‘I am not having hysterics,’ she said firmly. ‘I just-don’t know what’s happening.’

‘Then why are you shaking?’ he said, moving behind her and placing his hands on her arms.

‘I’m-I’m not-I’m-’

He drew her slowly back against him and folded his arms across her in the front. It wasn’t a hug, because he didn’t turn her to face him. He was as impersonal as a man could be who actually had his arms about a woman. Even through the whirling in her head she knew that he was soothing her in a way that involved no suspicion of intimacy.

It was oddly reassuring. He was telling her silently that she was safe with him because there was a line he would not cross, while the warmth and power of the body behind her seemed to infuse her with new strength.

‘Are you all right?’ he asked quietly.

His breath fluttered heatedly against the back of her neck. She tried to ignore it, as she guessed he expected her to do. In fact, she doubted if he’d given the matter a thought.

‘I don’t know. I don’t even know who I am any more.’

‘That’s probably the safest option for you,’ he observed with a touch of wryness.

Releasing her, he guided her back to where she could sit down, and said almost casually, ‘I suppose it was a man who lured you into this?’

‘Yes, I suppose it’s that obvious. He gave me a line and I fell for it. I don’t know exactly what happened. Maybe they caught him and he managed to put the blame on me.’

‘My love, trust me-love me. Nothing matters except that we should be together.’

‘Saving himself by sacrificing you?’

‘Yes, I think he must have done that.’

‘How refreshing to find you so realistic.’

‘After what’s happened to me, I have no choice but to be realistic.’

His mouth twisted ironically.

‘Some are born realistic,’ he misquoted. ‘Some achieve realism, and some have it thrust upon them.’

‘Nobody is born realistic,’ she parried. ‘We all have it thrust upon us, in one way or another.’

‘How true! How bitterly true.’

He spoke so softly that she wasn’t sure she’d really heard, and when she regarded him with a questioning look he walked away to the window. He stayed there, not speaking, for several minutes. At last he said over his shoulder, ‘I dare say Anna has spoken to you of my wife.’

‘She did say that Signora Fallucci died in a train accident, and that Liza was also injured. Liza herself told me that her mother was English. I felt that she seized on me for that reason.’

‘You’re right. It struck me as soon as I entered the compartment. I saw something in Liza’s face that I haven’t seen for months. She was content, almost happy. And then, the way she clung to you-I suppose I made my decision then.’

‘The decision to take me over, lock, stock and barrel? The decision to acquire me at whatever cost, even if it meant out-bidding the police?’

‘That’s a cynical way of putting it.’

‘How else would you put it?’

‘I might say that you were in need of help, as am I, and we decided to assist each other.’

‘When did I decide anything?’

‘My dear signorina, forgive me if I have been too precipitate. Clearly I should have introduced you to the police and waited while you chose between us.’

Silence!

He was smiling, but behind the smile there was the steel of a man used to having his own way and determined that it was going to continue. He had her helpless, and he knew it.

‘In fact, neither of us made the decision,’ he said with a shrug. ‘Liza made it. I’m merely following her wishes. I admit that the circumstances aren’t ideal but I didn’t create them. I had to act quickly.’

It was true, and every instinct warned her to go carefully and not antagonise him. But too many years of going carefully rose up in defiance now, robbing her of caution.

‘No, you didn’t create them, but you knew how to take advantage of them, didn’t you? Despite your talk of following Liza’s wishes, I’m little better than a prisoner-’

‘Not at all. Walk out whenever you like.’

‘You know I can’t. I have no clothes, no money, no passport…’

His response was to reach into his jacket and hand her a fistful of notes.

‘Go,’ he said. ‘I will order that the doors are opened for you.’

She backed away from him, refusing to touch the money and saying wildly, ‘Oh, yes? Where am I? Where do I go? What do I do? You’re just playing with me, and you should be ashamed.’

Holly could tell she’d taken him by surprise. There was a flash of anger, then he nodded.

‘I admire your courage, signorina. Foolhardy but admirable.’

‘Perhaps it is you who is being foolhardly,’ she snapped, not appeased. ‘You took me into your house, and all you know about me is that I’m on the run.’

‘But you’ve assured me that you’re innocent.’

‘Well, I would say that, wouldn’t I?’ she hurled at him. ‘It was a pack of lies to protect myself. How would you know the difference?’

Maria vergine! If you imagine that you could deceive me for a moment, you’re mistaken. If I didn’t think your worst fault was incredible naivety I would never allow you near my daughter.’

Her antagonism died. He’d read her correctly. Naivety was the kindest word for her.

‘Now, can we stop fencing and start being practical?’ he continued. ‘I want you to stay here as a companion to Liza. Berta does an excellent job caring for her, but she can’t give her what she really needs, the thing that only you can give her.

‘It’s clear that she sees you as a connection with her mother. You’re English, you can speak the language with her as her mamma did, and that will comfort her until she’s ready to let go. If you can do that, there may be something I can do for you. Is it a deal?’

‘Yes,’ she said, dazed. ‘It’s a deal.’

‘Good, then it’s all settled.’

‘Not quite. How long do you see this arrangement lasting?’

He frowned, as if puzzled by the question.

‘For as long as I say,’ he replied at last.

Of course, she thought wryly. What else?

‘Now, to details,’ he continued briskly. ‘As far as anyone else is concerned you’re a distant relative of my wife, paying us a visit. Liza calls you Holly, but I see from your passport that your name is Sarah.’

‘Yes. Holly’s a nickname that my mother gave me when I was five. I put a bit of holly in her bed one Christmas.’

‘It’s useful. Since the police are looking for Sarah Conroy, you won’t attract attention.’

‘But if they keep looking-’

‘That train was their best chance and they fumbled it,’ he said with a shrug. ‘Now let us be practical. Take this money. It’s your first week’s wages. You’ll be paid in cash because the less paperwork the better. Is there anything in your purse that has your real name?’

‘A credit card.’

‘Let me see.’

As soon as she produced it he took it from her and cut it up.

‘Hey!’ she cried indignantly.

‘Anything that connects you with your real name is dangerous.’

‘If I’m prepared to take that risk-’

‘But you might reflect that the risk isn’t only for yourself.’

The words were lightly spoken but they made her pause. He was a judge, concealing a woman fleeing the law. She wasn’t the only one in danger.

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