Her New Year Baby Secret(15)

'Have you told her?' Sophie asked softly. 'Told her how you feel. That you're not ready.'

His mouth quirked into a smile; if only it were that easy. 'Many times.  But she only listens when she wants to. Hears what she wants to hear.'

'It's not good to let misunderstandings grow, let resentments fester.' There was a quiet certainty in Sophie's voice.

'I think we understand Mamma too well, Bianca and I. She was orphaned  young, raised alone by her grandparents in an old palazzo. They had a  title, an illustrious ancestry but no wealth. When she married my father  she wanted security and a large family. Together they built up an  empire to rival that of the early Santoros, but they had to settle for a  small family. After Bianca she just couldn't conceive again. So she  turned her attentions to grandchildren, to building the dynasty she  always dreamed of. She thinks she knows best what will make us happy. I  don't hurt her on purpose, but we have such different ideas on the way I  should live.'

Hurt was inevitable. Every time he said 'no'. Every time he chose his  own path. But if he didn't, then what had it all been for? The  hard-fought-for independence, the ten years of estrangement, the  knowledge he would never make it up with his father.

The knowledge that his father might even yet have been here, still  alive, if Marco had been a different kind of man. More pliable,  obedient.

'So you live in a different country and seldom come home?' Sophie was  shaking her head. 'I don't know, Marco, it's a solution, but it doesn't  sound like a good one. Not at all.'                       
       
           



       

And the worst thing was, Marco knew she was right. But what other choice did he have?





CHAPTER SEVEN

'DID YOU AND Marco have a good day yesterday?' Bianca's eyes were sly as  she looked at Sophie in the mirror. 'Mamma was disappointed you didn't  come back for supper. She was so looking forward to getting to know you  better.'

Sophie circled Bianca, checking every seam and every hem. The dress was  gorgeous, far bigger and more ornate than she would have chosen  personally but perfect for a wedding as imposing as Bianca's promised to  be. But Bianca's new curves spilled out of the silk ballgown's  sweetheart neckline, turning it from daring to borderline indecent, and  it was a struggle to get the zip up at the low back-in fact Sophie had  decided against forcing it, not wanting to snag the delicate fabric.

'Lovely, thanks. We spent the morning at the palace, and then we had  lunch with your mother, so I hope she wasn't too disappointed we missed  supper, and then Marco took me out onto the lagoon for the afternoon.'  He'd pointed out some of the more notable islands, promising to bring  her back to visit one or two before the end of their trip, and then he  had taken her to dine at an island hotel. Sailing in through the private  water gate to be escorted up to the glassed-in terrace with views  across to Venice itself had been the most romantic thing Sophie had ever  experienced. If only she hadn't felt so tired and her appetite hadn't  been so capricious. And if only she hadn't replayed Marco's words over  and over in her mind. You can see why I asked you here.

She wasn't sure why those words had pricked her. She had been under no  illusions about his sudden invitation; Marco hadn't brought her here  because he'd been struck down with instalove-and she'd accepted for that  very reason. But to have him spell out so baldly that she was a mere  ploy to keep his mother happy was a little bruising to her pride.

But then again, after one lunch with his mother she fully accepted his  reasons, sympathised with them even. Only, it would be nice to be more  than convenient, to really matter to someone... She stopped still,  staring down at Bianca's elaborate train. Where had that thought come  from? She was happy on her own, remember? Not at all interested in a  relationship.

But maybe one day. If she chose better, found someone who valued and  cherished her the way her friends were loved and cherished, then maybe  she could take that risk. Because if she did spend her life hiding from  the possibility of love, did spend her life thinking she wasn't good  enough, then Harry won after all, didn't he?

