“I hope I do this dress justice. It’s totally pretty.” She gave him her back to zip up.
Clara was the only woman in the world who'd ever treated him… well, like a husband, which was good. He’d never zipped up another woman before.
“Shall we go?”
Clara was dressed like a siren. Part of him wanted to keep her all to himself, but he ignored the stirring in his pants and directed them toward the door as he asked, “Where?”
Her gaze held a laugh waiting to explode as she said, “To meet your sister.”
“Let’s find her.” He opened the door.
If they stayed near the rumpled bed, he’d help her out of the dress and not show her to the world tonight.
They headed to the backrooms of the castle and toward the balcony of the ballroom some ancestor in the sixteen hundreds had added to modernize the place.
Clara turned on her olive-colored flats that matched her dress. They were quality and had been crafted by the palace shoemaker.
Once they made it outside he pointed toward the old-fashioned maze that some relative had put up before the internet took over amusing people. “I’m sure we’ll find Olivia around here somewhere.”
She covered her lips like this was all a joke as more clouds descended to thicken the fog they stepped into. “I’m starting to believe you don’t have a sister.”
Olivia must have taken off to think, or hide, when he’d arrived. He understood. He had triggers that made him strange to most people too--they entered the maze. “I promise you, she’s here.”
Clara laughed as they turned the first corner. “Of course there is a maze. This is like every gothic horror movie I've ever seen. Is she at the end?”
His lips quirked upward. Somehow Clara made his life much easier to bear. He bowed like a knight of old to escort his lady. “Only one way to find out.”
She patted his shoulder for him to straighten. “You lead the way.”
She stayed beside him as he winked and said, “Out of the mouths of innocents.”
Her face reddened as they walked through the bushes. Clara kept her voice low, “I’m not innocent, not now.”
Without being here in years, he still remembered the way as he led her through. “You are the purest thing here and the hedges know it.”
She placed her hand on his thigh, clearly too shy to just grab his manhood, and shook her head. “Stop Astorre. We’re…”
And then his dark-haired, dark-eyed sister stepped out of the groomed path, hidden by a corner. “Hi, Olivia.”
Clara stumbled to a halt.
Olivia came closer and held her arms out in welcome. “Astorre. Is this your wife?”
She hugged them tight like she was happy that he’d married in the end. The last time they’d talked on the phone, she’d begged him to find a last-minute wife and come home forever. “This is…” He finished, “Clara, my wife.”
Olivia let them go but took Clara’s hands as she studied her like she didn’t believe Clara was real. “I heard you were lovely and touring Europe with my brother. I’m so happy to meet you, Clara.”
Clara glanced at him and then back to his sister. “It’s great to meet you too. Astorre told me you existed but kept the details pretty low.”
Olivia shook her head and walked with them toward the exit as she said, “My brother is always trying to protect me.”
Clara turned around to stare at his sister while walking backward with her hands pressed to her heart. “You’re so different than your brother. You’re lovely and happy.”
Olivia patted her arm. “I’ve never been lovely, but I am happy now.”
Clara let him guide her as she continued to glance behind them to talk to his sister as she asked, “Why?”
Olivia traced both sides of the green hedges as she said, “Because my brother and you will rule this place and I’m now free.”
They made it to the end. What did she mean? “Free?”
She patted his cheek like she was the older sibling though she wasn’t and said the truth to his wife, “Montelino Bay needs the Modena family. During the occupation, our base was impenetrable and important for the royal reunification. Our people here follow both the old and new ways which means someone from the family must be here.”
They headed back to the house as his sister gave Clara a history lesson, and why unlike most of his Avce friends, he’d only stayed at the castle a few nights a year for his entire adult life. He'd hated his life here as a boy which was why he’d refused to stop here for long. He kept his voice low so no one might hear them as they climbed up the steps to the back door balcony of the ballroom. “I was hoping you would stay on as lady of the manor, Olivia.”
She shook her head as her gray slacks matched the army gear everyone wore here. “No. I can’t do that. You’re the lord here, Your Grace.”
He’d come to ensure his marriage was accepted, not to take the castle back.
Life away was better. He’d had sleepless nights here, or nightmares that gripped him in the past. “I don’t want…”
They all walked inside. Olivia turned off the lights so all that flickered were the ones inside the castle as she said, “What happened with our father has to be forgotten. You have to take power now.”
Astorre shivered but said nothing. What could he say?
Everyone was quiet. Clara was the only one with a warm hand to hold, though at the moment, she hugged her waist and asked, “Can I ask you about Max Fionalli?”
Olivia tilted her head. “I thought we weren’t speaking about him, Astorre.”
His sister needed to see that Clara had his full support. “He was in Gibraltar, when we got married. My wife didn’t know about you and him, or the past…”
“Was he…?” His sister cut off her question, but met Clara’s gaze and explained, “When I was sixteen, he caught my eye, but Astorre showed me the truth about him.”
They headed into the great hall. The castle had survived battles for ages. The Manfredi family had been in charge as far back as the stones in the wall, and the earliest were probably when Jesus had walked the earth during the Roman Empire.
