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They had long told him his mother was ill and he had always accepted that. That her illness never got any better was a simple fact, nothing more.
But now he understood why his mother had her own set of nurses. Why he was only permitted to see her under supervision, and why, sometimes, he would hear the mad howling of the wind only to look outside and see that the trees betrayed no hint of any wind at all.
She’s mad, he had said that day, and it was a terrible thing, to speak what had only ever been whispered aloud.
She was driven mad, his father had corrected him.By the weight of responsibilities she was not built for. The fault is mine.
Boy, choose your wife with your legacy in mind.His grandfather had been frail by then, yet his voice remained strong.Never letfeelingsset the course of your life. Or you will pay.
Shewill pay, his father had concluded darkly.
Ago thought that he had taken that in. That he had made it the cornerstone of his existence. It was why he had spent so long selecting potential candidates who he imaginedmightmake good wives. His concern had always been living up to his legacy and making sure no stain ever appeared on the family name, or anyone associated with it, as long as he could help it.
His brother notwithstanding.
He had never intended to take for a wife a woman who got under his skin the way Victoria did. He knew she thought that he had considered her disqualified from consideration because he was some kind of chauvinist, and he was happy enough that she think so. It was far better than the truth.
That being that she was disqualified, eternally, because she threatened the self-control his entire life was built upon.
But as he lay in that bed with Rome outside the windows, Ago found himself smiling.
She set him alight. And Victoria was not experienced. Certainly not experienced enough to recognize how close to the edge he was whenever he was near her.
That meant he could use this thing between them to his advantage.
For Accardis did not divorce. And given how much he enjoyed her round and pregnant and bound to him, he saw no reason at all that she shouldn’t remain that way. It was a certainty that she had not spoken much abouther freedomas the night wore on.
He was perilously close to rejoicing.
Because it seemed that for once, Ago could have everything he wanted. He could do his duty and sort out the Accardi dynasty. Better yet, he need not worry that Victoria was not up to the job, for the truth was, she had been raised to do little else than carry this kind of weight. She had been trained to be the wife of a great man, and little as that might appeal to modern sensibilities, it was what he needed.
That she also happened to have a body that had clearly been created to drive him wild was a bonus.
And not only because the way he wanted her meant he need not find a convenient mistress on the side, as so many men he knew did, thereby becoming the kind of person he had always despised—forhedid not break vows.
But because it also provided him with an excellent weapon to use against her.
To keep her right where he wanted her. Naked, pregnant, and so out of her mind with desire it would never occur to her to be anything but perfectly compliant.
CHAPTER SEVEN
DECEMBERSPOOLEDOUTlike a lovely set of twinkly holiday lights, each day a bit brighter than the one before. Christmas was almost upon them. She was married to the father of the baby that grew bigger inside her all the time.
And Victoria still hadn’t yet gotten over her shock at how things were turning out between her and Ago after he’d tracked her down in Rome.
She found herself humming her favorite carols to herself as she walked through the villa that morning, smiling as she saw all the holiday cheer.
The Yule log is usually the extent of my family’s Christmas decorating, he had told her when she’d asked if there were plans to properly deck the halls.
A log, she had repeated. A bit flatly, it was true.
Sometimes it is also a dessert, he had told her, and since they had been in bed for this conversation, he had leaned in closer to kiss his way down the length of her neck.Though it is not as sweet as you,mia mogliettina.
That’s not the most festive thing I’ve ever heard, Ago, she had told him, trying to sound deadly serious while he made her laugh and shiver.I’m not going to lie.
Ago had ordered the staff to prepare her aproperEnglish Christmas that very same day, and they had gone all out. There were evergreen boughs strewn across every available surface. There were Christmas trees in every room, all decorated and gleaming. And though some might think such distinctly British splendor looked silly against all the Italian grandeur that made the villa such a showpiece, she liked it. It was a little bit of her and Ago, mixed together a lot like the baby they’d made.
The truth was, Victoria kept pinching herself to make sure this new version of her marriage was real. She was afraid she might leave permanent marks and anyway, she wasn’t dreaming this.
