, she thought miserably.

  Leone continued to stand over her, eyes like barbed wire as he looked down at her. ‘I repeat, in that case, what are you doing here?’

  ‘I—What do you mean?’ Suddenly confused, Carrie glanced round her. ‘Surely this is the—?’ Then she stopped and flushed to her hair roots. She was not where she’d thought she was. This was not the way out. Somehow, she’d strayed into Leone’s private quarters.

  Oh, Lord, she thought, I’m losing my marbles. What on earth could I have been thinking of?

  Leone had his own theory about that. ‘If you were coming to see me, as I said before, that would have been rather a waste of time. I can’t think that you and I have anything to say to each other these days.’

  ‘Perhaps not.’

  The coldness in his eyes was chilling. Unable to bear it, Carrie dropped her gaze to the carpet. Though it wasn’t true, she was thinking; there were some things she’d like to say to him, things that might thaw that ice-cold hate in him. Like that it had all been a lie that she had a boyfriend. That the only man she loved, or could ever love, was him.

  She raised her eyes slowly to look into his face again. It was she who had made him hate her. And now she must take that hate away.

  ‘Actually, I wasn’t looking for you. I must have been dreaming and got lost.’ She took a deep breath and frowned at him earnestly. ‘But I’m glad I bumped into you. There are some things I’d like to sort out.’

  ‘Sort out?’ His tone was scathing. ‘I think it’s a little late for that. It seems to me you’ve already got things pretty well sorted out.’

  ‘But I haven’t. That’s the point.’

  ‘No?’ His eyes swept over her, taking in the short white skirt sh
e was wearing that revealed the tanta-lising length of her legs, the neat waistcoat top, the blonde hair brushed back from her face. ‘You look as though you’ve got things very well sorted out to me. You look as though there isn’t a hair out of place in your life.’

  ‘That’s not so.’

  ‘You surprise me.’

  ‘Leone.’ She stepped towards him. ‘There’s something I have to tell you. It’s about Bud. I. . .’

  ‘Ah, yes. Bud.’

  He had cut in sharply, and though he did not step back he managed nevertheless to give the impression of once more widening the gap between. Perhaps it was the look in his eyes, or the way he was standing, but there was a bottomless gulf a mile wide between them.

  His eyes swept over her again, but this time scathingly. ‘Now that he’s gone, you must be missing him. He has gone, I presume, and that’s the reason you’re here to see me? Suddenly you find yourself at a loose end.’

  ‘That’s not the case. It’s nothing like that.’ Carrie felt deeply insulted at the very suggestion. Though it was her own fault that he thought that, after what she had told him. She insisted, ‘Leone, it’s nothing like that.’

  But he wasn’t listening. ‘You don’t like a cold bed, do you? You need a lover—any lover—to warm it up for you.’ His eyes were as harsh as winter and full of contempt for her. ‘Well, I’m terribly sorry but I’m not for hire this time. I’m afraid you’ll have to find yourself another stud.’

  It was as though he had slapped her. Carrie felt herself recoil from him. This was one insult she most definitely did not deserve!

  ‘Where the devil’s that coming from? How dare you speak to me like that? I demand that you apologise immediately!’

  ‘Apologise?’ He laughed brutally. ‘That’s the last thing I’ll be doing. Still, I admire your gall in coming up here, just like that, dressed to the nines, touting your wares. . .’

  ‘I’m not dressed to the nines! I’m dressed the way I always dress—’

  But he cut in coarsely, eyes scanning her long legs, ‘You know my weakness, so you came suitably rigged out. Well, the legs are gorgeous, as I’ve told you many times, but there are no takers this time. You’d better try someone else.’

  ‘You’re unspeakable!’

  Carrie was almost choking with anger, but somehow she managed to force the words out. Her hands were clenched into fists. She wished she could punch him. Lay him out cold on the crimson carpet.

  She glared at him. ‘Your trouble is you think everyone’s like you! You think everybody sleeps around like you do. A blonde one night, a brunette the next. . . And what will it be tonight?’ she demanded cuttingly. ‘A redhead?’

  He paused for only as long as it took to compose his stony features into a cruel and gloating smile. ‘No, I’m having the brunette again. She rather appealed to me.’ He fixed her with a look that was totally without pity. ‘I take it you’re referring to the one in the photograph the other day? She was rather special, wasn’t she? With legs even longer than yours.’

  Carrie couldn’t help it. She felt the blood drain from her face and suddenly her skin had grown as cold as marble. Something stuttered inside her. She felt a huge grief well up. So, it was true, after all. The very thing she had feared most.

  She said thinly, only just managing to force the words between her lips, for the muscles had gone quite numb and stiff, ‘Congratulations. I hope you enjoy her.’

  ‘Oh, I shall, don’t worry.’

  Leone had noticed her pallor, but though he gained no satisfaction from it it did not move him either. She was mistaken if she thought she could play these games with him. Gravely mistaken. He would teach her a lesson.

  He continued as she remained silent, ‘And I wish you enjoyment with Bud—or whoever you choose to fill in for him until you see him again.’

  ‘No one will be filling in.’

  ‘You’ll be seeing him again soon, then?’

  ‘I expect I shall. After all, I’ll be going home soon.’

