Page 15 of Unveiled As The Italian's Bride
But she hesitated when Angelina stopped, folded her arms and demanded her dad do the bedtime routine. His being around for a bedtime ritual was rare, and it was only when she glanced across to see Antonio looking shrewdly at this sketch that she blushed, not quite knowing what to do. Did she tear Angelina away from her father, politely insist? Remind Dante what he was supposed to do when presented with his daughter’s current book?
‘Dante, I think your daughter demands that you settle her.’ Antonio chuckled, removing the decision from her hands. His eyes were sharp. ‘Kate, why not sit with me a while? It has been some time since we chatted.’
Kate met Dante’s dark gaze and their eyes tangled and held for a few breathless seconds. Yes, Dante might have an idea of his daughter’s bedtime ritual, but he was so very often back late. Bedtime rituals with young children were always evolving, sometimes on the back of something as small as what might have happened at school that day, some childish gossip far more important than whatever book happened to be on the go.
Kate lowered her eyes but her lips twitched, and she knew that Dante was very much aware of the sudden flash of amusement on her face, just as he knew exactly what she was thinking.
She turned to Antonio and smiled brightly, and was aware of Dante hovering uncertainly as they both left him to his own devices and headed towards the kitchen. She could hear Angelina’s excited chatter fading in the background.
‘No staff,’ Antonio said, settling her and then fetching them both a glass of wine. ‘Food has been prepared and is in the oven. Supper when Dante is back down. You may have noticed that much of the palace has been closed off. I confine myself to a few rooms. It is my health and my age. It is all too much. But what joy to have you all here, and let us not mention how heart-warming and unusual to see my nephew fulfilling his paternal duties...’
‘Unusual?’
‘As unusual as you all being here, visiting the invalid at the same time, my dear.’
‘You’re hardly an invalid,’ Kate teased gently, although she could see lines of anxiety etched on his face that she couldn’t recall being there before. Had Dante mentioned anything? They should have spoken, but too late now.
‘That is very kind of you, my dear. But enough of me. It is good to have you all under my roof for the first time.’
‘Hardly for the first time...’
‘Ah, but not often enough, my dear. An old man comes to rely on these small pleasures. Seeing you together... I should take this opportunity to tell you a little of my beloved nephew, although I should also add that this is to remain between the two of us.’
‘I—I’m not sure I want to be in a position, er...’
‘In a position of hearing about my nephew? Now, now. At heart, are we all not curious about one another?’
Kate burst out laughing and Antonio smiled broadly.
‘That’s below the belt.’ She was still laughing when she said that.
‘But is it not the truth?’ He gestured broadly, briefly reminding her of Dante, who often made the same exotic, expansive gestures when he talked. ‘He is a product of his background. A harsh upbringing, my dear, will always breed a man who is unfamiliar with the gentler side of human nature.’
This was the first time Antonio had ever delved into any kind of personal commentary on his nephew. They had always got along famously. He adored Angelina, and was fun to be around, but confidences of this nature? Never in the past.
Something trickled through her but she couldn’t pin it down. She was suddenly eaten up with curiosity. It swept through her like a tidal wave, making her wonder how long it had been there, like a pernicious weed waiting for an opportunity to push through the polite barriers she had always had in place—a month? Six months? A year? Ever since the first moment she had seen him and been rendered mute by the shock of his dark, dangerous beauty and his cold but stupidly charismatic remoteness?
That, too, sent a trickle ofsomethingthrough her.
‘He’s an incredibly kind man,’ she heard herself say, meaning every word of it. ‘And very fair. Agoodman.’
Antonio’s bushy eyebrows shot up but he smiled and nodded approvingly. ‘He is all those things and more—but his parents? My brother? They were strict, cold, did not believe in displays of emotion. Dante was reared to inherit the crown, so to speak. He was never allowed the little freedoms his friends enjoyed.’
Kate listened in silence but she felt the sting of sympathy prick the back of her eyes.
She could all too well picture a boy developing into a man, his life conditioned to point in one direction, with the weight of his future duties resting heavily on his shoulders.
She knew what Antonio was telling her. He was telling her that there was a reason his nephew was so stilted with his daughter, and she was suddenly desperate to dig deeper, to find out if he had always been like that even when he had been married. Had he relied on his first wife to provide the things his upbringing had not equipped him to provide, such as spontaneity and a sense of playfulness? The ease of a physical connection?
She also wanted to ask him what had prompted his sudden urge to confide but, before she could work out how to broach that delicate subject, he leaned into her and confided, ‘Old I may be, my dear, but far from an old fool. Not long ago, I told my nephew that it was time for him to leave the past behind, to marry, and now...’ he sat back and spread his arms wide with a satisfied expression ‘...here you are. Both of you! What a happy occurrence!’
What had they done?Kate thought. Was he suspicious? Or did he think that she and Dante were—what?A happy couple in love? In some place of blissful courtship which had been simmering for months on the sly? Dante must have let something slip, given some hint of what was to come. This was all part of their arrangement, discussed in advance, and yet deceit carried its own rancid odour.
In that moment, she decided that she would spare her parents that deceit. In the meantime, she opened her mouth at least to try and quell some of his unrealistic expectations but, before she could say a word, the kitchen door was pushed open and Dante was with them.
She drew in a sharp breath, aware of him as never before and wondering whether it was because of what Antonio had told her.
‘Dante...’ She caught his eye and tried to signal something but he raised his eyebrows, smiled and told her that he had found it impossible to follow the plot in the ballerina book Angelina had insisted he read to her.
