Under the Italian's Command (16 page)

‘Olivia,’ she prompted, as if news of her younger daughter had travelled far and wide. ‘The beautiful sister,’ she added, in case he was in any doubt.

‘Oh?’ He smiled pleasantly, after shooting a glance at
Carly
. He had to remember they were discussing her sister, but in his opinion there was no one more beautiful than
Carly
.

Olivia chose that very moment to breeze in, in a flurry of cold air and childish perfume.

‘
Carly
!’ she exclaimed as if all her Christmases had come at once. Ignoring everyone else in the room, Olivia threw her arms around her sister and danced about with her. She was deaf to her mother’s pleading that if she didn’t stop she might break something.

From what he could see there was already a litter of broken hearts in the room.

‘
Carly
, come with me.’

His jaw worked with annoyance as her mother uttered this instruction. She had broken father and daughter apart, and now she was doing the same to her two daughters. What was wrong with the woman? He held back from comment; his up-bringing wouldn’t allow him to countermand an instruction from
Carly’s
mother in her own home. He would just have to fix the damage later.

‘Are you pregnant?’

Carly’s
eyes widened. Her mother had barricaded them in the tiny kitchen, and now she stood barring the only escape route with her back firmly planted against the door.

‘Why do you ask?’ If she was pregnant, she would need her mother’s support, surely?

‘Because I can’t think of a single reason why a man like that pupil master of yours would fly you up here in a private jet just to see us.’ Her mother’s thin lips pursed as she waited for a response.

‘He said it was Christmas, a time for families to be together.’

‘That’s never bothered you in the past.’

‘I only ever missed one Christmas at home, and that was when I was on a gap year from university—’

‘But you didn’t fly back then, did you?’

‘You know I didn’t. I was in India. I’m sorry. I didn’t
realise
…I should have been here—’

‘Yes, you should,’ her mother said impatiently, frowning. ‘So are you pregnant?’

She had been brought up to tell the truth, and everyone knew condoms failed, and people got pregnant all the time. ‘I don’t know…’
Carly
met her mother’s cold gaze steadily. They could both hear Lorenzo, his deep voice providing a melodious counterpoint to Olivia’s delighted laughter.

‘Well,’ her mother said with a knowing air. ‘You needn’t think a man like that’s going to marry you…’ Glancing towards the door, she made it clear whom she considered the more suitable candidate to be. ‘If he has got you pregnant the best you can hope for is a pay-off. Any mistress to a man like that would have to be—’

‘Beautiful, Mother?’
Carly
cut in. ‘Stylish? Content to live in the lap of luxury provided by Lorenzo? We both know I don’t fit any of those categories, don’t we?’

‘Don’t turn your bitterness and disappointment on me,’ her mother shot back. ‘If you’re pregnant, have an abortion.’

The moment’s silence rang on and on.

‘Don’t look so
scandalised
,’
Carly’s
mother insisted. ‘You’ve always been the practical member of the family. If there’s a problem there’s a solution—wasn’t that what you always used to say to me?’

Carly
flinched. She hadn’t
realised
that so much bitterness had built up over the years. It might be too late, but she had to try one last time. ‘You gave up so much for me.’

‘Yes, I did,’ her mother said. ‘But that’s behind us now.’

Was it? Would it ever be behind them? No,
Carly
thought, it was here with them now in the tiny kitchen like a malign force—every penny spent, every missed hair appointment that had gone to provide for some expensive textbook. And she hadn’t seen it. Had she been too self-absorbed to see it? She had—and this was the price she had to pay. ‘If I am pregnant you wouldn’t really want me to abort your grandchild, would you?’ Her throat constricted as she waited for her mother to answer.

‘Make up your own mind,’ her mother said dismissively. ‘You never listen to me anyway. I just hope you’re not on your way to making a bigger fool of yourself than usual.’

As Lorenzo’s laughter sounded from the other room
Mrs
Tate moved away from the door. ‘You’d better go back in if you’re to have the slightest hope of hanging on to him.’

Blinded by tears,
Carly
blundered through the door.

‘
Carly
…’

Lorenzo got to his feet the moment she entered the room. He was smiling, and there was such a change in the atmosphere after the frost in the kitchen it took her a moment to adapt. The small sitting room was unusually full of life. Her father had even switched off the television. But as Lorenzo stepped forward to take hold of her hands she got the horrible feeling he was about to make an announcement. She was so disorientated and distressed after the talk with her mother she managed to persuade herself that Lorenzo wanted to comfort her when he explained that he was going to marry her sister. It was the only thing that made sense; they were both so beautiful. She could even hear him saying it: ‘
Mr
and
Mrs
Tate, I have been struck by a thunderbolt and have no alternative other than to ask for the hand of your daughter Olivia—’

‘
Carly
?’ Lorenzo said, dipping his head to stare her in the eyes. ‘Where are you now?’

