Not Just a Convenient Marriage (12 page)

As she slipped out into the corridor the house was silent. Charlie and Mario were out having fun. Pietro was already asleep. The housekeeper remained at home for his sake but she was out of sight in the kitchen as Sally hurried down the stairs and slipped through the connecting door to the hotel.

At once she was in a crowd of revellers and was able to make her way to the ballroom without attracting notice.

As soon as she entered she looked for Damiano. It was hard because the ballroom lights were kept low, increasing the dramatic atmosphere. She had to search before she found him. His back was to her, but he wore the black velvet suit. She edged towards him, then halted with shock.

He was holding a woman close to him, his right hand stroking her neck, then drifting down to caress her breasts, his fingers easing their way into the material.

So that was it! That was what his restraint amounted to. He didn’t need to sleep with her because he was fooling around with other women. She wanted to scream, run away, fly at him, tear off his mask and slap his face.

If only she could decide which.

But while she was still struggling with temptation, the man moved so that his left hand came into view, and suddenly all questions were answered.

Damiano had a scar on the back of his left hand, and she was just close enough to see that this man had no such scar. This wasn’t him, but a man wearing a very similar costume.

For a moment she was dizzy with relief as the nightmares that had danced before her faded. But where was he? She must identify him quickly without further mistakes. She glided through the crowd, frantically searching.

She saw him at last. The mask covered most of his face but he was holding up a glass of wine high enough for her to just make out the scar.

Now things were working out well. For her plan to succeed they must each recognise the other, but pretend otherwise, at least at the start.

Time for action.

He glanced in her direction and she seized a glass from a passing waiter, holding it up, approaching him to clink glasses, then turning away again.

‘Wait!’ He detained her with a hand on her arm. ‘You’re surely not going to leave me just like that.’

‘Aren’t I?’ she said in a teasing voice. ‘I just came to say hello.’

‘Hello. Not goodbye.’

‘Perhaps. Perhaps not. I have other hellos to say.’ She indicated a group of men nearby.

He moved closer. ‘Let me see if I can change your mind about that.’

Taking her glass, he set it aside with his own, and slid a hand around her waist.

‘Hello,’ he said.

She smiled. ‘Hello.’

As they glided around the floor he held her too close for propriety. Looking up, she found his mouth close to hers, the lips touched with a faint smile that might have been designed to tempt her.

Had he recognised her? Did he think he was dancing with a stranger? Or did he suspect the truth and was trying to decide? Of the three she decided the third would be the most intriguing.

‘Who are you?’ he murmured.

She made her laugh as teasing as possible.

‘Come, come, you’re a Venetian. You know that I’m everybody and nobody. And does it really matter which?’

‘It does to me.’

She laughed again. ‘If you don’t know who I really am, it’s because you’re afraid to know.’

She said the last words with great significance, and felt his clasp tighten.

‘Why should I be afraid?’ he asked.

‘Only you can answer that. Some things we don’t know because we don’t want to know them.’

‘You make me sound like a coward.’

‘Not a coward, just a man like every other man on earth.’

‘So you despise us all?’

‘No, but I watch you with caution.’

He was silent for a moment. Then suddenly he said, ‘I know another woman who does that. She too has things she doesn’t want to know.’

‘About herself, or about you?’

‘Both, I suspect. And I can’t decide whether to tell her.’

‘But do you know her secrets?’

‘I know secrets she doesn’t suspect.’

‘Perhaps it’s the same with her.’

‘I often think it is,’ he said in a low voice.

The waltz came to an end, and she drew away from him. She needed time to think. Damiano’s words sounded as though he saw past her mask to the woman within. Deep inside some instinct told her that they were talking a secret language known only to the two of them.

‘Dance with me again,’ he said. ‘Dance with me
now.
’

‘Not now. Later, when I’m ready.’

She turned and departed before he could become more demanding. Other admirers clamoured for her attention and she went through them one by one, conscious of Damiano keeping her under permanent observation, until at last he stepped in and reclaimed her.

