‘Then you will help me?’ The younger girl’s face was suddenly transfigured. ‘But how? Guido told me he asked you to take the place of the Signora, but you would not. And it will be hard for us to keep in touch when you are in Cenacchio. I cannot always think of reasons to come here.’
‘Then I’ll just have to come to the Villa Minerva,’ Clare said resignedly.
‘You mean it? You will tell Guido you have changed your mind? Oh, that is wonderful.’
‘Yes,’ Clare said, wincing inwardly. ‘I’ll tell him.’
And, as if she’d conjured him up from some dark place in her soul, she saw him walking across the square towards them, with Violetta chatting vivaciously at his side.
‘Guido,’ Paola carolled. ‘Guess what. Clare says she will be my companion after all. Isn’t that good news?’
Guido halted, his brows lifting as his dark gaze swept from Paola’s triumphant face to Clare’s tense figure.
‘I am overwhelmed,’ he said courteously, after a pause. ‘Particularly as you seemed so adamant at our last meeting. May I know what has brought about this change of heart?’
‘I’ve had time to think things over,’ Clare returned evenly. ‘And I realise there could be mutual advantages in the situation. I planned to spend a few months in Italy, and working locally I can continue to see Signora Andreati in my free time.’
She paused. ‘I presume I shall have free time?’ she added. ‘That you won’t expect me to maintain a round-the-clock watch on Paola?’
He gave her a long, dispassionate look. ‘These are details, signorina. I am sure we can work out an arrangement that will be agreeable to us both.’
‘Oh, not signorina,’ Paola protested. ‘So dull—so antiquato. You must say Clare, as I do. And she must call you Guido.’
‘As I’m going to be the Marchese’s employee, maybe a certain formality should be maintained.’ Clare returned his cool look with compound interest.
‘It shall be exactly as you wish—Miss Marriot. And staying in touch with your godmother should not be a problem either, as I hope very much she will consent to be my guest at the Villa Minerva for a few weeks. While you are—finding your feet, shall we say?’ He turned the charm of his smile on Violetta. ‘Well, signora, will you do us all the honour of accompanying the signorina when she joins my household?’
No way, thought Clare. No one’s ever managed to winkle Violetta out of the Villa Rosa at this time of year. And just as well, because I’m going to need somewhere to retreat to. And Paola might need a temporary refuge too.
But, ‘How very good of you. I should be delighted, Marchese,’ Violetta proclaimed sweetly, offering him a melting look as he bowed over her hand.
‘Naturally I do not wish to interfere with any plans you have made for her entertainment,’ Guido continued. ‘But it would be helpful if Miss Marriot could take up her duties as soon as possible.’
‘That will be no problem,’ Violetta assured him serenely. ‘We are at your disposal, signore. Clare, indeed could join you tomorrow, and I will follow as soon as I have made the necessary arrangements at home.’
Clare found she was sitting with her mouth open, and closed it indignantly.
‘Arrange my life, why don’t you’ she muttered under her breath.
She had the feeling that she was being swept along on some inexorable tide. That things were already out of her control. And it was not a sensation she relished.
She’d allowed her concern for Paola to railroad her into a decision she would certainly regret, she realised with resignation. But it wasn’t irrevocable. She was no longer Guido Bartaldi’s prisoner, and could leave whenever she wanted.
She came out of her less than reassuring reverie to the awareness that he was watching her, a faint smile slanting the corners of his mouth, as if his thoughts were providing him with some kind of private satisfaction.
She lifted her chin in silent challenge, wishing she could read his gaze. He wasn’t wearing sunglasses today, so there was no artificial barrier between them, but it made no real difference. He was still an enigma to her. A puzzle she had no hope of solving.
But maybe that was a good thing, she told herself soberly. Arm’s length, and more, was the safest distance with a man like him. She had already glimpsed what devastation even a fleeting intimacy with him could evoke. Just the memory of his hand—his mouth—on her skin made her tremble inside.
She could not afford any more such moments of weakness.
‘Come, Paola.’ Guido Bartaldi extended his hand. ‘We should return home and prepare to receive our guests.’
The other girl pouted, but she rose readily enough and went to his side, sliding her arm through his with a casual familiarity that seemed to belie her earlier protests about their relationship.
Perhaps I won’t have to do a thing, after all, Clare thought with an odd pang. Maybe all he needs is to court her properly—gently and romantically—and she’ll forget all that other nonsense and fall into his hand like a piece of ripe fruit.
And that would solve a whole lot of problems, she thought, stifling a little sigh, as polite goodbyes were said and the Marchese and his future bride moved away across the square.
So why did she feel no happier at the prospect?
‘You will need clothes,’ Violetta planned, over more cappuccinos.
‘I think we’ve been here before.’ Clare gave her a despairing look. ‘I have a perfectly adequate wardrobe already.’
‘Not for the Villa Minerva,’ Violetta said firmly.
‘For my position there,’ Clare said steadily. ‘You may be a guest, but I’m simply the hired help.’
‘Why do you speak of yourself in such a way? You are going to be the little Paola’s companion. You will be expected to join in her social life, so—you must dress appropriately.’
‘I don’t go around in rags now,’ Clare said with spirit. ‘And you’ve already paid for an evening dress for me. I don’t need anything else.’
Violetta expelled a sigh of pure exasperation. ‘Dio, how can you be so stubborn—and so blind?’ she demanded. ‘Don’t you see what an opportunity this is for you?’
‘It’s just another job, with, hopefully, a decent reference at the end of it,’ Clare said calmly.
‘But in the course of this job you will get to meet many people.’ Violetta made a dramatic gesture that nearly sent her cappuccino flying. ‘It could change your life.’
Clare gave her a level look. ‘The people in question being men?’ she suggested.
‘Well?’ Violetta said defensively. ‘Is it so impossible? You are a beautiful girl. You do not seem to appreciate that.’
‘Perhaps because I know how little it means.’ Clare tried to speak lightly. ‘James used to tell me I was the loveliest thing he’d ever seen. But I couldn’t compete with Ginny Parrish trailing her father’s millions past him.’ Her smile was crooked. ‘I suddenly found I was being lovely all by myself.’
‘So that is what happened.’ There was compassion in Violetta’s bright eyes. ‘You never spoke about it before.’
‘I don’t know why I’m talking about it now,’ Clare said a touch wearily. ‘Unless it’s because I’m watching another merger masquerading as marriage, and it tends to revive unhappy memories.’
‘Cara, not all men are like this—James. One day you will meet someone who will value you for yourself. Who will not care how much money you have.’