‘Of course you did.’ At her surprised stare Cesare continued. ‘When we met you seemed almost too perfect. Poised and well groomed. You never seemed to find it difficult to make conversation, but you didn’t chatter. Whenever we went out you were comfortable and confident.’
Ida remembered it differently. Shehadbeen nervous because Cesare was the epitome of her girlish yearnings. She’d wanted him to like her, not simply because her grandfather wished it. Cesare was not only tall, dark and handsome but also gravely courteous and with a delicious Italian accent that curled around her heart and made it sing.
She’d fallen for him, building up a fantasy that he cared for her and would sweep her away to a new life far from her grandfather’s influence.
‘He was grooming you, wasn’t he?’
Ida nodded. ‘He wanted me to fit into the sort of society that he never mixed with. Yet he didn’t want me in boarding school with a set of privileged girls. He thought I might learn bad ways.’ And maybe meet boys. ‘It wasn’t until after we married that I understood his goal. When you explained it all.’
Cesare stared at her, two vertical lines carved down his forehead. But instead of instantly rejecting her words, he seemed to mull them over.
‘I didn’t know he was blackmailing you. I believed you when you said it suited you to marry. I thought you wanted a hostess.’ Though she should have realised that was wrong. Why choose her when there were so many gorgeous, sophisticated women? ‘Plus I leapt at the chance to get away.’
She waited for Cesare to argue. Instead, he seemed to withdraw as if lost in thought.
‘My grandfather had become more demanding and restrictive. He even chose the clothes I wore in London. I had to look demure and wear only pale colours because he said they were moresuitable.’
Suitable for a virgin, though she didn’t say that.
He’d threatened dire consequences if she ever tried to date. Because he saw her virginity as an asset to make her attractive to the right bridegroom, his ticket into high society. If the chance to blackmail Cesare hadn’t arisen, he’d have pushed her to marry someone else he’d chosen.
‘He wasn’t your guardian when we met. You were an adult, and he had no legal hold over you. Why were you living with him when I visited?’
‘You think he’d let me go just like that? After the years and money he’d invested in me?’
To defy her grandfather would have meant danger for herself and for those she cared about.
‘You were scared of him even then?’
A pulse of something throbbed between them. Like a heavy heartbeat, thickening the air. As if once again she and Cesare were linked, not physically like last night, but in shared understanding. She breathed deep, telling herself to stop imagining things.
‘Any sane person would be scared of crossing Fausto Calogero.’ She broke eye contact and turned towards the glorious view. It felt wrong to discuss the man who was a sinister, threatening presence in her life in this lovely place. ‘Can we change the subject? I don’t want to talk about him now.’
She wanted to make the most of her time here. All too soon she’d have to face her troubles. Finding a secure place, starting over, staying hidden.
‘Of course.’ Cesare paused. ‘Thank you for telling me.’ Then he was on his feet. ‘I’ll get us some fresh coffee.’
Ida watched him go, following his loose-limbed stride. He was a man easy in his skin. A great lover. Surprisingly caring. Most amazing of all, he’d heard her out without interrupting. He’dlistened.
Yet why would he believe her when she’d given no hard evidence to back her claims?
She was grateful he was sensitive enough not to push for details about life with her grandfather. It was a time she’d rather forget. She stretched out her legs, rotating her feet to prove the sudden ache in her right ankle was pure imagination, a reminder of her grandfather’s brutality.
What did Cesare think of her now? He’d been surprisingly easy to speak to, not even baulking at her explanation that she’d believed he’d wanted to marry her.
But she hadn’t been entirely truthful.
She’d let him believe she’d agreed to the marriage because she didn’t dare cross Fausto Calogero.
That was true. She’d seen no way to escape her grandfather’s control. But she hadn’t wanted to defy him when he’d insisted she marry Cesare. She’dwantedthe wedding. Wanted the man who was, for just a little longer, her husband.
That was one truth she couldn’t reveal.
Cesare carried the tray of fresh coffee from the kitchen, relieved to be doing something.
Sitting at the table, watching Ida’s expression as she spoke of how Calogero had planned to use her even from childhood to further his schemes, had been difficult.
He’d wanted to jump up from the table and pace. To curse and berate himself for not considering the possibility that she, too, had been Calogero’s victim. That she’d been too scared to defy him.