Page 43 of Forgotten Mistress, Secret Love-Child
Guilt plagued her that she’d believed the worst of him. Her own insecurities had made her too ready to doubt.
Regret gave way to longing, and she found herself wishing this marriage was for real. For love, not expediency.
No! Alessandro wasn’t looking for love.
And nor was she.
‘Signorina?’ Bruno stepped close, his tone concerned.
‘Sorry, Bruno.’ Carys directed a wobbly smile at the bodyguard. ‘I’m just…gathering myself. It’s a little overwhelming.’
‘It will be all right, signorina. You’ll see. The conte will take care of you.’
As he’d taken care of all the wedding arrangements, with a ruthless efficiency that brooked no delay. She was merely an item to be checked off his list.
Acquired: one wife, ditto mother for my son.
Carys repressed a hysterical giggle and lifted her bouquet. The rich scent of orange blossom filled her nostrils, and she swayed, stupidly unsettled by the evocative perfume.
‘So he will, Bruno. Thank you.’
She was stronger than this. She didn’t do self-pity.
This was for Leo. She had to focus on that. Pushing back her shoulders, she stepped through the door Bruno held open.
Music swelled, the sound of murmuring voices faded, and she was aware of a sea of faces turned towards her. She let her gaze trawl the congregation rather than look down the aisle to where Alessandro stood, waiting to make her his wife.
Pain constricted her chest and she faltered, but curious stares prompted her to move on. They were all strangers, friends of Alessandro. No doubt assessing the bride to see if she lived up to expectations.
Carys lifted her chin, knowing at least she was dressed the part. Carlotta had done a superb job creating a stylish gown that made Carys look feminine and almost elegant.
In grey silk so pale it almost passed for cream, the dress was closely fitted from neck to hips, turning her curves into an almost hourglass figure. From there it flared into lush folds and a rippling train studded with azure beads like hundreds of flashing stars. Long, fitted sleeves and a high collar gave it a severe, almost medieval style, belied by the deep, slit neckline, embroidered with azure sapphires.
The effect was austere yet sumptuous. It was the most flattering, gorgeous thing Carys had ever owned.
She heard whispers as she passed, saw the envy in female eyes, and a tiny thrill of pleasure skimmed her spine.
Now she noticed smiles, one or two familiar faces.And suddenly, there were Alessandro’s three female cousins, whom she’d met only two days ago.Accompanied by their husbands and their brood of handsome children.All smiled broadly, nodding encouragement.
They’d chosen pews on the bride’s side of the church. Warmth invaded her chilled body at the thoughtfulness of the gesture. It made her feel she wasn’t quite so alone.
Then came Carlotta, beaming and gorgeous in ruby red, delight in her dark eyes. And Leo, clapping excitedly and calling to her from his carer’s arms. Carys leaned over and gave him a quick cuddle, gaining strength from the flood of love that rose within her.
The buzz of whispered conversation began again and she straightened, feeling the curious stares stabbing into her back. She turned and there was Livia, her fixed smile cool.
This was the woman who’d tried to keep Alessandro and Carys apart. How would she react if she knew that, despite this charade, they were virtually strangers? That the ceremony was a cruel parody of the dreams Carys had once cherished?
Momentary pleasure faded as reality slammed into Carys. It obliterated her tentative poise and transfixed her with a knifeblade of regret through the chest.
Finally she couldn’t ignore any longer the tall man looming before her. Impatience radiated from every superbly tailored inch.
Her fingers clenched on the bouquet as she fought the impulse to run pell-mell back up the aisle and away to freedom. Blood rushed in her ears and her body tensed for flight.
Then he extended one powerful arm, his hand outstretched towards her. She felt his regard like a lick of flame on her face and her body. Her skin prickled in response.
There was no escape. He sucked the air from her lungs and shattered the remnants of her defiant courage.
Like an automaton she stepped forward, letting Alessandro capture her hand. Feeling in that moment the inevitable thrill of energy his touch always evoked.
Yet even that couldn’t thaw the chill around her heart.
If only they were marrying for any other reason. If this was about caring instead of custody.
Desolation swept her. If only Alessandro remembered the past, remembered even a little of what they’d shared. But he didn’t. Probably never would. Only she recalled the glory as well as the pain, the companionship and the ecstasy and the sense of belonging that had made their relationship unique.
