The Italian's Rightful Bride Part 3

It was Freddy Manton, beaming at her.

'I looked for you later but you'd vanished,' he said. 'I've been heartbroken ever since.'

'You don't look very heartbroken.' She laughed.

They began seeing each other. He was good company, merry, slightly f.e.c.kless, but kind-hearted. She was lonely, and managed to persuade herself that her affection for him would be enough. They married while she was still at college and she became pregnant immediately, only just managing to get her exams out of the way before rus.h.i.+ng to the hospital for Billy's arrival.

To do Freddy justice, he really tried, managing to be faithful for a whole four years, a record for him. For Billy's sake they stayed together for another four years, until his infidelities exasperated her beyond bearing.

The divorce was amicable. If she'd been really in love with him their parting would have hurt more than it did.

She knew almost nothing about Gustavo in the intervening years. Recently she had chanced to pick up a newspaper bearing the announcement that Their Excellencies Prince and Princess Montegiano had been blessed with a son and heir, their first child since the birth of their daughter ten years previously.

So the marriage had flourished, she thought. She had done the right thing.

It worked out well for both of us, she mused now. Life's gone well for me too. I'm in control, settled, even happy. My job is great, I'm friendly with my ex. I have a son I adore and who thinks I'm 'OK'-a big compliment from a ten-year-old boy. I'm one of the lucky ones.

So why did I return here?

She looked out at the quiet streets of Tivoli, then past them to the vista that led to Rome.

Because after all these years, it's time to exorcise the ghost and be free to get on with my life.

She reached the gates of the Montegiano estate to find them exactly as she had last seen them. The gatekeeper called to the house and received a message to let her in. Driving the long road to the house was like a rewind of her previous experience.

She chatted calmly to Billy, refusing to think of what would happen in a few minutes when she would see him for the first time in twelve years.

Crystal would be there and she would see them together, husband and wife. The sight of their domesticity would be the final piece in the puzzle.

At last the huge palazzo palazzo came in sight, just as she remembered it, broad white marble steps sweeping up between tall, elegant columns. As her car neared an elderly man came out and stood waiting, a smile of welcome on his face. came in sight, just as she remembered it, broad white marble steps sweeping up between tall, elegant columns. As her car neared an elderly man came out and stood waiting, a smile of welcome on his face.

'I'm Professor Carlo Francese,' he said, shaking her hand. 'We spoke on the phone. I'll be your host while Gustavo's away.'

He wasn't here. Her heart skipped a beat.

But it was good, she told herself. She needed no distractions.

Billy and Carlo took to each other at once, she was glad to see.

'You're in the Julius Caesar room,' Carlo explained. 'It's always given to the guest of honour.'

She almost said, Yes, I know. The room had been hers when she was last here.

It had changed a lot, and she could see that money had been spent reviving it. It now looked new, s.h.i.+ning, and, to Joanna's eye, less charming. Billy had been given the room next door, which was equally grandiose and reduced him to fits of laughter.

After a wash and brush-up she knocked on his door. He joined her, looking around him at the gorgeous hallway, with its marble columns and frescoed ceiling.

'What a place!' he said with an appreciative whistle.

'It is, isn't it?' she agreed. 'What's up, Billy?' He had turned suddenly.

'I just thought I saw someone on the stairs. There.'

They looked just in time to see the pale face of a little girl staring up at them with hostility. Then she vanished.

Joanna went downstairs, braced to see Crystal, but there was no sign of her. Carlo ushered them into a magnificent room with tall windows overlooking the lawns, and immediately plunged into talking about the foundations that had been discovered.

Billy listened, asking some intelligent questions, to Joanna's pride. But then something seemed to distract him, and he slipped away.

'We saw a little girl upstairs,' Joanna ventured.

'That would be Renata,' Carlo said at once. 'Gustavo's daughter.' He sighed. 'Poor child.'

'Why poor? Is she jealous now that she has a little brother?'

Carlo looked around and dropped his voice.

'Gustavo's divorce has just become final. The little boy wasn't his, and his wife has taken the child to live with her lover.'

Joanna drew in a sharp breath.

'His-you mean Crystal?'

'Yes; do you know her?'

'We met briefly many years ago, but I haven't stayed in touch. I didn't know this.'

'As you can imagine, it's. .h.i.t Gustavo very hard, so we don't talk about it. But I thought you should know the situation.'

'Yes,' she said slowly. 'Yes, I'm glad you warned me.'

Carlo didn't seem to notice anything odd in her manner.

'When you're ready we'll go and see the dig,' he said. 'It's about a mile away.'

'I can't wait.'

As soon as she saw the discovery Joanna knew she had come to the right place. Her personal feelings didn't matter. This was the find of the century, and it had had to be hers. to be hers.

From the corner of her eye she could see Renata and Billy. They seemed to have established perfect rapport, and she was showing him around the site, pointing out places of interest. After a while they strolled away together.

She spent the rest of the day with Carlo, becoming more convinced that this really was the great lost palace Gustavo had spoken of. At dinner that evening she met Laura, a smiling, middle-aged woman who looked after Renata. To Joanna's amus.e.m.e.nt Billy turned his charm on her and within minutes Laura was lost.

