Chapter Ten #2
Then her arm was being taken, hooked through Sanzio’s, and he was placing her hand on his sleeve, stepping closer to her.
‘Stand your ground,’ she heard him murmur as Carla guided her sister and her husband forward.
Then they were there—the Marquis and his new Marquise—the Contessa taking her husband’s arm, blocking Sanzio and Eleanora as she did, as introductions were made, the Marquis punctiliously polite and seeming unaware of any undercurrents and tension.
‘And of course Sanzio Bastoni.’ Carla smiled widely—too widely.
‘Sanzio’s an old favourite with Tonia,’ she told the Marquis confidingly.
‘But have no fear, it has all worked out perfectly. Tonia has married you, and Sanzio—’ her smile was wider yet ‘—has married Tonia’s sister.
It couldn’t have worked out better, could it, Tonia? ’
She stepped aside as she spoke, bringing Sanzio clearly into view, but still blocking Eleanora. Eleanora saw Tonia turn, her eyes go to him—start to speak.
‘Sanzio? I thought you were buried in the countryside with my baby sister! Have you deserted her already?’ she asked archly.
‘How unsurprising! Of course you could never bring her here—she’d be a complete eyesore!
’ She gave a cruel little laugh. Designed, it was obvious to Eleanora, not just to insult her, but the man who’d chosen to marry her.
The man landed with a wife no man would envy him for.
Whereas had that wife been Tonia, every man would have envied him…
that was Tonia’s intended message, Eleanora knew.
‘Oh, no—’ Carla smiled ‘—Eleanora’s here.’ She drew back.
Eleanora stood like a statue. She couldn’t do anything else. Tonia’s eyes went to her, seeing what all the world was seeing.
And what Eleanora saw in her sister’s face for a moment was disbelief. Total, absolute disbelief.
Then fury. Incredulous, disbelieving fury…
Inside Eleanora, something changed.
* * *
Sanzio stepped forward to brush Tonia’s cheek. ‘My felicitations,’ he said, smooth and bland, ‘on your marriage.’ He held out a hand to the Marquis. ‘Congratulations,’ he said. He made his voice warm. He had no quarrel with the man—and quite a lot of pity.
But Tonia’s benighted husband was, right now, an irrelevance. His focus went back to Tonia. His mouth thinned like a whip. She’d gone white beneath her make-up. Blind fury in her eyes.
Exactly what I wanted to see!
She can’t stand it—can’t stand seeing what she’s seeing!
But she was seeing it all right. And choking on it.
It was a sweet, sweet moment. One he relished to the full.
Into the silence, the Contessa’s voice came again. ‘Doesn’t your sister look fabulous, Tonia!’ She paused deliberately. ‘Even more stunning than you.’
* * *
Eleanora stood stock-still, but inside her something was happening that she had never, never thought possible. That unmistakable look of fury from Tonia had done it.
The fury that could have only one reason. One reason that sent a rush through her—a rush she had never experienced before. Had never thought could exist.
But now it did.
Carla’s gushing exclamation rang in her ears. ‘Doesn’t your sister look fabulous…!’
And she did. She knew she did. Knew it because she had seen it in Sanzio’s gaze. Which made it totally, absolutely true.
And which Tonia’s undisguised fury now confirmed for her. A fury which was suddenly, abruptly veiled.
But not the dark, venomous glitter in her sister’s eyes. Tonia was speaking—speaking to her, her voice like a knife in a satin sheath.
‘Well, well, if it isn’t little Ellie-Ellie!
’ Mockery was in her voice, and she used the nickname Eleanora hated, which her sister knew she did.
‘I would never have recognised you!’ Her scathing glance swept over the ivory evening gown, then back to Eleanora.
‘Of course, you do need to be skinny to wear bias-cut,’ she murmured pityingly.
For the first time in her life, Eleanora’s chin went up. For the first time in her life, she hit back. Knowing, for the first time, that she could. She smiled. A kindly one.
‘Yes, you wouldn’t get away with it, Tonia,’ she murmured, the implication clear.
And that it was true was reflected in the sudden anger in Tonia’s face. Making it ugly.
