But Olivia couldn’t go--what would Astorre do without her?
If she left he'd be the only family in this castle which was exactly what he’d done to her so he couldn’t protest now. This wasn’t what he'd expected out of life. He'd never wanted to be here and he’d wanted his sister to stay.
Astorre couldn’t protect anyone from when he snapped into a monster, but if anything ever ever happened, he doubly failed. The lord of Montelino Bay’s very job was to protect everyone.
Olivia had no idea the storm in his mind as she said, “Astorre, you and your wife are in love and you’ll be happy here. I’m glad you both came to the room. And that I get to say goodbye.”
Olivia had no clue that she was wrapping a rope around his neck and that he couldn’t quite breathe. “I need you to stay.”
She shook her head and a tear rolled down her cheek. “No, you need to be the lord of the manor that you are.”
For a little sister, she'd always had better command of any situation. He lowered his head and said, “I can’t…”
The rest of the words… that he couldn’t be in charge here wouldn’t come out of his mouth.
Olivia hugged him and Clara at the same time as she said, “You can, Astorre. You’re the Duke of Modena, you can do anything, including defend the castle.”
Defending this pile of stone wasn’t a responsibility that should ever be on his shoulders.
Olivia nodded and walked out the door like a soldier.
For a moment the room was eerily quiet. Clara broke the spell around him when she said, “Your sister isn’t like I thought.”
She was different. Olivia was stronger than him. It was so clear to him. “Olivia was always like our mom. I thought you’d both get along. I wanted her to stay but I didn’t want to guilt her anymore into staying. Her leaving though, it feels too fast.”
“She can always come home when she’s ready. Maybe she just needs a break.” Clara patted his shoulder and motioned toward the door as she said, “I hope she finds real love one day.”
He stilled. His father had been a coward. He'd murdered the sweetest woman in the world because… he couldn’t handle that one day he might transform like that and hurt his wife too.
And if Clara left him would he slowly rot as well? At what point did he become his father? “What if Max didn’t turn her crazy because he wasn’t really in her heart?”
Clara blinked. “What are you saying?”
She was sweet, beautiful, and had no idea the monster he truly was. He opened the door and his blood ran cold. “I’m just saying that love for the Manfredi family is a bad idea.”
In the middle of the great room where anyone might come or staff might hear she asked, “Are you afraid of love, Astorre?”
Of course she didn’t know that the castle was built for everyone to hear them here.
He lowered his head so their foreheads touched and whispered, “Yes.”
Her eyes widened but she didn’t pull away. She placed her hand on his heart as she asked, “Even with me?”
The beat of her heart made his want to find a different rhythm, one that followed hers. “You terrify me.”
Her mouth quivered. “Me?”
He let out a sigh and his lips ached for her kiss, the only truly good thing he had in his life. “Yeah. I never want to hurt you.”
She closed her eyes and lifted her mouth. “You can’t.”
Innocence was better than ruination. He claimed her lips. Only in Clara’s embrace could he take what he wanted. She shouldn’t let him, but he’d take everything she offered.
Without asking, he reached under her knees to pick her up and said, “Let’s get out of here. Breakfast can wait.”
She laughed like she was happy.
He’d do everything to keep her that way--she never needed to know the truth about him and who he truly was inside. If she did, she’d hate him.
Chapter 12
If every night of being married to Astorre were like the past few then Clara's time as an unfortunate soul was over.
Though she probably wouldn't walk right, but that was fine.
She left the shower and dressed in another knee-length skirt and blouse; the skirt was olive green and the button-down of the day was black.
Astorre returned to their room with coffees on a tray. She took the cup and kissed his cheek then went in search of her black flats. She pointed toward the window with her head. “The fog is back.”
He placed the tray of food on a side table as he said, “It’s never really gone here.”
Right now she was too happy to actually eat. She finished her coffee and put her cup down. “It’s a good thing you have a castle then. I’d like to see the town.”
He grabbed his phone out of his back pocket. “I’ll summon umbrellas.”
“Later.” She waved him off and picked up a small raspberry tart, popping it in her mouth.
It was heavenly.
He crossed his arms and leaned against the wall in front of the bed. “What else do you want?”
She grabbed a second tart as it was delicious. “Your sister said you had a closet with a lost key. I worked as a locksmith and can try to jimmy the lock.”
“Interesting, but unnecessary.” His face tightened and he pushed off from the wall. “It's in my boyhood room.”
So this room they were staying in wasn’t where he'd hid when he’d been a sad boy missing his mother.
Clara had vivid memories of her room at her grandmother’s house and how she'd always wished her adoptive parents hadn’t died. She’d lie on the bed with her eyes closed and imagine a different life, like the one she led now. She reached out and brushed his forearm. “This wasn’t your room then?”
He shook his head and let out a small sigh like he felt a spark between them too. “No, this was my grandfather’s chamber. He was truly the last worthy lord of Montelino Bay.”
Worthy. Deserve. Her husband had clear lines in the sand. She’d tackle that slowly--later. “How are you the Duke of Modena if everyone here is a lord?”
