Chapter Eight #4
She stopped at the water fountain to scoop a handful of water onto her neck.
She’d run for over an hour through the estate—the acres of rolling vines, the groves of orange and lemon trees and the beautifully maintained gardens near the majestic house—unnoticed by the staff rushing to finish setting up the trestle tables in the garden to host the wedding feast. She’d always loved to run when she had a particularly thorny problem to decipher.
And was there any problem thornier than her relationship with Dario Lorenti?
She hadn’t understood what the passionate argument had been about—her Italian was hardly fluent. But she had been able to make an educated guess that Dario and Trovato had a history which was a great deal more complicated than a simple business rivalry.
But even though she hadn’t been sure of the context, seeing the emotions Dario had been unable to mask—sensing how broken he’d been after that confrontation and how alone he’d seemed when they’d got to the summer house—had made the sense of connection she’d been trying to deny that much stronger.
Scarily stronger, when you factored in the kiss in his apartment in Milan forty-eight hours ago, which she also couldn’t forget.
She sluiced her face with the cool water.
Whatever the deal is with Sante is not your business, Tali.
And trying to make it her business would be a mistake. Because Dario had already made it clear he was only interested in one thing from her.
And having to behave like Dario’s devoted fiancée this evening—while knowing there was only one bed in that stunning summer house—was going to make dealing with him tonight hard enough.
Tali made her way along the path to the back of the house, so she could get to the summer house without being spotted by any of the guests who were already arriving on the lavish driveway at the front entrance.
But as she went past the outbuildings, she spotted Mia, dressed casually in jean shorts and a T-shirt, chatting to one of her wait staff setting up for the feast that evening.
Tali paused, about to find another way back—because how awkward was it that Dario hadn’t mentioned to his sister their so-called ‘love for the ages’ was a lie—when Mia spotted her and waved.
‘Tallulah! Wait, I wanted to talk to you.’
Before Tali could make a dignified retreat or think up an excuse to run, the bride had excused herself and was jogging towards her.
‘Hi,’ Tali murmured, her already sweaty face probably purple when Mia reached her. ‘I… I should head back.’ She pointed over her shoulder, the awkward going all the way to eleven. ‘I expect the stylist will be waiting for me…and you probably need to get dressed, too.’
‘Ha, yes. I’m going to be late, but I had to let Bianca know about a last-minute change to the seating plan…
It’s the EA in me. I can’t help over-organising every detail.
’ The woman beamed the same sweet, generous smile which had made Tali feel so guilty when they’d been introduced.
‘But luckily, it’s the bride’s prerogative to be late,’ she added.
‘And Sante is far too used to having me at his beck and call. Now, finally, I will get a chance to make him wait, which I intend to take full advantage of…’ She laughed, her face lighting up at the mention of her groom.
Tali’s heartbeat slowed at the glow which suffused Mia’s features.
What must it be like, to know you had found your soulmate?
Because from the words Tali had managed to decipher—and the expression on Sante Trovato’s face when he had spoken about Mia to Dario during their altercation—that was one thing she had been sure of.
The man adored Mia, and Mia adored him right back.
Tali let out a strained chuckle. ‘That sounds like a plan…’
‘But first…’ Mia began, her expression sobering.
‘I wanted to apologise for what happened earlier. I hope we didn’t make you too uncomfortable?
’ she continued, looking genuinely concerned.
The trickle of guilt became a flood. ‘We’re so glad you’re here with Dario.
And I’m so, so happy he’s found someone who cares about him and wants to support him.
He’s been alone for so long…’ Mia rushed ahead, but the earnest expression only made Tali feel worse about their deception.
Why hadn’t he confided in his sister? While it was obvious Dario had been furious with her decision to marry Trovato, none of that was true anymore, was it? Perhaps Dario would tell her tonight?
‘I’m sure Dario told you all about Sante, about the things he thought he had done to him—leaving him in the wreckage of that car…
But none of that was ever true. And while I’m glad Dario finally knows those lies were all just another way our father tried to manipulate him, it must have been awkward for you to have to witness all that. ’
You have no idea.
Tali bit into her lip, the guilt starting to make her feel as if she’d swallowed a rock. This conversation had gone way beyond awkward to just plain awful.
