Bride By Choice

ago.’

‘The villa? He lives there-alone?’

‘He has no other woman, my dear.’

She hadn’t been thinking of that. What hurt was the thought of Lorenzo alone in the house where they had planned to share love. Alone. Waking up alone. Going to bed alone. Lorenzo, a man who liked to be with people.

‘You really don’t understand him, do you?’ Baptista asked.

‘No. I used to think he was uncomplicated and easy to understand. But now he’s shut me out of his mind and I can’t follow any of his thoughts.’

‘It’s really very simple. This is still a very old-fashioned society where men and women are concerned. A man’s pride should matter to him more than anything else, more than any woman. As people see it, you insulted Lorenzo and he should avenge his honour. But he does not. Instead he champions and protects a woman who has publicly scorned him. And so they deride him as a fool.’

‘It’s so unjust, both to me and to him.’

‘True. But a man who shows that a woman matters more to him than anything else in life has a hard road to travel.’

‘Love,’ Helen mused wistfully. ‘I can’t hope that he still loves me.’

‘If he doesn’t, why do you think he endures humiliation for you?’ Baptista demanded, a little sternly. ‘Don’t question his feelings. Question your own. Lorenzo has sacrificed his pride for your sake. By doing so he has set you above his home, his rearing, his family, his country. Miu fighia, it’s a great responsibility when a man loves you as much as that. Even a great burden. Are you strong enough for such a burden?’

‘Yes,’ Helen said decisively. ‘I thought I loved him before, but the feelings I had then look so shallow. Now, when he’s so strong and kind, caring for me without complaining or reproaching me, I’ve come to see him as a man I can admire and respect as well as love. Why, that was it,’ she said in a tone of discovery. ‘There was always something missing before, and that was it.’

‘And now it’s in place,’ Baptista said. ‘So you will know what to do.’

The little hotel stood in the heart of Palermo, its best room looking out directly onto the main square and its colourful life. From the window of that room Helen could judge her moment precisely.

She’d rented it three days ago, knowing that she would have to be patient, but also knowing that she wasn’t struggling alone. Angie and Heather were on her side, and both had given their husbands careful instructions. Baptista too had been involved in the organisation, which had prompted her to reminisce about how she had arranged Heather and Renato’s wedding, and the role she had played in Angie and Bernardo’s. She had ended by observing tartly that however clever her sons thought they were, none of them seemed capable of getting married without their mother’s help. Whereupon the four women had cracked open a bottle of champagne to toast each other.

Now the evening was here and everything was in place. She’d persuaded the baffled hotelier to bring up a small table to stand just to the side of the window, and a lamp to put on it. She made him shift them twice before she was completely satisfied, and then he fled downstairs to tell his wife that their guest was crazy.

She was wearing the dark red silk dress from the night they met, and her black hair was hanging about her shoulders. She usually wore it up these days, but tonight she cast aside her business self and became simply a woman with a man in her sights.

Spring hadn’t properly begun, but in Palermo the climate was mild and many bars and cafes had tables out in the open. There was one just below her, at right angles to her corner room, so that she could see the tables clearly.

The next moment Renato appeared, his hand resting on Lorenzo’s shoulder. He indicated a seat on the pavement, apparently suggesting that they sit here and have a drink. Lorenzo shrugged and sat down while Renato summoned the waiter and ordered drinks.

Well and good. The first of her allies was doing his part. Now all it needed was the second…

And there was Bernardo, right on cue, strolling into the square from a side street, accompanied by a little crowd of young men. Lorenzo looked up, and even from here Helen could discern his surprise at the company his brother kept. For there were Tonio and Enrico, Carlo, Franco and Mario-all Lorenzo’s tormentors. And Bernardo, the least sociable man in the world, was laughing with them, inviting them to sit down and drink at his expense, which they were eager to do. He even directed them to seats where they and Lorenzo had a clear view of each other.

Helen gave a little murmur of satisfaction. Bernardo’s role was the hardest but he was doing it perfectly.

‘You leave it to me,’ he’d said only yesterday. ‘I’ll round that scum up and deliver them just where and when you need them.’

So now everything was ready for her. All she had to do was step out into that square, play the part she’d set herself, and trust to Lorenzo’s reaction. Her heart almost failed her when she thought what that might be. Would he understand? Would he respond?

But even if it didn’t, she would have restored his dignity in the face of all Palermo, and that was worth any sacrifice.

She switched the table lamp on and pulled the curtains apart so that anyone standing below would have a good view of the window and just a little way inside. That was an essential part of her plan. Then, taking a deep breath, she left the room, went down the stairs and out into the square.

Lorenzo didn’t see her at first, but before she had crossed the short distance that separated them something made him aware of her. He raised his head from his wine glass and became very still as she strolled the last few feet to stand in front of him. She moved almost casually, deliberately unhurried, so that nobody should guess that her heart was thumping and her mouth was dry with apprehension. All around them a silence gradually fell. Lorenzo’s tormentors were watching closely, avid for any new ammunition.

Helen let them look, giving them time to take in her rich beauty and the fact that she’d come prepared for the fray. Lorenzo frowned a little, as though wondering why she’d chosen to confront him in these circumstances. In return for his frown she gave him a slow, luxuriant smile, implicit with a promise that no man could have misunderstood.

‘Did you want something with me?’ Lorenzo asked, puzzled and cautious.

‘Yes,’ she said in a clear voice. ‘I do.’

She didn’t move. She waited for him to rise and come to her. Very slowly he did so, standing close and looking into her eyes.

‘What can I do for you?’ he asked gently.

‘This,’ she said, drawing him quickly towards her with a movement that wasn’t gentle at all. She was kissing him before he had time to think, wrapping her arms about his neck, her fingers in his hair in a theatrical parade of seduction, and all the time she was praying that he would understand.

He didn’t kiss her back at once, but that was all right, she told herself. The point was to tell the world that she wanted him. So she put everything she had into it, enticing him with her lips and her hands, assaulting his senses so that they would yield before he could think straight.

She let her fingertips play on the back of his neck and felt the jolt that went through him. She was reminding him of memories he’d spent months suppressing, using all her strength, all the allure of which she was capable, to make him remember, and long for her. And the power of his arms about her told her that she was succeeding.

He was taking over the kiss, and she gladly let him do so, for his lips were caressing hers with an urgency she hadn’t dared to hope for again. He’d longed for her as much as she had done for him, and now anything was possible. Which meant the time had come for the next part of her plan.

She gently released herself and stepped back.

‘Is that all you wanted?’ he asked, watching her intently, beginning to understand, but not daring to hope…

‘No, it’s not all.’ She took a deep breath. Her heart was pounding at the risk she was taking, but nothing was going to stop her now. ‘I want you to go with me to the cathedral-and marry me,’ she said in a voice loud enough to be heard by them all. ‘Do you understand, Lorenzo? I want to marry you.’

His brows drew together a little. ‘Are you sure that’s a good idea?’ he murmured.