Wife in the Shadows (8 page)

She’d been told the workmen engaged on the refurbishment had only left the previous day and she was aware of the scent of paint and fresh plaster in the air, and how the walls seemed to glow. She listened in silence to Angelo’s cool and impersonal account of how the wiring had been replaced through the house, and all the plumbing modernised.

As if, she thought, he was delivering a lecture on the renovation of old houses to a not very interesting audience, instead of describing her future, if temporary, home.

From the
salotto,
they went to the dining room, with its superb frescoed ceiling, but by-passed altogether the room he referred to as ‘my study’ on their way to the kitchen quarters.

Which meant, she thought, that there were no-go areas for her too.

It was something of a relief to be delivered over to Assunta, his plump and smiling housekeeper, for the remainder of the tour, which, of course, included the rooms intended for her in the West Wing.

The bed, she supposed, swallowing, was also traditional, a huge canopied expanse of snowy linen, piled high with pillows, and a wonderful crimson coverlet with the Manzini coat of arms embroidered in gold.

But Ellie was aware of a swift jolt at Assunta’s confidential disclosure that His Excellency had been born in that bed, accompanied by a twinkling glance to remind her where her own duty lay.

In the adjoining
stanza di bagnio,
as well as a deep, sunken bath, there was a semi-circular shower cabinet that would easily have accommodated the entire bathroom in her flat on its own.

And she would never, in a hundred years, have sufficient clothes to fill that panelled dressing room with its wall of wardrobes.

The entire set-up made her feel overwhelmed and even a little off-balance with the weight of its obvious expectations, especially when she’d realised from the first moment that almost everyone who worked in the house or on the estate was lurking in the vicinity in an attempt to catch a glimpse of her, and that the smiles that greeted her held unalloyed goodwill.

But then it was a long time, as Assunta had told her, the brown eyes suddenly a little anxious, since Vostranto had a mistress.

They’re all going to be so disappointed in me, Ellie thought, as she returned downstairs to the unsmiling young man who was about to reluctantly bestow all this grandeur upon her.

She thought he’d be waiting for her in the
salotto,
glancing impatiently at his watch, but the room was deserted and she stood for a moment quite alone, relishing the quiet, reminding herself that this was how life was going to be for the foreseeable future, but also that she was used to it—accustomed, most of the time, to her own company both at her apartment and the

Casa Bianca—so that shouldn’t, wouldn’t be a problem. That really it was what she preferred.

And even as that thought took shape in her mind, everything seemed to change, as if, for a moment, this room into which she’d walked as a stranger only an hour or two before had become suddenly familiar and somehow—enfolded her.

So that when Angelo strode in from the terrace a few minutes later, looking preoccupied and asking if she was ready to leave, she agreed quietly and calmly, knowing that, when the time came, she would be even more contented to return. And that at least part of her life as the Contessa Manzini, while far from perfect, would at least be endurable.

But not all the issues within the marriage were going to be as easy to deal with. There was, for instance, the vexed question of her employment.

‘My wife,’ Angelo told her icily when she’d asked how soon after the wedding she could return to Avortino, ‘does not work.’

Ellie gasped indignantly. ‘But that’s ludicrous,’ she protested. ‘Just what am I supposed to do all day—sit around twiddling my thumbs? Thank you,
signore,
but no thanks. I love my job, I’m good at it, and I’ve promised my boss that I’ll be back at my desk—
pronto.’

‘Then you should have consulted me first, when I would have told you it was out of the question.’ His expression was like stone. ‘The matter is closed.’

‘Like hell it is.’ Her voice shook. ‘I’ve agreed, much against my will and better judgement, to this pretence of a marriage. A little compromise on your part might be good.’

His lips tightened. ‘If you think I am being unreasonable, Elena, consider the practical difficulties. Travelling into the city each day is only one of them.’

She lifted her chin. ‘I have a car.’ And I also had an apartment I could have used, she added silently, which you’ve made me get rid of, while keeping your own.

‘I have seen your car,’ Angelo said dismissively. ‘Old and unreliable. A potential death trap, which will have to be replaced.’