‘I just… I want you to know I understand that,’ Mia added.
‘And if you have any reservations at all, about the truth of what really happened that day, I’d be happy to explain it all to you, in English.
Because I’m sure you probably didn’t understand a lot of what was being said and knowing my brother.
Well…’ Mia gave a hefty sigh, but then a rueful smile appeared.
‘I very much doubt he has explained any of it to you—because he’d rather cut out his tongue than share and discuss, as I’m sure you’re already well aware. ’
Tali couldn’t help the small smile that curved her lips, because the truth was, even though she wasn’t Dario’s real fiancée, she did know exactly how much he disliked sharing anything—his motivations, his secrets and his feelings most of all.
But then Mia launched into an explanation of the poor Sicilian boy who had been Dario’s only friend at boarding school in the UK…
And understanding dawned.
So Sante Trovato, the man Mia was about to marry, was the same boy her mother and the rest of the staff had whispered about at Westwick that summer. The boy who had supposedly left Dario on the roadside to die…except he hadn’t.
The greasy knot in Tali’s stomach became a snake, threatening to gag her as Mia’s impassioned explanations continued.
And Tali’s avid curiosity about Dario’s past only ramped up her guilt.
She shouldn’t be listening to any of this.
He wouldn’t want her to know… That much had been obvious from the closed-off expression on his face when she’d offered to discuss it with him at the summer house.
‘Please, Mia… You have to stop talking!’ she finally blurted out.
Mia stopped abruptly. ‘What, why?’ she asked, utterly confused.
‘Because… I’m not… I’m just… Not…’ Tali stumbled to a halt, the confession dying on her lips.
She was breaking a confidence, not to mention a binding NDA agreement, by telling Mia the truth about her arrangement with Mia’s brother.
‘It’s okay, Tallulah, whatever it is, you can tell me…
’ Mia said, confusion giving way to compassion.
And suddenly Tali understood. She couldn’t lie about this.
Even if Dario ended up suing her. Or pulling out of their agreement.
She’d never intended for anyone to get hurt.
And Mia would be hurt, if she continued to believe Tali meant something to Dario, that one day soon Tali would be a genuine part of their family.
Mia was so obviously a good person—a kind, sweet, passionately loyal person—who wanted the best for her brother, even though it sounded as if he’d been as distant with her as he had with everyone else…
And while a part of Tali desperately wanted to know why Dario found it so hard to let anyone in, even his own sister, she couldn’t let Mia confide in her.
Because Mia would regret it when she learned the truth.
That Tali meant nothing to Dario, even if he was starting to mean something to her—which was probably just her delusional Miss Fix-it issues resurfacing.
‘I’m not Dario’s real fiancée. We’re not in love. I only met him a couple of weeks ago…’ The truth burst out.
Mia stared at her, her expression going from confused to completely dumbfounded. ‘You’re not getting married?’
‘Well, yes, but… That’s not real either.
Well, it will be a real marriage, as in a legal one, but I won’t be his real wife.
He needed to marry an Englishwoman, to inherit his mother’s…
Your mother’s palazzo in Capri. Something about the terms of your father’s will.
I guess the palazzo means a lot to him. Obviously. ’
For goodness’ sake, stop talking now… You sound like an imbecile.
Mia’s eyes narrowed as the truth dawned on her, but the compassion remained. There was no anger, not even irritation in her tone when she spoke again. ‘My brother is pretending to love you, so he can inherit Palazzo di Constanzo?’
‘Well…yes,’ Tali murmured. God, how had she not realised until this moment how crass and manipulative their arrangement sounded?
‘And how did he persuade you to do this?’ Mia asked, her tone still level, but the spike of irritation there, underneath. Weirdly, though, it did not seem to be aimed at Tali.
‘I’m the estate manager at Westwick Hall…
I love my job, and the Hall, but it’s been in decline for years, and since Dario inherited it, he hasn’t wanted to have anything to do with it.
He finally came to the estate a few weeks ago to inform me he was demolishing it…
But then he agreed to invest two million euros in Westwick, which would secure its future and all our jobs…
if I agreed to pose as…his…’ Embarrassment gave way to shame as the truth got locked in her throat. ‘To pose as his…’