“Showed? How?”
Max Fionalli was someone he'd known from college. Olivia said, “My brother brought me to a college party. I was underage but I saw ‘the man I wanted to marry’ with another woman in his arms.”
“That’s horrible,” Clara blurted out.
To Clara it would be a deal-breaker. His sister had felt the same. Hopefully they would bond as friends.
He’d also learned there were other women out there in the world who played with a different set of rules, which was another reason he'd just assumed he wouldn't marry at all.
Olivia had been a better choice to run things here. Clara would be better than him as well. Olivia said, “I learned not to trust men’s words and instead trust their actions.”
Clara glanced toward the dining hall and library off to the side. He never went there. She asked, “What will you do if Astorre and I stay, like you desire?”
“I get to travel now.” His sister walked with them to the dining hall, avoiding the library, as she said, “And not have to make decisions that the bank's interests are fair or not fair, or to decide property disputes of villagers who want to build a pool in their backyard.”
Being fair was part of the job here which was why he’d come back whenever Olivia had demanded he settle something major that she couldn’t handle. He took the seat at the head of the table while the two women flanked him on both sides. “Olivia, this place needs you.”
Olivia motioned for the servants to bring plates of prosciutto and oyster penne, which meant the next dish would also be fish today.
He hadn’t had anything better than home-food in all his travels and he unfolded his napkin as his sister said, “No, Astorre. Montelino Bay needs you, not me.”
Sexism wasn’t something he believed. Men did not make better leaders because of their sex. He picked up his fork. �
��I’m not cut out…”
His sister reached for his arm. “Find the lost key of our mother’s. Find her message that she left for us that the doctor’s said existed.”
He’d spent months avoiding his mother’s message and then he'd left. His sister complained that she couldn’t find the key to his closet where he’d hidden whatever Mother had written before he ran toward boarding school. His voice cracked when he said, “I can’t.”
Olivia straightened in her chair. “You can. Then you can take your rightful place as the Duke of Modena.” She turned toward Clara. “Our mother… the doctors couldn’t save her but she told them a message to write down for Astorre. He’s never read it as it scared him when he was a boy. I think it might help him take his place. Forgive the past.”
“I understand,” Clara said. “I wish either set of my parents had written to me before they'd died.”
Olivia tapped her cheek. “Your parents died when you were just born, no? During the uprising…”
His sister hadn’t been told much about Clara. He finished his pasta and then said, “Clara was adopted as an infant by an American couple who then died themselves later on, so she was raised by her adoptive grandmother who never told her or never knew that Clara was an Avcean noble.”
“I see,” his sister said as the staff took their pasta plates and brought out merzulla alla romana, with a side of proschitto salad, his favorite fish meal as a boy.
Clara’s eyes widened at the second course. “This is too much.”
The mid-lunch was typical here and no one cared they’d already eaten at their friend’s. Once they were all served Clara said, “I found out the day I married your brother my own history, but that doesn’t matter. We’re happy.”
“Then I’m delighted to turn over Montelino Bay to you,” Olivia said.
They ate the meal in silence--he savored his favorite dish as his mind raced.
The last thing he needed was more nightmares, which were guaranteed if he slept here.
The staff brought in tiramisu and coffee. Olivia pointed to have hers served outside and then excused herself. “It was nice to meet you, Clara. Maybe I’ll see you both for dinner.”
“How are you all fit when you eat like this?” Clara patted her belly. “I’m stuffed from all the food.”
The American diet favored the last meal which was probably the unhealthiest, as rest happened too fast, but the lifestyle there had been created around factory work instead of living to the fullest.
He sipped his coffee. “In a few hours, we’ll have the mid-afternoon snack. Life in the castle is full of tradition, but to relax your mind, Clara, dinner is often much lighter as lunch is the main meal.”
Clara laughed. “This was a lot but so good.”
His body grew hard as he stared at his wife. He’d had her countless times now, but he wanted her again as she finished her dessert. “Your sister seems nice.”
“What did you expect?” He hoped to bring her back to their room and forget there were things to do here.
Her eyes were bright so she clearly wasn’t having the same thoughts… yet. He’d have to steer the conversation his way. Clara said, “I hadn’t met her so I’m glad to be wrong.”
“About?” His lips pressed together. His sister wasn’t on his mind.
She leaned closer and whispered like she’d share a secret. “I wondered if maybe she was plotting to take your title and your estate and then maybe marry Max after you were penniless.”
The idea seemed beyond crazy. He massaged the back of his head like he might find understanding. “Why did you-”
“Because…” She folded her hands on the table. “I was trying to put the pieces to a puzzle together that you never explained fully. Can I ask where the Baron de Dona’s lands are?”
He motioned left as he said, “Next door.”
She jerked in her seat. “Seriously?”
This was how his father had come to lust after her mother, not that they needed to discuss that again. “It’s the closest estate to the castle, but not inside the walls.”
She scratched her forehead. “Did we pass it?”