He paused. ‘But that changes nothing. You will have no time to spend at Avortino once you become the Contessa Manzini. Your predecessors have found that in itself a full-time job with a household to run. New duties to learn.’

‘Well I can’t speak for a long line of downtrodden women,’ Ellie returned with equal coldness. ‘But the household in question seems to have been managing perfectly well without either of us for some considerable time.’

‘But that will change once we are married,’ he said flatly. ‘I intend to use Vostranto far more, and you will have to accustom yourself to being the hostess when I entertain friends—business acquaintances. That, I think, will take time.’

In other words, Ellie thought, slashed by a pain as sharp as it was unexpected, I’m not up to the job. As if I needed any reminder.

She said quietly, ‘Then perhaps you should postpone your social whirl, Count Manzini, until I’ve gone back to the real world and you’ve acquired someone more suitable to welcome your guests.’ She paused. ‘I’m sure you’ll be spoiled for choice.’

There was a silence, then he said slowly, ‘Allow me to apologise. I did not intend how that must have sounded.’

Ellie looked past him, biting her lip. She said remotely, ‘It really doesn’t matter.’ And wished with all her heart that her statement were true.

But, she told herself in silent defiance, if he thought the question of Avortino had been settled, he was entirely wrong. When this so-called marriage was concluded, she would need to work, having no plans to accept the proposed settlement however generous.

When it’s over, I want it to be over, she thought. Which does not include being under any kind of obligation to him, legal, financial or otherwise.

However, she had not anticipated that Casa Bianca would prove yet another bone of contention.

The Principessa had mentioned it casually over dinner one
night. ‘Your little seaside retreat, Elena. What will happen to that when you are married?’

Ellie hesitated, uncomfortably aware that Angelo, who had been talking to the Prince, had turned his head and was looking at her, brows raised in enquiry.

He said softly, ‘A retreat for a new wife. That sounds a little alarming,
mia cara.
Also unnecessary. What is this place, and where?’

Ellie met his gaze, concealing her unease at the challenge in his voice. ‘My grandmother left me a little cottage at the coast in a place called Porto Vecchio.’ She added coolly, ‘It’s only a small fishing village, and not a bit fashionable, so I don’t suppose you’ve heard of it.’

‘No, but I have learned of it now, and the fact that you own a house there, which I was also unaware of.’ He paused. ‘It must involve you in considerable expense. I therefore presume you will wish to sell it?’

‘On the contrary,’ said Ellie. ‘I have no intention of parting with it, although I may possibly rent it out in the holiday season.’
When hell freezes over.

Angelo inclined his head courteously. ‘All that is something we will naturally have to discuss.’

Ellie widened her eyes into a limpid stare. Allowed her voice a note of amusement. ‘But,
mio caro,
what is there to talk about, when my decision has already been made?’

Besides, she added silently, Roman dictators went out with Julius Caesar, or hadn’t you heard?

But the set of Angelo’s jaw as he turned his attention back to the plate of
osso buco
in front of him, coupled with a long, thoughtful look from Contessa Cosima, warned her that she had probably not heard the last on the subject.

However, there was no way she was giving up the cottage, she vowed inwardly, no matter what objections her reluctant husband might have to her possession of it. It was her own special place and it meant too much—held too many memories to be abandoned on his say-so.

Nonna Vittoria had left a sum of money to cover immediate
maintenance costs and local taxes, but this, of course, would not last forever. And as Ellie had no intention of asking Count Manzini for a cent towards Casa Bianca’s upkeep, retaining her job and its salary was becoming even more essential, she thought grimly.

But lying sleepless that night, an idea came to her that could solve that particular problem, although its accomplishment would probably not sweeten Angelo’s temper.

On the other hand, there went a man far too used to getting his own way—especially with women. Maybe it was time he got his comeuppance, even in a minor way.

There was a room at Vostranto, not large but with good light, and not currently being used for very much, although there was a small kneehole desk under the window which, Ellie had been told, was where Count Angelo’s late mother had written her correspondence and overseen the household accounts.

