That wasn’t true for Clara, even if she’d thought her days of being unfortunate were over. She paced the room. “I like that there are things for me to do around here so I won’t be useless, but I’ve never been very good at family drama stuff.”
“That’s because your grandmother was awful.”
Even the ends of her hair felt super sensitive right now. Clara backed up to the wall and leaned back. “She wasn’t… she didn’t like me but she wasn’t awful. She let me stay with her. She just never cared.”
Rossie made a dismissive sound and followed it with, “Look, if someone went after me, you'd have my back, right?”
“Yes, of course,” Clara answered--no one would hurt her friend on her watch.
Rossie was the only one who’d ever even tried to look out for her, like when she'd tried to give her that successful wedding business she’d built a few weeks ago.
“Then treat Astorre and his family the same. You're his wife now and a good person. Don’t stress about drama because you have a heart that’s worth its weight in gold. Now tell me specifics, like what happened?”
Rossie always figured everything out. Clara trusted her and honestly she was the one with her head on straight right now. Clara glanced behind her like she’d be caught gossiping, which was silly. “Astorre’s sister had a baby.”
“Why is that bad?”
Her cheeks heated. If she ever had a baby she wouldn't want to be judged either so she said, “It’s not. It’s just she didn’t tell either the father of the child, or her brother, about her daughter.”
Rossie observed, “That must have been hard on Astorre. Do you need anything?”
How to reach her husband, she thought, but asking seemed wrong. She shrugged. “No, I just wish I knew what to do.”
“Listen to your heart,” Rossie said. “And don’t think no one cares because of your Grandmother May. She was wrong to ignore you.”
Yes. Right as always but that was why people trusted her implicitly. Rossie was in touch with her feelings in a way Clara was not. Tension stung her neck. “Thank you. See you soon, okay?”
Rossie said, “Absolutely. Bye.”
She hung up and paced the bedroom. Rossie had been right about listening to her heart, probably, but that only worked if her adrenaline wasn’t in the way. She needed to be calm.
She rubbed the goosebumps on her arm, wondering what she’d done to Astorre for him to pull away.
Why did her heart, mind, and body seem so out of whack?
The door opened and she stopped moving--cold sweat rose on her back. She wasn't ready to argue or fight. She wasn’t ready to lose him. She perked up anyhow as Astorre’s arm and then his handsome face appeared. “Clara, there you are.”
But he'd sent her away because he didn't want to see her. Her insides trembled but she hoped outside she was calm. “Where else would I go? I don’t know the castle very well yet and I wanted to give you space.”
He closed the door behind him. “You shouldn’t lock yourself away. It’s better to learn for yourself all the nooks and crannies of the old castle.”
So why darken the room? Her breaths came faster. She hoped she didn’t make his day worse as she hugged herself and asked, “Astorre, why did you need to be alone? Your sister having a child really isn’t something to hide from.”
He touched her, and her body was on edge as he traced her upper arms and elbows. “That's not it. Clara…”
His lips came toward her and she lowered her arms to hold him, ready if he kissed her. “Yes?”
Every cell in her body grew in awareness as he said, “You should want to be far away from me.”
Her eyes widened and she met his brown hues filled with mystery. “That’s impossible. I love you.”
He backed up. “Don’t say that anymore.”
“It’s the truth.” She balled her hands into fists. This wasn’t good and her heart hammered in her chest. He saw something wrong in her, and she'd ruined everything with him too.
His shoulders were tight and his expression brooding as he said, “In time that will die.”
Facts were facts. She'd never been a loveable person. Her heart fell to her stomach, but this was a fact she understood. She’d hidden for years. This was just one more fence around her heart she’d have to erect before he saw how much she'd been hurt.
She turned away to face the door and the bed, where she’d school her expression and ensure no one saw her cry. She glanced over her shoulder and asked, “Astorre, are you ready to meet your niece?”
He crossed his arms and stepped toward her. “No. I heard you on the phone.”
Speaker hadn’t been a good plan, but she’d never lived any place where anyone cared what she said, before here. Her gut twisted as her eyebrow shot up. “Yeah?”
He reached for her again. “Your grandmother was foolish if she didn’t see how valuable you are.”
She trembled and cleared her throat. If he saw her reaction then he would know her weakness. “She… I don’t like talking about Grandma May.”
Astorre made an O with his thumb on her arm as he massaged her. She stopped shivering, until he said, “You’ll never be poor again, Clara. You can go back to your own estate, or take the money you've inherited and travel.”
Money didn’t make her loveable to anyone, except for sharks that wanted cash. Like Max. She lowered her head and heard the wistfulness as she said, “I wanted to go with you.”
He pressed his forehead to hers. “I might never be free to move from here again, not if I take my duties seriously.”
He wasn't asking her to stay. She licked her lips and tried to overcome her wounds from childhood to give him an out. “I’m not sure I’ll be a good lady of a manor, to be honest.”
He ran his hand through her hair. “You’re smart and savvy. You proved that today.”
