The Italian Matchmaker(33)
‘Is this a bad time?’
‘Luca!’ She put down her pen and sat up excitedly. ‘You haven’t returned any of my calls!’
‘I’m deleting my messages without listening to them.’
‘Is that wise?’
‘I need a break.’
‘So, how is it? Is it wonderful?’
‘Well, I’m lying by the pool. It’s hot and sunny. Life is good.’
‘I’m so pleased. You really needed a rest. What’s the palazzo like?’
‘They have done the most splendid job. It’s glorious. As you can imagine, Mother has paid attention to every detail. It’s going to be photographed by the Sunday Times. The journalist arrives in a few weeks. God knows what she’s going to dig up. The place has a rather bloody history.’
‘Tell me!’ Freya had forgotten all about her admin. It wouldn’t matter if she was late for the meeting. She’d make some excuse.
‘An old marquis lived here during the war. His mistress was a local beauty called Valentina. She was also fucking a famous mafia boss and a Brit whom she was on the point of marrying. The marquis, in a fit of jealousy, murdered her.’
‘Oh my God! That’s terrible.’
‘Then, Valentina’s brother murdered him in the palazzo.’
‘Your palazzo?’
‘Exactly. Ventura, the maid, won’t go upstairs because she says the place is haunted.’
‘Well, is it?’
‘Of course not!’
‘Great story, though.’
‘It gets better. Valentina had a daughter called Alba, by the Brit. She lives here in Incantellaria.’
‘It all sounds thrilling.’
‘Its beauty takes your breath away, Freya.’ He suddenly sounded serious. ‘I’d love to show it to you.’
She hesitated a moment. ‘I wish you could show it to me, too.’
‘Where’s the lovely Miles?’
‘Out and about. I don’t know.’
‘Are you getting bored of him?’
‘No!’ she laughed. ‘Whatever gave you that idea?’
‘Optimism.’
‘Haven’t you found a pretty Italian yet?’
‘I don’t want an Italian,’ he replied, feeling once again the sting of Cosima’s rebuff.
‘What about Annabel? She’s been asking after you. You haven’t returned any of her calls either.’ She heard him groan. ‘You slept with her, didn’t you?’
‘Mistake,’ he replied.
Freya was pleased. ‘I’ll fend her off. You were obviously too good . . .’
‘You remember?’
‘No! It was a long time ago.’
‘I remember every inch of you.’
‘Oh, Luca. You shouldn’t.’ But his words made her feel so desirable.
‘We were good together. Why don’t you come out?’
‘I couldn’t.’
‘You have a nanny.’
‘What would Miles think?’
‘Bring him too. I’ll find suitable distractions for him.’
‘Don’t be silly.’
‘Come with the children in the holidays. I’m sure to have the girls while Claire goes social climbing. They can all play together and I can show you around Incantellaria.’
‘Miles would never let me. He’s suspicious of you.’
‘How very unreasonable of him. Bring your mother.’
‘She thinks Incantellaria is a dull little place.’
‘Only because Fitz once had a girlfriend here. There’s nothing dull about it; if anything, it’s far too colourful for its own good. Think about it. It’s perfect. Almost perfect,’ he added with emphasis. ‘You’d make it complete.’
She hesitated a moment. Luca was feeling much more cheerful. ‘I don’t think I can, Luca,’ she said at last.
‘Why? I’m not going to eat you.’
‘You’re a dangerous flirt and Miles knows that.’
‘Then I’ll just live off the memories.’
‘Make some new ones, Luca, with someone else. We’re just friends, remember.’
He sighed. ‘I remember. Game, set and match to Miles.’
Energised by his conversation with Freya, he swam some lengths, his mind on Freya and the improbability of an affair. But, for every moment he thought of Freya, he twice rejected Cosima’s face. It surfaced continuously to eclipse hers like an unexpected moon.
Dizzy moved her sun-lounger farther away from the water as Luca splashed her with his energetic swimming. Maxwell received business calls from Vienna and spoke very loudly in German, pretentiously adding the odd English word for emphasis. When Luca got out, Caradoc had appeared, sitting in the shade, reading a book.