Moth to the Flame (21 page)

petulantly hoisted one of her pillows, and winced at the resulting

pain the hasty movement had caused to her injured ribs. 'The infant

is still firmly in place, just in case you were hoping I'd have a

convenient miscarriage.'

'Oh, Jan!' Juliet sank limply down on to the chair at the side of the

bed. 'What an appalling thing to say!'

'Have you told your handsome betrothed that his first nephew—or

niece, of course—is going to be a bastard?' Jan demanded

maliciously, and laughed. 'I wonder if he'll invite me to the

wedding. Only if it's as whirlwind as the courtship, I suppose.' She

looked her sister up and down. 'Darling Julie,' she said without a

trace of affection in her tone. 'Always so sane and sensible, like

lace-up shoes. Has the gorgeous Santino managed to unlace you, or

have you convinced him that vestal virgins are the in thing this

year?' She gave a little giggle. 'Poor Santino! It must be a new thing

in his experience, finding a girl who doesn't sleep around. I hope the

novelty lasts, sweetie. How awful to have your husband die of

boredom on your wedding night!'

'Awful indeed,' Juliet returned pleasantly. 'But just think what a

wealthy widow I'll be.'

Jan raised her eyebrows. 'Touché,' she remarked appreciatively.

'The kitten is developing claws at last. If this is what a couple of

days with Santino can do, there may be hope for you yet.'

Juliet looked down at her hands, clasped in her lap. 'Jan,' she said

quietly, 'what went wrong—with you and Mario, I mean?'

Jan gave an irritable lift of a shoulder. ' Let's just say that his family

arguments began to weigh more heavily with him than mine, and

leave it at that, shall we?'

'It wouldn't have had anything to do with the fact that he was

engaged already?'

Jan's faint scowl deepened perceptibly. 'So your involvement with

Santino has also included a crash course in family relationships,' she

said. 'Yes, of course I knew about Francesca.'

'And that didn't stop you?' Juliet stared down at her sister in utter

perplexity. 'You knew he belonged to someone else, and yet...'

'If you're going to sit around moralising at me, then you can go.' Jan

glared at her openly. 'I took a gamble which didn't come off, that's

all. Anyway, I can't imagine why the boring little Francesca didn't

stay in her convent for life. That would have solved everyone's

problem.'

'Are you so sure?' Juliet asked with some bitterness. 'From what I've

been able to gather in the past couple of days you haven't exactly

presented yourself , as the ideal bride.'

'Perhaps not,' Jan said coolly. 'But then I never pretended to opt for

the role of the family virgin. That's yours, my sweet, and I can only

say you're welcome to it.'

A troubled silence fell in the small sunny room on the fourth floor

of the clinic. Juliet began to feel as if she was living through an

endless nightmare. She had told herself so often that everything that

had happened to her, even the foolish deception she had practised

would be worth it if Jan and Mario were married. She had believed

with a kind of silly romanticism that they were a pair of star-crossed

lovers whom she was helping on their way to happiness. Now it

was more than evident that this was far from being the case. Jan

seemed put out at the upset toiler plans, but little more. Juliet

doubted whether she had any genuine feeling for Mario at all.

Muted sounds of traffic drifted up from the street below, underlying

the reality of the situation. This was no dream, and nor was the

heavy emerald she wore on her engagement finger, the type of

flawless gem she had never imagined she would ever possess. Not,

of course, that she did possess it, she reminded herself hastily. It

was a loan—a stage property. If she had found the role of Jan

difficult to play, then the part of Santino's fiancée was doubly hard,

for she had to act like a loving woman, yet at the same time conceal

the fact that no acting ability was needed. She loved him, yet she

could acknowledge the painful truth only to herself. He must not

know, he must never know, she'd kept repeating to herself over and

over again, like a charm, as they had driven to the clinic, the

Signora silent and watchful in the seat behind.

Sitting beside him, watching him drive, had not been easy. She'd

wanted very badly to touch him, to have the right to put her hand

over his, however fleetingly, even to let her arm brush his casually.

But she didn't dare, because she knew that any such gesture, no

matter how carefully masked, would give her away instantly. Any

physical contact with him was still too new, too raw to be casual.

Neither of them had said a great deal, probably because everything

that was needful had been said already, she thought dully. Santino

had briefed her fully in the short time he was done with her to give

her the ring. He had also outlined the explanation he intended to

give to his family of their sudden engagement.

Although she had been prepared, it was still a shock to hear this

coldly enunciated by the Signora.

'My son tells me he has done you a great wrong,
signorina,
and that

his honour and yours demands he make reparation by marrying

you.' She gave a glacial shrug. 'So be it.'

His stepfather had murmured something in an embarrassed voice,

patting her shoulder rather clumsily. It was obvious he had little

idea what to make of the situation.

But when the Contessa Leontana came down to the
salotto,
smiling

lazily, darting malicious glances under her lashes, Juliet saw for the

first time what family solidarity could mean. Santino had announced

to his mother that she was his chosen bride.
Bene.
No outsider

would be allowed to see how poorly she thought of his choice or

the motives of honour which had prompted it. Juliet found herself

presented to the Contessa by an almost vivacious Signora, who was

not above inventing a few additional details to add verisimilitude to

the story.