Her body blossomed from his touch. Her lips tingled for him to kiss her, but that was stupid. It wasn’t going to happen. “I’ve seen enough reality TV to understand baby daddy drama I’m not involved in.”
His mouth claimed hers and she was a puddle of emotion that allowed him to touch her anywhere he wanted. He directed her backward, toward the bed, but as the kiss ended, he said, “I shouldn’t do this to you.”
Even if he didn’t love her, she could show him that she loved him. She went on her tiptoes to be closer to his lips again as she said, “I want you, Astorre. That’s never been our problem.”
He lowered his head and his lips were a fraction away from her throbbing mouth when he asked, “Even if you know love can never exist?”
Tomorrow she’d figure out what to do next. For now she wrapped her arms around his neck and said, “Let’s stop talking.”
He must have agreed. He reached for her clothes and she let him do whatever he wanted to her. Her friend took hours to get ready so there was plenty of time. She loved him and trusted him. Even if she couldn’t make him love her back, she could show him one more time.
Chapter 15
Astorre Mandredi understood Clara was too good for him and he’d hurt her if she stayed close. And if she stayed, he’d continue to act like an animal in heat instead of the gentleman she deserved. If he was honest with himself, she needed to arm herself against her emotions better.
He heard the shower in the adjoining bathroom go off and sat up in bed, grabbing his pants.
He shouldn’t have taken her again. If he was stronger, he’d have sent her packing.
The fog outside the arrow slits made it impossible to tell the time, but his grumbling stomach made him assume it was lunch.
She came out dressed in white pants and an olive green shirt, as if happy to wear the family colors, but her cheeks seemed sallow. She wasn’t happy, and this was only the beginning of his ruin of her.
If she stayed, she’d drive him crazy with talk of love he might reciprocate, but if he lost control, then the day would come where he too would find a gun.
Violence was always
in his soul even if he kept it in strict check. The urges never left when confronted. He shook his head at his angel and said, “Clara, you’re too good for me.”
Her face went white. “I’m not…” But then someone knocked. She wiped a tear from her eye and said, “I’ll get it.”
She spoke to the servant with kindness and thanked them, then closed the door. His heart thumped in his chest. “What is it?”
She read the small letter and then handed it to him. “Your sister is waiting for us to meet Sophia, your niece.”
Yes. Lunch would be served on the balcony. Fitting even in the fog, which drowned out the sun almost every day here.
He grabbed clean clothes and headed into the bathroom. A few splashes of water revived him, though the pit in his stomach was all twisted like he needed to tell Clara to leave now.
He entered their bedroom and saw Clara wearing a simple gold cross necklace. He glanced at it and his heart froze. That had been his mother’s cross. “Where did you get that necklace?”
Her face turned pink as she pointed backward. “In the jewelry box in the closet, next to the clothes. Is it important?”
He traced the gold cross at her neck as a memory of his mother reading a story to him about a flying dragon who lost his teddy bear surfaced. She’d had on a soft purple and green striped nightgown and that necklace. “My mother once wore that.”
She reached behind her neck for the clasp. “I’ll take it off.”
He took her hands. “No. It’s yours. Keep it.”
She tried to take it off again as she said, “I’m sure your sister wants it.”
He stopped her. Clara was innocent and good and she should wear this and more. “If she did, Olivia would have kept it--it's for you.”
She didn’t pull her hands away as her lips pushed out. “Okay. I should have asked first.”
Her cheeks blushed but she let him guide her toward the door. It was time to meet another innocent, this time a small girl. “Don’t worry about it. Let’s get going.”
She untangled herself halfway and held up a finger. “I just need one minute.”
Her eyes seemed glassy to him. “You’re dressed, though.”
She turned away and rushed into the bathroom wiping her cheeks as she said, “One minute.”
The necklace wasn’t something to cry over. His skin felt electric as adrenaline coursed through him. If he'd made her cry because he'd used her… it was clear that when he was pushed too far, he’d be horrible for her. When she came out, he crossed his arms. “Clara, I can’t promise more… than what we have already.”
She nodded and her face was dry, though pale. “I’m good now; let’s go see your sister.”
He didn’t move a muscle as he asked, “You didn’t cry?”
She made a mocking laugh like he must be wrong when they both knew he wasn’t and then she said, “I… I don’t cry. Let’s go meet your niece. You must be excited.”
Right. He offered his arm and said, “I wish my sister had trusted me but at least I can help her now.”
He slowed down near the door and lowered his voice to tell her again that she should leave to her own estate but then she said, “If there is anything I can do to help you…”
“You…” Every part of him wanted to tell her to run away from him, but he enjoyed her too much. And despite that knowledge, he didn’t want her to go. "I'm ready."
If he stayed in control at all times, maybe he could keep her as his own.
The whisper of unstoppable violence in his heart was there, but was that fair to her?
Clara deserved to be happy. Olivia had been a proper lady of the manor.
Coming home instead of accepting his banishment as permanent might have been his biggest mistake.
They went to the great hall where oil paintings of his ancestors and tapestries of ancient deeds defending Avce and the Holy Roman Empire were being put on display.
