His Final Bargain(9)

'Kathleen is going to be away for the next month,' she said. 'But I  think it might be nice if Papà gets her to call you on the phone while  she's away.'

'Does she miss me?'

'I'm sure she does,' Eliza said. 'Now, let's get those feet of yours  still and relaxed, otherwise my story won't come out to play.'

'How long are you staying?' Alessandra asked.

Eliza glanced at Leo but his expression was as blank as a mask. 'Let's  not worry about that just now,' she said. 'The important thing is that  you get back to sleep. Now, let's see how this goes. Once upon a time  there was a little dog who loved to chase … '

'Asleep?' Leo asked as Eliza joined him downstairs a few minutes later.

'Yes.' She came over to where he was standing and looked up at him with a frown. 'Why on earth didn't you tell me?'

'I did tell you.'

'I meant right from the start.'

'Touché and all that.' He gave an indifferent shrug of one broad shoulder before he took a sip from the drink he was holding.

Eliza gave him a cross look. 'You should've told me at the beginning.'

'Would it have influenced your decision in taking up the post?'

'No, but I would've liked to know what I'm dealing with. I could've  prepared myself better.' I could have got all this confusing emotion out  of the way so I could think straight.

'Yes, well, life doesn't always give one the chance to prepare for what it has in store.'

Tell me about it, Eliza thought. 'She's a lovely child but clearly a little headstrong.'

His look was brittle. 'Are you saying I'm a bad parent?'

'Of course not,' she said. 'It's very clear you love her as any good  parent should. It's just that it seems she's in control of everyone who  has anything to do with her. That's very stressful for young children.  She needs to know who is in charge. It's especially important for a  child with special needs. How long has she-?'

'She's been blind from birth.'

Eliza felt her heart tighten all over again. It was a cramped ache deep  in her chest. 'That must have been a huge blow to you and your wife.'  How she hated having to say those words-your wife.

'It was. Giulia never quite got her head around it. She blamed herself.'

'It seems to me every mother blames herself no matter what the circumstances.'

'Perhaps, but in Giulia's case it was particularly difficult. She thought she was being punished for setting me up.'                       
       
           



       

'Did you blame her?' Eliza asked.

His brows came together over his dark eyes. 'Of course not. It was no  one's fault. Alessandra was premature. She has retrolental hyperplasia.  It was previously thought to be caused by an excess of oxygen in  perinatal care but there's divided opinion between specialists on that  now. It's also called ROP. Retinopathy of Prematurity.'

'Can nothing be done?' Eliza asked. 'There are advances happening in  medicine all the time. Surely there's something that can be done for  her?'

'There is nothing anyone can do. Alessandra can only distinguish light from dark. She is legally and permanently blind.'

Eliza could hear the pain in his voice but it was even more notable in  his expression. No wonder those grey hairs had formed at his temples,  and no wonder his eyes and mouth were etched with those lines. What  parent could receive such news about their child without it tearing them  apart both physically and emotionally?

'I'm so very sorry. I can't imagine how tough this has been for you and will no doubt continue to be.'

'I want the best for my daughter.' His expression was taut with  determination. 'There is nothing I won't do to make sure she has a happy  and fulfilled life.'

Eliza wasn't quite sure what role she was meant to play in order to give  Alessandra the best possible chance in life. The child had suffered  enough disruption already without a fly-in, fly-out nanny to confuse her  further. What Alessandra needed was a predictable and secure routine.  She needed stability and a nurturing environment.

She needed her mother.

The aching sadness of it struck Eliza anew. How devastating for a little  toddler to have lost the most important person in her life. How  terrifying it must be for little Alessandra when she woke during the  night and wanted the comfort of her mother's arms, only to find a series  of paid nannies to see to her needs. No wonder she was difficult. Even a  sighted child would be hard to manage after suffering the loss of her  mother.

'What do you hope to gain for her from my period as her nanny?' she asked.

'You're an excellent teacher. You understand small children.'

'I've never worked with a vision impaired child before, only a profoundly deaf one,' Eliza said.

'I'm sure you'll find a way to make the most of your time with her,' he said. 'After all, I'm paying you top dollar.'

She frowned. 'It's not about the money.'

A dark brow arched over his left eye. 'No?'

'Of course not.' She pulled at her lip momentarily with her teeth.  'Don't get me wrong-I'm happy about your donation to the school, but I'm  not in this for what I can get for myself. I'm not that sort of  person.'

'Is your fiancé rich?'

Eliza felt the searing penetration of his cynical gaze. The insurance  payout from the accident, along with the modest trust fund his late  father had bequeathed Ewan had provided a reasonably secure income for  the rest of his life. Without it, he and his mother, who was his chief  carer, would have really struggled. 'He has enough to provide for his … I  mean our future.'

'What does he do for a living?' Leo asked.

She looked at him numbly. What could she say? Should she tell him about  Ewan's accident? Would it make a difference to how he thought of her?  Explaining the accident would mean revealing her part in it. She could  still see Ewan's face, the shock in his eyes and the pain of rejection  in every plane and contour of his face. He had looked as if she had  dealt him a physical blow. Even his colour had faded to a chalk-white  pallor. For so long since she had wondered if she could have prepared  him better for her decision to end things. It must have come as such a  dreadful shock to him for her to announce it so seemingly out of the  blue. She had been struggling with their relationship for months but  hadn't said anything. But over that time she had found it harder and  harder to envisage a future with him. Her love for him had been more  like one would have for a friend rather than a life partner. Sex had  become a bit of a chore for her. But she had felt so torn because he and  his mother were the only family she had known after a lifetime of  foster home placements.

And he had loved her.

That had always been the hardest thing to get her head around when it  came to her final decision to end things. Ewan had loved her from the  first moment he had helped her pick up the books she had dropped on her  first day of term in sixth form after she had been placed with yet  another foster family. She'd been the new kid in town and he had taken  her under his wing and helped her to fit in. Being loved by someone had  been a new experience for her. Up until that point she had always felt  out of place, a burden that people put up with because it was the right  thing to do for a kid in need. Being loved by Ewan had made her feel  better about herself, more worthy, beautiful even.                       
       
           



       

But she hadn't loved him the same way he loved her.

'He has his own business,' she finally said, which was in a way not quite a lie. 'Investments, shares, that sort of thing.'

Marella came in just then, which shifted the conversation in another direction once they had taken their places at the table.

Eliza didn't feel much like eating. Her stomach was knotted and her  temples were throbbing, signalling a tension headache was well on its  way. She looked across at Leo and he didn't seem to be too hungry  either. He had barely touched his entrée and took only a token couple of  sips of the delicious wine he had poured for them both. His brow was  furrowed and his posture tense. She sensed a brooding anger in him that  he was trying to control for the sake of politeness or maybe because he  was concerned Marella would come in on them with the rest of their meal.

'You blame me, don't you?' Eliza said into the cavernous silence.

His eyes were like diamonds, hard and impenetrable. 'What makes you say that?'

She drew in a sharp breath as she put her napkin aside. 'Look-I  understand your frustration and despair over your daughter's condition  but I hardly see that I'm in any way to blame.'

He pushed back from his chair so quickly the glasses on the table  rattled. 'You lied to me,' he said through tight lips. 'You lied to me  from the moment we met.'

Eliza rose to her feet rather than have him tower over her so  menacingly. 'You lied to yourself, Leo. You wanted a wife and you chose  the first woman to fit your checklist.'

'Why did you come on to me in that bar that night?