Page 25 of Second Marriage

'No.' Romano's answer was instant. 'We will wait.' He turned to her as he added, 'You wish this?'

'Of course—you know I do,' she said quietly.

'Yes, I know.' His eyes held hers for a long moment and then he stepped forward, hugging Donato to him briefly before he pushed him gently towards the door. 'Go on—go back to her,' he said softly. 'Everything will be well.'

They sat in a stunned kind of silence for some minutes after Donato had left, the muted sounds of the hospital filtering through to their quiet little room now and again, and then Romano began to talk, his defences lowered by his overriding worry for his friends.

Claire knew she was in a unique position, that she was hearing things he had probably never expressed be­fore, and she sat quietly at first, barely breathing.

'Nothing can be allowed to go wrong with this birth— nothing. Not after all they have gone through. When I think of all the children who are unwanted and unloved, born to parents who have no time for them… But Grace and Donato are not like that.' He was staring at her with­out really seeing her. 'They loved Paolo so much it was almost painful to see them all together. They will love these two in the same way.'

'I know.'

'You were born into a happy family?' he asked, his eyes focusing on her troubled face.

'Yes, very happy,' she said quietly. 'I have five older brothers, so I was teased unmercifully, but I always knew they would have done anything for me, and Mum and Dad loved us all. We had a lot of fun together, the eight of us.'

'Sì, this is how it should be.' He smiled mirthlessly, his eyes remote again as he looked inward. 'My mother gave birth to me just twelve months after she married my father, and fortunately I was the heir my father wanted. I say fortunately because if there had been girls before me they would have had to endure the same love­less existence I did, and I would not wish that on any child. My father's life was his own small empire. He lived to exert power and make money, nothing else mat­tered, and he was easily the most ruthless individual I have ever come across. I have seen him break a man, emotionally and mentally, and take great pleasure in do­ing so.'

'But your mother—she wasn't like that?' Claire asked softly, trying to hide the horror she was feeling.

'My mother was a social animal of the highest order,' he said quietly. 'She lived to entertain and be enter­tained. I heard her say on numerous occasions when I was growing up that if she had had to endure another pregnancy she would have killed herself, and there is no doubt that she meant every word.'

His beautiful dark eyes registered her shock and he smiled coldly, the black eyebrows twisting sardonically. 'You do not think a woman could feel like this? Oh, I assure you it is true,' he said softly. 'Not that she had a particularly bad time, as I understand, she just couldn't bear the physical changes of carrying a child. I do not think she ever forgave me for what she termed the most debasing and degrading experience of her life. So you see she too was unutterably thankful I was the required heir and her duty was done.'

'But…but when you were born they must have loved you,' Claire protested weakly. 'Especially as they both wanted a boy.'

'I was given to a nanny on the day my mother re­turned from hospital, and as far as she was concerned that was that. My father would visit the nursery peri­odically throughout my childhood, to check on my pro­gress and order the necessary retribution if I wasn't mak­ing sufficient headway, and my mother… I really do not remember her visiting my quarters once, although I sup­pose she must have done at some time or other. I was normally taken to her.'

He took in her anguished face and smiled, a real smile this time that melted the ice in his eyes. 'It is all right, Claire, it is not the tragedy,' he said softly. 'My nanny was a wonderful woman, and I think I was quite happy until she left to get married when I was almost seven. I was then sent away to boarding school, but in the holi­days, when I came home, I saw Donato, and from the age of nine or so I spent most of my time at Casa Pontina when I was in Sorrento. The two sets of parents were friends socially, although I have often wondered what Liliana's private opinion of my mother was. Liliana was very maternal.'

Claire couldn't bear it. She just couldn't bear to think of him as a small boy, struggling to prove himself to parents who regarded him in much the same way as an expensive car—an appendage that reflected on them and must be seen to be of the very best at all times. He was acting as though it was all understandable, but what must it have done to his idea of himself, to his sense of self-worth? And she had thought he had had it all. Well, he had—all of everything that didn't matter a jot and noth­ing of anything that was really important to a child.

She forced the tears back with superhuman effort, knowing he would hate it if she cried for him, and man­aged to speak quite normally. 'So that is why you and Donato are so close,' she said quietly. 'You must have been through a lot together.'

'He was, and is, the brother I never had,' Romano said simply. 'Through his mother I learnt what mother-love can be, his father always took the time to listen to me, talk to me, and Donato himself was a friend, a brother, who I knew would never let me down.'

'And then there was Bianca.' She had to speak the name, get it out in the open, although it was hot and caustic on her tongue.

'And then there was Bianca,' he agreed softly, the shutter she had seen so often before falling across his face.

'I suppose it was always expected you would marry her?' she asked painfully. 'With the two families being so close, and you growing up with her, it was the perfect outcome.'

'This was the general opinion when we announced our engagement.'

'I'm sorry you had such a short time with her as your wife.' Claire felt as though her heart were being torn out by the roots. 'It must have been devastating for everyone concerned—not just you, but Donato and Lorenzo—'

'You know she was adopted?' he asked suddenly. 'When it was not expected that Liliana could have more children after Donato?'

'Yes, I think Grace mentioned it once,' Claire said quietly.

'So there was no Vittoria blood in her veins,' he con­tinued tightly, as thought she hadn't spoken. 'None.'

'I…' She didn't know what to say, staring at him with big brown eyes as she sought the reason for such a strange comment. Was he saying that in spite of looking on Donato as a brother, and on Liliana and her husband as substitute parents, the fact that Bianca had been adopted had made it easier to fall in love with her, that it removed the 'sister' connection? That must be it. She really couldn't think of any other reason for him stress­ing the point. 'She was very beautiful,' she managed at last, trying to keep her voice from shaking. 'I… You must have made a lovely couple.' It was pathetic, she thought numbly, but it was all she could think of through the whirling pain and jealousy and hurt.

'"A lovely couple…"' His voice was reflective, smooth, even, but possessed of such a coldness it made her shiver, and her eyes snapped up to his face again. 'Sì, we made a lovely couple, Claire. Many people said this.'

Oh, she couldn't stand this, she just couldn't. It was destroying her.

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