‘My turn,’ he said, taking firm hold and guiding her onto the dance floor. After a few turns he said, ‘You haven’t told me your name.’

But he had recognised her. She was confident of that now. A strange and exciting chance had opened before her. They could talk openly, yet behind the protection of their masks. It sounded impossible, but in the magical air of Venice nothing was really impossible.

‘Your name,’ he repeated.

‘I have several names. Tonight I am Mysteria, the woman of many masks. Haven’t you sensed that already?’

‘Perhaps. Maybe I don’t know whether to believe it. It’s so confusing.’

She gave a soft laugh, calculated to entice him.

‘If it’s confusing, that’s a reason to believe it.’

‘Now you’re trying to confuse me even more.’

‘Why would I want to do that?’

He had danced her into a corner, turning her so that she was shielded from everyone.

‘Kiss me,’ he commanded.

‘In these masks? Impossible.’

He tightened his grip but it was, as she said, impossible to get close enough.

‘Do I know you?’ he breathed. ‘Are you—could you be—?’

‘I could be anyone you want me to be. But who do you want?’

‘I want—I want—
you!
’

‘But I am nobody. I don’t exist.’

‘Don’t say that.’

‘After tonight we will never meet again. I will vanish into thin air. That other woman will still be there, and you’ll have to decide if we’re the same person. And you will wonder if we ever met.’ She gave a slight chuckle. ‘You’ll probably feel that it’s best if we didn’t.’

‘Why do you laugh at me? Does it amuse you to confuse me?’

‘Yes,’ she admitted. ‘A man is always amusing when he’s at a disadvantage.’

‘Damn you!’ he whispered.

Before he could say or do more someone called his name. Furiously he turned to them, forcing himself to engage in polite conversation. When he turned back she had gone.

Watching him from the doorway, Sally could see his air of desperation as he looked this way and that. At last he grew close enough to see her, and came to a sudden sharp halt.

Sally raised her hand and beckoned to him, retreating through the open doorway. He followed fast, catching up, gazing down at her, breathing heavily.

‘Where are you going?’ he demanded.

‘Wherever you want to take me. I wonder where that could be.’

‘You know where it is. I’m taking you where you belong, to my room, to my bed. Unless—’ His confidence seemed to weaken. ‘Unless you do not wish to go there with me.’

She smiled. ‘Do you think that is my wish?’

‘I don’t know what I think. I don’t know anything about anything any more.’

‘Then why don’t we find out?’ She indicated the way ahead. ‘Go on, lead me. After all, you’re in command. You lead, I follow.’

What little she could see of his mouth twisted wryly. ‘We both know that’s not true.’

‘Who could possibly dictate to you?’

‘There is one woman who could.’

‘Lead on.’

She held out her hand. He took it and led the way through the hotel until they reached the connecting door. In a moment they were through and on their way up to the bedroom.

Sally had a blissful sensation that fate had blessed her plans. Everything was going well. She had no doubt that Damiano had recognised her.

He knew this was Sally, but which Sally? How many might there be? Her disguise had freed them both from the prison of their usual selves. Now they could each make love to a ‘stranger’ without being faithless to each other.

As they entered their bedroom he reached out to the wall switch, but she restrained him.

‘No,’ she murmured. ‘We don’t need light.’

After a moment he nodded. ‘I don’t need to see you,’ he agreed.

‘And why should you want to? You already know the things that matter about me.’ She moved closer so that he could feel her breath against his mouth. ‘Otherwise you wouldn’t be here.’

‘And you?’ he asked. ‘Don’t you want to know who I am?’

‘But I do know who you are. You’re the man who came when I beckoned.’

‘Does every man come at your command?’

For answer she gave a soft chuckle. ‘What do you think?’

‘I think every man follows you because he can’t help himself.’

‘What do the others matter? What does anything matter except that we are here, now, together?’

