To make demands that were all her own.
And then—it was over.
She heard his breathing change, quicken.
He threw back his head, his voice crying out harshly almost bitterly and she felt a spurt of scalding heat far within her.
Then he was still and there was silence.
For a moment or two, Angelo remained where he was, head bent, chest heaving, sweat slicking the bronzed shoulders, then, with the same care he’d shown her when it began, he lifted himself away from her, lying supine at her side, one arm resting across his closed eyes.
Ellie lay still too, her heartbeat going crazy as she attempted to adjust to what had happened.
The words, ‘It could have been so much worse,’ were running through her brain like a ribbon unwinding, but she was not sure she believed them.
Instead, and with even greater difficulty, she had to face what might have been …He had done exactly what she’d told him she would accept, she thought.
No more, no less.
She had faced him and won, so why did she suddenly feel as if she had lost? Because that made no sense—no sense at all.
She turned her head slowly to look at him just as Angelo sat up abruptly, swinging his legs to the floor, and reaching down for his discarded robe.
‘Congratulations, Elena.’ He tossed the words over his shoulder.
‘You have survived your ordeal with great fortitude.
Let us hope for both our sakes that you will soon have good news for me, so that you are never called upon to endure it again.’She watched him walk to the door.
Her lips parted to say something—she wasn’t sure what, it might have been just his name—then the door closed behind him, and she realised it was too late.
Too late, she repeated silently, and turned over, burying her face in the pillow.
The following AprilShe had learned long ago how to conduct herself at all these social events which Angelo required her to attend at his side.
Had mastered how to walk in with her hand resting lightly on his arm, and her smile already nailed securely in place.
To offer all the appearance of a cherished young wife blissfully approaching the first anniversary of her wedding to one of the most glamorous men in the city.
And to dazzle them with the diamonds and other jewels that would be regarded as an overt sign of Count Manzini’s satisfaction with his marriage.
Knowing that none of the eyes watching them—friendly, inimical, admiring or jealous—must be allowed to catch even a glimpse of the reality of her abject failure and his bitter disappointment.
Their mutual ongoing nightmare.
Tonight—a charity reception which Contessa Cosima was helping to host in aid of an orphanage—was an occasion like any other.
She moved slowly round the room, slender in her black dress, the drink in her hand virtually untouched, pausing to greet acquaintances, to laugh and talk for a while before moving on, her timing immaculate, her appearance serene.
But underneath it all, her stomach was churning as she contemplated the end of the evening, the return to Vostranto and, later still, the promise of her husband’s brief, monthly visit to her bedroom, conducted as always with cool efficiency and dispatch.
Her terms strictly adhered to in every respect.
The only verbal exchange between them Angelo’s polite enquiry about her physical comfort as he took her.
Also just an occasion like any other, she told herself, her throat tightening.
That was how she had to look at it, anyway, even when it could mean going to him eventually to tell him she had not conceived this time either.
Just as she’d done every month up to now.
But maybe it wouldn’t be like that, she thought.
Maybe tonight, Nature would relent and her magic trick would work, as it had done only a few weeks ago for Tullia.
And if Ellie’s delighted congratulations to her friend had concealed different emotional strata, she was the only one who’d known it.
‘And you, too, must have a baby very soon, Elena,’ Tullia had declared buoyantly, hugging her.
‘Then the children can play together.’Zia Dorotea had sniffed and looked on the verge of launching some tart remark, but subsided after meeting Nonna Cosima’s steady look.
Tonight, Angelo’s grandmother was seated in a high-backed chair at the side of the room, and she smiled and beckoned when she saw Ellie.
‘Mia cara, I wish you to meet my dear friend, Mother Felicitas.
She is the superior of the Daughters of the Nativity who run the orphanage for us.’The woman beside her was small and rosy-cheeked with sparkling dark eyes, wearing an ankle-length grey dress and a crisply starched white headdress and veil.
‘This is a great pleasure, Contessa.’ An appraising glance accompanied her handshake.
‘We have always been blessed by the support of the Manzini family, and your godmother, the Principessa Damiano is another benefactor.’She smiled.
‘I am told that, unlike the Count’s late mother and grandmother, you are a working wife, but I hope that in the future we can also persuade you to find time in your busy life for us.
It would be an honour.’Ellie coloured faintly.
‘I—I’d really like that.
Although I’ve never had a great deal to do with children.’‘But all that will change for you soon, I expect.’ Mother Felicitas’s glance was kind as she rose to her feet.
‘That is life’s way.’‘Yes,’ Ellie agreed quietly.
‘I—I hope so.’‘I must go now,’ the nun added.
‘Good night, my dear Cosima, and thank you for all you do for our children.
Please bring Count Angelo’s charming wife to visit us soon.
We would be so delighted.’‘Come and sit with me, my child,’ Nonna Cosima said whenMother Felicitas had gone.
‘You look a little pale this evening.
You are not working too hard?’ ‘I don’t think so.’‘Angelo is spending longer hours at Galantana than anyone can remember,’ his grandmother continued musingly.
‘And still using his apartment in the city while he does so, it seems.’ She paused.
‘I hope you are making time for each other in all this ceaseless industry.
That is what a marriage needs, dearest girl, in order to succeed.’Ellie bent her head.
‘It also requires a couple who love each other,’ she said in a low voice.
‘And who weren’t forced together for the sake of some outmoded convention.’‘Is that how it still seems to you?’ Cosima Manzini queried softly.
‘I am sorry to hear it.’ She gave a faint rueful smile.
‘I would not deny that my grandson has serious flaws, but I had hoped that, by now, he might have found a way of recommending himself to you as a husband, Elena.
That you would be building a life together.’Whereas, thought Ellie with a pang, we’ve never been further apart.
And the fact that Angelo spends so much time in Rome should be a relief, but in another way it’s sheer torture.
Because I know the way we live at Vostranto—the fact that there’s no real intimacy in our lives and that the time we’ve spent in bed together since we were married can probably be measured in hours—and I realise that can’t possibly be enough for him.
Because he’s a man who has needs that I wouldn’t know how to fulfil, even if I wanted to, and when I’m with him at a function like this, or at a dinner party and I see how the women look at him, I find, in spite of myself, that I’m wondering where he really spends his nights in Rome—and with whom.
Whether any of the girls who smile and chatter to me are really laughing at me behind my back—the dull wife, not only betrayed but apparently barren too.