'You and Renata seem to get on well,' she said to him as they climbed the stairs later that night.

'She's been telling me about Prince Gustavo,' Billy said, frowning. 'Honestly, Mum, he's a monster. You know her mother's gone?'

'Yes, Carlo told me.'

'Apparently he drove her out and wouldn't let Renata go with her. He actually grabbed hold of Renata and kept her here by force. She says he's full of hate and he's taking it out on her.'

'Billy, I don't believe that,' she said at once.

'Why?' he asked.

'Well-'

'Why not, Mum? You always said, "Stick to the evidence." Where's the evidence that Renata's wrong?'

She was caught, since she could hardly say that she'd known Gustavo and this wasn't like him. And how well had she known him?

'Sometimes I wish I hadn't brought you up to be so logical,' she sighed.

'Too late now.'

'Let's wait and hear the evidence for the other side,' she countered.

'That's right, Mum. When he gets here you ask him what really happened.'

'Go to bed,' she said firmly. 'And stop being cheeky.'

He gave his wicked grin. 'It's too late for that too,' he said, and vanished into his room before she could think of an answer.

Within two days Joanna had a.s.sembled a crack team, all of them people who had worked with her on other digs. Plunging into work was a relief. It took her mind off Gustavo and the situation she'd found.

She resisted the picture Billy had drawn, of a man so enraged that he cruelly penalised his child. But she, more than anyone, knew how he'd adored Crystal, and how her desertion must have devastated him. What had bitterness and misery done to him?

She could hardly believe that Renata was Gustavo and Crystal's child since she looked like neither of them. Her little face lacked any hint of her mother's beauty, being round and plump. Joanna, who remembered her own childhood, when she'd felt plain and dull, sympathised with her.

But Renata's eyes were intelligent. She would sit with Billy and his mother, sharing their snack, but saying nothing until suddenly, like the bursting of a dam, she would make an awkward attempt to reach out.

'Billy told me about his father,' she blurted out once. 'He says you're divorced.'

'Yes, we are,' Joanna said gently.

'My parents are divorced.'

'I've heard.'

'Billy says his father's always calling him on his cellphone.'

'That's right. Several times a week.'

'My mother calls me every single day,' Renata said defiantly. 'She bought me a cellphone just for the two of us, because she says she couldn't get through the day without talking to me.'

'That's a lovely thing for her to say.'

'Sometimes she cries because Papa won't let us be together. But Mamma says one day she's going to come and rescue me, and then we're going to run away to the end of the world, where Papa can't find us.'

Her voice had been growing more wobbly as she spoke, until she was forced to stop. Joanna saw her turn away to wipe her eyes, and wondered if she was weeping because of her father's unkindness or because she knew it was all a fantasy. She felt helpless.

Billy had listened to this, saying nothing, but watching Renata with kindly eyes. At last he drew her away, giving his mother a brief nod, as if to say that he would take over now.

He's years older than ten, she thought with a wry smile.

As the days wore on the heat mounted until the afternoons were almost unbearable.

'All right, guys, time for a break,' she called out one day when it was nearly one o'clock. 'Take a siesta; come back when it's cooler.'

They headed for the house, eager to find shade. As often before, Joanna didn't go with them. She loved being left alone with the work, not doing anything, simply absorbing the past.

She brushed earth from her clothes, thankful that she'd worn wide canvas trousers that let in some air to cool her legs. Over them she had a man's s.h.i.+rt, tied at the waist with one of Freddy's old ties that she kept for the purpose. Her head was protected by a vast-brimmed canvas hat.

She loved to stretch out in the warmth, even though someone as fair-skinned as herself had to work hard not to be burned. Years of working in the sun had turned her a permanent light brown, and bleached her hair.

She kicked off her old canvas shoes and lay flat on the ground, arms flung wide, head obliterated by the huge hat. She supposed she looked like a hobo, but she didn't care. This was bliss.

Beginning to doze, she was only vaguely aware of a car stopping nearby. She sensed rather than heard someone looming over her then dropping to one knee.

'Go away,' she muttered. 'I'm asleep.'

'Excuse me...'

The man's voice was polite but firm, and there was power in the hand that grasped her shoulder. Reluctantly Joanna moved the hat aside and looked up.

At first she couldn't see properly. His head blotted out the sun, throwing his face into darkness.

'Who are you?' she asked, grumpy at being disturbed.

But she knew before he replied. Her vision was clearing and the face gazing quizzically down at her was the one she would never forget.

CHAPTER THREE.

SHE sat up, studying him. He was older, heavier, with a careworn look that did not belong on a man of only thirty-four. She saw that much in an instant, also the touch of premature grey at the sides of his head. sat up, studying him. He was older, heavier, with a careworn look that did not belong on a man of only thirty-four. She saw that much in an instant, also the touch of premature grey at the sides of his head.

He was frowning at her. 'Have we met before?'

'We did once,' she told him gently. 'A long time ago.'