'Right.' Sophie blinked back unexpected, hot tears. What on earth was  wrong with her? It was time to remember why she was here and not on a  plane back to London. 'There's no way this dress is going to fit the way  it is. Luckily your hips and waist have only increased by the smallest  amount, so it's a reasonably easy fix, no major restructuring needed,  but we do need to do something about the neckline.' She hesitated,  searching for the right words. 'I could re-bone the bodice, but I still  think you'll look more top-heavy than you intended. So what I'm  proposing is that in addition to letting out the seams and adjusting the  zip I make you a lace overdress. It's up to you if you just want it for  your top or to cover the skirt as well. Look, I'll show you.' She  picked up a gossamer-thin scarf and deftly twisted it around Bianca,  pinning it in place.

'You need to imagine this is lace,' she warned Bianca. 'This is just to give us an idea.'

Sophie stepped back and pursed her lips as she fixed her design in her  head. 'The beading on your skirt is lovely. It would be a real shame to  cover it up with lace,' she decided. 'Let's go with a lace bodice. I'll  find buttons to match your beads, tiny ones, and it can button up your  back.' She shot Bianca a reassuring smile. 'I'll sew those on at the  very last minute to make absolutely sure it fits.'

Bianca stared at herself in the mirror, hope flaring in her expressive dark eyes. 'Will it really work?'

'Absolutely.' In fact the more Sophie thought about it, the surer she  was. 'I think it will be stunning. I can give you capped sleeves, little  straps just off the shoulder-or we could go really regal with  full-length sleeves, so decide what you'd prefer. The most important  thing is making sure the lace matches the exact colour of the dress. Not  all ivories are created equal. Do you have a swatch I can use?'

Bianca nodded, her eyes bright with tears. 'Thank you, Sophie. I can't  begin to tell you how much I appreciate this, how much it means that you  haven't just fixed my problem but made my dress even better.' She  caught a tear with her finger, wiping it away, pulling a watery smile as  she did so. 'If there is anything I can do to repay you...'                       
       
           



       

'No repayment necessary, I promise. I'm happy to do it. Let's get you  out of the dress before you spoil the silk with your tears and I'll take  a look at the zip. It only needs a few millimetres, I think, to be  comfortable. I might not even need to add an insert. Unpicking the  stitches and redoing it might be enough.'

It took a few minutes to manoeuvre Bianca out of the many folds of the  dress, but eventually Sophie hung the layers of net and tulle and silk  back up, smoothing the silk out with careful hands as she figured out  the best way to deal with it. 'I wonder if I could get my hands on a  tailor's dummy,' she pondered. 'If I put a dummy on a dais, I would find  it easier. There must be somewhere I could source that from. I'll draw  up a list of all we need: lace, silk, thread, buttons.'

'Sì, none of that should be a problem. The best place for lace is  Burano, one of the islands. I'll ask Marco to take you. It's very  pretty. I think you'll like it.'

'Sounds perfect.' Sophie turned to look at Bianca. The Italian girl sat  on her unmade bed, a robe loosely drawn around her, the magnificent mane  of hair spilling around her shoulders, tears still shimmering in her  eyes.

'I'm sorry, Sophie, I'm not usually such a mess. The thing is...' she  took a deep breath '... I didn't eat too much over Christmas, nor am I  that stressed about the wedding, not really. It's just that... I'm  having a baby and I haven't told anyone yet.'

'You're what? But that's wonderful. No wonder you've gone up over two  cup sizes and barely gained a centimetre around your waist! How far  along are you?'

'The doctor says ten weeks. I only realised at the end of last week.  I've always been irregular, so I didn't notice any changes there, but I  was always crying, or suddenly really hungry and then really nauseous.  I've been so tired, light-headed. And I can't even cope with the smell  of coffee, let alone the taste. Honestly, for someone with so many  qualifications I can be very stupid, but I just didn't realise what was  wrong. It wasn't like we were trying.'

Sophie perched onto the bed next to Bianca and patted her arm a little  awkwardly. 'But this is good news, surely? After all, you're about to  get married.'

'Sì, it is, at least, it will be, when I get used to it. I just thought we'd have time to be married before starting a family.'