The Italian Millionaire’s Marriage Read online

  That was how they communicated best, she realised, in silence. And surely they could find a way forward to a future together?

  As the dance ended people crowded around them, laughing expectantly.

  ‘Come on, tell us…’

  ‘Time you set the date…’

  Marco’s arm was still about her waist. Harriet felt it tighten suddenly.

  ‘We’ve set the date,’ he said. ‘The first Saturday in September.’

  Her gasp of shock was drowned in the cheers. The Calvani men pressed forward, shaking Marco’s hands, Lucia beamed, Dulcie threw her arms around Harriet, squealing, ‘I’m so glad, I’m so glad.’

  ‘That’s great!’ Guido yelled. ‘I can’t wait to see this. I suppose we are invited?’ he clowned.

  To everyone’s astonishment Marco clowned back. ‘Dulcie is, you’re not.’

  A roar of laughter went up at this very moderate joke which sounded like a major witticism coming from such an unexpected source.

  ‘Kiss her,’ somebody yelled. ‘Kiss the bride!’

  Harriet felt as though the ground had shattered beneath her. One moment she’d been dazed to the point of granting Marco anything, the next he’d given her a grandstand display of everything about him that antagonised her. It was as though the temperature had dropped to freezing in a split second and she was in a new world, bleak, unforgiving. As unforgiving as her own heart.

  She let him kiss her. There was no choice in this gathering. What she had to say must wait.

  But waiting meant enduring the count’s delighted insistence that the wedding must take place in Venice, at the family home. It meant watching Lucia put her head together with Liza, making plans. She didn’t know how she got through the next hour.

  Lucia’s joy was the hardest to bear. She made it clear that she loved Harriet, and nothing would make her happier than to see her married to her son. Harriet tried to give her a hint.

  ‘He shouldn’t have done it like that,’ she said desperately. ‘Announcing it to the world before telling you, but you see we’re not-’

  ‘Oh, my dear, I understand. You can’t blame Marco if his feelings ran away with him. Besides, he told me last night.’

  ‘He did what?’

  ‘Just before you went out together, he said he’d been thinking of that Saturday, and he would finalise it with you.’

  ‘And what did he say when he returned?’ Harriet asked, her eyes kindling.

  ‘I was asleep by then, and of course today has been so hectic I haven’t even had the chance to tell you how pleased I am.’ She kissed her cheek. ‘Now we’re all going to be so happy.’

  She fluttered away, unaware that she’d filled Harriet’s heart with anger and dismay.

  The cake had been eaten, the bride and groom had slipped away, the band played its last number.

  ‘My uncle asks that you join the rest of the family in saying goodbye to our guests,’ Marco told her. ‘He considers you one of us.’

  She turned smouldering eyes on him. ‘I wouldn’t hurt your uncle for the world,’ she said. ‘But you and I have to talk.’

  ‘There’ll be time for that later. I know how it looks, but just be patient.’

  His hand on her arm urged her away. The count made her stand beside him, his wife on the other side. It was a place of honour, but it also showed her how fast the net was closing about her.

  When the last guest had gone she took firm hold of Marco.

  ‘Now!’ she said.

  He let her draw him into the next room. ‘Let me talk first,’ he said.

  ‘You’ve talked enough. Now you’ll listen. How dare you do that! I told you last night that I wasn’t ready for this. Didn’t you hear me?’

  ‘Yes, I heard you, but you didn’t make any sense. Harriet, you know as well as I do that you’re going to say yes eventually. We’ve both known that ever since-well, for some time. Why drag it out? All right, we fight sometimes, but we also go well together.’

  ‘We don’t go well together, because I could never “go well” with a man who rolls over me like a juggernaut.’

  ‘All right, I’m sorry for the way I did it, but can’t we put that behind us-?’

  ‘And then do what? Go on where? To a wedding? Marco, I’m further from marrying you now than I’ve ever been. Please think about that before you make any more plans without consulting me.’

  She walked away from him and up the stairs to her room. She had never been so angry in her life.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  M ARCO’S secretary looked in alarm at the determined young woman who stood before her.