She stripped off her own mask, then reached up to his and slowly pulled it away. In the semi darkness she could just see his face enough to be sure it was Damiano, and knew he could see hers. But for the moment they should keep silent about their mutual recognition and enjoy the advantages of strangers.

She touched his mouth lightly with her fingertips, and would have drawn them away but he seized her hand, pressing it against his lips, kissing it again and again. Her response was a soft chuckle.

‘Why are you laughing?’ he demanded. ‘Was that what you meant me to do? Am I dancing to your tune?’

‘Do you think you are?’

‘I don’t know,’ he said hoarsely.

‘Would you mind?’

After a long moment he whispered, ‘No.’

‘I think you would. No man likes a woman to have too much power.’

‘That depends how she uses her power.’

She gave a soft laugh. ‘No, it doesn’t. No woman can be trusted. Never forget that.’

‘Do you say that I shouldn’t trust you?’

‘That’s your decision. If you take the risk of trusting me—I can do as I like.’

‘Stop it,’ he said hoarsely. ‘Stop trying to turn me against you.’

‘But you can always send me away. You’re the one in control now. Aren’t you?’

‘Yes,’ he said, but his voice shook.

‘Just throw me out, say you never want to see me again, and I’ll—’

The last words were silenced by his mouth on hers. It was what she’d wanted but she was still taken by surprise. The force and urgency of his kiss told of a man driven to the edge of control, ready to step into uncharted waters.

Excitement rose in her. She too was venturing into uncharted waters and this was a journey they would take together.

As he kissed her his hands began to move over her body, pulling at the laces that fixed her dress, pushing it from her shoulders until at last it fell to the floor. She responded by working on his coat, helping him wrench it off. As if given a signal he seized her up in his arms and strode to the bed.

‘Is this our fate?’ she whispered. ‘Are you set on imposing your will on me?’

‘I impose nothing.’ There was a tinge of anger in his voice. ‘I’m doing what you always meant me to do, and we both know it.’

‘I’m not sure that I do know it. You might have to persuade me.’

‘Right.’
His mouth was on hers again, forceful but caressing at the same time, sending excitement pulsing through her so strongly that she could barely stand. She moved her own lips against him, seeking to inspire him with thrills as great as her own, sensing his reaction in the trembling of his body.

She had longed for this, dreamed of it. Now she seemed possessed by something beyond herself. Victory was in her grasp and she must seize it before the chance slipped away. She wasn’t sure who it was who ripped open his shirt buttons. It might have been herself, but the action held more of the other self who had taken her over.

That other Sally ran her hands over his bare chest, relishing the feel of his muscles, his smooth skin, the tension of desire that throbbed through him.

Now she was naked, and so was he. It was too dark to see but she could feel the length of his body against her, feel the caresses that seemed to invade her everywhere, until at last he took possession of her completely, and the whole world changed.

A long gasp broke from her as she sensed first the power of his desire, then her own uncontrollable response. For a few moments madness consumed them both, and they clung to each other, seeking pleasure and comfort in the same moments.

For Sally it was as though everything had been drained from her. She was no longer herself but a new woman, open to the world, to this man, to a wealth of new experiences and joys waiting to be discovered. And it was the same with him. Every instinct told her that as she held him close to her, refusing to release him, now or ever.

She had claimed him. And now he was hers.

CHAPTER TWELVE

I
N
THE
PALE
dawn light Damiano looked down at the woman on the pillow, overwhelmed with emotion at seeing the face he had expected. The night before had ushered him into a new universe, one that was a mystery to him. In a moment she would awaken and he would see in her eyes the answer to the question that tortured him.

Her eyes opened, and she smiled.

‘Hello,’ she said.

‘Hello.’

‘It’s like meeting as strangers. You’ll never look the same to me again.’

‘We’re not strangers,’ he said at once. ‘I knew who you were as soon as I saw your mouth. But what about you? My face was almost completely covered. How could you have recognised me?’

