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‘She is expecting a baby, Vittorio.’
She actually felt the earth shudder on its axis. There followed a moment of complete stillness.
‘What did you say?’ His voice was flat—curiously flat.
‘She and Santo—It wasn’t his fault, not really—That is, Sophia said—’
‘What did Sophia say, Cherry?’
His face frightened her. ‘She is petrified, Vittorio. She hasn’t even told Santo yet, and she insisted it was her fault. She persuaded him. He didn’t really want to—’
An explosive few words in Italian followed and Cherry was glad she couldn’t speak the language. She stared at him, her eyes huge in her white face, and found it actually pained her to see the agony and an almost boyish vulnerability distorting the hard handsome face.
He stood up, and she said quickly, ‘She isn’t here. She’s gone to see Santo. To tell him about—about the baby.’
He stared down at her, an avenging monochrome in the thick twilight in which stars twinkled above them and all nature seemed hushed and sleepy. It wasn’t right to receive such devastating news on a beautiful night like this one, she thought inconsequentially. This was a night for sweet dreams.
After what seemed an eternity, he sat down again. ‘Sophia asked you, a stranger, to tell me about her condition?’ His voice was icy. ‘Why is that?’
‘She—she thought that was best.’
‘For whom?’ The cold voice was scathing.
‘Actually for you, as well as her and Santo,’ Cherry said honestly. ‘She thought you might do something you’d regret in the first moments of knowing and she was seeking to avoid confrontation. I—I think she and Santo are going to come here in a little while to talk to you.’
‘Then there will indeed be a confrontation.’ His deep voice was low but with a piercing intensity that brought her heart into her throat. ‘Rest assured on that.’
She stared at him helplessly, wondering what to say, and then decided she had nothing to lose in stating the truth. ‘If you hurt Santo you will lose Sophia for ever. You know that, don’t you? Your nephew or niece too. She loves him, Vittorio. She wants nothing more in life than to be his wife and the mother of his child. That’s the way it is.’
‘Do not speak to me of how it is. What do you know? Before this day you had not even met Sophia,’ he bit out furiously, his voice shaking with the force of his emotion.
‘I know that, but
sometimes a stranger sees things much more clearly simply because they are a stranger and not involved. She knows exactly what she wants and it’s not a finishing school.’
‘She is a child.’
‘No, she isn’t.’
It was foolish to argue Sophia’s case, she knew that, so why was she doing it? Tomorrow she’d be gone from this house and she would never see Vittorio or Sophia again. The best thing she could do was make her excuses right now and go to bed, let Vittorio do as he saw fit. But if he lost Sophia he would regret it for the rest of his life and it would change him. She didn’t know how she had come by the knowledge, but she was sure of it. Deep fires ran in Vittorio and he would love or hate in equal measure.
‘Sophia isn’t a child,’ she repeated earnestly, ‘and it’s essential you see that right now before it’s too late. She wanted to belong to Santo, she orchestrated the event, and although she obviously didn’t think she would get pregnant she’s nevertheless delighted about it. I’m sorry if that cuts through your picture of your sister, but it’s the truth. She was always going to get married one day, Vittorio. It’s just happened sooner than expected.’
‘She will not marry Santo,’ he growled. ‘Her life would be one of hard work from dawn to dusk. It is not what my parents would have wished for Sophia.’
‘Or perhaps it’s not what you would wish for her?’ She couldn’t believe her temerity, and by the look on Vittorio’s face neither could he. ‘But she is a person in her own right, a flesh-and-blood human being, not a possession, and she has chosen her own road. For right or wrong.’
‘And if it is wrong?’ he ground out bitterly.
‘Then all you can do is be there for her.
As she spoke she thought it was almost as though she was talking to a parent about a wayward child, and in a way she supposed it was. Vittorio had brought Sophia up, he had sacrificed his own plans and dreams for her when he had let Caterina go, and he had been both mother and father to his sister for a long time. On top of that he had the burden of trying to fulfil what he imagined his parents would have wanted for their only daughter.
This last thought made her say quietly, ‘Your parents would not have wanted their only two children to become estranged, for whatever reason. You must know that, Vittorio.’
‘She has brought shame to the Carella name,’ he said, dark and angry. ‘Giving herself to a man before she is his wife.’
‘Oh, for goodness’ sake! What matters? Sophia or your stupid name? She isn’t the first girl to be in this situation and she won’t be the last. If you give her and Santo your blessing they can be married immediately and everyone will think the baby is early—and even if they don’t, so what? You don’t strike me as the type of man who thinks he has to answer to anyone.’