  ‘Does Signor Calvani have anyone with him just now?’

  ‘I don’t see what-?’

  ‘Does he?’ Harriet repeated.

  ‘No, but he has a board meeting in five-’

  ‘Don’t worry, I won’t be that long,’ she tossed over her shoulder as she opened the door to Marco’s office.

  He was engrossed in a computer screen and looked up in alarm.

  ‘What’s wrong? Has something happened to my mother?’

  ‘No, I came to see you because this is the one place you can’t run from me. You’ve been avoiding me since we returned from Venice.’

  ‘Two days. You know I have work to do-’

  ‘And you know what I want to say. I’ll say it quickly so that you’re not late for your meeting.’

  His lips tightened. ‘This isn’t the time-’

  ‘How much time does it take to say goodbye?’

  ‘Can we talk about this later?’

  ‘No, I fell for that one before. Not again. Besides, there’s nothing to talk about. Goodbye! Finito. Basta! End of story. I can’t marry you. This so-called engagement is over.’

  ‘Don’t be absurd,’ he said impatiently. ‘The invitations have started to go out.’

  ‘And I’m upsetting the organisation, the ultimate crime, I know. I’m sorry, but some things are more important than getting the books straight.’

  Marco came out from behind his desk. He was pale but he spoke calmly. ‘Look, you’ve been in a strange mood recently, and maybe I haven’t been very sympathetic. And I shouldn’t have announced our engagement like that, but it just seemed the right thing to do. I’m sorry. I’ll do better in future.’

  ‘Listen to yourself,’ she cried. ‘You talk like a man punching keys on a computer. This one for “sorry”, this one for “do better”, and out comes the right answer. Life doesn’t work like that.’

  He made a sound of impatience. ‘Do these trivial details matter?’

  ‘They’re not trivial. They’re the way you are. Everything labelled and in its little box. I’ve just told you that our engagement is off, and you’re angry because I’ve stepped out of my box into one you don’t know how to label.’

  ‘I’m angry because I don’t understand a word of this. Nothing you say is reasonable.’

  ‘Is it unreasonable of me to want to marry a man who cares about me, the way you don’t?’

  He took a quick breath and seemed about to say something, but checked himself. When the words did come out they were calm. ‘I thought we’d-managed to grow closer-’

  ‘Not close enough. You’re possessive, and you try to organise every step I take, but that isn’t love.’ She sighed. ‘Well, maybe you’re right and I have been unreasonable. I should have worried about love much sooner, shouldn’t I? Like, the day we met. I’m sorry. I didn’t know myself very well then. I do now, and different things matter. Love matters.’

  ‘Love?’ he echoed.

  ‘Oh, Marco, you sound as though you’d never heard the word. There’s no love between us, is there?’

  He was very still now. She had his whole attention. ‘It would seem not,’ he said quietly. ‘How stupid of me not to have understood.’

  ‘It’s my fault. I misled you, made you think I could live without it, like you.’

  He regarded her sardonically. ‘And when did this suddenly become so imp
ortant?’

  ‘Only recently. Do you remember the night of my father’s party?’

  ‘Do you?’ he flashed unexpectedly.

  ‘Vividly. But it’s no good is it? You can’t create what isn’t there. I’ve tried to play it your way, but I can’t do it, and it would only break us apart in the end.’

  ‘Maybe you give up too easily.’

  ‘I thought you prided yourself on being a realist. You’re not being realistic now. It’s not going to get any better, Marco. We’re both what we are. It’s too late to change.’

  She watched his face, longing to see in it some softening, some hint that even now he could search his heart and discover that he didn’t want to lose her. Behind her brave front she knew that a loving word from him would have sent her joyfully into his arms. But no word came.

  Instead, into her mind slid the memory of something he’d said in one of their discussions about business, ‘It’s like playing poker. When the deal collapses you keep a blank face.’

  The deal was collapsing and his face was as blank as death. His complexion was even a little grey, and there was a strange, withered look in his eyes, as though the life was draining out of him.

