Luca didn’t say anything. He’d made a deal of his own life being irrevocably altered. He’d used expressions that she had found objectionable. Yet she, likewise, was facing the same life-changing event but had risen above the negativity to a place of acceptance.
Right now, he didn’t feel great about himself but how was he to suspect, when she walked through that door, the reason for her sudden appearance? And it was perfectly understandable, surely, if he happened to be a bit tactless in his summary of the situation, given the fact that he had had zero time to digest what she had come to tell him.
And yet...
Something about the purity of her gaze and the wrenching honesty of her approach shamed him.
‘There’s no need to be petrified,’ he murmured as he settled into the idea of a different life from the one to which he had resigned himself.
For one split second, he felt something that almost resembled elation, then it was gone, replaced by a far more prosaic take on what was unfolding in front of him. The horror, he had to admit, had subsided. He could only conclude that this was what was meant by thinking on your feet and adapting to a situation that had sprung from nowhere and wasn’t going to go away. There would be consequences, not least the financial ones that would have benefited the union of two great wine-producing houses, but he would face those down and, more importantly, he would do so without grudging resentment. He would man up. He was good at that. He’d been doing it since he was a kid, when his mother had died and he’d been left in a wilderness.
‘At least, not now.’
‘You mean...’ The weird marriage conversation began replaying in her head and she stared at him.
‘Tomorrow, I will begin the process of breaking the news to all parties concerned.’
‘Luca, no.’ Cordelia felt that she had to interject before he got carried away. ‘I didn’t come here looking for...for that kind of solution.’ She thought of the mysterious, wonderfully suited fiancée he had conveniently failed to tell her about and, just in case he started getting all the wrong ideas, added, ‘We both agreed that what we had was just something that happened in the moment. We both agreed that we weren’t, fundamentally, suited to one another. I know things have changed with this...situation...but it doesn’t mean that we have to start thinking about getting hitched, because we don’t. I am very happy for our child to have an ongoing relationship with you, which doesn’t mean that I have to as well. And marrying you isn’t going to do anything for my apprehension levels. You’re not a knight in shining armour riding in on a white stallion to save me.’
‘Cara, there is no option, I’m afraid.’
Cordelia stared at him and wondered how she’d managed to miss just how old-fashioned he must be, because no one in this day and age thought that a pregnancy had to be accompanied by a walk down the aisle.
Even in the village where she lived, Marsha Hall had had her baby out of wedlock and not too many eyebrows had been raised.
‘What do you mean?’
‘Maybe in your world,’ he said gently, ‘it is acceptable for a woman to have a baby while simultaneously relegating the father of the baby to the nearest wayside bin, but that’s not how it works in my world.’
‘Whoever said anything about wayside bins?’ Cordelia questioned faintly.
‘Provided, of course, that everything checks out, you will be having my baby and my baby will become the heir to...’ he looked around him in the manner of a warrior casually surveying the fruit of his many conquests ‘...all of this. As an only child, it fell upon me to take up the mantle of responsibility, to do as duty dictated, and so it will be for my son. Or daughter, of course.’
‘Sorry, but there are two of us involved in this equation, Luca. This child isn’t exclusively yours and it’s not a given that his or her future is to patiently do as told because that’s what duty demands! Besides...’ she narrowed shrewd eyes on his lean, handsome face ‘...weren’t you trying to run away from all that wonderful duty of yours when you got caught out in that storm?’
Luca had the grace to flush. ‘I don’t like the term run away.’
‘You know what I mean.’ Cordelia clicked her tongue impatiently.
‘I was having a bit of time out from my responsibilities. Everyone needs a holiday now and again.’
‘It wasn’t a holiday, Luca. Holidays are those things people take when they want to kick back and, most of the time, they don’t involve doing a disappearing act from the rest of the world and then faking their identity so that they don’t get caught out. Holidays are things that are booked in advance and everyone knows about them.’
‘Since when did you get so argumentative?’
‘Do you want to think about any child of yours being so harnessed to a yoke of responsibility that the only way to escape it is to disappear on a boat in the middle of the ocean where there are no prying eyes and no one telling them what needs to be done next?’
‘There is a lot of exaggeration in that statement,’ Luca said stiffly.
‘I don’t have the same aims as you, Luca, and I don’t like to think that any child of mine would have the same aims as you.’
‘We’re going to be married, Cordelia. My child...our child is going to be born into the Baresi family.’
‘You’re not being reasonable.’ Cordelia could hear the slight tremor in her voice. She had come here to deliver a message. She hadn’t dwelled on what the outcome of that message might be. Maybe, deep down, she had romantically dreamed of him telling her how much he’d missed her, welcoming the news about the baby, seeing it as an opportunity
