‘No.’ Julia hunched her shoulders grumpily. ‘I forgot to tell you: Matt’s been married before.’
‘And he has a child?’
‘Well, she’s hardly a child,’ muttered Julia unwillingly. ‘She’s nineteen, I think. I’ve only met her once. She’s at college in Milan.’
Grace was stunned. ‘So he’s married!’
‘No, he’s a widower.’ Julia was growing increasingly irritable. ‘Do you think I’d be wasting my time if he was married to someone else?’
Grace shrugged. That point was moot. She had no wish to remind her friend that she had had a relationship with one of their married tutors in college. But she had the feeling that there was more to this relationship than Julia was telling her. Not least, how his daughter felt about her.
‘Well,’ she said now, trying to be positive, ‘that’s not a problem then. And if you and Matteo—Matt—are in love—’
‘If we are,’ said Julia, putting down her coffee again, and Grace wondered what she’d said to resurrect these doubts. ‘Okay, I know he cares about me. He wouldn’t want to go on seeing me otherwise. But as for us getting married—well, that’s a whole different ball game.’
Grace hesitated. ‘But it is what you want?’
‘Are you kidding?’ Julia blew out a breath. ‘Of course it’s what I want. But that doesn’t mean that Matt—well, it doesn’t mean that he’d be willing to fight his grandmother for the privilege.’
‘And you suspect he might have to?’
‘If this weekend was anything to go by, definitely.’ Julia snorted. ‘I think she made it blatantly clear that I’m not the woman she wants for Matt.’
Grace sighed. ‘Because she didn’t speak any English?’ She shook her head. ‘Isn’t that a tiny bit negative? Perhaps she was trying to find out how committed you are to becoming an Italian yourself.’
‘It wasn’t just the fact that she didn’t speak any English,’ insisted Julia impatiently. ‘For God’s sake, she hardly spoke to me at all. And she made sure that I was given a room about half a mile away from Matt’s apartments. The di Falco villa is huge, you see. I even had a problem finding my way back to the drawing room before dinner.’
‘Even so—’
‘Even so, nothing.’ Julia shook her head. ‘She knew very well that I’d expected to share Matt’s apartments. I don’t know what century she’s living in, but she behaved as if our relationship didn’t mean a thing.’
Grace sighed. ‘You know what old people are like—’
‘I know what she’s like,’ agreed Julia bitterly. ‘She’ll do anything she can to split us up.’
‘You don’t know that.’
‘Don’t I?’ Julia regarded her with accusing eyes. ‘What if I tell you that I wasn’t the only guest at the villa this weekend?’
‘Well...’
‘It was the first time I’d had the opportunity to visit Matt’s home,’ went on Julia resentfully. ‘I thought it was just going to be a family occasion, but when we arrived all these other people were there.’
‘Well,’ began Grace again, ‘perhaps she thought it would make things easier for you. Did you ask Matteo about it? Perhaps it was his idea.’
‘It wasn’t.’ Julia spoke flatly. ‘He knew nothing about it until we got there. But the real sickener was that the old lady had invited this woman, Caterina Vincenzi. A contessa, no less, and fairly obviously the woman the marchesa would like to see as the next Signora di Falco.’
‘Oh, Julia, did she honestly tell you that?’
‘She didn’t have to.’ Julia’s lips twisted. ‘There must have been more than a dozen guests at dinner yesterday evening and she was the one who was seated beside Matt. I was tucked away at the end of the table with some old uncle. God, he was disgusting! He slobbered all over his food.’
‘Julia!’
‘He did.’ Julia was indignant. But then, when Grace continued to look at her with wide, disbelieving eyes, she gave a shrug. ‘Well, he made plenty of noise,’ she said defensively. ‘You don’t know what it was like, Grace. You weren’t there.’
‘No.’
Grace conceded that point, and as if realising she was becoming far too agitated Julia took a breath. ‘I’m sorry,’ she muttered. ‘It’s not your fault that the old witch lives in the past. Anyway—’ Julia’s eyes glittersed ‘—I intend to drag her—kicking and screaming, if necessary—into the present. We’ll see who has the last laugh when I spring my surprise on her.’
Grace stared at her friend. ‘Your surprise?’ she echoed, wondering why she felt such a sense of apprehension suddenly, and Julia flung herself back against the cushions of the sofa.
‘When she finds out I’m having Matt’s baby, of course,’ she declared triumphantly. ‘She won’t be able to dismiss me so offhandedly when she discovers I’m having her precious grandson’s child.’
THE phone rang as Grace was going out of the apartment.
She was tempted to leave it. She was fairly sure the call wouldn’t be for her, and she’d made arrangements to go to Viareggio that morning. In the last couple of days, she’d become quite familiar with the buses that ran from Portofalco to the other resorts along the coast, and instead of going to the hassle of hiring a car she’d left the driving to someone else.
But the possibility that it could be one of her sisters calling about her mother compelled her to pick up the receiver. ‘Hello,’ she said, not yet used to using the Italian ciao, and then sank down somewhat weakly onto the arm of the sofa when Matteo di Falco’s disturbing voice spoke in her ear.
‘Miss Horton.’ He paused. ‘Grace.’ Her name had an unfamiliar resonance on his tongue. ‘I was hoping I might catch you.’
‘Were you?’
Grace knew she didn’t sound particularly friendly, but since Julia had dropped her bombshell about the baby she had found it even more difficult to think of Matteo di Falco without a feeling of distaste. She didn’t know how he could allow his grandmother to treat Julia so indifferently. But then, he didn’t know that in a few short months she was going to have his child.
‘Yes.’ Clearly, he had no such reservations. ‘I am coming to Portofalco this morning and I wondered if you’d allow me to buy you lunch?’
The gall of the man!
Grace was incensed, her own opinion of his sex reinforced by his behaviour. ‘I’m afraid I have other plans, signore,’ she informed him coldly. ‘Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a bus to catch.’
She would happily have put the receiver down there and then, but his sardonic, ‘A bus!’ had her fairly trembling with indignation.
‘Yes, a bus,’ she repeated crisply. ‘Or autobus, if you will. It’s a large motor vehicle with a wheel at each corner that delivers its passengers to various points along the coast!’
The breath he sucked in was plainly audible. ‘Yes, I know what an autobus is,’ he declared tautly, and Grace had the uneasy feeling that Julia was unlikely to approve of her insolence. ‘In that case, please do not let me detain you any longer.’
‘I won’t,’ muttered Grace resentfully, but it was under her breath, and by the