A Husband's Vendetta

by Sara Wood

  Her startled look and grateful nod said it all. She was reliving her torment at the hands of a set of vicious little snobs. Feeling the anger roaring through his body, he gritted his teeth and prompted Gemma to tell her story.

  She seemed more concerned about her mother’s tears as he translated snatches of information into English for Ellen’s benefit.

  ‘No, Mamma!’ protested Gemma, slipping from his lap.

  She gave touching little pats of sympathy to Ellen’s knees, and Luc had to swallow hard before he could speak. He felt proud that his daughter could think of someone else at such a time. And seeing Gemma show love towards Ellen caught at his heart.

  Seeing that Ellen’s distress bothered Gemma, he decided to explain. ‘Ellen was bullied,’ he told his daughter in Italian, his voice gentle and understanding. ‘She had a bad time. The girls at school teased her because she was different from them. She knows what it’s been like for you. She knows better than I do.’

  ‘I am sorry,’ Gemma said to her mother in halting English.

  His eyes met Ellen’s. ‘I’m sorry that you of all people had to be the one who found out,’ he said to her. ‘I’d have given anything to have shielded you from witnessing this.’

  To his surprise, a slow and gentle smile spread across her face. On an irresistible impulse, he went over and sat next to Ellen, taking her hand in his and patting it like a fool. Gemma clambered onto Ellen’s lap and stroked her soothingly.

  They sat there for a long time, talking everything through. Sometimes Gemma would come out with a new and forgotten story of harassment, which always related to the fact that she didn’t have a mother. She was the only one in the whole school whose mother had never shown up for plays, fiestas or school functions, let alone taken her to school each day.

  He knew how much it must hurt Ellen to be reminded of her desertion. And, even though she had created the situation, he could feel nothing but compassion for her. It was clear that she really cared for Gemma now, and it plainly hurt her very deeply to know that their daughter had suffered so much.

  ‘I’m so sorry,’ Ellen whispered lovingly to Gemma. And Luc quietly translated when she continued with, ‘I know how frightened you were. Any time you thought they might come around a corner and point at you and laugh at you and hurt you. It was something you thought about all the time, didn’t you? And I expect they told you to keep quiet or something dreadful would happen.’

  Luc felt so grateful to her. She could articulate Gemma’s fears and was able to show that someone had shared them. The two seemed very close. Two pairs of grey eyes gazing solemnly at one another. Gentle smiles being exchanged. His hand tightened around Ellen’s as Gemma’s lids began to droop.

  ‘Lay her on the sofa,’ he said softly. ‘Let her sleep. She’s had such bad nights lately she must be very tired.’

  ‘You’ll go to the school?’ Ellen said anxiously, after sliding Gemma off her lap.

  ‘Oh, yes.’ He frowned, his anger resurfacing as he thought of the damage done to both Gemma and Ellen. ‘In a moment. Come into the next room so we don’t disturb her. We can hear if she wakes.’

  Beneath his hand he could feel her arm still trembling. When they reached the library he tilted her chin and looked at her carefully. Her lashes were appealingly spiky and there was a touching little quiver in her lower lip.

  ‘I’ll go to the school later. You’re very upset. I don’t want to leave you. Or Gemma.’

  ‘I’m OK,’ she said shakily.

  ‘Not if your pulses are anything to go by,’ he said abruptly, feeling how rapidly they were beating.

  Unaccountably she blushed. ‘I’m just a bit ragged round the edges,’ she said in brave dismissal.

  He had to get away before he leant over and kissed her. He couldn’t believe that his lust should surface even at this highly unsuitable moment. Ellen was recovering from an emotional shock. His daughter was sleeping off the release of her trauma.

  And yet, he thought grimly, wandering around the room and pretending to show a ridiculous interest in a flowering clivia, all he could think of were his own primitive urges.

  ‘I don’t know how to thank you,’ he said, sounding tense and stilted.

  ‘I don’t need thanks,’ she said gently. ‘Knowing that Gemma will be all right is my best possible reward.’

  ‘I’ve wronged you.’ He frowned, wondering why this conversation should be so damn difficult. ‘I misjudged you and your motives.’

  ‘Yes,’ she said equably, and he smiled ruefully to himself at her painful honesty.