In the middle of a nightmare. Blinking, she refocused. Her mother and father had returned to their usual places either side of the fire. Her mother sat on the edge of her easy chair, while her father sat well back, as if bracing himself for confrontation. Olivia sat in silence on the sofa staring up at her.

For the first time in her life she couldn’t bring herself to meet her sister’s gaze. This time it wasn’t a question of yielding a
favourite
toy, or the last chocolate in the box, it was the threat of losing the man she loved.

The man at the centre of the drama stood in front of her, making the tiny sitting room seem claustrophobic. Whatever had happened, whatever misunderstandings there had been between them, Lorenzo was the only person who made sense of her life. He was the direction she wanted to take; she just hadn’t
realised
it before. And now it was too late.

‘CARLY’S OVERWHELMED at returning home,’ Lorenzo said to explain her silence. ‘I’m glad you two had time together,’ he told her mother, but something in his eyes left
Mrs
Tate in no doubt that he knew what she had done.

The tension that followed was suddenly too much for
Carly
, and she bolted for the stairs. She was halfway up them before she remembered she didn’t have a room in the house any longer. Fortunately, Olivia was right behind her.

‘My room,’
Livvie
said. ‘Left at the top of the stairs.’

‘My old room…’
Carly
smiled as she looked around. Plain fabrics had been replaced by chintz, and there was lace at the window.

‘It’s a bit frilly for you,’
Livvie
said, reading her sister’s thoughts. ‘I hope you don’t object to my taking it over, only it was bigger than mine. You don’t mind, do you,
Carly
?’

‘No, of course I don’t mind. You get the rooftops…’
Carly
turned to stare out of the window at a view she knew so well. She used to imagine all the hidden miles rolling back behind the chimney pots…

‘I thought I’d better take the bigger room since it looks like I’m stuck here for life.’

Carly
turned to look at her sister. Olivia had flopped down on the bed. ‘You’re not stuck here any more than I was. Not unless you want to be,
Livvie
.’

‘I’ve missed you…’
Livvie
patted the bed by her side.

‘And I’ve missed you…’ They hugged.

‘So, is this Lorenzo special?’

There could be no secrets between sisters as close as they were,
Carly
realised
. ‘Lorenzo?’ She gave a dry laugh. ‘Anyone can see Lorenzo’s special—far too special for me.’

‘No one’s too special for you,’
Livvie
argued hotly. ‘And why would he bring you all this way if he didn’t care for you?’

‘His good deed for the year, maybe.’

‘
Carly
, what’s happened to you? You never used to be so cynical.’

‘I never used to be much of anything, unless being a bookworm counts—’

‘That’s not true!’
Livvie
exclaimed with exasperation. ‘You’ve always been the most wonderful sister to me. You’re kind and loyal and brave. And you had the courage to escape.’

‘You have that same courage. We’re sisters. We’re out of the same egg.’

‘The same bitter old husk, don’t you mean?’

‘
Livvie
…Don’t say that about Mother. She’s done her best. But it’s never enough, can’t you see? She never quite managed to catch up with those wealthy friends of hers.’

‘Then she should get herself some real friends,’ Olivia argued fiercely.

By the time the two girls returned to the sitting room Lorenzo seemed to have worked magic. He had certainly put their parents at ease.

The atmosphere could hardly remain tense while Lorenzo was around,
Carly
reflected, but she wasn’t ready for her mother’s next remark.

‘Why don’t you stay over?’ her mother invited. ‘We’ve got two spare rooms now
Carly’s
gone. Of course,’ she hurried to explain, ‘Christmas Day is a simple affair in the Tate household, and not up to your usual standards—just lunch at the golf club, followed by a few drinks. If I make a call now I’m sure they’ll put on a couple of extra places.’ Her eyes were already gleaming at the thought of introducing Lorenzo round.

‘How kind of you,
Mrs
Tate,’ Lorenzo said politely. ‘I’d love nothing more, but I must admit I’ve made other plans for your daughter.’

As her mother tensed
Carly
felt sure the whole world was holding a collective breath.

‘Are you ready,
Carly
?’ he said, turning to her.

Why had she ever doubted him? Why had she ever doubted
Livvie
? Throwing her arms around
Livvie’s
neck, she hugged her tight, begging her softly, ‘Come and see me soon.’

‘I will,’
Livvie
assured her in the same passionate undertone.

Lorenzo was quiet on the drive back to the airport and
Carly’s
cheeks were burning as she imagined what he must be thinking. Her family home was shabby and parochial in comparison to his elegant city centre penthouse. She’d never seen her childhood home through a visitor’s eyes before, never felt the tensions that existed between her mother and father to this extent.