Juliet heard to her amazement that she had met Santino in London

the previous year, and that they would have been married then only

they had agreed to test their feelings by a year's separation. And

yes, it was quite true that she was the sister of the lovely Janina

who modelled for Di Lorenzo. Such a mercy that her looks had

apparently been spared in the accident, otherwise what a tragic

ending it would have been to her happy journey to celebrate her

sister's
fidanzamento.
And Mario too, who had offered to drive her

down. God was indeed merciful that he had been spared serious

injury.

The Contessa was all smiles and congratulations when she turned to

Juliet, but there was a blank look in her eyes which stated quite

plainly that she was not altogether impressed with what she had

been told. Juliet was relieved to find that the Contessa's knowledge

of English was even scantier than the Signora's, which meant that

she could avoid any overt questioning.

The Contessa tried hard to be a passenger in Santino's car for the

drive to the clinic, but she was firmly put aside by the smiling

Signora, who declared she wished to become better acquainted with

her daughter-in-law to be. It was with evident ill-grace that the

Contessa accepted a seat in her brother's car.

But it was just as well, Juliet told herself a number of times on the

journey. She doubted whether the illusion of the happy family party

could have been sustained in the presence of a third party. As it

was, no one had to make polite conversation or trouble the tense

silence that prevailed in the car for most of the hot and dusty

journey. When the Signora did speak it was to direct terse questions

at Santino. The tone in which these were uttered and his

tight-lipped replies left Juliet in little doubt as to the subject, and

she felt herself cringe unhappily inside. She wished that she was a

thousand miles away, or better still that she had never succumbed

to the temptation of coming to Italy at all. Look where her

well-meaning interference had led her, she thought miserably, to

heartbreak. And yet, paradoxically, she knew she could not

honestly say she regretted her meeting with Santino. Until that

moment she had been only half alive, although she hadn't realised it.

But she knew it now, and she knew too that having caught even a

brief glimpse of the sheer radiance that life could bring, she would

never again be content to settle for second-best.

On arrival at the clinic, a large modern building in extensive

grounds on the outskirts of the city, they had been met by a smiling

nun, one of the nursing order who ran the clinic, whose reassuring

words brought a smile of relief to the Signora's strained face.

Santino had turned to Juliet. 'I shall take my mother to see Mario,'

he said abruptly. 'I imagine you would prefer to see your sister

alone for a while.'

She murmured her assent, but now she was beginning to regret that

she had not waited to confront Jan until he was free to accompany

her. At least the foregoing painful little scene might have been

avoided in the presence of a third party—especially, an intimidating

presence like Santino's.

'What's the matter?' Jan's voice broke across her reverie. 'Love's

sweet dream turning sour already? That's the trouble with whirlwind

romances, of course. It's very exciting while you're actually being

swept along, but you tend to come back down to earth with a bump

eventually.'

'It isn't that.' Juliet got up restlessly and walked over to the window,

her fingers playing with the blind cord as she stood looking out.

'I—I have, to know what you intend to do next.'

'You mean will I go along with this farrago of nonsense that you

and Santino have dreamed up to explain why Mario and I just

happened to be in the same car together miles from Rome?' Jan

gave a little mirthless laugh. 'Can you give me one good reason why

I should? After all, I owe the Vallone clan nothing—but nothing.'

'Would it be an added incentive if I were to say that Vittoria

Leontana will be here any moment, and that if she discovers the

true facts you can forget any hopes you may have had about

keeping this whole miserable business from Mim?' Juliet kept her

voice level with an effort.

'Vittoria?' Jan said sharply. 'What the hell is she doing here? She's

the last person I ever want to see again—spiteful, conniving bitch!'

'We won't argue about that,' Juliet said a little wearily. 'It's a little

complicated to explain, but she happens to be related by marriage

to the Vallone family, and she's travelling to the clinic with

Santino's stepfather. In fact they've probably arrived by now.'

Tersely she told her sister all Santino had had to say about the

Contessa's nose for scandal, and her contacts in the newspaper

world.

'She wouldn't hesitate to make money out of this story,' she ended.

'And can you imagine the effect it will have on Mim if she picks up

the newspaper one morning and sees all the details laid out for

public inspection?'

She was glad to see that even Jan looked discomposed.

'Of course I can imagine,' she said shortly. 'Very well, sister dear. It

seems I'll have to go along with this silly story of yours. But on one

condition.'

Juliet's heart sank. 'I'm not sure that I can ...' she began.

'Then forget it.' Jan waved. 'I'll just have to risk that I can find some

way of closing Vittoria's mouth. I know a few details about her that

she might not want making public and...'

'Oh, no!' Juliet broke in swiftly, sickened. 'For heaven's sake don't

bring yourself down to her level. Tell me the condition and—and I'll

find some way of fulfilling it.'

Jan leaned back against her pillows. She was smiling again, a small

dulcet smile as she looked up at her sister under her eyelashes.

'It's suddenly occurred to me that I need somewhere to go,' she said

with a pretty plaintiveness. 'I want to steer clear of Rome for a little

while for obvious reasons, and I can't go back to England either, so

I need a refuge.' She paused expectantly, looking up at Juliet.

'You mean—you want me to give you a home?' Juliet asked