Lucy Gordon - The Italian Millionaire’s Marriage

‘But why? That shop should be a gold-mine. Your stock is first-rate. It’s true, you made a mistake about the necklace, but-’

‘I did not make-never mind. Sometimes I get on top of the figures, but then I see this really beautiful piece that I just have to have, and bang go all my calculations.’

‘Why not just sell up?’

‘Sell my shop? Never. It’s my life.’

He ran up a flag. ‘There’s more to life than antiques.’

She shot it down. ‘No, there isn’t.’

‘You seem very sure of that.’

‘It’s not just antiques, it’s-it’s the other worlds they open up. Vast horizons were you can see for thousands of years-’

She was away again. Recognising that it would be impossible to halt the flow until she was ready Marco settled for listening with the top part of his brain, while the rest considered her.

He’d grown more agreeably impressed as the evening wore on. She was an intriguing companion, intelligent, educated, even witty. It was a shame that she wasn’t beautiful-at least, he thought she probably wasn’t. It was hard to be sure when her hair shielded so much of her face. But her green eyes flashed fire when she spoke of the ‘other worlds’ that she loved, and in them was a kind of beauty.

Her lapses into gaucheness were hardly her fault. She’d been denied the chance to grow up in sophisticated society. A few trips to the discreetly luxurious shops on the Via dei Condotti would greatly improve her. He felt he had the basis for a deal that would be beneficial on both sides.

Harriet was bringing her passionate arguments to a conclusion. ‘You don’t think I’m crazy, do you?’ she asked anxiously.

‘You care passionately about your subject,’ he said. ‘That isn’t being crazy. It’s being lucky. So saving your shop means more to you than anything in the world, and perhaps I can help. How much would it take to extricate you from your difficulties?’

She named a large sum with the air of someone plunging into the deep end.

‘It’s a lot,’ Marco said wryly, ‘but not too much. I think we’re in a position to help each other. I can make you an interest-free loan that will solve your problems.’

‘But why should you?’

‘Because I want something in return.’

‘Naturally. But what?’

He hesitated. ‘You may find this suggestion a little unusual, but I’ve considered it carefully, and I assure you it makes sense for both of us. I want you to come to Rome with me, and be my mother’s guest for a while.’

‘Are you sure she’ll want that?’

‘She’ll be delighted. Your paternal grandmother was her dearest friend, and her hope is that our families can become united. In short, she’s trying to arrange my marriage.’

‘Who with?’ Harriet asked, not wanting to seem to understand too much too soon.

‘With you.’

She’d known that this moment was coming, but without warning she was embarrassed. Watching him sitting there in the corner, the candlelight on his face, he was suddenly too much; too forceful, too attractive, too like an irresistible gale storming through her life, flattening all before it. Too much .

‘Hey, hold on,’ she said, playing for time. ‘Things aren’t done like that these days.’

‘In some societies marriages are still arranged-or at least, half arranged. Suitable people are introduced and the benefits of an alliance considered. My parents’ marriage was created like this, and it was very happy. They were compatible, but not blinded by emotions too intense to last.’

‘And you’re asking me-?’

‘To think about it. The final decision can be taken later, when we know each other better. In the meantime I’ll sort out your financial problems. Should we make a match I’ll wipe the loan out. If not we’ll part friends, and you can repay me on easy terms.’

‘Whoa there! You’re going too fast. I can’t take this in.’ It was true. She’d thought herself well prepared, but everything was so different to her imaginings that it was taking her breath away.

‘You can’t lose. At the worst you get an interest-free loan that will save your shop.’

‘But what’s in it for you?’ she demanded bluntly. ‘You can’t get married just to please your mother.’

It seemed to her that he hesitated a fraction, then answered with a little constraint. ‘I can if that is what I wish . It’s time for me to have a settled life, with a family, and it suits me to arrange it in this way.’

‘It will give us both time to think,’ he went on. ‘You return with me, try out life in my country- your country, and consider whether you’d enjoy it permanently. If you and my mother get on well, we’ll discuss marriage.’

‘What about you and me getting on well?’

‘I hope we may, since we could hardly have a successful marriage otherwise. I’m sure you’ll be an excellent mother to our children, and after that you won’t find me unreasonable.’

‘Unreasonable about what?’ she asked, beginning to get glassy eyed.

‘Come, we’re not adolescents. We needn’t interfere with each other’s freedom as long as we’re discreet.’

She tried to study his face, but it was hard because his eyes were in shadow.

‘Don’t you mind doing it this way?’ she asked at last. ‘Don’t you have any feelings about it?’

‘There’s no need for us to discuss feelings,’ he said, suddenly distant.

‘But you’ve got everything planned like a business deal.’

‘Sometimes that can achieve optimum results.’

The cool precision of his tone sent a frisson of alarm through her. For the first time she understood the extent to which he’d banished human warmth from this plan, and it gave her a sense of unreality. Only a man who’d built fences around himself could act like this. She wondered how high the fences were, and why he needed them.

And what about your own fences? murmured an inner voice. You know they’re there. Brains are safe. Your head can’t hurt you like your heart can. Maybe you’re two of a kind, and he sensed it?

She quickly rejected the idea, but it lingered, troubling her, refusing to be totally dismissed.

Playing for time, she said, ‘If we married you’d expect me to come to live with you, right?’

He looked slightly startled. ‘That is the usual arrangement.’

‘But if I move to Rome I’ll lose the shop that I’m trying to save.’

‘You can leave your establishment here and have it run by a manager, or move it to Rome. You might even find it helpful to be there. I’m sure there’s a great deal you haven’t explored yet.’

He’d touched a nerve. Not meeting his eyes Harriet said, ‘I suppose you know everybody.’

‘Not quite everybody. But I know a lot of people who could be useful to you.’

He would know Baron Orazio Manelli, she thought. He’d probably been in the Palazzo Manelli, with its vast store of hidden treasures. Harriet had been writing to the Baron for two years now, seeking permission to study that Aladdin’s cave. And for two years he had barred her entry. But as Marco’s fiancée…

She bid the tempter be silent, but he whispered to her of bronze and gold, of ancient jewellery and historic sculptures.

‘A visit,’ she said. ‘With neither of us committed.’

‘That’s understood.’

‘We might simply decide it wouldn’t work.’

‘And part friends. But in the meantime my mother would have the pleasure of your company.’

Torn between conscience and temptation she stared at his face as though hoping to find the answer there. And then, against all odds, she did.

‘That’s it!’ she breathed. ‘Now I know where I’ve seen your face.’