‘Because of this,’ she said, taking his hand and running her finger over the little scar. ‘I knew you as soon as I saw that scar, in the first few minutes.’

‘You knew?’ His voice was tense. ‘You knew it was me all the time?’

‘Or I wouldn’t have made love to you.’

‘I’ve wanted you too much for too long. Last night you took the decision right out of my hands.’

‘Good. You kept me waiting too long. I know we made a deal but things changed, and it was time to renegotiate.’

‘What—exactly—changed?’ he asked, as though nervous of the answer.

‘I found that I wanted you more than I’d ever dreamed would happen. You began to matter to me in—all sorts of ways.’

Still she didn’t speak of love, hoping that he would say it first.

‘It’s the same with me,’ he said. ‘At first our marriage just seemed something I did for Pietro. I was really marrying you for myself, but I couldn’t admit it. It would have meant that I was losing control.’

‘Yes, you like to be in command, don’t you? Why does that matter so much?’

‘I could say that it’s the most efficient method of getting what I want,’ he said with a touch of wry humour. ‘If a man can count on getting his own way, he’d have to be a saint not to. And I’m no saint, as I don’t need to tell you.’

‘No, you certainly don’t need to tell me. But trying to take command doesn’t always make you the victor, and it can turn people against you.’

‘I am what I am. I can’t change now.’

‘But why? I know you’ve got businesses to run, but I feel it’s more than that.’

He was silent for a moment before saying quietly, ‘If I told you what makes me this way you might not believe me.’

‘Try.’

Again he was silent and she wondered if he meant to answer at all, but at last he uttered one word.

‘Fear.’

‘Did you say fear?’ she asked, wondering if she’d heard him right.

‘Yes.’

‘You’re right, it’s hard to believe. People are afraid of you, not you of them.’

‘It’s not people who scare me, but life. When things seem at their best there’s always something nasty waiting just around the corner. A wise man takes control as soon as possible, so that he has a defence.’

‘But does he?’ she asked gently. ‘The disasters waiting around the corner are always the last thing you expected.’ She touched his face. ‘You’re thinking of Gina, aren’t you? You were so happy, and then she died.’

She heard him take a long breath. He was gazing at her as though he’d seen an astounding revelation.

‘How right I was to want you,’ he said. ‘There’s nothing I couldn’t tell you, because you understand everything perfectly.’

‘It wasn’t hard to work out,’ she said. ‘I knew that Gina had been your life, and in some ways she still is.’

‘But it wasn’t just her loss. It was the way it happened, dying in childbirth when things might have been so different. Keeping control seemed the only way to feel safe. But then there was you and suddenly everything was different. With you I could believe again that the world can be a good place.’

She smiled gently. ‘Shall we make it a good place again now?’

He took her in his arms. ‘I think that’s a wonderful idea.’

This lovemaking was as beautiful as the last, but with the difference that now they knew each other better, knew that they were set on a road that would lead them to happiness.

Afterwards he slept, and she lay watching him. His face was totally relaxed and contented, like a man who had found peace and happiness at last.

And that was what he had told her. He hadn’t spoken of love, but he’d said she made the world a good place. They had found each other in desire but that alone was not enough. For a true marriage there must be the closeness of the heart.

But now his words implied that love was there, waiting for them.

‘I can be patient,’ she whispered. ‘Our time is coming.’

She leaned down to drop a light kiss on his mouth. He didn’t awaken, but a smile transformed his face. Somewhere, deep inside the place where he was now, he knew she had kissed him, and was happy.

Happy, she thought. Have I ever been as happy as I am now? Will I ever be as happy again? Yes. When we admit our love to each other my life will reach its peak.

On their first morning she’d ventured to give him a gentle kiss as he slept, then backed off quickly so that he shouldn’t discover her. Now she no longer had to fear, and she could allow herself the luxury of laying her face against his, sending him a silent message with her lips.

