‘And I’m not far away,’ Holly pointed out. ‘Just across the corridor.’
Liza smiled, content.
A special licence was obtained for a hurried wedding, to take place in two days’ time, in the private chapel at the back of the house. A few close friends were invited and everything was to be kept as secret as possible. Only Liza had any fault to find with this. She wanted to celebrate properly, and it was impossible to tell her the truth-that if the news leaked out that Judge Fallucci had married so quickly after Fortese’s escape, it would be practically an announcement that he was expecting the worst.
That this was no ordinary wedding was brought home to Holly in a dozen little ways, starting with Matteo saying, ‘Order your clothes online and have them delivered. On no account go into Rome.’
She didn’t have to ask why. She had said she was plunging into the unknown. Now she discovered how true that was.
Another time Matteo returned her passport to her. She studied it, her familiar name, and the face that now seemed to belong to someone else.
‘So now I’m me again,’ she murmured. ‘Whoever that is.’
The man who was to be her husband was a mystery to her. She knew that the tragedy of his marriage and his ruined fatherhood had caused him to shut down his heart. She knew him to be suspicious, harsh, exacting and alarmingly vulnerable. Beyond that she knew nothing.
Matteo spent the day before the wedding locked in his study with a civil lawyer who had brought papers for him to examine. The actual signing would take place tomorrow, immediately after the ceremony. He showed them to Holly, who saw that her legal position had been safeguarded. She was Liza’s guardian and the trustee for the child’s inheritance, which was two-thirds of Matteo’s fortune. The other third came to herself, plus a lump sum that became hers as soon as she was his wife.
When she saw the size of that sum she stared in astonishment.
‘It’s only fair,’ Matteo said before she could speak. ‘Let’s say no more about it.’
Her dress was a modest design of ivory lace, worn with a small, flowered hat. By good luck, the online store also had one small dress that exactly matched it, and Holly bought this for Liza, her bridesmaid.
The night before the wedding they were joined by his only other family members, the cousin who antagonised him and her husband. Holly disliked her on sight, and knew that it was mutual. Now she understood why Matteo was determined to keep Liza away from her, and that was a help. It enabled her to focus her whirling thoughts.
When the family was saying goodnight and mounting the stairs Matteo said quietly, ‘Will you give me a few moments?’ and showed her into his study.
So many times they had talked in the severe room, starting with the first night, when they had faced each other as adversaries whose mutual dependence drove them mad. Now they met for a reason that was almost as difficult.
‘These are for you,’ Matteo said, indicating something on his desk.
She was stunned at the sight of the three-stranded pearl necklace and matching earrings. Ignorant as she was about jewels, even she could see that these were real, and fabulously expensive.
‘My wedding gift,’ Matteo said.
She fingered them lovingly, awed by their beauty. But then a horrid thought struck her.
‘They’re not-you didn’t-?’
‘No, I didn’t give them to Carol. I wouldn’t insult you like that. Carol’s jewels are locked away until I can give them to Liza. My mother chose these to go with your dress.’
If this had been a real wedding he would have chosen her gift himself. If he had loved her he would have draped the pearls around her neck and fastened them. If she had loved him she would have given him something in return. As it was-
‘I haven’t got anything for you,’ she said. ‘I’d forgotten about presents.’
‘You’re already giving me the only thing I want or need. No other gift could mean anything next to that. Now, it’s getting late, and we should both retire. Tomorrow will be a heavy day.’
He held out the jewel box in businesslike fashion, she took it in the same way, and they bid each other goodnight.
Galina waylaid her on the stairs, full of delight, and led her into her new room.
‘I had your things moved in here an hour ago,’ she said. ‘There won’t be time tomorrow. You sleep here tonight.’
Her nightgown was laid out on the great bed. Her personal things were on the dressing table. There was nothing for her to do. In this drama she was really little more than a bit-player.
When she was alone she went around the room, trying to get her bearings. The house was several hundred years old, built at a time of greater formality. So the master and mistress occupied separate rooms, with a door connecting them. She stood before that door, trying to picture Matteo’s room on the other side. There was no sound and she guessed he was still downstairs.
She undressed, turned out the light and went to the window, where the curtains were still drawn back, and sat on the window seat, watching the moonlit garden. Now and then she glanced at the slight gap beneath the door where any light would show. There was none, and she wondered what he was doing downstairs. Was he finding excuses to stay there, unwilling to come to bed?
At last she heard his outer door opening and closing. But the light didn’t come on. Instead there was the sound of footsteps, then the soft click as the connecting door opened.
He had promised not to come to her, but it hadn’t occurred to her to check whether that door was locked. Now she sat, frozen, as he appeared. He was in his shirtsleeves, the collar torn open.
Slowly he went to the bed and stood there, looking down. The moon, shining in, showed clearly that there was nobody there.
He didn’t know she was there, Holly realised. Galina must have forgotten to tell him. He had come here because it was Carol’s room.
Slowly, terrified that he would notice her, she rose and moved further back into the shadows. From here she could see the outline of his face but not his expression as he regarded the bed where he had once known such joy and such bitterness. It was impossible to tell which of the two he was remembering as his eyes were deep-sunk black hollows from which all light had vanished.
He seemed to stand there forever, motionless, as though transfixed by thoughts too sad for words. Holly held her breath, afraid that he would sense her there, perhaps because her heart was beating so loudly that he was bound to hear it.
But at last he gave a sigh, as if the strength had drained out of him, leaving him only just able to stand. Slowly he turned and walked out of the room. After a moment Holly heard the key turn in the lock on his side.
Next morning Galina and Liza helped her to dress. Then they went to the chapel, where Liza took her place as bridesmaid, and they advanced down the aisle.
When Holly saw Matteo standing by the altar, waiting for her, the mists of the dream shifted and she discovered that it was really happening.
But then another reality intruded. This was a different Matteo, ten years younger, full of love and joy as he watched his beloved approach, to become his wife. That trusting young man had believed that a life of perfect happiness was opening for him.
How much of that other wedding was he remembering? Was he looking at her and seeing Carol, the one great love of his life, whose betrayal had ruined him for all other women? Did he regret this impulsive decision?
His face gave no clue. As she drew level he inclined his head to her, but he had no expression. His eyes, as he took her hand, were blank.
It went like clockwork. The words were spoken, the promises were given, the ties were bound. She was his wife.
No wedding would be complete without photographs, so they posed again and again, while one of Matteo’s friends took the shots that were expected: the bride and groom with the groom’s mother and little girl, the bride and Liza, happy together, the groom and his daughter, his mouth smiling, his eyes wary.