of the past few days had transformed her into a stranger-someone
in fact whom she would have preferred in other circumstances to
keep at arm's length.
Hypocrite, she told herself fiercely, as she turned away from the
window and picked up her robe and toilet bag. What point was
there in priding yourself on your virtue, if you had never been
tempted? And Juliet now knew only too well how fatally easy it
was to succumb to temptation once it was offered.
But for the arrival of his mother and stepfather, she would have
awoken this morning in Santino's arms to heaven knows what
regrets and recriminations.
Lost in her troublous thoughts, she wandered out on to the gallery
and almost collided with a figure leaving the bathroom.
'Oh, scusi.' She looked up startled, expecting to see the Signora, but
this was a woman she had never seen before, slightly younger than
the Signora but with the same cosseted well-groomed appearance,
and wearing an expensive negligee.
The woman did not reply to her hasty apology, but stood looking
Juliet over in silence, a half-smile curving her lips. But it wasn't a
friendly or a pleasant smile, the sort normally exchanged by house
guests in early morning encounters on the way to the bathroom. It
was all too knowing, and bore more than a trace of malice, and
Juliet felt defiant colour begin to rise in her cheeks as she suffered
this close scrutiny.
At last the woman moved away, taking a last searching look at
Juliet as she did so, her eyes lingering particularly on her hair. As
she passed with a whisper of silk, a cloud of exquisite perfume
hung on the air.
The same perfume gave the bathroom a more than usually exotic
atmosphere and Juliet did not linger over her bathing and dressing.
She felt uneasy, and knew that it was because of that encounter on
the gallery. She wondered who the glamorous stranger might be,
and when she had arrived on the scene.
She put on a pair of denim jeans and a sleeveless vest in a black
silky material and went downstairs. The salotto was deserted
except for Annunziata who was laying places for breakfast in the
dining alcove. She beamed expansively when she saw Juliet, and
seizing her arm led her to the great door with its massive iron studs
which stood open this morning to admit the faint breeze. Juliet
supposed with some amusement that she was being sent for an early
morning stroll to give an edge to her appetite, but she soon realised
her mistake. Annunziata was chattering away and gesturing towards
the shore. Looking down, Juliet saw a dark figure standing
motionless at the water's edge and realised with a painful thump of
her heart that it was Santino. Her impulse was to run back indoors
and take refuge in her room, but that would only be delaying the
inevitable. Sooner or later she would have to speak to him, to ask
him to help her get to Naples. She had no choice as her own money
and traveller's cheques were presumably still in Jan's apartment in
Rome.
Slowly she started down the steps, her hands instinctively balling
into fists at her sides as she moved, her nails digging painfully into
the palms as she struggled to maintain her composure.
She wished she could have emulated his own soundless approach of
the previous day, but of course, he heard her and half-turned
frowningly to see who was coming to disturb his reverie. His frown
did not lift when he saw her, and she felt absurdly hurt. It took an
immense effort of will to keep walking, slithering and sliding over
the stones until she reached his side.
'Buon giorno,' he said quietly.
He was wearing faded jeans, and an old blue shirt open almost to
the waist. A strong line of stubble along his jaw indicated that he
had not bothered to shave that morning, but neither this nor his
faintly bloodshot eyes and heavy scowl could detract in the least
from his sheer virile appeal and Juliet felt her stomach contract
painfully as she looked at him. Afraid that those penetrating tawny
eyes would read her thoughts, she hurried into speech.
'Signore, I-I need your help ...'
'And I need yours,' he interrupted flatly.
'Mine?' She stared at him, totally at a loss.
'You seem surprised.' He smiled without amusement. 'Did it never
occur to you when you embarked on this madness that there would
be repercussions?'
'Yes-no-oh, I don't know,' she said wretchedly. 'It didn't seem
important at the time. All that mattered was that Jan should marry
your brother if that was what she wanted.'
He looked at her broodingly. 'It is so important that this little sister
should have her own way in everything?'
'No.' Juliet swallowed. 'Although I suppose she is- rather spoiled.
