Christina Hollis - Claimed by the Italian

She sighed, withdrew her hand and laid it with the other in her lavender silk lap. ‘Then, just over a year ago, my son Antonio and his pregnant wife died in a car accident. Another dreadful blow. And Paolo, to my sorrow, seemed quite determined never to marry again.’ She shrugged her thin shoulders. ‘In a way I could understand his reluctance. He couldn’t trust his emotions, you see. Twice they’d let him down very badly. But of course he will have told you all this.’

With effort, Lily nodded, cringing inside. Another lie! Paolo wouldn’t confide in her, tell her anything personal. She was a mere employee, fit for carrying out his orders and nothing more. She could tell Fiora that it hadn’t been his emotions that had let him down because he didn’t have any—not real ones—except in respect of his adored mother. It was all down to a low boredom threshold, as Penny Fleming had explained. But she’d hold her tongue and let the old lady keep her fond illusions.

‘Apart from a mother’s natural wish to see her son happy and settled, I knew that if Paolo didn’t marry the ancient bloodline my Sergio was rightly so proud of would die out, and that was another great sadness to me. But—’ a smile broke through the miasma of sad memories ‘—he has found you, lost his heart and found a happy future. So, after a long and painful year I can look forward to the future with a sense of joy I had never expected to know again.’

It was the first Lily had heard of the tragedy, and Fiora’s year of hopeless depression. At last she could fully understand why Paolo, on hearing of his mother’s possibly fatal illness, had decided to lie. He would have been at his wits’ end, and must have seen announcing a fake engagement as the only way to give his adored mother a measure of happiness.

But fully empathising with him now didn’t make the deception any easier. It made it harder.

She was relieved when Fiora’s companion appeared, to chivvy the older woman into taking her morning rest.

‘To get your strength back you must rest often,’ Carla stated with a sideways smile for Lily, holding out a hand to help the older woman to her feet.

‘Lily and I were having an important conversation,’ Fiora objected with hauteur, waving aside the proffered hand. ‘And I can walk unaided! Leave us—I am not in the least tired.’

‘That is because you have behaved sensibly up to now and rested, as your consultant said you should,’ Carla countered levelly, and Lily hid a smile, wondering who would win this contest of wills. Her money was on Fiora!

She would have lost it, she recognised sickly, when Carla delivered the power punch. ‘You will need all your strength to plan for and attend the wedding you’re so excited about. Tire yourself and you will be fit for nothing!’

Fiora rose to her feet promptly at that remark, admitting, ‘For once you are quite right.’ The smile she gave Lily was pure mischief. ‘I will see you and Paolo at dinner this evening. I have something exciting to tell you both.’ And she allowed herself to be led away, grumbling, ‘Remember, Carla, that if you get to be too bossy you will go the way of the nurse!’

Her companion’s comfortable grin showed she knew the threat was hot air and bluster and certainly not meant.

As soon as the other two had entered the imposing villa Lily leapt to her feet, too wired to sit still one moment longer. Why was Paolo absent when she really needed him?

Her hands clenched into fists at her sides, she paced over to the stone balustrade and stared unseeingly out at the view over thickly wooded hillsides and fertile valleys. In her opinion Paolo was far too laid-back about the situation he had catapulted them into.

She had to make him understand that he must somehow put an end to talk of imminent wedding bells! Now . Right now! Before they found themselves even deeper enmeshed in Fiora’s plans!

She had tried on the occasion of her first meeting with his mother. Stressing her need to be home, working, because it was all hands on deck as far as the charity went.

To no avail.

So it was up to him. And since he wasn’t around, and she felt she’d go stir-crazy if she thought about it for one more moment, she’d have to do something to take her mind off it.

Turning on the heels of her supple leather courts, she headed smartly for the villa, slipping up to her room, settling on the side of the bed and picking up the phone. The nerve-racking situation made her feel as if she was fighting her way through dense clouds, no map to give her directions, and the best person to help her feel grounded again was her great-aunt.

Edith picked up on the second ring, her customary no-nonsense, ‘Yes, who is this?’ bringing the first real smile to Lily’s lips for days.

‘Me, Aunt. How are you coping alone?’ Suddenly she could see a possible way out. ‘Short-handed, it must be difficult. Did you find someone to exercise Maisie’s dog?’ If she could get her great-aunt to admit that in her absence the charity couldn’t meet its obligations she’d have the perfect excuse to cut her stay in Italy short.

‘Don’t fuss, child! We are coping beautifully. Kate Johnson is in place. She came early. And as soon as she’d settled into her accommodation at Felton Hall she started to organise the volunteers. She’s found two—got the vicar to plead for help after his sermon—and is advertising for more in the local paper. She even managed to get Life Begins a good write-up. I can’t think why we didn’t think to do that ourselves! It takes a well-paid professional to get things right. Even at this early stage everything is looking far more hopeful. I would have thought that young man of yours would have told you all this. He’s in daily touch by telephone. He’s obviously taking his involvement very seriously.’

‘Young man of yours’? She couldn’t mean Paolo, could she? How absurd? Lily fell into a glum silence, her escape route well and truly blocked. She was glad for the charity’s sake, of course she was, but it didn’t help her situation. Which, she admitted uncomfortably, was really selfish of her.

‘You still there?’ The volume of the question made Lily flinch and squawk an affirmative, holding the receiver away from her ear as her great-aunt boomed on, ‘So no need to fuss! Now, are you having a lovely time?’ Thankfully not waiting for an answer, she continued, ‘When our new partner suggested he give you a holiday in Italy, mentioning that his mother had recently been ill and could do with some young company, and that you looked very tired, I realised I had been neglecting your welfare. You’ve been working far too hard for too long …’

Lily mentally shut out the unnecessarily loud one-sided conversation. So that was how he had persuaded Edith to agree, without questioning his motives, to allow her to go to Italy without any fuss. She had often wondered. But she should have known he could charm the birds out of the trees when he had to. When Paolo Venini wanted something he got it. One way or another.

Cutting into a pause for breath at the other end of the line, she said, ‘Look after yourself, Aunt. And I’ll see you soon.’

At least she devoutly hoped so.

Paolo swung the car onto the long curving drive up to the villa. He was running late. He would be hard-pressed to shower and change before dinner, taken at the earlier hour of seven as a concession to his mother’s recuperation. His meetings had run on for longer than he’d expected, and for some reason he’d been anxious to get home, so he hadn’t been his usual incisive self. His mind had been elsewhere.

Because he wanted to see Lily? Be with her? The thought flickered briefly, unwelcomely, across his mind. Of course not! Or if he did then it would only be to check things out, reassure himself that she hadn’t, without his presence, his guidance, done or said something to give the game away.