At once he began to smile and a soft chuckle broke from him.

‘You just don’t give up, do you?’ he murmured.

‘Nope. That’s why I always win.’

‘You think you won?’

‘Well, I didn’t lose.’

‘Perhaps we both won.’

‘Yes,’ she murmured. ‘Oh, yes.’

The next few minutes were a delight. If she could have stayed there with him all day she would gladly have done so, and her heart and senses told her he felt the same.

‘I suppose we’ve got to get up,’ she murmured at last, wrapped in his arms. ‘There’s so much to do.’

‘
We’ve
got a lot to do,’ he said. ‘But it’ll have to wait until tonight.’

It was time to remove the masks of passionate lovers, and assume those of respectable parents. It was hard but they managed it at breakfast, each taking a polite interest in Mario and Charlie’s activities at the hotel, but giving most of their attention to Pietro.

Afterwards they both joined him as he walked the short distance to school.

At the gate they waved him goodbye, then looked at each other. Alone at last.

‘There’s a café just along there,’ Damiano said.

They found the little place in the next alley, ordered coffee and sat sipping it contentedly.

‘Why was Pietro giving us those funny looks?’ Damiano asked.

‘We’ve never both seen him to school before. I think he’s wondering if something is different.’

‘Oh, yes, something’s different.’ His eyes met hers. ‘Everything is different.’

She nodded.

‘You’re a clever, scheming woman,’ he said, speaking with a smile that robbed his words of any offence. ‘Last night—you set the whole thing up, didn’t you?’

‘Mmm, I may have anticipated a few things.’

‘A few? You conned me into thinking you wouldn’t be there, then you turned up pretending to be someone else. Was I not supposed to recognise you?’

‘You were bound to recognise me after a few minutes. My mouth, my voice—but you didn’t have to admit you knew me. It made us both free of the past and free for the future.’ She chuckled. ‘I was getting fed up with you being so restrained and virtuous. All those weeks we’d been married and you never—well, I reckoned it was about time I taught you a lesson.’

‘You certainly did that,’ he said with feeling. ‘But did you really blame me for not making love to you?’

‘Of course I did. It was insulting.’

‘But it was your doing.’

‘Me? Did I ask you to keep your distance?’

‘In effect yes, when you proclaimed that you didn’t love me.’

‘I said that to Imelda, to shut her up. Surely you realised that?’

‘Yes, and if you’d left it there I might not have worried. But you also said you were perfectly safe from anything I could do to make you love me. You sounded so confident. I knew you weren’t marrying me for love—’

‘Any more than you were marrying me for love,’ she reminded him. ‘It was all for Pietro.’

‘Not quite all. Mostly it was for him, but there was something about you that I wanted, right from the start. You reached out to him so warmly that I found myself wondering how it would be if you reached out to me, then finding that I wanted you to do that. But you were always so cool and controlled—’

‘Because I thought that was what you wanted. We agreed how it should be.’

‘We said the right words, but things don’t always turn out according to the words.’

‘I know,’ she said. ‘You say all sorts of things, like how certain you are that you’ll never care for someone, but then—’

‘But then?’ There was a new note in his voice that might have been hope.

‘Then—things happen,’ she said carefully. ‘People start to look different, and you wonder if they really are different, or whether they’re just wearing another mask.’

‘So you try on a few different masks of your own, and see how they react,’ he said. ‘And then?’

‘Then you know a little more about them and about yourself.’

‘And what do you do with your new knowledge?’ he mused. ‘Perhaps you use it to catch your husband at a disadvantage.’

‘No, you use it to find out what he wants.’

He regarded her intently. ‘And when you know that?’

‘It can take time to be sure.’

‘Don’t play with me, Sally. I gave myself away very completely last night. I knew it was you and nothing could have stopped me from making love to you, especially when I understood that was what you wanted.’ His voice became suddenly uneasy. ‘It was, wasn’t it?’