Beside her, she could hear Sanzio give a low laugh. ‘With her fantastic figure, Eleanora certainly can!’ he said, his voice warm with admiration. She felt him pat her hand on his sleeve, heard him go on. ‘Will you excuse us? We should mingle.’ He nodded at the others and led Eleanora away.
* * *
Sanzio felt Eleanora lean into him, and he took her weight on his arm. He suspected reaction was setting in. He guided her towards a pair of unoccupied chairs on the far side of the grand salone and she sank down gratefully. She turned to him as he took his own seat.
‘Did you know? That she was going to turn up?’ Her voice was shaky now.
He nodded. ‘Not for certain, but it looked likely. I knew they were heading back to Europe. Your father told me, and also that Tonia wanted her Marquis to make a donation to the Duchessa’s charity so she could get an invitation.
It would mean—’ his voice turned cynical ‘—she could show herself off in Rome with her prize and her new grand title.’
Eleanora breathed out slowly. ‘If I’d known she might be here tonight—’
‘You’d have cried off, wouldn’t you?’ Sanzio said.
She nodded.
He patted her hand. ‘That would have been a mistake. It had to happen at some point, it was inevitable. I just wanted—’ he took a breath, held her troubled gaze ‘—to make sure she would see you in a setting that meant she could never, never again treat you the way she always has!’
‘She tried to,’ Eleanora said, her mouth twisting slightly.
‘Oh, she did that all right!’ His expression changed. ‘But well done for outfacing her! That was masterly!’
She said shakily, ‘I can’t believe I did—I’ve never answered her back in my life.’
‘Well, now you have. And,’ he said feelingly, ‘you hit her most vulnerable spot. Her vanity.’ His mouth curled.
‘She’s spent her life putting you down, insulting you, presuming—’ he didn’t hide his anger at what Tonia had said to him back there about Eleanora ‘—to do so to my face! To get at me, as well as you! Well, now she has had a taste of her own medicine!’
He let that sink in, wanting her to feel the justice of it, however mild the insult Eleanora had retaliated with after a lifetime of cruel condemnation.
He held her eyes. There was something he needed to say to her, needed her to hear, and now was the moment for it. He had been wanting to tell her, waiting to tell her, and now he could.
‘Eleanora, I planned this encounter with Tonia—this showdown, as I knew it would be!—right from the start, from before I even married you. I made it my plan, determined on it, to bring you to Rome, where I could get you to see what you’ve always refused to see—reveal to you the beauty you couldn’t believe in, thanks to your toxic sister.
And then—’ his voice hardened ‘—I was determined that she should see it too—as she has tonight, as she’s been forced to see.
Enraging her! I was determined to ram it home to her, in full view of the audience she loves to show off to so much, and everyone seeing it too, which is exactly what this evening has done.
And your sister,’ he said, and there was satisfaction in his voice, hard as iron, ‘can choke on it!’
He drew a short breath, his mouth compressing. Then, deliberately, he lightened his expression. He had said his piece. Time to be done with it. Finally done. Spotting a waiter circulating with champagne, he relieved him of two glasses, bestowing one on Eleanora. He lifted his to her.
‘What we need,’ he said, his voice deliberately lightening, ‘is a toast.’ He touched his glass to hers.
‘To enjoying the evening! Drink up, and then we’ll circulate.
We won’t go anywhere near your toxic sister—but I want to show you off to all of Rome!
Because you, Donna Eleanora da Verano Bastoni are, without a shadow of doubt, the most stunning woman here tonight! ’
His smile was warm and reassuring, but with a glint in his eyes he wanted her to see.
‘And I,’ he told her, and he let a huskiness into his voice, ‘am the infinitely lucky man who is going to take you home tonight. And make love to you until you melt in my arms like liquid gold.’
Which was exactly what he did, after returning from the gala way gone midnight, slowly and sensuously letting pleasure flow like a river across their bodies, lapping their senses. Eleanora lay afterwards, curled up against him, saying nothing, nor he, just softly, drowsily stroking her hair.
Until sleep took them both.