‘Hurry up!’ Angie called.
‘Coming,’ she said with relief.
Lorenzo kissed her hand when he saw her in pale lavender embroidered silk. ‘Every man there will envy me,’ he declared. Despite his gallant words his air was abstracted. But they were all under a strain, she thought.
There was a burst of applause as they opened the ball together, making the first circuit of the floor alone before the others joined them. Heather had the feeling that everything was happening in slow motion, so that as she whirled in Lorenzo’s arms she had time to see the faces watching them. There was Baptista, flanked by her two cavaliers, smiling contentedly as she saw her dream come true. There were Angie and Bernardo, already looking like a settled couple. Everything was wonderful.
Then she noticed Renato standing close to the most extravagantly lovely woman she had ever seen. She was a ripe brunette in the full summer of her beauty. Her mouth was ripe and luscious, her dark eyes were as huge and vacant as a cow’s. Everything about her proclaimed lasciviousness, including the speaking look she was directing up at Renato.
‘Careful,’ Lorenzo said, tightening his grip on her. ‘You nearly stumbled.’
‘Sorry,’ she said breathlessly.
‘You were miles away. What were you thinking of?’
‘Why-our wedding, of course,’ she said with a bright laugh. ‘I think of it all the time.’
‘So do I-the day after tomorrow-and then we’ll tie the knot for ever.’
‘Yes-for ever.’
‘Thank goodness the others are starting to dance. I don’t feel so conspicuous.’
‘Who’s that woman with Renato?’
‘That’s Elena Alante, she’s a widow. Renato prefers them married, divorced or widowed. Experienced, anyway. The one over there is Minetta, and just behind her is the Contessa Julia Bennotti. All three of them are-well, Renato is-’
‘A brave man,’ Heather suggested lightly.
‘Very brave to have them all here at once. I wonder what possessed him.’
Heather wondered too when she finally came face to face with Renato. He looked more tense and edgy than she’d seen him before, like a man with a fiend sitting on his shoulder. He greeted Heather with a nod and a smile that seemed to take a lot of effort, and introduced her to Elena. As the two women inclined their heads in greeting Heather became aware of something that made her smile.
‘Allow me to congratulate you on your perfume, signora,’ she murmured. ‘It’s delightful.’
‘Dear Renato bought it for me recently,’ Elena cooed. ‘It’s called “Deep In The Night”. I keep telling him he shouldn’t buy me so many expensive gifts, but he says I’m special to him.’
‘And for a special friend a man buys a special gift,’ Heather murmured. ‘I’m sure he took a lot of trouble to choose exactly the right perfume for you.’
‘I think it’s time I had the privilege of dancing with the bride,’ Renato said curtly, taking her hand. Heather let him lead her onto the floor, where another waltz was just beginning.
‘That’s enough of your tricks,’ he growled.
‘I was only being polite. It really is a lovely perfume. And since you had the nerve to flaunt your harem, surely you shouldn’t be shy about them?’
‘There are some things best not talked about,’ he growled, a warning light in his eyes.
‘Not a guilty conscience, surely?’
‘No, just a sense of propriety,’ he snapped.
A bitter demon drove her to say, ‘Propriety? You? I wish I’d been a fly on the wall when you gave Elena that perfume, with a gallant speech about how she haunted your thoughts while you were in London-that is, the thoughts you could spare from Julia and Minetta, and, of course, when you weren’t propositioning your brother’s girlfriend-’
His hand in the small of her back tightened. ‘Stop it,’ he whispered. ‘Don’t dare to talk like that.’
‘I-’ It was suddenly hard to breathe. ‘I was only making small talk.’ She pulled herself together. ‘I haven’t yet thanked you for a delightful day out. You were right about spending our honeymoon on your boat.’ She was spinning words, any words, barely knowing what she said.
‘One thing I wasn’t right about,’ he grated. ‘You and Lorenzo must find somewhere else to live.’
‘But you said-’
‘I’ve changed my mind. You can’t live here.’
No need to ask why. She’d been wrong about the fiend. It wasn’t on his shoulder, but in his heart. It looked out from his eyes and told her that he was on hot coals. Just as she was.
She became aware that he was breathing harshly. She tried to tell herself that it was merely the exertion of dancing, but the truth was there between them. If they had been alone he would have kissed her. And then he would have kissed her again, long, hard and passionately. And she would have kissed him back in the way they’d both foreseen on that long ago day when he’d come to her counter and the air had been jagged between them from the first moment.
It was all wrong. She loved Lorenzo dearly, so how could she be on fire at the thought of laying her lips against Renato’s and feeling his arms about her? How could it be his body she ached to feel pressed against hers, his hands on her skin with the purposeful yet sensitive touch she’d felt once before? It had haunted her every moment since. She could admit that now.
It would have been easier if she’d stayed hostile to him, but their moment of sympathy on the beach had destroyed that. She’d discovered that she could like him, even be sad for him. That was even more dangerous than her body’s wayward reaction.
‘I shouldn’t dance with you,’ she blurted out in sudden dread.
‘I know,’ he said quietly.
‘I meant-I have so many duty dances to do. I shouldn’t waste one with miu frati.’
But the words were a mistake. They recalled the picnic when he’d spoken to her with a quiet intensity she suddenly didn’t want to remember.
‘You’re right,’ he said. ‘You must return to your duty, and I must return to my “harem”. They suit me. They cause me no problems.’
‘I’m sure nobody could cause you a problem that you couldn’t solve, Renato.’
‘Once I thought so too. The dance is ending. Goodnight-until I lead you to the altar to marry my brother.’
