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“It’s about Johann. I’ve learned things that will hurt, maybe even embarrass you. But you have to know the truth.”
“Embarrass me, more than he already has?” Sam laughed mockingly. “How could he possibly embarrass me more?” She laughed again, slightly breathlessly, thinking she’d made a silly joke, and anticipating his laugh.
But Cristiano didn’t smile and she suddenly felt out of breath.
“He has another wife.”
Sam just stared at him. She didn’t know what to do, how to react. “He has another wife?”
“Yes.” There was no hesitation. “He still lives with her, part-time in Vienna. They were married ten years ago. He’s never divorced her.”
“That means…”
“Your marriage isn’t valid. You’re not legally van Bergen’s wife.”
Sam shook her head slowly. “I’ve never been his wife?”
“No.”
“I’m not Baroness van Bergen. The wife in Vienna is.”
“Yes.”
She felt as though he’d taken a sledgehammer to her head and she looked up at him where he stood silhouetted by the fire, dazed. “So what am I?”
Cristiano didn’t answer. He didn’t have to.
Sam was nothing. Just the nanny, always just the nanny. Forever the hired help.
Sam lifted a hand, touched her forehead. “Does he have children with her?”
“No.”
Thank God. “But he still sees her?”
“Yes.”
“Does she know about me?”
Cristiano shook his head slightly. “I don’t think so. She doesn’t leave Vienna. She doesn’t go out much with him.”
“Neither did I.” Sam laughed unsteadily. “I guess we made it convenient for him. It must be easy having two wives if you don’t take out either.”
“I know it’s a shock, Samantha. But you’re better off without him—”
“Of course I am!” She interrupted fiercely, surprised by the depth of her rage. “I didn’t love him. How could I love him? He was petty and selfish, vain and self-absorbed. He was horrible to Gabriela, horrible to me, but—” And then her voice broke, and the past four years hit her and she felt devastated, betrayed. “He didn’t even pay me!”
She looked up at Cristiano, alternately icy and feverish. “For three years I cooked and cleaned and sewed and gardened and received nothing. No allowance, no salary, no money, no income. Not even kindness.”
She wasn’t going to cry, she wouldn’t cry, it was so silly. So she laughed instead and turned away, looking toward the window, hiding the fact that her eyes were burning and her heart ached. Johann had treated her abominably. And she’d let him.
Let him.
In some ways it was a relief to discover she wasn’t Johann’s wife, but in other ways it was mortifying. Hurtful. Shameful.
All these years she’d worked so hard. She’d scraped, scrimped, selling everything she owned to help support Johann in his decadent lifestyle. My God. He must have been laughing all the way to the bank.
“That’s why he could gamble me away,” she choked. “I was nothing.”
“That’s not true.”
“It is. At least to Johann.” She shook her head, not wanting sympathy, never wanting sympathy, and yet she didn’t know what to do with the wretched feelings inside. “You must think me silly, but all I can think about is how he took my wedding ring back—said we needed it to pay bills. And how he insisted I cut Gabriela’s hair myself since we didn’t have money. And yet, he was the baron van Bergen and everyone loved him. Everyone fawned all over him while Gabby and I struggled just to get by.”
“Gabby’s lucky she had you, Samantha.”
Her lungs burned, her eyes stung but she didn’t let the tears fall. She sat up taller, straighter. “How long have you known?”
“Awhile.”
“And how long is that?”
“Longer than you’d like.”
She nodded jerkily. “So Johann never married Mercedes.”
“They had an affair, and were still living together in Monte Carlo when Mercedes died. Johann kept Mercedes’s baby.”