He relaxed his shoulders as if grateful for the distraction. “The house and the title are different names.”
When he'd first explained that she was a duchess, he’d said "grace" but no one here used that fancy title as it wasn’t in the military chain of addresses. She took a seat on the bed. “Yes, but your title is Modena and that sounds modern.”
He sat beside her, pushing the bedspread aside. “We do have a modern town nearby, but that can’t be protected inside the walls.”
This was more responsibility than she'd imagined. Her friend, Rossie, was redecorating her home but not listening to cases. Clara preferred to pitch in however best she could. She slipped her flats off and then crossed her legs on the mattress. “But you’re in charge there too?”
He nodded. “There are duties of nobility and family responsibility. Montelino Bay has a long history. A king a thousand years ago wished to thank an ancestor, which was how we became Dukes of Modena. Defenses against air, land, and sea are taken seriously here. Our people are often the military heads of Avce… we follow the ways that have always worked.”
So outside the castle, he was a duke, and called "Your Grace" but inside he was a lord like in olden times. He ruled over soldiers who were more like knights of old. This was very interesting and just like medieval histories she’d read. She stood and tugged his hands. “So, show me your old room… then we can figure out the key and the message your mom left for you.”
His lips thinned but he got to his feet and put his hands in his pockets. “I don’t know if I want to.”
“Okay, no problem.” She hoped he wasn’t hurt that she'd asked. Her heart continued to race a little. “We don’t have to then. I just thought you’d like my help to face the past so that you don’t have to be alone.”
Color rushed to his face and he untucked his hands. “Clara, you’re sweet.”
She slipped on her shoes and walked beside him to l
eave their bedroom.
She glanced back at the bed, sure that when she returned someone would have come in and cleaned a small mess and not a disaster. “So what do you want to do?”
He reached for the door. “I’ll show you Montelino Bay and the town. You’ll be helping me as lady of the manor.”
Doing nothing wasn’t a decent fit for her as she’d always been busy. Until coming to Europe she couldn’t remember a day off. With an eager step, she marched beside him. “What does that include?”
He spoke like she understood this world already when that was far from the truth. “Help me decide issues, have your own women’s council, and of course, keep me level-headed.”
She'd never decided anything and it sounded rather scary. They descended the stairs in step as she asked, “Are you a judge here? Your sister mentioned bank interest rates for a pool being built.”
“Yes and no.” He bumped into her side. She wondered if the great room downstairs had housed an army centuries ago. “This isn’t the United States where everything is structured for lawyers and judges. In our small community, we prefer to deal with each other, and we have a more expedient way to handle local issues.”
They strode out of the gate that opened for them and into the small walled town. People bowed as they cross. She asked, “What happens if you have an issue with an online retailer or someone from out of town?”
He nodded at a clerk inside the bank while he said, “Then we rely on the king or international courts.”
An older woman and a little boy about ten both bowed as they passed them on the street. Clara waved but as they moved ahead, she asked Astorre, “How did your castle mask itself from aerial bombs in World War Two?”
They forged ahead but her husband had his head level like he was assessing everything and walked like a general. “We didn’t mask the town like we could now with technology. Every man, woman, and child in Montelino Bay had been given a specific task. Everyone had a job from air raid wardens, auxiliary firefighters, fire watchers, first-aid workers, and construction assignments to keep us all isolated. We worked together just as our ancestors had.”
The culture of being a unit was evident in this castle. She’d never been part of anything like It.
“My lord.” An older man in a baseball cap, with a gap in his teeth, bowed.
The man’s wife joined him, her gray hair tucked in a kerchief around her head. Astorre placed his hand on Clara's back. “Good day, sir, ma’am. This is my new wife, Lady Clara.”
The old woman smiled proudly. “Lovely to meet you, my lady.”
Clara offered to shake her hand and the woman stared at her like she was an alien, so Clara lowered her hand. “Nice to meet you, too.”
The couple continued on and they went forward. She stepped on stones that had been there longer than the country of her birth. Clara looked up and saw the perpetual fog that must also offer protection to the walled town from air sightings.
Her imagination recalled the movie Aladdin and someone selling a lamp as she walked by a shop with brass offerings including an ancient lamp.
She absorbed everything as they turned toward a jeweler with an outdoor stand, and she picked up an obsidian necklace. Astorre said, “The uprising where your birth parents were murdered reminded our people of the need to protect ourselves.”
Clara put the necklace back but Astorre gave the merchant cash and bought it for her. “Thank you. This is all extremely interesting. I’ll enjoy living here, I think.”
Astorre handed the necklace to her. “Let’s return to the castle.”
She waved at the jeweler who smiled in a friendly manner. Once they turned away, she asked, “Why the sudden change?”
He took a deep breath and then said like they shared a secret, “It’s time to find that letter from my mother.”
Her heart lifted. “Sounds good to me. But what changed your mind?”
In the distance near the gate she swore she recognized Max, a tall man with his collar flipped up. Her hair stood on end as Astorre said, “You. Montelino Bay.”