  He heard the soft whisper of her footfall and knew she was coming towards him. Then he felt her put a hand on his arm and he remained stiff, fighting back the longing to turn and press his mouth to her soft pink lips.

  ‘Gemma did badly want a mother,’ she pointed out.

  ‘Every woman here under the age of eighty has been given the once-over for that post,’ he answered wryly, thinking of Gemma’s intense campaign to get him fixed up with a woman.

  Ellen walked away before she let out a wail of misery. She felt as if he’d punched her in the stomach. He was telling her that almost any woman would do. Well, she thought angrily, any woman would not do! She had prior claim on the job. And on him.

  Her eyes narrowed as severe doubts threatened the happiness she’d felt now that Gemma’s troubles were being resolved. Luc seemed so edgy with her. He didn’t want to look at her, let alone gaze into her eyes. Was that the behaviour of a man who unknowingly loved her? People in love touched one another often. They kept glancing at one another. But Luc was avoiding her.

  A great sadness sat like a lump in the centre of her chest. She wanted Luc to love her as an equal, to be his friend as well as his lover. She wanted them to trust one another. But how could he do that, believing what he did about her?

  And she couldn’t solve the problem by telling him that she’d left him because she’d had clinical depression. She couldn’t do that to him right at this moment. He already felt dreadfully guilty that he hadn’t been aware of the bullying. No, the revelation about her illness must come later. Until then, he’d justifiably despise her.

  She stood by the window, her eyes fixed somewhere in the mid-distance, where the sea sparkled and danced in the sun. ‘Gemma wants me around,’ she said levelly. ‘I intend to stay. I don’t know how I’ll do it, but I am going to live here on Capri.’

  There was a stifled mutter from Luc. ‘In the Villa Maria?’

  Her mouth pinched in as she realised how appalled he was. He didn’t want her around! Her confidence wavered even more, and then she clenched her teeth and ploughed on, refusing to be swayed from her goal.

  ‘I hope I can find somewhere better. I need a job so that I can support myself, perhaps work in a shop—’

  ‘But, Ellen, do you know the cost of living on this island?’

  ‘I’ve window-shopped—and realised that’s about all I’d ever do here,’ she said ruefully. ‘It seems everyone’s making money hand over fist.’

  ‘No. The costs are astronomical. Think about it, Ellen. Virtually everything has to be brought in by boat. Food, drink, clothes, furniture, building materials… It all has to be shifted by luggage trolleys. Even building rubble has to be packed in small crates a man can carry. It’s a vast, logistical exercise living here and we have to pay for it.’

  ‘Not everyone’s wealthy! Your maids don’t get a fortune, I bet,’ she protested.

  ‘More than the going rate,’ Luc replied. ‘That’s not the point. You’re imagining some rosy future where you finish work and spend time with Gemma. Haven’t you noticed that the shops stay open till nine-thirty at night? It’s a non-starter, Ellen! One of your mad schemes—’

  ‘I’ll do it because I want it badly!’ she cried passionately, whirling around in exasperation. ‘I know it won’t be easy, but I must live near her, Luc. I want to form a bond with her and I can’t do that hundreds of miles away, you must see that!’

>   He didn’t comment, as she’d hoped. He didn’t say that he’d love that, or that she could stay with him, or even that Gemma would be pleased. Instead, he moved around the room, taking books off the shelves and rearranging them. And she couldn’t stand it any longer.

  ‘Why don’t you go to see the school?’ she suggested in a hard, flat tone. ‘I’ll stay while Gemma sleeps. We must talk to her, Luc. Tell her how it is with us.’

  ‘And…how is it with us?’ he enquired with maddening calmness.

  She felt tempted to tell him she loved him. Her body screamed with tension as she brought it under strict control.

  ‘You tell me!’ she said, throwing the ball back in his court. And their eyes clashed. She recoiled at the fierceness of his stare, her lips parting in dismay.

  ‘You want to know?’ he asked huskily, a dangerous glint now in his dark eyes. He began to walk slowly towards her. ‘You want me to say it?’

  She shrank back in alarm, her hand going to her dry mouth. ‘Luc,’ she said nervously. ‘We don’t have to be enemies.’