  ‘Yes,’ he said at last in a voice of stone. ‘It’s too late for change. I thought-well, I was wrong. You can’t change just because you want to.’

  In the silence that followed she had the strange feeling that he was at a loss, something she’d never known in him before.

  ‘What happens now?’ he asked at last.

  ‘I’ll leave as soon as I’ve spoken to your mother. When I get back to London-’

  ‘London? You were talking about staying in Rome.’

  She surveyed him ironically. ‘You actually remember that conversation? I thought you pressed the “Delete” button the way you do when something doesn’t suit you. I did mean to stay in Rome, but I see now that I can’t. I have to get right away from you. When I’m home I’ll arrange to repay the money I owe you.’

  ‘There’s no rush. I promised you easy terms-’

  ‘No, I want to pay it all at once.’

  ‘You can’t afford a lump sum, we both know that.’

  ‘I’ll manage it somehow. It’s better if I’m not in your debt.’

  Suddenly his face wasn’t impassive any more, but twisted with bitterness. ‘You can’t wait to be rid of me, can you?’

  The injustice was like a knife in her heart, making her reply with equal bitterness to cover her pain.

  ‘I thought you’d be glad to see me gone, now that you know the proposed merger isn’t coming off. Cut your losses and don’t waste time over a dead deal. Your own principles, but useful for me, too.’

  She heard the quick intake of breath before he said, ‘I seem to have taught you more than I knew. I can recall a time when you were too generous to say something so cruel.’

  ‘Marco-’

  ‘You’re quite right of course. Whatever made me think it worthy of discussion?’

  ‘Nothing is worth discussing any more. It’s over. There’s no more to be said. You’d better hurry, you have a meeting.’

  She almost ran out of his office, not knowing whether to cry or hurl something at him. How dare he confuse her with that air of suppressed pain! She knew him too well to be fooled. It was no more than his trick of putting her in the wrong. But right now she couldn’t cope with it.

  Telling Lucia was the hardest part, although the older woman was understanding.

  ‘I always knew there was something wrong,’ she sighed. ‘Even in Venice I sensed it. But I suppose I saw only what I wanted to see. I’m afraid Marco gets that from me.’ She squeezed Harriet’s hand. ‘What happened?’

  ‘It’s very simple. Marco and I made a business deal, but I found I couldn’t stick to the terms. My feelings got all tangled up, the very thing we agreed wouldn’t happen.’

  ‘But he wants you so much-’

  ‘Yes, he wants me, as he’d want anything that he’d decided suited him. But it’s not enough.’

  ‘Are you saying that you love him?’

  ‘It’s not as simple as that,’ she said, on her guard, remembering that Lucia would probably report all this to her son. ‘How can you love a man who doesn’t need to be loved?’

  ‘Every man needs to be loved, and Marco perhaps more than the others, because he fights it so hard.’

  ‘Yes, he fights it, and I can’t get past that. I don’t want to spend my life fighting.’

  ‘Can’t I say anything to persuade you?’

  Harriet shook her head. ‘The hardest thing will be leaving you. You’ve been wonderful to me.’

  ‘We mustn’t lose that,’ Lucia said eagerly. ‘Now that we’ve found each other you must promise to stay in touch.’

  Harriet promised, and the older woman put her arms around her. There were tears in her eyes. ‘When will you leave?’ she asked sadly.

  ‘There’s a plane at noon tomorrow.’

  ‘I’ll go to the airport with you.’

  Harriet was half inclined to leave behind her new clothes. It didn’t seem right somehow to take from a woman she was disappointing so badly. But Lucia insisted that every last gown was packed.

  ‘Cara Etta,’ she said earnestly, ‘Forgive me for saying this, but I couldn’t bear for you to go back to looking as you did before.’

  Over supper they tried to cheer each other up, and not admit that they were both waiting for Marco. Lucia glanced at the clock several times until Harriet said, ‘He isn’t coming, you know.’

  ‘Of course he’s coming. He won’t let you go without saying goodbye.’

  ‘He doesn’t need to say goodbye. He’s already “signed me off”.’