She turned away to meet one of the many Martelli relations who mustn’t be overlooked. After him there was another, and so her whole evening was taken up, and she didn’t have to look at Renato, or wonder who he was dancing with.
The world was shrouded in mist. Through it she was vaguely aware of strong arms carrying her down steps, laying her on a bed, hands moving over her bikini, stripping it from her body. She felt the slight breeze on her naked flesh, a towel dabbing her dry, her breasts, her thighs-
And then, piercing the mist, the man’s face, his eyes defenceless, appalled at his own thoughts.
Suddenly it all vanished, and Heather found she was sitting up in bed, shuddering, her body alive with unwanted sensation. ‘No,’ she gasped. ‘No!’
‘What is it?’ Angie asked, scrambling out of her own bed and hurrying to her. ‘Heather, what’s the matter?’
‘Nothing-just a dream-’
Just a dream in which the memory she’d fiercely suppressed had forced its way into view. She hadn’t dared remember how she’d lain naked in Renato’s arms, or how he’d looked at her. But part of her would never forget.
‘I’m going for a walk,’ she said.
‘Shall I come with you?’
‘No, thank you. I-I need to be alone.’
Throwing a light robe over her nightdress, she slipped out onto the terrace. The house was quiet and dark, and here in the cool night air she might soothe the fever that consumed her. It was two in the morning. Her wedding day. And she had been wrenched awake by a dream of another man.
In her heart she’d always known Renato was dangerous. But it would pass once she was married. In Lorenzo’s arms, in his bed, she would forget everything else. She must!
She looked over the terrace rail to the one below and what she saw filled her with relief. ‘Lorenzo,’ she called in a whisper. ‘I’m coming down.’
She returned through her room and slipped out, along the corridor, down the stairs. He was waiting for her in the hall, his arms open to receive her as she flung herself against him.
‘What is it, darling? What’s wrong?’
‘Nothing. I just wanted to say how much I love you-love you-love you-’
‘There’s no need to sound so upset about it.’
‘I’m not upset. Everything’s perfect. But I had to tell you that I love you.’
‘And I love you, so everything’s all right.’
He kissed her. Heather gave herself up to that kiss, trying to find in it everything she wanted. But no kiss could give that. They were both too full of tension. Things would be different when they were on the boat, drifting beneath the moonlight.
She jumped at a sudden sound from the darkness. ‘What was that?’
‘Only Renato. That’s his study. He’s actually in there, working.’
‘Could he have heard us?’
‘Probably. What does it matter? Forget him. Why, darling, you’re trembling.’ Lorenzo’s arms went around her. ‘Let me take you upstairs. Just a few more hours, and we’ll belong to each other for ever.’
The wedding dress was made of silk-satin, designed in a subtly medieval style, with the skirt falling in heavy folds from her waist, and the slight fullness coming from the huge amount of material that had been used. At the back it stretched out into a long train embellished around the hem with French lace. The sleeves were plain to the elbows, then flared into more lace. The veil stretched almost down to the floor, held in place by the pearl tiara. The effect of it with the dress was elegant and breathtaking.
The sensation of becoming a new person, that had come upon her gradually since she’d been here, was stronger now. Her day on the boat had bleached her light brown hair to gold; her lightly tanned skin made the whites of her eyes glow with brilliant effect. For the first time in her life she was not merely pretty but beautiful, even glamorous.
The heat of Sicily had done this to her, as it had also warmed her body, awakening her to physical sensations that had lain dormant in the mists of England. It was the heat of the furnace, and some northerners wilted in it. But Heather had flowered.
As bridesmaid, Angie wore a simple cream silk that brought out the glow of her skin and her dark eyes, full of pleasurable anticipation. Heather smiled at her.
‘I believe some Sicilian wedding customs are the same as those in England,’ she teased. ‘Like the one about the bridesmaid and the best man.’ Bernardo was the best man.
There was a knock on the door, and Renato called. ‘Everyone has gone to the cathedral. Bernardo and Lorenzo left several minutes ago. I’m waiting for you downstairs.’
Angie presented Heather with her bouquet of white roses. ‘You look fantastic. Lorenzo will keel over when he sees you.’
Heather smiled. In the bright sunlight her troubling fancies had faded. She loved Lorenzo and he loved her. That was all that mattered.
They made a slow procession along the corridor, then a slight turn so that Heather was looking down the broad staircase. Every servant in the house seemed to be gathered there to see her entrance, all beaming up at her with approval. And there was Renato, gazing up as the bride began her stately descent. His face bore a rigid look, as though he was holding his breath. Then he stepped forward, extending his hand. She placed her own hand in it, and he steadied her down the last few steps, while the servants applauded.
The limousine was waiting. Heather climbed carefully into the back and sat while Angie settled her dress and veil perfectly about her, then got in beside her. Renato joined them, and they were ready to go.
At first she looked out of the window at the scenery as they glided slowly down towards Palermo, trying to take in that this was really happening to her. Renato was silent, and she thought he too must be preoccupied, but when she turned to him she found his gaze fixed on her. In his eyes was the same stunned look she’d seen earlier.
They had reached the outskirts of Palermo and the car was making its way through the streets until at last the great cathedral was in sight. Both cars were drawing to a halt, the doors were opening.
She stood in the bright sunlight while Angie straightened her dress, then fell into place behind her. There was a little crowd nearby. They stopped to look at the wedding party. Some of them applauded, and Heather heard the whisper, ‘Grazziusu.’ Beautiful.
Renato looked at her.
‘Are you ready?’
‘Quite ready.’
‘No doubts?’
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