Bedded For The Italian's Pleasure. Anne Mather
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to think you’d changed your minds.’
All the same, when he’d touched her hand she’d reacted as if she’d accidentally touched a hot wire. The heat that passed from his hand into hers shocked her to the core. Then she’d looked up into eyes that were as dark and brooding as the storm clouds massing over Tregellin and known that, whatever happened, she was already out of her depth.
Of course, she’d snatched her hand away, rather rudely, and Cary had come charging over, like some mad bull defending his mate. ‘What’s going on?’ he’d demanded, laying a possessive hand on Juliet’s shoulder. ‘What have you been saying to my fiancée? As you apparently knew we were coming, I thought you’d have had the decency to stay away.’
Rafe Marchese didn’t seem at all perturbed by Cary’s bluster. ‘It’s good to see you, too, Cary,’ he’d said, as faultlessly polite as before.
‘Well…’ Cary had been indignant. ‘Grandmama told me how you’re too busy for her these days. Spending time with your artsy-craftsy friends, was how she put it. But I might have known you’d be around when I was here.’
Rafe’s lips had tilted humorously. ‘I shouldn’t take what the old lady says too seriously,’ he’d remarked, his eyes lingering on Juliet’s now burning face. ‘You know she likes to play us off against each other. If you weren’t such an easy mark, she’d never get away with it.’
‘Oh, and you know her so well,’ Cary had sneered, but Rafe had only lifted his shoulders in a self-deprecatory shrug.
‘I’d say I see more of her,’ he’d declared mildly. ‘Whether that constitutes knowing her better remains to be seen.’
‘Well, don’t think I don’t know what you’re trying to do,’ Cary had continued. ‘You think that, because I live in London and you live here, you’ve got the advantage.’ His hand had squeezed Juliet’s shoulder. ‘Once we’re married, I think you can kiss any chance of changing her mind goodbye.’
Dear God, Juliet had wanted to die, she thought now as she unpacked her suitcase. For heaven’s sake, it was bad enough pretending to be Cary’s fiancée without him talking about them getting married as if it were going to happen in the next few weeks. She had no idea what Rafe Marchese had thought. If his mocking smile was anything to go by, he was used to Cary’s bombastic behaviour and he didn’t take offence from it. But she wished she hadn’t been a part of it all the same.
The altercation had been thankfully brought to an end by the advent of a small dog. It was a little yapping Pekinese that had made straight for Cary and dug its teeth into his trouser leg. ‘Damn stupid mutt!’ Cary had exclaimed, kicking out angrily, sending the dog scuttling across the yard.
‘He’s actually quite intelligent,’ Rafe had remarked coolly, bending to rescue the little animal, massaging its ears with a long-fingered brown hand that was lightly covered with dark hair. Juliet had felt a momentary envy for the dog, which was ridiculous. But then Cary had hauled their bags out of the car and headed for the house and she’d been obliged to follow him.
She guessed now that he hadn’t wanted to argue with the animal. It was Lady Elinor’s dog and Juliet doubted she’d appreciate learning that her grandson had kicked the Pekinese. It was to be hoped Rafe Marchese wouldn’t tell her. Though after the way Cary had behaved, she wouldn’t blame him if he did.
Meeting Lady Elinor again had been a bit of an anticlimax after the confrontation outside. She was a lot older than Juliet remembered, naturally, but she was still an intimidating figure. If anything, Juliet would have said that Rafe resembled her far more than Cary. He had her height and that same air of cool breeding.
During lunch, Juliet had had to fend off quite a number of questions about her failed marriage to David. The fact that it was only nine months since her divorce was finalised had elicited the opinion that in her position Lady Elinor wouldn’t have been in any hurry to rush into marriage again.
Of course, Cary had come to her rescue, assuring the old lady that the reason Juliet’s marriage hadn’t worked was that she’d married the wrong man in the first place. ‘Hammond was only after her money,’ he’d said contemptuously, and Juliet had been glad Rafe Marchese hadn’t been there to see the faintly amused expression that had crossed Lady Elinor’s face at his words.
But at least it had given her a breathing space and, when the meal was over, she’d been relieved to hear her hostess bid Josie show their guest to her room. Evidently the old lady had wanted to spend some time alone with her grandson and Juliet prayed he wouldn’t make any more promises he couldn’t keep.
With her unpacking completed, Juliet contemplated the apartment she’d been given. It was much bigger than the rooms she was used to. Even the rooms at her father’s house couldn’t have competed with this. But the whole place was incredibly shabby, the high ceilings badly needed attention and the thick paper that must have once decorated the walls was now scuffed and peeling from neglect.
It was no wonder, really, if Josie was the only help Lady Elinor had. She was almost as old as her mistress, and Juliet doubted she had time to dust all the rooms, let alone attend to any repairs. Everything here was on a grand scale, including the furniture, and the bathroom next door sported a claw-footed tub and a lavatory that was elevated on a small dais.
Still, from the brief bounce she’d permitted herself on the bed, the mattress was comfortable. And the sheets were clean and smelled sweetly of a lavender-scented rinse. It was only for three nights, she assured herself. And Lady Elinor was unlikely to have anything more to say to her. Perhaps she could borrow Cary’s car and drive into the nearest town. She had little money to do any shopping, but at least it would keep her out of the way.
The room was at the front of the house and she had a magnificent view over the river estuary. At present the tide was out and there were dozens of birds strutting over the mudflats, looking for food. She saw gulls and waders; she even recognised a pair of sandpipers. She was no expert, but she guessed you could get really interested in stuff like this if you lived here.
It was still only about half-past four and, deciding she couldn’t stay in her room until suppertime, Juliet thought she’d go in search of the housekeeper. Perhaps Josie would tell her a little more about the history of the house—or the history of its occupants, she conceded, aware that she was more interested in Rafe Marchese than she was in anything or anyone else.
She rinsed her face at the crackled marble basin in the adjoining bathroom and then regarded her reflection in the spotted mirror. She still looked flushed, but that was probably just the cold water she’d washed with. Clearly Lady Elinor didn’t believe in heating the water during the day.
In her bedroom again, after assuring herself that the cream silk jersey top and matching linen skirt she’d worn to travel in would do for her explorations, she reapplied eyeliner and mascara, brushing a bronze gloss over her generous mouth. She wasn’t beautiful, she thought, but her heart-shaped features did have a certain appeal. Thankfully her hair, which was naturally curly, didn’t require much more than a brush running through it. It bobbed just below the level of her shoulders and, although it was some time since she’d been able to afford highlights, there were still golden streaks in its honey-brown mass. Or were they grey? she fretted, leaning closer to the mirror. After what she’d been through, she wouldn’t have been surprised.
She made her way to the head of the stairs and started down, keeping a wary eye open for either Cary or her hostess. She would prefer not to run into either of them just yet and, as the gloomy hall appeared to be deserted, she headed swiftly towards what she hoped was the kitchen. And found Rafe Marchese lounging on a corner of the pine table, sharing a pot of tea with the housekeeper.
Juliet didn’t know who was the most surprised, herself or Josie. ‘Why—Miss Lawrence,’ she said awkwardly, getting up from her place at the table to face her. ‘I was just about to bring up your tea.’
‘My tea?’
Juliet now saw the tray that had been prepared and left on one of the