But then it was a long time, as Assunta had told her, the brown eyes suddenly a little anxious, since Vostranto had a mistress.
They’re all going to be so disappointed in me, Ellie thought, as she returned downstairs to the unsmiling young man who was about to reluctantly bestow all this grandeur upon her.
She thought he’d be waiting for her in the salotto, glancing impatiently at his watch, but the room was deserted and she stood for a moment quite alone, relishing the quiet, reminding herself that this was how life was going to be for the foreseeable future, but also that she was used to it—accustomed, most of the time, to her own company both at her apartment and the
Casa Bianca—so that shouldn’t, wouldn’t be a problem. That really it was what she preferred.
And even as that thought took shape in her mind, everything seemed to change, as if, for a moment, this room into which she’d walked as a stranger only an hour or two before had become suddenly familiar and somehow—enfolded her.
So that when Angelo strode in from the terrace a few minutes later, looking preoccupied and asking if she was ready to leave, she agreed quietly and calmly, knowing that, when the time came, she would be even more contented to return. And that at least part of her life as the Contessa Manzini, while far from perfect, would at least be endurable.
But not all the issues within the marriage were going to be as easy to deal with. There was, for instance, the vexed question of her employment.
‘My wife,’ Angelo told her icily when she’d asked how soon after the wedding she could return to Avortino, ‘does not work.’
Ellie gasped indignantly. ‘But that’s ludicrous,’ she protested. ‘Just what am I supposed to do all day—sit around twiddling my thumbs? Thank you, signore, but no thanks. I love my job, I’m good at it, and I’ve promised my boss that I’ll be back at my desk—pronto.’
‘Then you should have consulted me first, when I would have told you it was out of the question.’ His expression was like stone. ‘The matter is closed.’
‘Like hell it is.’ Her voice shook. ‘I’ve agreed, much against my will and better judgement, to this pretence of a marriage. A little compromise on your part might be good.’
His lips tightened. ‘If you think I am being unreasonable, Elena, consider the practical difficulties. Travelling into the city each day is only one of them.’
She lifted her chin. ‘I have a car.’ And I also had an apartment I could have used, she added silently, which you’ve made me get rid of, while keeping your own.
‘I have seen your car,’ Angelo said dismissively. ‘Old and unreliable. A potential death trap, which will have to be replaced.’
He paused. ‘But that changes nothing. You will have no time to spend at Avortino once you become the Contessa Manzini. Your predecessors have found that in itself a full-time job with a household to run. New duties to learn.’
‘Well I can’t speak for a long line of downtrodden women,’ Ellie returned with equal coldness. ‘But the household in question seems to have been managing perfectly well without either of us for some considerable time.’
‘But that will change once we are married,’ he said flatly. ‘I intend to use Vostranto far more, and you will have to accustom yourself to being the hostess when I entertain friends—business acquaintances. That, I think, will take time.’
In other words, Ellie thought, slashed by a pain as sharp as it was unexpected, I’m not up to the job. As if I needed any reminder.
She said quietly, ‘Then perhaps you should postpone your social whirl, Count Manzini, until I’ve gone back to the real world and you’ve acquired someone more suitable to welcome your guests.’ She paused. ‘I’m sure you’ll be spoiled for choice.’
There was a silence, then he said slowly, ‘Allow me to apologise. I did not intend how that must have sounded.’
Ellie looked past him, biting her lip. She said remotely, ‘It really doesn’t matter.’ And wished with all her heart that her statement were true.
But, she told herself in silent defiance, if he thought the question of Avortino had been settled, he was entirely wrong. When this so-called marriage was concluded, she would need to work, having no plans to accept the proposed settlement however generous.
When it’s over, I want it to be over, she thought. Which does not include being under any kind of obligation to him, legal, financial or otherwise.
However, she had not anticipated that Casa Bianca would prove yet another bone of contention.
The Principessa had mentioned it casually over dinner one night. ‘Your little seaside retreat, Elena. What will happen to that when you are married?’
Ellie hesitated, uncomfortably aware that Angelo, who had been talking to the Prince, had turned his head and was looking at her, brows raised in enquiry.
He said softly, ‘A retreat for a new wife. That sounds a little alarming, mia cara. Also unnecessary. What is this place, and where?’
Ellie met his gaze, concealing her unease at the challenge in his voice. ‘My grandmother left me a little cottage at the coast in a place called Porto Vecchio.’ She added coolly, ‘It’s only a small fishing village, and not a bit fashionable, so I don’t suppose you’ve heard of it.’
‘No, but I have learned of it now, and the fact that you own a house there, which I was also unaware of.’ He paused. ‘It must involve you in considerable expense. I therefore presume you will wish to sell it?’
‘On the contrary,’ said Ellie. ‘I have no intention of parting with it, although I may possibly rent it out in the holiday season.’ When hell freezes over.
Angelo inclined his head courteously. ‘All that is something we will naturally have to discuss.’
Ellie widened her eyes into a limpid stare. Allowed her voice a note of amusement. ‘But, mio caro, what is there to talk about, when my decision has already been made?’
Besides, she added silently, Roman dictators went out with Julius Caesar, or hadn’t you heard?
But the set of Angelo’s jaw as he turned his attention back to the plate of osso buco in front of him, coupled with a long, thoughtful look from Contessa Cosima, warned her that she had probably not heard the last on the subject.
However, there was no way she was giving up the cottage, she vowed inwardly, no matter what objections her reluctant husband might have to her possession of it. It was her own special place and it meant too much—held too many memories to be abandoned on his say-so.
Nonna Vittoria had left a sum of money to cover immediate maintenance costs and local taxes, but this, of course, would not last forever. And as Ellie had no intention of asking Count Manzini for a cent towards Casa Bianca’s upkeep, retaining her job and its salary was becoming even more essential, she thought grimly.
But lying sleepless that night, an idea came to her that could solve that particular problem, although its accomplishment would probably not sweeten Angelo’s temper.
On the other hand, there went a man far too used to getting his own way—especially with women. Maybe it was time he got his comeuppance, even in a minor way.
There was a room at Vostranto, not large but with good light, and not currently being used for very much, although there was a small kneehole desk under the window which, Ellie had been told, was where Count Angelo’s late mother had written her correspondence and overseen the household accounts.
But if her laptop was installed