Wife By Arrangement

him. If she weakened he would control the situation, and that she mustn’t allow.

He didn’t seem to notice her reserve. His own mood was edgy. Over breakfast he spoke tersely, smiled very little and looked haggard.

The horses were brought round. Soon after they set out she realised that Renato had been right when he’d said the story of the sheep would be all over the district. Wherever they went she found none of the suspicion or hostility that she would have expected, considering that she was a stranger and a foreigner. By some mysterious bush telegraph they knew Renato had chosen her for his wife, they regarded the match as settled, and they approved.

Before long the beauty of the day had its effect on both of them, softening her mood and making him less tense. They stopped at a farm and sat in the sun, drinking rough home-made wine and eating goat’s-milk cheese. Heather had been enchanted by Sicily from the first moment. Now she found new things to delight her wherever she looked.

‘I love that,’ she said, pointing to the ruins of a Greek temple in the distance, with sheep and goats munching contentedly nearby. ‘A great, ancient civilisation, side by side with everyday reality. The sheep aren’t awed by the temple, and the temple isn’t less splendid because of the sheep.’

He nodded agreement. ‘It was built in honour of Ceres, the goddess of fertility and abundance. The more sheep the better.’

‘And seeing them in harmony like that sums up so much about this country.’

‘Do you know how like a Sicilian you sound?’ he said. ‘Talking as though this was a separate country, instead of part of Italy. We all do that.’

‘Yes, I’d noticed. And it’s more than a separate country. It’s a separate world. There’s nothing like it anywhere else.’

‘And will you leave it? Turn your back on the welcome it’s given you?’

‘You’re a very clever man.’ She sighed. ‘You’ve simply gone over my head again. Your mother has decided, the tenants have decided, Father Torrino tells me how much it will cost to repair the church roof-all because you’ve let them think it’s a done deal. It makes me feel like the last piece in a jigsaw puzzle.’

‘That’s a very good analogy,’ he said, tactfully bypassing her accusations. ‘This is a jigsaw puzzle, with all the pieces fitting perfectly. You come into our lives from another country. You have different values, a different language, and yet there’s a space waiting for you that’s exactly your shape. The differences you bring will only enrich us. We can all see it. Why can’t you?’

‘Maybe because you come as part of the package,’ she said darkly.

He gave her the vivid grin that could so powerfully disconcert her. ‘Be brave. I’m not really so bad.’

‘You are.’

‘I’m not.’

‘You are.’

They laughed at the same moment. It was pleasant to be sitting in the bright day, squabbling light-heartedly. In another moment she might have yielded. But then some perverse imp made her ask, ‘Why did you change your mind? A couple of weeks ago nothing would make you consider it.’

‘Mamma gave me a stern talking-to, and as I’m afraid of her I gave in.’ He added outrageously, ‘But very reluctantly.’

‘Oh, stop it. I’m trying to be serious.’

‘Then let’s be serious. Arranged marriages can work very well when neither party is burdened with extravagant expectations. We’ve both seen the dangers of that, haven’t we?’

‘If you put it like that,’ she said with a sigh, ‘I suppose we have.’

‘Shall we call it a bargain? Come, say yes so that I can call Mamma.’

‘I suppose she’s sitting by the phone, waiting to hear my answer?’

‘Possibly, although I think she knew it was virtually decided.’

She frowned. ‘Decided? Now wait a minute. No way was it decided.’

He made a hasty gesture. ‘I put that badly. It’s just that I told her I thought that when you and I had talked about it calmly-’

‘What you told her,’ Heather breathed, her eyes kindling, ‘was that I was bound to give in. “Just give me a few hours to talk some sense into her, Mamma, and you can start sending out the invitations.” It was bad enough that you fooled people around here, but how dare you tell your mother it was settled?’

She got hastily to her feet.

Renato swore and rose too. ‘Heather, will you listen to reason?’

‘No, because I don’t like your kind of reason. You pulled my strings to marry me to Lorenzo, only he wasn’t there. Now you think you’re going to pull my strings again-only, this time, I won’t be there. Somebody ought to put you in a cage and charge admission, because you come right out of the ark. And you’re the last man I could ever marry.’

A look of stubbornness settled on his face. ‘But I’ve given her my word.’

‘And my word is no.’

‘This is Sicily, where a woman’s word counts for nothing beside a man’s.’

‘Well, maybe I’m not as much a Sicilian as we all thought.’

‘Why can’t you face the inevitable?’

‘Because I don’t think it is inevitable. I’m meant for a better fate than to save you from the results of your own pride. Go back to your light affairs, Renato. Pay them, and forget them. That’s all you’re good for.’

His sharp intake of breath told him she’d flicked him on the raw. She stormed away to where the horses were tethered. The farmer was there and he smiled at her in a way she was coming to recognise. The sight only increased her sense of being trapped. She thanked him for his hospitality before jumping on her horse and galloping away.

Faster and faster she urged the willing animal, as though she could outrun all the furies that pursued her whenever Renato Martelli was around. She could hear him behind her now, galloping hard to catch up, shouting something.

She couldn’t make out the words, and she missed the signs that would have warned her what was about to happen: the sudden drop in temperature, the darkening of the sky. The first crack of thunder took her by surprise. Her horse was alarmed, missed his footing, found it again and managed to go on. But he’d lost speed, and in the need to control him she’d taken her eyes off Renato. Next thing he’d caught up with her.

‘Go on to the temple,’ he cried. ‘It’s nearer than the farm.’

Before she could reply there was another crack of thunder and the heavens opened. She gasped. This wasn’t rain as she knew it. It was a flood, a torrent that crashed onto her all at once, pounding like hammers, drenching her in the first second.

‘Come on!’ he yelled.

She could no longer see the temple in the downpour, and found it only by following him. It loomed suddenly out of the wall of rain, no longer cheerful as in the sun, but almost sinister.

‘There,’ he cried, pointing to the far end. ‘There’s some cover.’

But the cover turned out to be too small. There was only just room for the horses, so they put the distressed animals inside, and endured the downpour themselves.

‘Damn!’ he yelled. ‘I thought we had another day at least.’

But now she’d got her second wind Heather was feeling good. The noise of the water, the thunder, the fierceness of the rain against her body, was exhilarating. Renato stared at her, realising that this wasn’t the woman he knew, but a new one who revelled in the violence of the elements. She turned and stared back at him, laughing, challenging. The next moment he’d pulled her into his arms.

It felt good to be kissed by a man whose control was slipping, who wanted her almost against his will. There was a driving purpose in his lips that thrilled her. He kissed her mouth, her nose, her eyes, seeking her feverishly as though nothing was ever enough. She gasped and clung to him. The rain had soaked through the thin material of their shirts, making them almost vanish. She relished in the feel of his body, the muscular shape of his arms and shoulders, the heavy bull neck, the sheer primitive force of the man. This was what she’d craved even while she was fending him off, because, like him, she needed her own terms.