  ‘Don’t start to talk like him, my dear. That way of seeing the world hasn’t made him happy.’

  ‘I don’t know what would make him happy,’ Harriet sighed. ‘I just don’t think it’s me.’

  ‘And you?’ Lucia asked. ‘Could you have been happy with him?’

  ‘Can one be happy without the other being happy?’ was the only answer Harriet could make.

  A heavy ache was pervading her, as though her chest housed a stone where her heart should be. As the hands of the clock ticked on she faced the fact that Marco was going to let her go without another word, and despite her defiant words about “signing off”, that hurt badly.

  In a fine temper, Lucia called Marco’s home and then, receiving no reply, his mobile phone.

  ‘Don’t try any more,’ Harriet begged. ‘It’s better as it is.’

  Yet she still lay awake most of the night, listening for the sound of his car. When it didn’t come she repeated to herself that this was the best way, for she knew she was weakening. She was in too much danger of throwing herself into his arms and promising anything if only she could stay with him. And that would be fatal. There could be no self-respect in living with a man who knew that you would abandon pride to be with him.

  She managed to sleep for a couple of hours, waking with an aching head. Neither she nor Lucia had more than black coffee for breakfast. The hands of the clock were creeping to the moment when she must leave the villa for ever. Leave Marco for ever. No, she had already left him.

  There was the sound from the gravel outside.

  ‘The chauffeur must have brought the car around,’ Lucia said. ‘Oh, Etta dear, remember you promised to keep in touch.’

  ‘I promise,’ Harriet said huskily, and was enveloped in Lucia’s embrace. Then she felt her hostess stiffen in her arms, and Lucia let out a glad cry.

  ‘Marco!’

  He was standing in the doorway, very pale but composed. Harriet held her breath.

  ‘You came!’ Lucia was overjoyed.

  ‘Naturally. Did you think me so lacking in manners that I would allow our guest to depart without seeing her off? I’ll drive Harriet to the airport myself.’

  Her heart was beating strongly from the moment of blazing hope, but she forced herself to be calm. This w
as Marco’s good manners. No more.

  He waited in the car while she made her farewells to Lucia. She was still fighting back tears when she got in beside him. Marco studied her face, his own revealing little. Then his gaze dropped to her left hand, bare now.

  ‘I didn’t know you were coming,’ Harriet said, so I’ve given me ring to your mother.’

  He swung the car out on to the Appian Way. ‘This has hurt my mother very much.’

  ‘I know, but we had a long talk and I think she understands.’

  ‘That’s more than I do.’

  ‘And I’ve promised to stay in touch with her.’

  ‘Good. Then I may hope to hear some news of you.’

  ‘What was that?’ A heavy truck had passed, drowning out his words.

  ‘I said I may hope to hear some news of you,’ he repeated in a harsh, desperate voice.

  ‘Yes, well-I’ll be in touch about the money.’

  ‘I’ve told you there’s no rush for that. We can arrange instalments-’

  ‘No, it’s better to sort it all out now.’

  He swore violently under his breath. ‘You’re a hard and stubborn woman.’

  Stubborn, yes, she thought. But hard? Perhaps she was just growing a defensive shell against the pain of leaving him. It would work out for the best in the end, she told herself, especially as he was showing her his least amiable side. It really would stop hurting. One day.

  At the airport he stayed with her until check-in, and politely made sure that she had her ticket, passport, boarding pass.

  ‘I’ll go straight through,’ she said. ‘No need to hold you up. Thank you for bringing me.’

  ‘It was no trouble.’

  ‘Good luck with the partnership.’

  ‘What-? Oh, yes. Thank you. Well, I mustn’t waste time. Goodbye, and the best of luck for the future.’

  He shook hands with her and strode away without looking back. He found his car, got in and switched on the engine. Then he switched it off again, dropped his head on his arms on the steering wheel, and stayed like that until somebody knocked on the window to see if he was all right.

  ‘Why did you make me seek you out here, my son?’ Lucia looked around at Marco’s apartment which seemed even more austere and dismaying than ever. ‘It’s been two days now. Why didn’t you come home and talk to me?’