She's so lovely, it's hard to say no to her,' she added defensively,
seeing his mouth curl cynically. 'She's always been so loved, so
admired all her life that perhaps she's-let everything get out of
proportion.' • 'Your loyalty far outweighs your common sense,
cara? he commented with a derisive smile. 'What you are saying is
that to satisfy the whim of a spoiled, selfish little bitch, other lives
must be thrown in chaos.'
'But it wasn't just a whim,' she protested. 'Mario had to marry her,
don't you see ...' Her voice tailed away when she saw the way he
was looking at her.
'Santa Maria,' he said very quietly. 'Is this something new?
Something that you have not told me, that even my mother has not
heard? Speak the truth!'
Juliet bowed her head miserably. 'Jan is going to have Mario's
baby,' she admitted in a low voice.
His face darkened furiously, and he turned away cursing under his
breath. There was a long silence.
'So there is to be a child,' he said at last, his back turned to her.
'When?'
'I don't know that,' she said. 'I wasn't meant to know.' Quickly she
explained her reasons for visiting Jan. 'When she told me about the
baby, I could quite understand why she wanted to get married as
quickly and quietly as possible,' she continued. 'That's why I
decided to help her. Mim-my mother-has always been so proud
of Jan-she's the success story of the family. It would break her
heart if Jan were to have an illegitimate child.'
He muttered something under his breath. 'I suppose there is a
certain irony in the situation,' he said after a moment or two. 'You
working to achieve this marriage to spare your mother's feelings,
and I working against it for the same reason. I was not of course
aware that you or your mother existed. According to the story your
sister told Mario, she was an orphan brought up in foster-homes
without a living relative.'
'Oh, no!' The appalled words broke from Juliet's throat. 'She-she
couldn't have said such a thing!'
He smiled a little. 'To achieve her desires, I think she could
probably say anything. You are sure, are you, that this baby exists
and is not yet another figment of her imagination?'
'I'm sure she's pregnant,' she admitted unhappily. 'She- she'd put
on weight, and she was very ill that first morning.'
'Hm.' He paused, then said coldly and brutally, 'So she decided to
foist the paternity of her bastard on to Mario.'
Juliet's eyes filled with tears. 'That's a despicable thing to say!'
'It may also be the truth,' he said. 'Not that I imagine she would ever
admit it, even if she knew what the truth was.'
'You shouldn't say these things,' she whispered, her lips trembling.
'You don't know her.'
'No, but I thought I did,' he answered abruptly. 'Instead, I knew you,
cara, and last night that knowledge was almost complete.'
Juliet felt her throat tighten. The silence between them seemed to
stretch on forever, and become almost tangible. Oh God, she found
herself thinking, don't let him move, don't let him touch me. The
slightest physical contact between them and she had the oddest
sensation that she would shiver into a thousand tiny fragments.
'Please don't let's talk about-last night,' she said at last, haltingly;
'Of course not,' he agreed too urbanely. 'Let us dismiss it from our
minds-pretend that it never happened.'
Staring down at the pebbles at her feet, she said slowly 'After all, it
isn't as if it-meant anything. You-you thought I was Jan, that's
all, which is what I wanted you to think, so it was my own fault ...'
Her voice tailed away rather desperately and there was nothing on
earth that could have forced her to look up and meet his gaze.
'Very true.' His voice was silky. 'You are an accomplished actress,
mia cara- almost too accomplished for your own good, if you will
forgive me for saying so. If you intend to make impersonations of
your sister part of your way of life, I advise you to choose your
company rather carefully. Next time you may not get off quite so
lightly.'
A voice inside her was screaming, 'But I didn't get off lightly! Not
lightly at all.' And for a moment she was terrified that she had
spoken aloud, and betrayed to him all her misery and regret and
hopeless longing.
'Jan can manage without my help from now on,' she said with a
surface lightness she was far from feeling. 'She has a husband to
look after her now and ...'
'It seems not.' His tone was dry. 'I'm afraid your dangerous pretence