“Hey--is that Max Fionalli?”
Astorre held her arm a little closer to his body and sped up as they rushed inside the inner castle. “Yes, I think so. I need to find the letter before my sister leaves, if she hasn’t already…and we need to warn her that Max is here.”
Her pulse quickened. “Okay. What should I do?”
He pointed her to the stairs. “You find my sister. I know where I hid the key.”
She stilled for a moment as her heart beat wildly, “It’s not lost?”
He shook his head. “It was to anyone who didn’t know about my hiding place, and I forgot about it until moving back. I’ll get the key. I hope our mother mentioned Olivia too.”
Clara would help. His family was her family and this was now her home too. “I’ll get her and bring her to you.”
He pointed her upstairs on the other side of the great hall and he took a different stairwell. “Thank you, Clara.”
She wanted to kiss him. It wasn’t the time, and probably inappropriate--but she loved him. He glanced at her and she rushed in the direction he'd pointed while she said, “I… I’m on my way.”
Clara's body rushed with adrenaline, helping her run as fast as she could. If Astorre wanted his sister there to read the note, then she’d get her.
Chapter 13
Astorre understood three things. One, men like Max don’t keep popping up unless there was a reason. Two, the target must be either Clara, or Olivia, and at the same time, his sister wanted to leave. So three, he needed a reason for her to stay.
One that wasn’t taking over his responsibility.
With Clara at his side, he would accept his place as a responsible Lord of Montelino Bay.
He went into his old room, and saw the locked closet, his boyhood clothes, and toys.
This was once his sanctuary when he was hiding from his father’s temper and he knew every floor board. And every hole in the wall. He moved back one of the floorboards with his foot that triggered the small tear in the wall paint that held that letter he’d only glanced at as a boy. His fingers were almost too big to grab it now, but he managed to tug his mother’s letter out and tears formed in his eyes.
He opened the letter addressed to him, written in neat penmanship that wasn’t his mother’s. The words on the page made his hard chest break into a trillion little shards of glass as he cried.
Thankfully no one would see him like this--how weak of a commander he’d be.
Men don’t cry at words.
Thunder boomed and flashes of light from the storm were visible through the arrow slits.
In control once more, he slumped on his bed—and noticed pink sheets. A pink comforter. A doll.
This room was different.
Olivia had changed things for a girl. Why? His mind settled fast that she must have friends who stayed over with children often enough to decorate the room differently.
Not that it mattered. He’d given up boyhood long ago. Whatever child stayed here in the future could have the closet with the hiding spots too.
He quickly read the letter and saw his sister’s name and a note from their mother. Olivia would want to read this.
He’d almost forgotten as he’d blocked everything out.
He was practically calm when the door burst open and his sweet Clara and smart sister Olivia stepped inside. Olivia had her hand on her hip as she asked, “You hid the key all this time?”
Now it was time to leave this child’s room and become an adult. “I was a boy and then… I blocked everything out to avoid this. I’m sorry.”
Clara must never see how horrible he was inside.
Olivia crossed her arms and said, “I… I want to read this in the library.”
“Why?” Clara asked.
His heart stilled, but Olivia said, “I work there all the time.”
The scene of the crime wasn’t his ideal spot for revelations but he agreed
anyway. “Okay.”
They headed out and Olivia breathed easier as she directed them to the library. He held the white envelope in the air. Their mother had probably dictated her dying words in this very room--he slipped the envelope into Olivia’s hands. “Did Clara tell you about Max?”
Olivia shook the envelope. “I have no idea why he’s here, except to cause trouble.”
His sister removed the paper and stared at the words. Astorre said, “I thought before you left, you’d like to read what Mom wrote.”
Olivia had tears in her eyes and she pushed the paper away, like she might ruin the words by crying on them. She asked, “Mom?”
Astorre slid one arm around Clara's waist, so they stood side-by-side. He shouldn’t touch her. She didn’t deserve to have her life in his weak hands. One day he might go crazy too, but for this second he needed her calm. He said without emotion, “Yes. That’s it in your hands, the letter.”
Olivia covered her lips but they all heard her slight weep. “Did you read this already?”
“As a boy, only once and I hid it away to avoid the truth. I should have given it to you then. I didn’t know you thought it was lost until we came back.” If she read aloud the whole thing, he’d dissolve into nothing. Part of him wished the outside storm would just sweep him into the bay. His voice cracked as he said, “It’s about you too, in the second half.”
Olivia sounded like their mother as she read out loud the part he'd mentioned, “My darling Astorre, the doctors said you and Olivia are both fine. I’m happy. I wish things had been different but neither one of you should ever blame yourselves. I want you both to find love, get married and always read to your children as I read to you. I love you both.”
Olivia dropped the paper and cried into the wall.
Her sobs made his chest ache too and he went to her side and hugged her. She let him and sunk into his shoulder.
Clara shouldn’t see him break down. She deserved better, so he widened his stance to keep from crying again; not here, not now. “You have her voice, y’know.”
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