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Lucy knew the purpose of this trip was to remove her from his mother’s life, but it still stung to be reminded. Flashing him an angry glance, she saw the strong jaw clench as if to control some unwanted reaction, but a moment later she knew she had been mistaken.
‘Anyway, it has nothing to do with me now,’ he said with a negligent shrug of his broad shoulders. ‘But do feel free to tell my mother to cancel.’ A mocking smile curved his mouth. ‘Rather you than me.’
Silently fuming, ten minutes later Lucy finally found her underwear, neatly packed away in drawers in the dressing room. She picked out a black dress from the few clothes she had brought with her, hanging forlornly in an enormous bank of empty wardrobes.
She had no time to fix up her hair, and had to be content with brushing it back behind her ears and fastening it with a silver slide at the nape of her neck. She used moisturiser on her face, and after a touch of mascara to her long lashes and an application of lipstick to her lips she slipped her feet into a pair of high-heeled sandals and was ready.
Finally she fastened a diamond-studded platinum watch on her wrist. It had been her mother’s, and was her most treasured possession. She only wore it on special occasions. Though this wasn’t a special occasion so much as a nightmare.
She had argued with Lorenzo that it was up to him to cancel the party, but he had shrugged her off. He had said it was up to her, as the party was basically for her benefit and if she insisted on going home on Wednesday, as planned, the party would not take place. He’d actually had the audacity to say that of course his mother would probably never speak to her again, which was a good result as far as he was concerned, and then walked out.
He knew damn fine, Lucy thought, walking down the grand staircase at a minute to eight, that it wasn’t in her nature to be so appallingly bad-mannered. But then again maybe he didn’t know—he thought she was little better than a street walker anyway.
She hesitated in the hall and adjusted the thin straps of the classic short black fitted dress she wore—another of Lorenzo’s purchases. Her thinking was that she might as well wear them in his company, because once this charade was over they were going to a charity shop. She looked around. The walls were lined with what she guessed were family portraits, because the men all had a look of Lorenzo about them—though not quite as striking—and the women were all beautiful. Suddenly she didn’t know what she was doing here, and was tempted to run back up the stairs.
But Gianni the butler appeared, and offered to escort her to the dining room. Smiling, she thanked him, her moment of panic over. Then her high heels slipped on the marble floor and she grabbed his arm, laughing with him as they entered the room, where Lorenzo and his mother were chatting quietly.
Both heads turned, and the butler quietly withdrew as Anna smiled and stepped forward. ‘Lucy, I hope you are rested. I was so overcome by your gift I forgot you had been travelling all day and forgot my manners, I’m afraid,’ she said disarmingly.
Lucy smiled. Anna was a delightful lady—a pity about her son, she thought, glancing at Lorenzo. He was lounging against the fireplace, a glass of what looked like whisky in his hand.
‘Shall we sit down, ladies?’ he suggested, straightening up and crossing to the long dining table perfectly set with silver and crystal. He pulled out a chair for his mother and Anna sat down. Then, crossing to the other side of the table, his dark eyes resting on her, he drawled softly, ‘Lucy, cara. Be seated,’ and gave her a smile, acting the perfect gentleman.
But Lucy knew otherwise, and realised immediately the endearment was for his mother’s benefit. She returned his smile with a false one of her own and took the seat he offered.
After a rocky start, the dinner was not the ordeal Lucy had expected.
Anna insisted she try the red wine she’d had the butler open in her honour—an especially good one from a renowned Tuscan vineyard—and Lorenzo sat at the head of the table, with Lucy and his mother either side of him, which meant the two women could talk easily across the table.
The first thing Anna said, after the wine glasses were filled and the wine tasted, was, ‘Lucy, dear, I know it was presumptuous of me to arrange a party for Wednesday evening, but I didn’t realise your time was so limited and you were going home that day until Lorenzo told me earlier. He suggested it might be difficult for you to stay longer, as you have a business to run, but I do hope you can. All my friends are invited, and the Contessa della Scala is coming—she is really looking forward to seeing you again. Now, with the portrait, the party will be even better. You will make an old woman very happy, plus you and Lorenzo can spend more time together.’ She beamed.
Emotional blackmail at its finest. Maybe it ran in the family? Lucy thought cynically. Lifting her chin, she looked at Lorenzo and caught the taunting gleam in his black eyes. She forced a slow smile to her lips. ‘Your concern for my business is touching, Lorenzo, darling.’ She baited him with an endearment of her own, and turned back to Anna as the first course was presented.
‘Unfortunately my friend Elaine, who is taking care of the gallery, is expecting me back by Wednesday evening because she has a dental appointment on Thursday morning. But it is not an insurmountable problem. I can ring her tomorrow and tell her not to bother opening on Thursday. I can be back before Friday.’
‘No, I would not think of putting you out that way,’ Anna said immediately. ‘Why should you lose business? Lorenzo can find someone to take care of your gallery for you, no trouble at all. In fact you could stay for the rest of the week. After visiting the dentist your friend would probably appreciate having the whole day off and more.’
Lucy had to bite her lip to stop herself laughing at the expression on Lorenzo’s face as he looked at his mother in astonishment—horror quickly masked.
‘You can do that, can’t you, Lorenzo?’ his mother queried.
Briefly he flicked Lucy a threatening glance, and she knew he saw the amusement in her eyes before he looked back at Anna.
‘Yes, of course I can, Mother—if Lucy agrees.’ His gaze was on her again. ‘I can probably arrange to get someone there by Wednesday afternoon, so Elaine can show them the ropes.’ An eyebrow rose as he asked innocently, ‘One day or two, Lucy?’
‘One will be fine,’ she said, knowing it was the answer he wanted. What was the point in defying him? She hadn’t wanted to stay longer in the first place, so why prolong the
agony? ‘I must be home by Thursday night.’
‘Good, then that is settled,’ Anna said, and they finished their first course of risotto with red wine and porcini mushrooms.
The butler offered more wine and Lucy agreed, surprised to see she had finished the glass. But it was really nice, and very mellow.
Anna could certainly talk, Lucy thought as the plates were cleared by the maid. Mostly about Antonio—while Lorenzo sat looking on, his face a blank mask, adding very little to the conversation.
‘According to the doctor Antonio was a miracle child. He was very ill when he was born, and it was touch and go for a while, but he made a complete recovery and was soon running all over the place like any other child. I did sometimes wonder if it was because I was a lot older when he was born that he had problems—it was ten years after I had Lorenzo. But he grew up to be a wonderful young man. I only wish I had kept him longer … ‘
It occurred to Lucy that if Anna had always been so loquacious about her youngest son it might go some way to explain why Lorenzo had grown into the hard, apparently emotionless man he was.