It seemed his people wanted to celebrate their history now that he was home--his father would never be mentioned.
No one dared to bring it up though he’d never forget it.
Outside the fog was thick but the candles on the table for ambiance while they sat on the balcony helped them see each other. He held Clara’s chair for her.
A pretty brunette with dark eyes sat with her hands folded politely on the table. She appeared about ten which made sense.
To keep this place, if he let it go, Olivia would have two years to ensure her daughter inherited, if she married to continue the line. If he’d known about Sophia, he’d have inquired on how to leave everything to her as an official heir. The girl, in pink pants and a green shirt, her dark hair in a ponytail, was a mini version of Olivia. He greeted his sister, noting her black dress. “Olivia.” He sat down.
Clara immediately smiled and asked, “Is this Sophia?”
The girl beamed at Clara like she was a princess herself and said, “Nice to meet you.”
Clara nodded. “Nice to meet you, too.”
Sophia stared at him for a few moments, and he stayed still to let her arrive at her own conclusion of her uncle. “Mom said you looked like a monster but were good inside, like the Beast in Beauty and the Beast.”
Olivia had seen the truth in him and warned her daughter. It wasn’t hidden as well as he'd thought. And if that was true, no one was safe. He placed his hand on his chest. “I look like a monster?”
“No. Our father was a monster.” Olivia shook her head no and her face was white. “And you look like our father. Sophia put that together wrong, but I shouldn’t have said that--it was years ago, and I had no idea Sophia even remembered me talking about… him.”
That only meant the scarred destroyer of happiness inside him was visible than he wanted. “It’s apt. Sophia, do you enjoy living here with your mom?”
Sophia nodded as the staff served the pasta. “This is our home. Do we have to run away? You seem nice.”
If his niece considered this her home, then she’d defend it with honor and never want to leave. In the end, if Olivia was against marriage like he'd been, and he annulled his marriage to Clara, perhaps they could ensure Sophia was next in line before they were both banished. He picked up his fork to eat. “No, you and your mom can stay if that’s what she wants. No one resides in the dower tower…”
His sister said, “My time is coming up soon which means… I just wanted to show Sophia more of the world and then we can come back home.”
He'd been so focused on his own banishment that he’d never once asked his sister’s plans for what happened when she turned thirty.
Olivia was beautiful and smart and a good mom. She’d have lots of suitors if she let men in.
Sophia asked, “So like a vacation, and not forever and ever?”
He stared at his sister and she pushed her hair behind her ear. It was her tell that she'd lied as a girl. “Yes, but an extended one.”
Or, she intended banishment.
He’d have to stay and ensure that the little girl could come home to inherit, but he’d also have to make sure that Clara was safe from him too. He ate in silence as did everyone, until Sophia asked, “But not like Uncle Astorre, who I just met because his vacation took a long time?”
Olivia put her fork down and asked, “Is there a reason you want to come back?”
Sophia bounced her pretty head like she was memorizing everyone and said, “I promised my friends I’d be part of the superhero team to protect the castle.”
Already she was ahead of them at taking up the family cause. He told his niece, “Then you’ll be wanted here.” Astorre jumped out of his seat before anyone might bring a second course. “Clara, Olivia, I need to be excused.”
Clara put her fork and napkin down though her meal wasn’t quite finished and said, “Wait, I’m coming.”
No. She needed to be safe. If he stayed and there were no other options, she needed to leave him. Now. He cared too much already. And it was the only way to protect her.
Everything. He guided her into the nearest drawing room so no one heard them. Once the old door was closed, he said, “I need to take control of my life.”
She straightened her blouse. “That’s what you’ve been doing. And I’m okay staying here, with you.”
With her plan, she’d always be in danger and his pulse raced. He’d end up exactly like his father, unable to live with guilt and put a bullet in his own head. “No, that’s not what I meant.”
Her face crumbled and his skin burned like he'd stepped in fire, but he needed her to go now. She needed to be safe. “What do you mean?”
How did she not see? If he lost control, he’d destroy her. He widened his stance because he needed to hold himself together. “It’s time for you to go. Go live in your home. Take my sister and her daughter with you.”
Her gaze locked with his and at least she didn’t cry as she asked calmly, “Take them too? Why are you sending us all away?”
Her gaze bore into his soul like laser beams. He pivoted toward an arrow slit. “Because I never should have married you or brought you here. It’s not safe for you.”
She said in her soft, sweet voice, “I’m safe, with you.”
No. His heart beat a mile a minute and no amount of gasoline in an engine might get him to go any faster right now. He shook his head and held onto the wall as if he could keep the castle together himself. “Then you’re a fool, and we both know you’re not. You have a crush on me because I stole your virginity, but that’s not a good enough reason to claim love.”
“What?” She tapped her foot on the ground.
He turned around and rubbed at the tension in his neck. “You don’t have to love the first man that touches you. That’s some sixteenth century myth from when women were treated as property.”
Her nose crinkled. “That’s not why.”
Astorre swallowed and wished she had some magic answer where he didn’t need to let go of her when he asked, “What do you know about me that you can possibly love?”
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