The saddest thing was that she could remember a time when love was king, and possessions, like people’s position in life, took second place. But that had been a long time ago, and seemed now almost like a dream that had never existed outside her imagination.

He was quiet because he was thinking about the suburban house they’d just left. In so many respects it was superior to the chaotic family home where he’d been brought up, but in the ways that mattered
Carly’s
family home was impoverished. There were many more ways that cruelty could be dealt than in a blow, and
Carly
had done well to get away and forge a life for herself. He was so proud of her; her strength of character shone through everything he’d seen today.

‘Lorenzo, I’m so sorry—’

‘Sorry? For what?’

‘I would have thought that was obvious.’ She met his gaze fearlessly as she always did.

‘Not to me.’ He squeezed her hand.

‘You don’t have to be kind,’ she insisted, pulling away. ‘I know what you were trying to do back there.’

‘Do you?’ He smiled as he saw her cheeks pink up. ‘You have no idea,’ he assured her. Dragging her close, he brushed the tears from her cheeks with his thumb pads and then he kissed her and kept on kissing her until she believed him.

It was too late and too stormy to fly back to London, and so Lorenzo asked the chauffeur to take them to the nearest luxury hotel that had a room to spare.

‘On Christmas Eve in Manchester?’
Carly
said, turning to look at him in surprise.

Her eyes were tear-stained and he knew she was still hurting. The damage her mother had done wasn’t something that could be eradicated in a few hours; it would take a lot more time than that. Frustration was gnawing away inside him because he’d failed to shield her from the hurt. He wanted to reach inside her and wrench it out. He wanted to take her in his arms and reassure her and kiss that look off her face. He wanted to hold her hand and take her into a park where they could fool around and feed the ducks, and she would laugh. She didn’t laugh much, and now he knew why.

‘So what did you think of my family?’ she asked him.

‘I liked your sister.’ He smiled as he spoke. What was not to like?
Livvie
was childlike and eager to please, and almost as wounded as
Carly
in her way.

‘She’s very pretty, isn’t she?’

His brows drew together as he thought about it. Olivia was certainly a pleasure to look at in the same way he might enjoy looking at an interesting work of art, but did she move him? Did she make him feel like
Carly
made him feel? Not in a million years. He felt warm towards Olivia because of the way Olivia felt about her sister, and that was it. ‘She’s not as beautiful as you,’ he said, holding
Carly’s
gaze. And then he kissed her. She made him feel so good. She was beautiful inside and out. Maybe Olivia was too, but he had no interest in finding out. He’d found the woman he wanted.

‘And my father?’

‘Henpecked,’ he said bluntly, pulling back to answer her as she deserved. ‘Though an interesting man with an interesting story to tell about his life and his hobbies.’

‘Do you really think so?’ She looked astounded.

‘Yes, I do. Did you know, for instance, that he builds model airplanes in his shed?’

‘No,’
Carly
said with amazement. ‘I only hope mother doesn’t put a stop to it. I can’t imagine she’d like all that dust and glue flying about—’

‘Talking of flying,’ he interrupted, ‘I’ve promised to take your father up with me one day.’ As he spoke his jaw firmed in a way that told her he would do that regardless of what anyone else thought about the idea.

‘And my mother?’ she asked him softly, staring down at her hands.

‘Your mother is tense and anxious like a lot of people are when they encounter something new, or something beyond their control.’

She seemed relieved he hadn’t gone on the attack. ‘Taking my father flying is certainly that!’

‘She loves him in her way, and I think she’ll worry about him in the same way she worries about you.’

She made a dismissive sound at that. ‘Don’t get carried away, Lorenzo. I know you’re good with words, but we’re not in court now. I don’t mind. You can tell me exactly what you think.’

But she would mind. Whatever
Mrs
Tate was like she was
Carly’s
mother. ‘Your mother might relax more if she trusted her children to get on with their lives,’ he said carefully. ‘She doesn’t need to find a husband for Olivia or a career for you. You’re both capable of doing that for yourselves.’

‘Do you think Olivia should have a husband?’

There was an edge in her voice.

‘It’s up to Olivia. I think she should start by finding some work outside the home she cares about, and then she would feel liberated.’

‘And me?’

‘A home life outside your work?’ he suggested dryly.

‘How profound you’ve become, Signor
Domenico
,’ she mocked him.

‘
Carly
, I haven’t changed.’ He touched her hand. ‘And now…I think we’ve arrived.’ He gazed out of the tinted window as the limousine slowed to a halt.

As Lorenzo came round to her side of the car
Carly
couldn’t help wondering how far he would go to give all those things he’d talked about for Olivia and for her a helping hand. She pushed her concerns to one side as he gave the driver a generous tip and then asked the man to pick them up early the next morning.

‘Early?’ The word slipped out before she could stop herself.

‘Was that a complaint?’ Lorenzo challenged softly, taking hold of her hand.