She changed quickly into her uniform and then, with her heart fluttering in her chest and her breath coming too shallow and too fast, she crossed the monastery grounds.
Antonietta was usually a full fifteen minutes early for work, but so shaken was she by the morning’s events that she got there only just in time.
‘There you are!’ Francesca said by way of greeting. ‘Signor Dupont has requested that his suite be serviced at midday, when he is out.’
Antonietta nodded and made her way up to the suite. After knocking and getting no answer, she let herself in. There was the scent of him in the air, but not his presence, and she was relieved to be alone and not have to make small talk. She set to work, ticking things off her list, trying to banish all thoughts of this morning.
Except Antonietta could not.
As she smoothed the sheets on the bed all she could see was the sight of her parents, crossing the street to avoid her. She plumped the pillow but found she was crushing it between her hands as the tears started to come thick and fast.
And they were angry tears!
She had come here to make amends.
To say sorry to her parents for not marrying a man who had treated her less than gently. A man who had tried to force her to do that more than once.
She had held on to her anger for so long, but it was more than seeping out now, and she buried her face in the pillow and let out a muffled scream.
‘Agh!’
It felt good.
So good that she did it again.
‘Agh!’
And again.
That was how Rafe found her.
He had finally gone for a run—in part to avoid her, for such was his cabin fever that he was getting a little too interested in a certain maid.
And that would never do.
However, he had not been for a run since his accident, and his endurance was not quite what it had been. He would soon get it back, he told himself, and the next run would be longer.
He made his way up the stone stairs to the private beach entrance of the balcony.
And then he saw her shouting into a pillow.
Rafe did not get involved with the dramas of maids.
Ever.
But when she stopped shouting into the pillow and sobbed into it instead, something twisted inside him even though generally tears did not move him.
She was not crying for an audience; he was aware that he was witnessing something private that she would rather no one saw.
Indeed, Antonietta was mortified when she removed the pillow and saw Rafe.
He was breathing heavily from running, and he looked displeased.
‘I apologise,’ Antonietta said immediately, for an esteemed guest did not need anything other than quiet efficiency. She wiped her cheeks with her hands and started to peel off the pillowcase as her words tumbled out. ‘I thought you were out.’
‘It’s fine.’ Rafe shrugged.
‘I ran into my parents…’ She attempted to explain. ‘They crossed the street to avoid me.’
‘I see.’ Rafe tried to remain unmoved. No, he did not get involved with the dramas of maids.
‘I can send someone else up…’ Antonietta hiccoughed, frantically trying to regain control. Except her tears would not stop.
‘There’s no need for that,’ Rafe said. ‘Carry on.’
‘But, as you can see, I can’t stop crying…’
‘I said,’ Rafe snapped, ‘carry on.’
And though she did carry on with her work, she found that the tears carried on too, and the anger did not abate.
No pillow was left unthumped!
He ignored her.
Well, not quite. At one point, when anger gave way to sorrow, he gave a slight roll of his eyes and handed his weeping maid a handkerchief.
She carried on with her work.
She just dribbled tears, and she was so grateful for his lack of words, that there was no attempt at comfort, for there was nothing he could say.
She would never have her family back. Of that Antonietta was certain. And it was there in the August Suite that she finally mourned them. Oh, there was no howling. Antonietta just quietly let the tears roll.
Rafe did not involve himself.
He would have liked to have a shower, given he had just been for a run, except he did not want to have a shower while the weeping maid was here.
Of course he could dismiss her.
And yet he did not.
Instead Rafe stood on the balcony and looked out towards the temple ruins, wondering about his teary maid.
He recalled the slight triumph he had felt when she’d smiled, and he found he would like her to smile again.
In turn, she liked the silence he gave her. It did not feel as if she was crying alone, as she had done so many times. And neither did she feel patronised, for there had been no there, there or invasive questions.
He let her be, and finally she was done with both her work and her tears.
Every last thing on her list was ticked off and Antonietta felt surprisingly calm as she gathered her things and finally addressed Rafe. ‘I am finished.’
‘Perhaps before you go down you should go and splash your face with cold water…take a moment.’
She did as she was told, appalled to see her swollen eyes and red nose, but she appreciated the opportunity to calm down, and retied her hair before heading out.
‘If you need anything else, please page me.’
‘I shan’t,’ Rafe said, but then he reconsidered, for Antonietta really was proving to be the brightest part of his day… But, no, he would not make up reasons to call her. ‘Are you working tomorrow?’
‘Just a half-day,’ Antonietta said. ‘Then I have a day off.’
‘Well, I might see you tomorrow, then?’
He hoped so.
So did she.
‘Thank you,’ Antonietta said as she turned to leave, instead of the other way around.
‘No problem.’
Except there clearly was.
‘Antonietta.’
He called her name as she headed for the door. And his summons hit her deep and low, and the word felt like a hand coming down on her shoulder. How could the sound of her own name make her tremble and feel almost scared to turn around?
Or rather nervous to turn around.
Slowly she did turn, and she knew in that second that she was not scared or even nervous to face him. She was fighting her own desire.
In the room behind him she could see the vast bed, and she wanted to lie with him on white sheets that smelt of summer. To know the bliss not just of a man, but of him.
Rafe.
Whoever he was.
‘Yes?’