  He kept coming. She backed up to the bookcase and flattened herself against it. He didn’t love her. His eyes were full of anger and desire.

  She’d made a terrible mistake.

  ‘Enemies or lovers, Ellen,’ he growled. ‘You choose.’

  ‘Why does it have to be like that?’ she asked jerkily.

  ‘I don’t know!’ he grated. ‘Only that it does. I want never to see you again…’ She let out a low moan. His thumb touched her mouth and through its gentle probing she could feel the extreme tension running right through his body. ‘Or to have you in my bed whenever I want. That’s how I feel about you, Ellen. Do what you like with that information.’

  And he spun on his heel and walked out.

  She sat in the silence of the library, shaken to the core by Luc’s declaration. What a choice he’d left her! To ignore one another, or to use each other for sexual release!

  Ellen’s jaw clenched. There was no tenderness in his heart for her. She’d misread lust for love. Anger for passion. So much for her instincts. She’d wanted him to care so badly that she’d imagined telltale signs where none had existed. Only a fiery, volcanic passion.

  And that just wasn’t enough.

  She was still sitting there when he returned. Her heart felt empty. All her hopes had been dashed. Listlessly she looked up, her eyes devouring his taut, energy-packed body.

  She must tell him she would make her own way in life and he could go to hell. Summoning up strength to move, she followed him into the sitting room where Gemma still slept.

  ‘Everything all right?’ she asked shakily, working herself up to a final showdown.

  He straightened, keeping his back to her. ‘Yes.’

  ‘Then I’ll go,’ she said, with equal curtness. ‘But first—’

  ‘You’re not going. You have to stay here!’

  ‘You know I can’t!’ she snapped, glaring at him when he turned around. His face was grey and yet simmering with anger, and she felt a twinge of sympathy for the teachers and Petra and Miranda. It must have been one hell of a confrontation. ‘I want you to explain to Gemma that I must live on my own—but that I love her. Say—’

  ‘I’ll tell her nothing. You have to stay!’ Luc’s eyes blazed into hers, meeting her defiance with a fierce obstinacy. ‘I told them at the school that you would be living here!’

  Ellen’s jaw dropped open. ‘What?’

  ‘I had to,’ he muttered. ‘I talked to the headteacher and those two girls. I began to explain the situation and saw in their sly little eyes that they’d continue to persecute Gemma if they knew you weren’t living with us as Gemma’s proper mother. So I said you were.’

  ‘You didn’t!’ she cried in horror. ‘You know I can’t live here!’ Her neck began to feel hot. It was out of the question. She and Luc couldn’t stay in the same house and keep their hands off each other! ‘You’ll have to go back and tell them you made a mistake—and make those wretched children understand that—’

  ‘They’re looking for a victim and that victim is our child! Don’t you care about that?’

  ‘Of course I care!’ she said, white-faced.

  ‘You have to do this!’ he insisted. ‘For Gemma! She wants you here. Hasn’t she gone through enough?’

  ‘Now who’s using emotional blackmail!’ she cried in despair, unable to bear the thought of Gemma going through hell again.

  ‘I am,’ he said grimly. ‘If that’s what makes you see sense. Pretend everything is normal, can’t you? Let her settle down, have a month or two of normality—’

  ‘It won’t be in the least bit normal!’ she fumed.

  ‘We have to make it appear as if it is!’

  ‘I’m not holding your hand and kissing you at the school gate for anyone’s benefit!’ she spat.

  ‘Who asked you to?’

  Ellen lowered her eyes in embarrassment. It had been the first thing she’d thought of. No. The second. The first had been that Luc would almost certainly come to her room if she slept one night under his roof.

  ‘Oh, you mean appear married…as in not talking to each other!’ she said waspishly.

  Luc glared. ‘All you have to do is to be here. Collect or deliver Gemma sometimes. You can have rooms in the east wing. You can be as independent as you like—but be around for breakfast and when she comes home. Dammit, Ellen, you know you owe it to her!’

  Her nostrils flared with her indrawn breath. He’d hit a raw nerve. Close to weeping, she stared back at his impassioned face and knew that she couldn’t refuse. Her departure when Gemma was tiny had left a scar on them all which would never heal.

