you weren’t around to ask,’ she said pointedly, ‘so I decided to lay the dining table.’ She picked up the plates of food. ‘Can you bring the salad?’
‘Are you always this bossy?’ Nicolo asked drily as he followed her.
‘I prefer the description “organised and efficient.” It’s why I’m good at my job. To be honest you could do with a bit more efficiency around here,’ Sophie told him. ‘The house is a mess inside, and outside it’s even worse. You can’t expect one cleaning lady to manage a house this size. Why don’t you employ more staff to take care of Chatsfield? I’m sure you can afford to. Christos said—’ She broke off when Nicolo frowned darkly.
He sat down opposite her at the dining table and leaned back in his chair, studying her from beneath heavy eyelids. ‘Christos said what?’
‘That you have made a fortune on the stock market. Obviously I can’t tell you how to spend your money …’
‘But I sense you are going to tell me anyway.’
She flushed at his sarcastic tone. ‘It seems a shame to let this grand old house fall to ruin. You grew up at Chatsfield, didn’t you? Surely you have happy memories of living here?’
‘A few, but I also have some not so happy memories.’
Sophie looked surprised. ‘I would have thought that living in a great big house with your brothers and sisters, and having the huge Chatsfield estate to play in and explore, must have been wonderful—running wild in the countryside, having picnics and coming home to your parents at the end of the day.’
‘It’s a nice fantasy,’ Nicolo said drily, ‘but my childhood wasn’t as idyllic as you seem to think. My parents weren’t around that much. My father was away in London running the Chatsfield Hotel business and my mother was—’ he hesitated ‘—unwell a lot of the time.’
He guessed depression was a form of illness. When he had been a young boy he had not understood the reason for his mother’s frequent crying bouts, or why she locked herself in her room and refused to see any of her children.
Memories resurfaced of him standing outside her bedroom, begging to be allowed in.
‘I want to see you, Mamma. I want to hug you, and then you will stop crying.’
‘Go away, Nicolo. Leave me alone.’
His mother’s rejection had hurt. He had thought perhaps he had done something wrong that had made her not love him anymore. Nicolo recalled how he had spent hours sitting on the floor outside his mother’s bedroom, because he had wanted to be near her.
‘So who took care of all the children in place of your parents?’ Sophie’s voice pulled Nicolo back to the present.
‘We had nannies. But none of them stayed for very long because our bad behaviour made them leave,’ he admitted wryly.
The baked trout was delicious, and for a few minutes Sophie concentrated on eating, but she was curious to learn more about her reluctant host.
‘What happened after you were burned in the fire?’ she asked tentatively, hoping he would not react angrily to her mentioning what had obviously been a traumatic event in his life. ‘Did your mother take care of you while you were recovering from your injuries?’
‘She wasn’t around by then.’ Nicolo’s jaw tightened as he relived memories that were still as raw as his burned flesh had once been. ‘My mother left the family when I was twelve years old. She did not know about the fire—or if she did hear she did not care about me enough to come and visit me during the many months I spent in a specialist burns unit.’
‘Oh, that’s awful.’ Sophie’s reaction was instinctively sympathetic. She knew from Christos that Liliana Chatsfield had walked out on her husband and children and had not been seen by any of the family again. Surely if Liliana had known her son had been badly burned she would have rushed to be with him?
The circumstances were different, but she understood what it felt like to be abandoned by a parent. True, she had remained in contact with her father after he had left. Her cancer had been in remission when James Ashdown had announced that he was leaving his wife and daughter to start a new life with his mistress. But Sophie had been devastated by her father’s decision. She could imagine the sense of rejection Nicolo must have felt when he had been lying injured in hospital and had desperately needed his mother.
‘You must have missed her,’ she said softly, ‘especially while you were in hospital.’
His expression was shuttered and Sophie had a strong sense that he disliked talking about his past.
‘She couldn’t have done anything to help,’ he said curtly. ‘I owe my recovery to the doctors and the nursing staff who looked after me. I didn’t need my mother fussing around me.’
Sophie found that hard to believe. She had certainly needed her mother’s support during her illness, and in a funny way her cancer had brought them closer together. While she had been growing up, her mother, Carole, had been busy with her career and Sophie had spent more time with her father. But when she had been diagnosed with cancer her mother had cut down on her work to be with Sophie while she was in hospital.
Had her father felt pushed out by the close bond that had developed between mother and daughter? Sophie wondered. Was that why he’d had an affair with another woman, which had ultimately broken up the family and broken Sophie’s heart?
She pushed the thought away and focused her attention on Nicolo. He had sounded dismissive of his mother, but Sophie sensed that he was adept at hiding his emotions and, in fact, had been deeply hurt by Liliana’s desertion and her failure to visit him when he had been injured.
‘How did the fire at the hotel start?’ she asked curiously.
‘I don’t know,’ he growled. ‘Why are you so interested? It was a long time ago. Trust me, Miss Ashdown, it is better to leave the past alone. I am growing impatient with you poking your nose into things that don’t concern you.’
Oh, dear, they were back to him calling her Miss Ashdown again. Clearly the slight thaw in Nicolo’s attitude towards her was over. Sophie regretted her curiosity. She had been trying to gain a better understanding of Nicolo but she’d hit a brick wall.
‘I’m just wondering why you are so opposed to helping restore the Chatsfield name to what it once was,’ she murmured. ‘The brand used to be synonymous with elegance and good taste, but that is no longer true. Frankly, every time the Chatsfield name features in the press it is usually followed by reports of scandalous behaviour by one of your siblings.’
Ignoring Nicolo’s deepening frown, Sophie continued, ‘It’s not surprising that your father wants to change the way the business is perceived. Gene is trying to do what is best for the Chatsfield. You might not understand the reason for some of his decisions but I truly believe he has acted the way he has because he loves his children and wants to help them. That is why he has appointed Christos as CEO. Because he thinks Christos can turn the hotel business’s fortunes around. But Christos needs the support of the shareholders—which means you. Surely, out of respect for your father, you should attend the shareholders’ meeting?’
‘My father is to blame for many of the company’s problems,’ Nicolo bit out. ‘It was his behaviour that first tarnished the Chatsfield name, and it was because of what he did that my mother …’
‘Your mother—what?’ Sophie broke the tense silence that had fallen. ‘And what did your father do? I don’t understand.’
‘You don’t need to understand.’ Nicolo scraped back his chair and stood up. ‘None of this is any of your concern.’
‘But you should be concerned,’ she said intently. ‘If you refuse to cooperate with Christos your father has threatened to disinherit you and withhold the allowance you receive from the Chatsfield family trust fund.’
‘I