But if her laptop was installed there, she’d be able to receive translation work from Avortino by email, and return it, completed, by the same method. So commuting would not be necessary, and if she continued to use her maiden name for professional purposes, no-one need ever know that the new Contessa Manzini was gainfully employed, with or without her husband’s goodwill.

She would need Assunta’s help, but her instinctive response to Vostranto and the spell it had worked on her seemed to have established her firmly in the housekeeper’s good books, so she did not foresee major problems from that direction at least.

Or, she reflected, turning over and punching her pillow into shape, just as long as there weren’t too many references to the nursery accommodation on the second floor, also unoccupied.

But a week later, with the toasts drunk, the wedding cake distributed and the alien gold of Angelo’s ring gleaming on her hand, Ellie was no longer so confident about winning the necessary concessions. After all, she reminded herself, she had basically been hired to do a job, so her status at Vostranto would be little more than that of an employee. And as she
drove with her husband to her new home, this time without the chauffeur’s presence, she could feel her inner tensions building again.

Glancing sideways, she saw that the tanned face with its sculpted mouth looked strangely austere, and realised he too must have reservations about the immediate future, and the sterile bargain it contained.

But it was all his own doing, she reminded herself stonily. I was just caught up in the subsequent storm. So whatever regrets he’s having, he fully deserves.

And Silvia, of course, had got off scot-free as she’d done so many times in childhood when retribution threatened, proving that there was no justice. But Ernesto seemed to be keeping a close eye on her, so perhaps her wings had been clipped.

‘Is something wrong?’ Angelo asked suddenly, and she jumped.

‘No. Why do you ask?’

‘You seem a little restless.’

‘Recent events,’ she said, ‘are hardly conducive to calm.’

There was a silence, then he said, ‘I do not know what else I can say to assure you …’

‘That I am of no interest to you?’ Ellie lifted her chin. ‘Believe me,
signore,
that is probably the least of my concerns.’

‘Then what troubles you?’

She took a breath. ‘There’s something I have to tell you. I’ve decided to go on working—but from home—your home—from Vostranto.’

‘How do you propose to do so?’ His tone was not encouraging.

‘By email. I—I’ve had a room your mother once used fixed up as an office.’ She paused. ‘It won’t disturb you or get in the way of the household duties that seem so important to you. I’ll work all the hours I need to for that. However, you must see that I need my career and my future.’

‘You do not trust me to support you adequately?’ He rapped the question at her.

‘Yes—for the time being.’ She swallowed. ‘But try to understand that I also value my independence. Which will last a great deal longer than this—pretend marriage.’

He said something under his breath. Then: ‘And you did not think to consult me before putting these arrangements—in place?’

‘I thought of it—yes.’ She stared rigidly ahead through the windscreen. ‘But I decided I knew what you would say. And if you now countermand my instructions, then your staff will know that—as well as everything else—my wishes do not matter to you, which will make it difficult for me to gain their respect, and run Vostranto as efficiently as you seem to wish.’

There was another silence, then he said softly, ‘I see I have underestimated you, Elena. On this occasion, I shall allow your orders to stand. But make sure—make very sure—that you do not underestimate me. I am still the master of Vostranto.’

‘Of the house—yes.’ Her heart was thudding wildly. ‘But you’re not my master, Count Manzini, and you never will be.’

He jerked the wheel suddenly, and Ellie cried out as the car veered to the side of the road, coming to rest on the grass verge.

‘You like to challenge me, it seems,
mia bella.’
His voice bit. ‘But you have done so once too often.’

He reached for her almost negligently, pulling her hard into his arms. His mouth was hard too, and sensually explicit, inflicting a kiss without mercy which left the softness of her lips bruised and burning when at last he raised his head.

His gaze was mocking, cynical, as he looked down at her.

‘So, now you know, Elena, what it means to make me angry. You would be well advised not to risk it again.
Capisce?’

She said in a voice she did not recognise, ‘I—I understand.’ And did not speak again for the remainder of the journey.