Dante's Unexpected Legacy(36)

                Grace smiled wryly. ‘He was very taken with her, love.’

                Rose shivered. ‘I know. But it makes no difference.’

                ‘Are you really sure about that?’

                ‘Yes, Mother.’

                ‘But surely you must have considered telling Dante about Bea once you knew his marriage was over?’

                ‘I didn’t know it was over. I always refused to listen if Charlotte so much as mentioned Dante’s name. You knew, obviously.’

                Grace nodded. ‘We met him on a visit to Charlotte, but when I tried to tell you about it you shut me up. I understand why now.’

                Rose sighed. ‘I wish I had listened to you, Mum. I put my foot in it with Dante the first night we met up again in Florence. When he suggested taking Charlotte’s place at dinner I practically spat at him and asked if he was bringing his wife along. What a sweetheart I can be when I try!’

                Grace gave her a hug. ‘I love you just the same.’

                * * *

                When her mother went home Rose got down to work, and did her best to lose herself in it, but it was hard now Grace knew the truth. During the years when the identity of Bea’s father had been her own private secret she had hidden it away like an oyster covering a grain of sand. But now it was a secret no longer. She hadn’t thought to swear her mother to silence about it, and the relationship between Grace and Tom was so close he would soon know something was wrong and coax the truth out of her. Then probably Charlotte would be the next to know and now she was pregnant and hormonal she was unlikely to be calm and reasonable about it. Rose shuddered as she imagined Charlotte storming into Dante’s house, demanding that he did the right thing—whatever that was.

                * * *

                Revelations apart, life went on for Rose in much the same way as usual for the next few days, except for nights disturbed by thoughts of the passionate encounter with Dante, and the fact that her daughter’s parentage was no longer a secret. Grace assured her she had not confided in Tom, but found that very hard.

                ‘It’s your secret, not mine,’ she said unhappily. ‘I still think you’re wrong to keep the truth from Dante. It would be much better to tell him yourself rather than have him discover it some other way.’

                ‘There is no other way. You’re the only one who knows, Mum.’ Rose frowned. ‘Though you said Tom commented on the likeness. Has he said anything?’

                ‘Yes. But I told him he was imagining it, that Bea’s blue eyes came from my grandmother.’ Grace pulled a face. ‘I just loathed lying to him, Rose.’

                ‘But I’m grateful you did. Think about it! A single mother working hard to provide for her daughter suddenly informs wealthy scion of famous Fortinari wine-producing family that he’s her child’s father.’ Rose’s mouth twisted cynically at the thought.

                But later than night, when Dante rang after she was in bed, Rose was sorely tempted to tell him the truth when he asked after her little daughter. ‘You must be so proud of her. And how is her beautiful mother?’ he asked in a tone so caressing Rose’s toes curled under the covers.

                ‘Working hard, but otherwise fine. How are you, Dante?’

                ‘I am also working hard, but I cannot sleep for wanting you in my arms again. I need so much to see you, tesoro, but for a while this is not possible. I have seen Charlotte,’ he added, ‘and she is very well.’