She had made a couple of girlfriends at the hotel but none of them were particularly close. Besides, they had been on temporary visas and would have moved on by now. It seemed the only way to find out her past was piece by piece, like putting a complicated jigsaw puzzle back together without the original picture as a guide.
Emelia rode back to the villa and handed Callida over to Pedro, who had very obviously been hovering about, waiting for her return. He took the mare with visible relief and reluctantly agreed on having the horse ready for another ride at the same time tomorrow.
When Emelia came downstairs after a shower she was informed by Aldana she had a visitor.
‘She is waiting in la sala,’ the housekeeper said with a frosty look.
‘Gracias, Aldana,’ Emelia said. ‘But who is it? Someone I should know?’
Aldana pursed her lips but, before she could respond, female footsteps click-clacked from behind Emelia and a young voice called out, ‘So you are back.’
Emelia turned to see a young female version of Javier stalking haughtily towards her. The young woman’s dark-as-night eyes were flashing, her mouth was a thin line of disapproval and her long raven hair practically bristled with anger. ‘Izabella?’
The young woman’s eyes narrowed to paper-thin slits. ‘So you remember me, do you? How very interesting.’
Emelia took a steadying breath. ‘It was a guess, but apparently a very good one.’
Izabella planted her hands on her boyishly slim hips, sending Emelia another wish-you-were-dead glare. ‘You shouldn’t be here. You have no right to be here after what you did.’
Emelia marshalled her defences, keeping her tone civil but determined. ‘I’m not sure what I am supposedly guilty of doing. Perhaps you could enlighten me.’
Izabella tossed her glossy dark head. ‘Don’t play the innocent with me. It might have worked with my brother but it won’t work with me. I know what you are up to.’
Emelia was conscious of the housekeeper listening to every word. ‘Would you like to come into la sala and discuss this further?’ she asked.
Izabella gave another flash of her midnight eyes. ‘I don’t care who hears what I have to say.’
‘Does your brother know you are here?’ Emelia asked after a tense pause.
The young woman’s haughty stance slipped a notch. ‘He is not my keeper,’ she said, making a moue of her mouth.
‘That’s not what he told me,’ Emelia returned.
Izabella gave her head another toss as she folded her arms across her chest. ‘He wouldn’t have taken you back, you know. He only did it because he had no choice. The press would have crucified him if he’d divorced you so soon after the accident.’
Emelia felt as if a heavy weight had landed on her chest. She felt faint and had to struggle to remain steady on her feet. She would have excused herself but her desire to know more about her forgotten marriage overruled any concern for her well-being. ‘Wh-what are you saying?’
‘He was going to divorce you,’ Izabella said with an aristocratic hoist of her chin. ‘He had already contacted his lawyer.’
Emelia moistened her lips. ‘On…on what grounds?’
Izabella’s gaze was pure venom. ‘Adultery.’ She almost spat the word at Emelia. ‘You ran away to be with your lover.’
Emelia stood in a frozen silence as she mentally replayed every conversation she’d had with Javier since she had woken in the hospital. While he hadn’t accused her of anything openly, he had alluded to what the press had made of her relationship with Peter. He had also expressed his bitterness at her remembering Peter while not remembering him, which she had thought was a reasonable reaction under the circumstances. But if Javier truly believed her to have been unfaithful, what was he waiting for? Why not divorce her and be done with it? Did he really care what the press would make of it? What did he hope to gain by taking her back as if nothing had happened? It didn’t make sense, not unless he loved her and was prepared to leave the past in the past, but somehow she didn’t think that was the case. He desired her. She was acutely aware of the heat of his gaze every time it rested on her, indeed as aware of her own response to him. She was not immune to him, in spite of her memory loss. One kiss had shown how vulnerable she was to him.
‘But it’s not true,’ she said after a moment. ‘I didn’t commit adultery.’
Izabella rolled her eyes. ‘Of course you would say that. Your lover is dead, so what else could you do? You had to come back to Javier. He is rich and you had nowhere else to go. Even your own father would not take you back. You are nothing but a gold-digger.’
Emelia felt ill but worked hard to hold her composure. ‘Look, Izabella, I realise you must be upset if you have heard rumours such as the outrageous one you just relayed to me, but I can assure you I have never been unfaithful to your brother. It’s just not something I would do. I know it in my heart.’
Izabella gave her a challenging glare. ‘How would you know? You say you don’t remember anything from the past two years. How do you know what you did?’
It was a very good point, Emelia had to admit. But, deep down, she knew she would never have betrayed her marriage vows. How she was going to prove it was something she had yet to work out. Her reputation had been ruined by scandalous reports in the media. Who would believe her, even if she could remember what had happened that fateful day?
‘Did you ever love my brother?’ Izabella asked.
The question momentarily knocked Emelia off course. She looked at the young woman blankly, knowing as each pulsing second passed another layer of blame was being shovelled on top of her. ‘I…I don’t feel it is anyone’s business but Javier’s and mine,’ she said.
Izabella gave a scathing snort. ‘You never loved him. What you love is what he can give you—the lifestyle, the clothes, the jewellery. It’s all you have ever wanted from him.’
‘That is not true.’ Please don’t let it be true, Emelia thought.
‘He is not going to remain faithful to you, you know. Why should he when you played up behind his back?’
Emelia felt a stake go through her middle. It surprised her how much Izabella’s coolly delivered statement hurt her. Her mind filled with images of Javier with other women, his body locked with theirs, giving and receiving pleasure. Perhaps even now he was entertaining himself with some gorgeous creature in Moscow. She shook her head, trying to get the torturous images to disappear. ‘No,’ she said in a rasping whisper. ‘No…’
‘He should never have married you,’ Izabella said. ‘Everyone told him it would end in disaster.’
Emelia lifted her aching head to meet Izabella’s gaze. ‘Why did he marry me, then?’
‘Because he needed to be married to gain access to our father’s estate,’ Izabella said.
Emelia felt her heart give another sickening lurch. ‘He married me to…to get money?’
‘You surely don’t think he loved you, do you?’ Izabella threw her a disdainful look. ‘He wanted you and what he wants he usually gets. You were a convenient wife. A trophy he wanted by his side. But that is all you are to him. He does not love you.’
‘Did I know this?’ Emelia asked in a hoarse whisper.
Izabella’s expression lost some of its hauteur. ‘I am not sure…’ She bit down on her bottom lip in a way that seemed to strip years off her. ‘Perhaps not. Maybe I shouldn’t have said anything…’
Emelia reached for something to hold