‘Oh, yes, it was,’ she assured him.

He reached out to take her hand. ‘I’m glad it all happened. I should have known I could rely on you to find the way. I’ve been so confused. When I started to—’ He hesitated.

Started to love me, she thought. Please say it.

‘When I started to—have feelings for you I tried to deny them. I felt guilty.’

‘Because of Gina.’

‘Yes. She gave me everything. It felt like a betrayal to love anyone else. But now—’

‘It’s not a betrayal,’ she said urgently. ‘Because you haven’t stopped loving her, and I hope you never will.’

‘You actually hope—?’

‘You still owe her your love and loyalty, and I’ll never try to change that. You have us both, and you always will. Damiano, you have nothing to feel guilty about. Nothing.’

It might have been a risk to speak to him in such a way, but her instincts told her the opposite was true. By confirming his link with Gina she was setting him free to love herself.

‘Do you mean that?’ he murmured. ‘That I’ll always have you both?’

‘Yes, I mean it. Can’t you tell?’

‘I can believe it if you say it, and I want to believe it with all my heart.’

‘Then believe me. I mean it and I always will. The path ahead is one that the two of us, with Gina and Pietro, will travel together.’

He didn’t answer in words, but he took her hand and lowered his head to lay his lips against it.

‘Thank you,’ he whispered.

‘People are staring at you,’ she said.

‘Let them stare. Let the whole world know how I feel about you.’

But how is that? she thought. Say the word love. Please say it.

‘Perhaps we’d better go,’ he said.

They walked home by the Grand Canal. Spring was reaching its height and the sun was shining as never before. Watching it glitter on the water, she felt as though the whole world was full of sunshine.

* * *

In the weeks that followed it seemed as though every part of her life was climaxing in triumph. Charlie had settled into his hotel training better than she could have hoped.

‘He’s doing well,’ Mario told her. ‘Of course, the fact that two pretty young waitresses are sighing for him has nothing to do with it.’

‘At least he’s happy.’ She laughed.

Summer was coming. The beautiful city glowed. Every day there were new celebrations, often involving dances at the hotels. Not all of them were masked, but they usually involved fancy costumes.

One day there was a glamorous wedding in the hotel chapel, followed by a magnificent ball, to which Damiano and Sally were invited.

She wore the dazzling red and blue dress that she’d worn before, but without the mask that had covered so much of her face. Instead she settled for one that only came down to the end of her nose, and left the lower half of her face free.

‘Good thinking,’ Damiano told her. ‘Otherwise I might forget who you are.’

‘Just try it,’ she threatened, laughing. ‘If you want to get thumped.’

‘Being thumped by you might be interesting. I must try it some time.’

They enjoyed a few dances together before separating to do their duty as hosts. Sally had a friendly chat with the bride before turning away and nearly colliding with a man in an Arlecchino costume and no mask.

‘I’m sorry,’ he said, steadying her. ‘That was clumsy of me.’

‘You’re English.’

‘Yes. And so must you be. I’m so glad to meet you. My Italian is terrible. I never understand a word anybody says. How do you manage in this country?’

‘I’m lucky enough to have an Italian husband. He translates for me when I need it.’

‘Is he here tonight?’

‘Yes, over there. He’s taken his mask off, and he’s standing by the door.’

Her companion glanced over to where she indicated. Then he tensed.

‘That’s your husband?’

‘Yes.’

‘Damiano Ferrone?’

‘Yes.’ His eyes were beginning to alarm her. More alarming still was the way he began to laugh.

‘What is it?’ she demanded.

‘So you’re Pietro’s stepmother. Well, well!’

‘What do you mean by that?’

‘How do you get on with that boy?’

‘Very well. He’s a lovely child.’

For some reason this seemed to amuse the man even more. Shaking with laughter, he rose and made his way out of the door into the garden. Annoyed, she followed him.

‘Is there something funny about me being fond of my stepson? My husband loves him and so do I.’