The austere look returned. ‘I hope not indeed. But at the same time there is also no reason to delay.’ He glanced past her. ‘As I am sure your fidanzato will wish to assure you.’
Ellie turned apprehensively to see Angelo Manzini approaching unhurriedly down the path.
Prince Damiano patted her shoulder. ‘I will leave you together. But first—this.’ He reached out and picked a long-stemmed red rose from a nearby bush. ‘A flower for lovers,’ he said, handing it to her, then, bowing slightly, walked off towards the house.
She watched him go, almost in despair, then turned to face Angelo, her slim body rigid, her eyes blazing accusation.
‘You seem disturbed, mia bella,’ he commented coolly as he reached her.
‘I’ll say I’m disturbed,’ she said shakily. ‘This engagement is quite bad enough, but they seem to be planning our wedding as well. What the hell is going on?’ She drew a breath then added furiously, ‘And I’m neither yours, nor am I—beautiful.’
‘Not when you are glaring at me, perhaps. And your choice of clothing hardly does you justice either.’ He paused. ‘But you have possibilities, as I observed last night when you were wearing no clothes at all.’
For a moment she was lost for words, then she said chokingly, ‘How—how dare you?’
He shrugged. ‘You chose to turn on the lamp. And I am not blind.’
‘No,’ she said fiercely. ‘And you also have the power of speech, so go back to the house right now and tell them it’s all off. That I’ve turned you down.’
‘That would be foolish,’ he returned unmoved. ‘Particularly as we have the Prince’s approval—in addition to our other well-wishers.’
‘What do you mean?’ Ellie demanded huskily.
His smile did not reach his eyes. ‘Come, signorina. You cannot be that naïve. Or that stupid. You must know that Silvia is not the only conspirator at Largossa this weekend.’
She said, ‘And I tell you that I haven’t a clue what you’re talking about. Now will you do as I ask?’
‘No,’ he said. ‘Because it would solve nothing. Infatti, it would simply make matters infinitely worse. I have already explained to you why I need the Prince’s goodwill. Can you afford to have it withdrawn? You are fond of your madrina, I think. Do you really wish to be barred from her house and denied her affection? Because that would follow.
‘More than that,’ he added grimly. ‘How will you like being known as my discarded lover? Is that the kind of notoriety you desire? And do you truly want your cousin to enjoy her unpleasant victory and laugh at us both? Because I do not.’
‘But—marriage.’ She pronounced the word with something like revulsion.
‘Grazie,’ Angelo returned coldly. ‘However, I have no more wish than you to put my head in that noose. For the moment, there will be an engagement only.’ He paused. ‘But engagements can be easily broken. It happens every day. We have only to choose some convenient moment.’ His mouth curled. ‘And I will make certain that the fault is mine. Some flagrant act of infidelity, perhaps, to make the world think you have had a fortunate escape.’
Ellie took a breath. ‘Count Manzini, you have the morals of an alley cat.’
‘While you, signorina, have the tongue of a shrew. Shall we agree that we are neither of us perfect? Nel frattempo, in the meantime, I offer you this.’ He produced a small velvet-covered box from his pocket and opened it.
Ellie looked down at the square antique sapphire set amidst a blaze of diamonds and swallowed.
‘I—I can’t wear that.’
‘You are allergic to precious stones?’ He sounded mildly interested.
It would have been childishly rude to retort, ‘No, only to you,’ so she refrained.
‘I simply couldn’t accept anything as valuable,’ Ellie said, and frowned. ‘How come you’re carrying something that expensive around anyway?’
‘It belongs to my grandmother,’ he said. ‘She promised that when I planned to marry, she would allow me to choose a ring from her collection for my fidanzata. I picked this one.’
‘But you did not pick me,’ Ellie said. ‘And you have no plans to marry—anyone. As the Contessa knows perfectly well. So this is sheer hypocrisy.’
‘No,’ he said. ‘It is part of our agreement. Now give me your hand.’ He met her defiant eyes, and added, ‘Per favore.’
She stood in silent reluctance as he slid the ring over her knuckle. She wore little jewellery at the best of times and none at all on her hands, and it felt heavy—even alien.
She was still holding the rose that the Prince had given her, and its fragrance, exquisitely sweet and sensuous, drifted upwards in potent contrast to the bleakness of the moment.
‘Do you have any further instructions for me?’ she asked bitterly.
‘Instructions, no,’ he said. ‘But perhaps—a suggestion.’ And took her in his arms. For a moment, sheer astonishment held her still as his lips plundered hers in a hard, draining kiss without tenderness or, she recognised with shock, any real desire.
Then, as she began to resist, he let her go. He said softly, ‘Your mouth is the colour of that rose, mia bella. At last you look as if you know a lover’s touch. So, now let us do what we must.’
AFTERWARDS, IT WAS the faces she remembered. The Contessa, impassive; her godmother beaming but with anxious eyes; Signor Barzado trying to hide his astonishment and his wife her disappointment that a potential scandal had been overtaken and diluted by convention; the Cipriantos, astonished too but pleased.
And above all Silvia, seated beside her clearly bemused husband, her lips stretched in a smile, but her eyes burning with anger as Prince Damiano made the announcement with grave pleasure, and Angelo took Ellie’s hand, glowing with the blue fire of his sapphire, and raised it formally to his lips.
The lunch had been sumptuous, but she’d eaten like an automaton, hardly tasting a mouthful. Then there’d been the toasts to be got through, her mouth aching in an effort to smile and acknowledge the good wishes, whatever their level of sincerity.
Standing rigidly to receive Silvia’s air kiss on both cheeks, then watching her turn to Angelo with the husky murmur, ‘Congratulations, mio caro. How truly clever you are.’
Being lost for words as Ernesto, after wishing her joy without the slightest conviction in his voice, had said, ‘This is very sudden, Elena. I wasn’t aware you were even acquainted with Count Manzini.’
And discovering Angelo at her side, smiling as he replied, ‘But I have you to thank, Signor Alberoni. I saw her first at a dinner party at your house. Now—here we are.’
Later, feeling her face warm in a blush of sheer embarrassment as she again listened to Angelo courteously parrying the jovial demands to know when the happy day would be. Asking herself why she should be surprised, when talking himself out of dodgy situations was probably an everyday occurrence for him?
Now, at last, finding solitude in her room, with the shutters closed against the profound afternoon heat. And the door locked. An unnecessary but instinctive precaution. Because she was still trembling inside from the unexpected brush of Angelo’s