The Italian’s Cinderella Bride

Ruth One will appear and take over.’

‘She’s the one who’s in love with him.’

‘Was in love with him. She’s gone, but-’

Pietro nodded. ‘But how far?’

‘Or maybe Ruth Three will stand there, resolute, and say “I’m in charge now,”’ she said, avoiding a direct answer. ‘And he’ll run for his life.’

He looked at her, walking beside him, poised, elegant and beautiful.

‘I don’t think he’ll run for his life,’ he said. ‘More likely he’ll try to win you back.’

‘That could be awkward, two of us operating in different time zones,’ she said lightly.

‘What about Ruth Two?’

‘Perish the thought. I don’t want to be her again. Now, I’m not going to think about it until I go to the station and meet the train.’

‘Until we go,’ Pietro said firmly.

‘I’ll be all right on my own.’

‘I’m going to be there. Don’t argue with me.’

‘All right. You said Gino emailed you. Can I see it?’

‘I’m afraid I deleted it by accident.’

Her smile had never been more brilliant. ‘I see. All right, Toni, I’m coming.’

She skipped ahead, leaving him to trail after her, dissatisfied.

Next day Franco came to the Palazzo Bagnelli, bringing his wife. Ruth found the Baronessa Serafina pure entertainment. Born Jessie Franks, she had changed her name to Sweetheart for a brief career as an adult movie star, and then again to Serafina in honour of her new, grand position in the world. But only Franco was permitted to call her this. To everyone else she was Baronessa, and woe betide anyone who forgot.

Her manner to Pietro combined awe and flirtatiousness, neither of which appealed to him, Ruth could see. She made it plain that she considered herself, her husband and Count Bagnelli to exist on a higher plane than mere mortals. Ruth was relegated to the position of servant, or would have been if Pietro hadn’t made a point of treating her with noticeable respect.

‘If I’d known she was going to be so rude to you I’d never have agreed,’ he said. ‘Shall I throw them out?’

‘Of course not. She doesn’t bother me. I think she’s hilarious, except when she insults the house.’

‘Quite!’ he seethed. ‘Did you hear her say it needed redecoration?’

‘It’s not enough like a Hollywood mansion for her taste.’

The list of things Serafina wanted altered was enormous, and only a flat refusal from Pietro silenced her. Attempting to smooth things over, Franco insisted on taking them all to dinner. Serafina’s eyebrows rose at the idea of including Ruth, but Ruth backed out thankfully, preferring an evening alone with Toni. Pietro wasn’t pleased.

‘How can you leave me undefended?’ he growled to Ruth.

‘Because I don’t fancy being treated as Cinderella, allowed to go to the ball. She’d expect me to vanish at midnight.’

‘Great. Then I could vanish with you.’

‘Sorry. She’s your problem.’

‘Thanks!’

It was a relief to have the building to herself, and to hear the blessed quiet after the disturbance of the day. For tomorrow an army would descend on them and there would be no moments of calm.

Soon she would see Gino again, and discover whether the man who lived in her head had any reality. If he did, then the thing she feared most might happen, and she would be transported back to a discarded personality, becoming again the woman who was in love with him.

But she longed not to be that woman. The thought that it might happen was like seeing a cage close around her.

And yet another part of her heart yearned to feel again the innocent love and delight she had known then, when the world was a happier, simpler place.

She fell asleep hoping that tonight her dreams would give her some guidance, but this time there was only darkness.

Franco and Serafina descended again next morning, complete with servants to make the Palazzo Bagnelli ‘suitable’, as they saw it. Pietro had taken the precaution of telephoning his country estate and summoning some of his own servants who had worked there before. They arrived like an opposing army, ready to take charge.

Arguments followed. Minna waded into battle, swearing vengeance on anyone who touched a vase or cleaned a tile without her express permission. Celia, armed and dangerous, stood at the door to the kitchen ready to repel invaders. But Franco’s cook had a tact and charm that won her over, and peace was soon established.

‘I left Celia showing the assistant cooks around the cupboards,’ Pietro said to Minna in a quiet moment late that afternoon. ‘Thank heavens that’s settled.’

‘But there’s a great deal that isn’t settled, signore,’ Minna informed him, a martial light in her eye. ‘Let me tell you-’

‘It’ll have to wait, I’m afraid. Time’s getting on and I have to go out. Do you know where Ruth is?’

‘She went out half an hour ago.’

‘Out? Did she say where?’

‘No, signore, but I saw her turn to cross the Rialto Bridge.’

Then she was heading for the railway station, Pietro realised. She’d said she would prefer to go alone, and she’d simply slipped away while he was occupied.

Franco appeared. ‘Pietro, my friend-’

‘Not now,’ Pietro said hurriedly and headed for the door.

‘But this is important.’

‘So is this.’

He made his escape before Franco could stop him, running out of the house, over the Rialto Bridge, then plunging into the rabbit warren of calles that would lead him to the railway station on the extreme edge of Venice.

As he ran he cursed her: stupid woman, obstinate woman, he’d told her it was better if he came too. Why couldn’t she see that?

But she’d never been sensible. After the first day when she’d been only half-alive, she’d done things her own way, no matter what he said, accepting as little of his protection as she could manage, and always ready to tease and infuriate him, to keep him at a careful distance.

And that was the clue to her state of mind. This meeting with Gino was more important than she let on, and when he thought of how many ways it could go wrong, his blood ran cold. He wished now that he’d warned her about Gino’s attitude.

Or perhaps it didn’t matter. Perhaps, with the first look, all trouble would be swept away. He’d find them locked in each other’s arms, and that would be the end of that. He would go his way, she would go hers, with Gino, and it would be as though she had never come into his life.

She’d once warned him that she would soon be gone, but she’d been talking about Toni, and he hadn’t understood the message.

Now the station was in sight. All he had to do was go in and search for her.

But something had happened to his limbs and he couldn’t move.

There wasn’t a train at exactly five-thirty but one was due ten minutes later, so Ruth settled herself to wait. It was vital to be sensible. Even if it went well, nothing was going to happen today. They probably wouldn’t even recognise each other.

Yet her heart still beat with anticipation. Whatever the present might be, she had loved Gino passionately, and he was about to come back into her life.

Outside the station the world was dark. Ruth stood at the end of the platform watching the lights stream out over the two-mile causeway to the mainland, cars on one side, trains on the other. For the moment the line was empty.

But then a light began to move along it, heading for Venice, growing larger. Ruth’s breath was coming so fast that she almost choked. She could see the train clearly now, details coming into view as it neared the station. She