“I’d have pointed it out.” He didn't want to take the time to answer her questions. “We took the land road. It’s closer to the sea.”
Her face blossomed when she smiled. “Well, I do like mist and fog. Maybe it’s genetic.”
This was his opportunity--he reached out and stroked her thigh. “Then your soul knows you belong here.”
She scooted closer in her seat as she asked, “With you?”
“You tempt a saint.” He'd reached her backside.
She wrapped her arms around his neck and stood, so he did too. “Lucky for me, you’re no saint.”
She closed her eyes. He said, “Lucky for both of us. Let’s get back to our room, out of sight.”
His lips claimed hers. She tasted better than the sweet dessert.
She still had that taste of innocence, like vanilla pudding.
Once the kiss ended, he said, “At some point we’ll be hungry for dinner.”
“This exercise you have in mind…” she laughed and kissed his cheek. “I really like being your wife.”
Good, because he needed her, far more that she needed him. But he’d do anything to keep her happy. She was temptation and the epitome of everything he'd wanted but had never found in a woman… until she came along.
Chapter 10
Clara finished her shower and changed into long white pants and an olive green blouse that had just appeared in her closet.
Whoever the castle tailor, dressmaker, and shoe makers were deserved personal thanks, so she would find out their names.
But not today. Tomorrow. She met her husband’s gaze as he brought her an afternoon coffee and a fruit-filled yogurt. He wore pressed gray pants and a dark-green collared shirt, no tie. But the socks with no shoes look he sported just had her chuckling.
He was the most handsome man she’d ever met. He even made dark green sexy. She picked up the coffee, and kissed his cheek.
With him, today was amazing. She hadn’t realized how much fun staying in bed actually could be.
They needed to go to her parents' home as the sun peeked outside the window. She sipped her coffee that tasted better than anything she’d ever brewed, even when she’d worked in a shop as a barista. “Do you think the staff wanted us to do something today?”
He shrugged. “We can start tomorrow.”
Then it was time to ask a question that had been on her mind since she'd arrived in his fortress of a castle. She wrapped her hands around the back of his neck. “The fog is lifting though there isn’t much daylight left.”
He lifted his brow. “What are you thinking?”
She raised her chin to look him in the eye. “I’d like to see the Baron de Dona’s estate.”
He held her waist as he asked, “Thinking of leaving me?”
Absolutely not. She wouldn't leave the one man that had actually made her happy. She let out a sigh and hugged him, listening to his heart.
The thought hit her hard. She’d loved Astorre since they’d met. She let him go and said, “No, I just want to see the place my natural parents lived. I never knew anything about them other than they died and I had no immediate family.”
“Then we’ll go.” He put his black leather shoes on.
She walked beside him and memorized the path to their bedroom. Up the corner stairs, last door in the hall, across from the dining area and library.
Whenever she found time to be alone, she’d check out the library by herself.
She wouldn't pain Astorre with questions but her mind was slightly morbid in wanting to see the place where his life had changed due to something so horrible.
As they walked to the front door, he said, “During the uprising, many lost loved ones.”
“You didn’t?” He led her outside through the gates.
The streets were lined with more people who stared at them. He w
aved. “Montelino Bay takes their military history seriously. My ancestors have always reinforced the barricade of our walls. We withstood bombardments of World War Two and the short-lived uprising because of that dedication to security.”
From her reading of world history, that was quite an accomplishment for a spot of land. They'd stayed as the rest of their world was destroyed and their walls had withstood the unthinkable. She followed him to the limo that waited for them beyond the outer gate. “You already sound like a good leader of your people.”
He went inside the limo after her and said, “I’m not-”
“You’re here and it’s yours.” She pressed her finger on his lip as he took the seat beside her. She took her finger back and said, “My family obviously didn’t take precautions.”
They drove less than ten minutes to a large estate home that was more like where her friend Rossie lived. The limo stopped at a house in the middle of nowhere, with no gates. It had a lovely view of the sea. Astorre stepped out next to her. “With the house being so close to yours…”
“Your mother probably didn’t want to come to my family for help.” He spoke like it was a fact.
Fair. He clearly knew more about her past than she did--but she still needed to see this for herself. There was a black-tarred parking lot next to the landscaped house, and when they headed toward the double doors, staff in olive green uniforms opened them.
His family had probably taken care of this for her, which was nice. Cleaning had been her least favorite gig and he’d had a team clean up after her like she was some fancy lady who never vacuumed instead of…well her.
Clara stepped inside, expecting dust but the air smelled clean. She stilled. Inside the front door was a small museum and a donation box.
Whoever was operating her estate was very smart.
She stared at the photos of people and had zero idea who anyone was.
Was one of the more recent photos her parents? There were no labels to know. And no one to ask since the servants didn't speak English and she didn’t want Astorre to translate until it was absolutely necessary.
Outside the window, she could see tall Cyprus trees surrounding the home, and there was a small piazza-style fountain like she’d seen in Florence. Once they were alone to tour again, she wrapped her arm through her husband’s and asked, “Why wouldn't they have sought shelter at Montelino Bay?”
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