Page 38 of Forgotten Mistress, Secret Love-Child
A knock sounded on the massive double doors and Paulo’s voice introduced her visitor. Carys felt her jaw lock as his words rolled over her. Her body stiffened with disbelief.
Impossible as it seemed, the worst was even more horrendous than she could have anticipated.
Her stomach went into a freefall of shock.
How could Livia have done it? How could she have chosen this designer of all people? She must have known—
‘Signorina Wells?’ The softly spoken words finally penetrated. Reluctantly, stiffly, Carys turned.
The woman before her was just as she remembered. Slim, elegant, huge dark eyes in a gorgeous elfin face. Dressed with a casual grace and a fortune in pearls that accentuated her delicate appeal.
Was it any wonder Alessandro had planned to marry her?
Pain, razor sharp and vicious, sheared through Carys. She grabbed the back of a nearby chair rather than double up in anguish. Desperate tension crawled up her spine as she strove to school her expression.
‘Principessa Carlotta.’ The words were rusty, thick, the product of a throat aching with distress.
Did they really expect her to submit to this woman’s ministrations?
‘Carlotta, please.’ Her smile was warm, her husky voice appealing. Carys registered surprise that she seemed so approachable. So apparently ready to befriend the woman Alessandro had chosen over her.
Carys knew if their places were reversed she couldn’t behave so blithely.
‘Forgive me.’ The other woman stopped a few paces away, her smile disappearing as concern etched her brow. ‘But are you all right? You look very pale.’
Carys wasn’t surprised. It felt as if all her blood had drained away. She clamped her hand tighter around the chair back, summoning the strength she needed to stay upright.
‘I’m…’What? Surprised to find my husband’s ex-lover here?
Or was she still his lover?
The thought smashed through her rigid self-control and Carys found her knees crumpling. Abruptly she sat, grateful to discover an antique sofa behind her.
‘You’re unwell. I’ll call for assistance.’
‘No!’ Carys cringed at the idea of a fuss. She couldn’t believe her own weakness. She’d faced this years ago. It was just the shock of meeting her rival face to face. ‘It’s jet lag,’ she murmured. ‘We only arrived a few hours ago.’
Despite her exhaustion, she hadn’t been able to sleep in the vast gold-on-cream bedroom suite she’d been given. She’d felt out of place and on edge, her mind whirring.
‘Forgive me, signorina, but I think it’s more than that.’ Dark eyes scrutinised her carefully. It was clear the princess was an astute woman.
Carys released the breath she’d been holding. She couldn’t play this charade. She’d never been good at dissembling. She’d rather face facts, however unpalatable.
‘Won’t you sit down?’ Her voice sounded choked.
After a moment the princess took a chair opposite, every movement a study in fluid grace and elegance.
Carys felt like a country bumpkin in her presence. Carefully she locked her hands in her lap to stop them shaking, then drew another sustaining breath.
‘The truth is it was a shock to see you.’ She paused, watching the other woman tilt her head in curiosity. ‘I saw you once with Alessandro, two years ago.’
Pride screamed at her to stop there, to retain her dignity. But despite the craven impulse to keep quiet, Carys refused to play games of innuendo and unspoken secrets. She wasn’t that sophisticated. If her blunt unrefined ways didn’t fit her husband’s milieu, then so be it. If she was going to live here she had to face this.
‘I was Alessandro’s lover,’ she said, her voice stretched thin like fine wire. ‘But then I discovered he was planning to marry you.’
There. It was in the open. No hiding from the truth now.
The other woman’s mouth sagged and her eyes widened. There was shock in her expression and the taut lines of her neck. Now, this close, Carys wondered if she’d been unwell. She seemed almost gaunt, suddenly fragile rather than chic.
‘It was you? I thought there was someone, but Alessandro never said.’
‘No.’ Bitterness filled her mouth. ‘Alessandro kept me very much to himself.’
‘But you’ve got it wrong.’ The other woman leaned forward, one thin hand stretched out.
‘No, principessa. I know exactly how it was.’
‘Please. You must call me Carlotta!’ There was such tension in her small frame and wide eyes Carys didn’t demur. ‘And Alessandro and I were not planning to marry.’
What? Carys sat bolt upright in her seat, torn from welling self-pity in an instant.