  Though not nearly soon enough, she was thinking, dully. For suddenly she was filled with a near-frantic desire to be gone from this place at the earliest possible opportunity. And not just gone from the palace, which she longed to flee from right this minute, but gone from the entire state of San Rinaldo, which she was suddenly realising could only bring her pain now. If she was to save what little remained of her precious sanity, she must pack her bags and get out of here, fast.

  She began to step away. For a start, she would end this conversation. But then Leone said, ‘So, when are you planning to leave? I suppose you’ve got about another week here?’

  That would have been right according to her earlier calculations, but even as she looked at him Carrie found herself revising that.

  But she revealed nothing to him. ‘I expect so,’ she answered. Then she began to move away again. ‘And now I really have to go.’

  Leone did not try to stop her. He just stood where he was and watched her as she turned round and headed back the way she’d come. But if she’d glanced across her shoulder Carrie might have been surprised at the fiercely intense expression in his eyes. It wasn’t malice. It wasn’t anger. It was something closer to regret. And it followed her till she’d turned the corner and disappeared from sight.

  But Carrie was aware of none of that. Her mind was focused on something else now. For she was trying to work out just how long it would actually take her to finish the work she still had to do here and get on a plane back to America and sanity. And by the time she’d reached the courtyard where a palace limousine was waiting for her she’d come to a highly satisfactory conclusion.

  If she worked day and night, virtually every hour that God sent, she could wrap everything up within seventy-two hours.

  She climbed into the back of the limo and sat back with a grateful sigh. Only three more days of purgatory to go.

  CHAPTER TEN

  ‘DR LAMBERTI, I want to thank you for all the help you’ve given me. I don’t know what I would have done without you.’

  ‘The pleasure has been all mine, Signorina Carrie.’ Dr Lamberti beamed and shook her hand warmly. ‘And remember, if you’re ever back in San Rinaldo you must drop in at the factory and pay me a visit.’

  ‘Oh, don’t worry, I would. That’s one thing you can count on.’

  Carrie said it sincerely, for if she ever was back in San Rinaldo the charming manager of the Castello factory was one person she would definitely want to see again. But she would never be back, of course. That was absolutely certain. When she flew out of here tomorrow it would be goodbye for ever.

  Back in her little office Carrie finished packing up her things. She had said all her goodbyes now and it had been dreadfully emotional, for she had met so many wonderful people during her stay here. She knew she would remember them as long as she lived.

  She’d called Caterina last night at the palace to say goodbye and had felt a little guilty at her friend’s surprise at her sudden departure.

  ‘I thought you’d be here for a while yet. I was hoping to see you again. What a pity. And I can’t even see you tomorrow. I have to go to Vienna for a couple of days.’

  ‘I’m sorry, Caterina. It’s just the way things happened. I have to leave a little earlier than I’d anticipated . . .’ Carrie had let her voice trail off. She could scarcely go into details. ‘But I’ll keep in touch, and I hope everything works out well for you. And—who knows?—maybe our paths will cross again.’

  It would be lovely if they did, she thought to herself now as she dropped the last few bits and pieces into her briefcase, snapped the lock shut and glanced at her watch. She had grown fond of Caterina and she’d sensed that they might have become good friends. But the sad fact was that they would probably never meet again.

  She picked up her briefcase and headed for the door. The car Dr Lamberti had laid on to take her home would be waiting for her down at the main door. And as she headed for the ground floor, down the elegant mar
ble staircase, she smiled a wry little smile to herself. At least she would be able to keep an interested eye on what was happening in Caterina’s life, through the reports that would be published in all the newspapers and magazines, even though Caterina would know nothing about hers.

  And that was when it suddenly struck her that the fairy tale really was over. Her glamorous association with the Montecrespi family finally had come to an end. She would miss it all a little, for it had been an exciting time. The trips to the palace in the black limousine. Meeting the Duke. Making friends with Caterina. It had definitely been something out of the ordinary and it had provided her with lots of happy memories to look back on.

  She preferred not to think about the darker side of the coin—about Leone and her love for him and how it had all come to nothing. That wound was still too raw to bear even the most delicate probing. She was just glad to be going, to be leaving him behind her. Perhaps once she had put some distance between them her heart might finally start to heal.

  The car carried her towards home, up the winding, tree-lined road, and she sat forward as they turned the bend and the villa came into view. A moment later, they were drawing up outside.

  ‘Thank you,’ she told the driver, handing him a generous tip, for he had done her this service several times before.

  Then, without a backward glance, she was hurrying through the gates and up the stairs to her flat for the very last time.

  Carrie woke up with a violent ringing in her ears.

  Still struggling from sleep, she reached out with a groan to switch off the alarm on the bedside table. What misery! Was it really time to get up already? It felt as though she’d only just fallen asleep!

  And she had! As her eyes focused with difficulty on the clock face she could see that it was only twenty to one. But it couldn’t be that. Perhaps the clock had stopped? But it couldn’t have stopped. If it had, it wouldn’t be ringing!

  She frowned for a moment in total confusion, then belatedly her brain slipped into gear. It was twenty to one and it wasn’t the alarm that was ringing. That shrill, persistent racket in her ears was the doorbell!