  Subdued, she put her hands over her face then slowly let them drop to her sides. ‘For…a month?’ she asked shakily.

  ‘Till she’s stable. You say you care about her. Show it!’

  She winced. He had the power to hurt her more than anyone she knew. ‘Oh, God!’ she whispered painfully.

  He paused, his eyes unreadable as he watched her wilting figure. ‘I had to do it, Ellen. I had no choice.’

  She heaved a huge sigh. He’d fight the world for his Gemma. ‘I suppose so,’ she said defeatedly, and sat down, her legs suddenly weak at the appalling thought of keeping Luc at arm’s length for the foreseeable future.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  SHE had moved in that same day, with Gemma dancing and singing and generally getting under her feet every inch of the way. There was no doubting, thought Ellen now, in relief, that she had become a totally different little girl. Gone were the scowls, the ready tantrums and tears. In their place was a happy, sunny-natured child who seemed eager to do anything for anyone.

  It was that which kept her from packing her bags and leaving. Luc kept snapping at her whenever Gemma wasn’t around, and there was a terrible tension in the air every evening. Fortunately he left immediately after breakfast, and Ellen was able to take Gemma to school and play the role she’d always longed for, that of a normal, boring, have-you-got-your-lunchbox mother.

  Today Luc had phoned during the day, and asked her to join him for a drink on the terrace in the evening. Unusually, he was late, and she’d had to put Gemma to bed herself—not that either of them had minded too much because it was a delicious novelty.

  Nervously she waited in her room, from where she could see the gate. A young man wheeled in a sack trolley full of exotic white flowers for the house, to supplement those from the garden. The two maids hurried out, chattering happily. Finally Donatello appeared—and then Luc.

  She frowned. They seemed to be arguing heatedly. Luc’s PA actually flung his hands up in the air, as if in rejection of Luc’s argument, and stormed off. She leaned into the fluttering white curtains and watched the raw emotions on Luc’s face. He seemed very upset.

  She twitched the swirling skirt of her pale blue dress so that it lay snugly on her hips, and hurried down to the terrace. He was waiting there, a drink in his hand and a frown creas
ing his smooth brow.

  ‘I saw you with Donatello,’ she ventured. ‘You two haven’t fallen out, have you?’

  He gave her a swift, unreadable look. ‘I’ve sent him on a trip to England. He wasn’t keen,’ he said, in the kind of tone that prohibited further questioning. He took a sip of wine. ‘I have found a part-time job for you.’

  Her eyes opened wide in surprise. ‘That’s wonderful, Luc! Thank you! What is it? When do I start?’

  ‘Tomorrow morning. You’ll be dogsbody for the owner of the Vesuvia Jet Line.’ A corner of his mouth twitched. ‘He needs someone to shout at.’

  She smiled. ‘I hope he has a sense of humour! I’m just as likely to shout back! Tell me about him.’

  Luc shrugged. ‘Married, one child. Dragged himself up from nothing, owns five boats and a trans-Europe courier and haulage business.’

  ‘Wow! Are you sure I can work with such a dynamo? My Italian is pretty basic—’

  ‘Most people on Capri learn English, French and German as a matter of course. He’s fluent in four languages,’ Luc said briskly. ‘Your hours are nine to twelve, which’ll give you time to take Gemma to school. Some days you’ll be asked to work from three to seven-thirty as well.’

  ‘Fine.’ She beamed. She would have financial independence. ‘I’ll be able to earn some money at last.’

  He turned strangely veiled eyes to her. ‘Yes. Without taking your clothes off,’ he commented sourly.

  ‘Let’s hope so!’ she said, intending that as a joke.

  Luc merely scowled and she sighed, realising she’d put her foot in it again. He had a serious problem with his sense of humour nowadays.

  ‘I’m having dinner out this evening,’ he told her curtly. ‘So I’ll say goodnight.’

  Ellen’s face fell. She’d spent ages getting ready and had looked forward to being with him. Someone else was to have that pleasure. ‘I’m going out on the town, too,’ she informed him on impulse.

  She’d already discovered that Luc’s cook slept in the room next to Gemma’s and loved babysitting. Why be miserable indoors alone when she could be miserable outside and watch other people have fun?