Ten days had passed since they had left for a tour of the Greek islands. A dreamy smile tilted her lips. Island-hopping round the Greek islands had been enormous fun. There had been picnics in secluded bays and once on a rugged hillside where a herd of goats had tried to steal Gianni’s lunch. Just thinking about it, she laughed again. They had visited Little Venice on Mykonos and ended their day there dining by the shore where Gianni had given her another ring, a diamond hoop that had shone brighter than the stars above them. A magical trip to the volcanic island of Santorini had followed and they had walked hand in hand up the steep streets, taking advantage of the most spectacular sea views. The nights were hot and very passionate, she recalled abstractedly, emerging from her reverie to wonder why she was sitting on the edge of the bath when she had already showered.
And then reality stole back and she paled and remembered that she was anxiously awaiting the result of the pregnancy test she had done. She hadn’t thought it was possible to fall pregnant so quickly but then her period had failed to arrive while they were abroad and she had begun to worry. After all, now that she was finally thinking about that momentous decision to try to get pregnant from the very start of their marriage, she was guiltily regretting it. She hadn’t really thought through the consequences of an early pregnancy when their marriage was still very much in the honeymoon phase. It would alter so much between them.
She had no doubt that Gianni would be pleased that she had conceived because he had made that same decision with her. Sadly, neither of them had devoted much time and thought to that life-changing choice. How much did Gianni know about pregnant women? That they got big? That they shouldn’t drink alcohol? That they had to take extra care of themselves and got tired more easily? Wouldn’t he find all those restrictions a drag? Mightn’t he find her larger body a bit of a passion-killer?
Finally, Jo checked her watch and reached for the wand. Well, she was pregnant, no doubt about that. A bubble of happy satisfaction broke through her insecurities. Gianni’s baby, she thought dreamily,theirbaby. Maybe a little boy, maybe a little girl, she didn’t much care which, only that her child be healthy. It had happened. She wouldn’t be surprised to learn that Trixie had cast some crazy fertility spell on them at the full moon. There was nothing the Hamilton women loved more than a baby in the family.I’m going to be someone’s mum, she thought dizzily, absolutely blown away by the idea.
She would tell Gianni when she was ready to tell him. Just at that moment she wanted to hug her precious secret to herself for a little while. In the meantime, she would see her doctor, have herself all checked out and present Gianni with the complete package. Why? She suspected that her pregnancy would make Gianni inclined to fuss over her every move and she wanted to be in a position of superior medical knowledge.
Jo went downstairs for breakfast in a pensive mood. She was surprised to find Gianni, superbly sleek and sophisticated in a tailored navy suit and an unusually conventional white shirt, still seated at the table reading theFinancial Times. ‘I thought you had an early flight,’ she remarked.
‘The meeting was moved back and I rescheduled. I’m leaving in five minutes,’ he warned her briskly, all switched into business mode, which made her want to smile.
Madre di Dio, that beauty of hers could light up the room, Gianni conceded, shaken by the thought, particularly when it came directly after his decision to leave her peacefully sleeping earlier when, in truth, he had wanted her company. Their relationship had shifted from a business deal to a level of complexity that stunned him. He told himself he didn’t need to think about it, that the closer they got, the better and more successful their marriage would be. But there was no denying that what they had was very far removed from what he had originally envisaged. As a rule, he skipped late travelling and stayed in London overnight, but Belvedere had developed an allure that had nothing to do with bricks and mortar and Gianni knew that he wouldn’t be spending the night anywhere but with his wife.
Jo helped herself to tea and toast and then wondered if she should be eating more protein and, when Abigail came in to check on them, surprised the older woman by asking for scrambled egg.
‘Madonna mia,’Gianni swore in sudden impatience. ‘I meant to tell you last night but I forgot. Fiona arrived last night.’
Jo tensed. ‘Fiona?’ she queried. ‘I didn’t realise she was coming here so soon—’
‘She wouldn’t have been if this were purely social. I hired her services,’ Gianni told her, his satisfaction over that decision patent. ‘She’ll take care of everything at Ladymead for us. It’s win-win for everyone. She’ll put Ladymead in some glossy-magazine spread when it’s all finished and it’ll be great PR for her and attract more business.’
Jo was so stunned by that quickly delivered speech that her jaw literally dropped.
Gianni slanted his charismatic grin, even white teeth visible, dark golden eyes glittering with amusement. ‘I’ve finally found out what it takes to silence you...one little surprise—’
Jo relocated her tongue. ‘I would hardly call Fiona alittlesurprise,’ she murmured stiffly. ‘Have you already arranged this with her?’
Gianni smiled even wider. ‘I’m very efficient,’ he told her smoothly. ‘Our estate manager informed me earlier that she picked up the keys for the gate lodge yesterday, so she’ll already have moved in.’
‘She’s going to be living in the gate lodge?’ Jo gasped in astonishment.
‘With the job she’s going to be doing for us, she needs to have somewhere to stay nearby. Why not the lodge? Until we have a head gardener hired, the property is sitting vacant. I would have offered her a room here but we need our privacy,’ Gianni advanced cheerfully. ‘It wouldn’t kill you to say thank you at this point.’
An expectant silence spread from his side of the table.
‘Thankyou?’Jo repeated loudly, still reeling in shock from his announcements. ‘Are you kidding me?’
Gianni raised a brow as he set his espresso cup down. ‘Why would I be kidding you,cara?Fiona is the answer to all our prayers. You’ll get to be a lady of leisure and I’ll get to see a lot more of you. Sybil will be able to return to her rescue animals with a clean conscience. It will suit everyone.’
‘But you didn’t consult me!’ Jo exclaimed rawly. ‘You didn’t evendiscussit with me!’
‘I organised it for you that day you were at the jumble sale and I meant to raise the subject with you but I forgot about it again,’ Gianni told her with a distracted air as he checked his watch and sprang upright. ‘Sorry, time for me to depart.’
His long stride got him as far as the threshold of the dining room when he turned back to her. ‘I arranged for you to meet Fiona for coffee at eleven today at that new place in the village...what do you call it?’
With difficulty, Jo snatched in oxygen to breathe. ‘As You Like It?’
‘I thought it would be less formal for a first meeting and that you might not want to invite her here until you get to know her better,’ Gianni advanced, in the same helpfulI’m only thinking of youtone.
Jo was keeping a very tight hold on her temper. She wanted to scream at him but she wouldn’t let herself when he was about to leave. ‘Didn’t it cross your mind that Sybil and I mightwantto take care of Ladymead ourselves?’
Gianni shrugged a broad shoulder. ‘Well, it’s too late now. Fiona turned down another job to come here at short notice. She’s doing us a favour. Why are you making such heavy weather of this? I assumed you’d be grateful for Fiona’s help.’
As he moved on into the hall, Jo flew upright and followed him, her cheeks flushed, her eyes bright. ‘Ladymead is my home and you went beyond your remit when you organised Fiona without consulting me or my family about it,’ she told him frankly.
‘First of all,thisis your home now.’ Gianni frowned, taken aback by her attitude when his only thought had been to release her from the burden of overseeing repairs in a dirty, dusty environment. ‘You don’t get to be consulted unless you’re an expert...and you’re not an expert in any field relating to that building, aside from its history. I make the major decisions about Ladymead because I’m paying for the work being done,’ he framed with succinct bite. ‘And I’ll have to pay more if any mistakes are made, particularly the kind of mistakes that might fall foul of the rules to protect a listed building and would have to be rectified before the authorities will certify the work.’