Dante's Unexpected Legacy(37)

                ‘I’m so glad for her and for Fabio.’

                ‘He is looking forward to fatherhood very much—Dio, how I envy him!’

                A wave of such guilt swept over Rose it was almost like pain. ‘You won’t when he’s walking the floor at night when the baby won’t sleep,’ she said, deliberately flippant, ‘or will he hire a nurse? How do you arrange such things in your world?’

                ‘My world is not so different from yours, Rose. Some people have such help, but if I had a child I would wish to be involved in the caring as much as possible.’

                ‘Sorry, Dante, I must go,’ she said breathlessly, ‘I think I hear Bea.’

                ‘Then run, little mamma. I will ring again soon. Buonanotte.’

                Rose laid the phone down and slid out of bed to check on Bea, who, as she’d known perfectly well, was fast asleep with Pinocchio and Bear. With her blond curls tumbled over her forehead and the unmistakable blue eyes closed, there was no resemblance to her father at all. But awake it was so marked to Rose that as Bea grew older she had been afraid that everyone involved who knew Dante would some day make the connection. Lying awake afterwards, Rose kept hearing the note in Dante’s voice when he spoke of envying Fabio. Her mother was right. It was time to tell Dante he was Bea’s father before someone, somehow, got in first. He deserved the truth from her whether he believed her or not.





                                      CHAPTER FIVE

                ROSE WAS GLAD to be abnormally busy the following week, with more travelling than usual. By the time she’d played with Bea once she’d got home, given her a bath and shared her supper, then read to her until she slept, Rose was too tired for soul-searching.

                Dante rang to inform her that the following week he would be in London again and would drive down to see her. ‘I shall take you out to dinner, Rose, but this time you may choose the restaurant,’ he assured her, and laughed softly. ‘And I will not come too early.’

                Rose braced herself. ‘Actually, Dante, perhaps you’d like to come to supper here this time. I’ll cook.’

                ‘Grazie, I would like that very much,’ he assured her, surprised. ‘But do not tire yourself with cooking. We can send out for a meal.’

                Rose rolled her eyes at a sudden vision of a designer-suited Dante surrounded by foil cartons. ‘I’ll think about it.’

                ‘I cannot sleep at night for missing you. Have you missed me?’

                ‘Yes,’ said Rose simply.

                ‘Ottimo, I am very happy to hear it. I will be with you at eight on Wednesday evening.’

                ‘Come earlier than that if you like.’

                ‘I like very much, but won’t your Beatrice object?’

                ‘No. Apparently she likes you much more than Stuart.’

                ‘And who,’ growled Dante, ‘is Stuart?’

                ‘An old school friend I go out with occasionally. Bea disapproves of him because he calls her “little girl”.’

                ‘So you allow this man to come to your house?’

                ‘No. But we’ve met him in the town a couple of times. He feels uncomfortable around Bea and she’s picked up on it.’