Best Friend to Wife and Mother?

‘What, all of it? It’s enormous! It looks as big as some of the little hilltop towns!’

He chuckled softly. ‘There’ll be all sorts of other buildings there clustered around it. It won’t just be the house.’

But it was. Well, pretty much, she realised as they approached the imposing edifice with its soaring stone walls and windows that she just knew would have the most amazing views. She couldn’t wait to get her proper camera out.

They drove under a huge stone archway in the wall and into a large gravelled courtyard, triggering lights that flooded the area with gold. There were several vehicles there, and Leo brought the car to rest beside a big people-carrier.

They were facing a broad flight of steps flanked by olive trees in huge terracotta pots, and at the top of the steps was a pair of heavily studded wooden doors, totally in proportion to the building.

She felt her jaw sag again. ‘Oh. Wow. Just—wow,’ she breathed.

Leo’s grin was wry. ‘Yeah. Makes my house look a bit modest, doesn’t it?’

‘I haven’t seen your house yet,’ she reminded him, ‘but it would have to be ridiculously impressive to compete with this.’

‘Then it’s a good job I’m not a sore loser. Unless you count a sea view? That’s probably the only thing they don’t have.’

She cocked her head on one side and grinned at him. ‘That might just do it. You know me—I always wanted to be a mermaid.’

‘I’d forgotten that.’ His cheek creased, the dimple appearing as he punched the air. ‘Ace. My house trumps the seat of the Valtieri dynasty.’

‘I did say “might”,’ she pointed out, but she couldn’t quite stifle her smile, and he laughed softly and opened the car door.

‘You haven’t seen my view yet.’

She met his smile over the top of the car. ‘I haven’t seen theirs, either. Don’t count your chickens.’

‘Would I?’ He grinned again, that dimple making another unscheduled appearance, and her heart lurched.

‘I guess we’d better tell them we’re here,’ she said, but it seemed they didn’t need to.

One of the great wooden doors swung open, and a tall man in jeans and a blinding white shirt ran down the steps, smiling broadly, hand extended as he reached Leo.

‘Massimo Valtieri,’ he said. ‘And you’re Leo Zacharelli. It’s good to meet you. Welcome to Palazzo Valtieri.’

He spoke in perfect English, to Amy’s relief, faintly accented but absolutely fluent, and he turned to her with a welcoming smile. ‘And you must be Miss Driver.’

‘Amy, please,’ she said, and he smiled again and shook her hand, his fingers warm and firm and capable.

‘Amy. Welcome. My wife Lydia’s so looking forward to meeting you both. She’s just putting the children to bed and the others are in the kitchen. Come on in, let me show you to your rooms so you can settle the baby and freshen up before you meet them.’

Leo took Ella out of the car seat and picked up the changing bag, Massimo picked up Leo’s bag and removed hers firmly from her grip, and they followed him up the steps and in through the great heavy door into a cloistered courtyard. The sheltered walls were decorated with intricate, faded murals that looked incredibly old, and more olive trees in huge pots were stationed at the corners of the open central area.

It was beautiful. Simple, almost monastic, but exquisite. And she couldn’t wait to start capturing the images. She was already framing the shots in her mind, and most of them had Leo in them. For his blog, of course.

Their host led them around the walkway under the cloisters and through a door into a spacious, airy sitting room, simply but comfortably furnished, with French doors opening out onto a terrace. The sun had dipped below the horizon now, blurring the detail in the valley stretched out below them, but Amy was fairly sure the view would be amazing. Everything else about the place seemed to be, and she just knew it would be crammed with wonderful photo opportunities.

Massimo pushed open a couple of doors to reveal two generous bedrooms, both of them opening out onto the same terrace and sharing a well-equipped bathroom. There was a small kitchen area off the sitting room, as well, and for their purposes it couldn’t have been better.

‘If there’s anything else you want, please ask, and Lydia said she hopes you’re hungry. She’s been cooking up a storm ever since you rang and we’d love you to join us once you’ve got the baby settled.’

‘That would be great, but she shouldn’t have gone to any trouble. We don’t want to impose,’ Leo said, but Massimo was having none of it.

‘No way! She’s a chef, too, and not offering you food would be an unforgivable sin,’ he said with a laugh. ‘Just as soon as the baby’s settled, give me a call on my mobile and I’ll come and get you. Both of my brothers and their wives are here as well tonight. And we don’t in any way dress for dinner, so don’t feel you have to change. We’ll be eating in the kitchen as usual.’

The door closed behind him, and Leo turned to her with a faintly bemused smile.

‘Are you OK with this? Because I’m well aware you’ve had a hell of a day and I don’t want to push it, but it does sound as if they want to meet us, or me, at least. If you don’t feel up to company, just say so and I’ll bring something over to you and you can have a quiet evening on your own. Up to you.’

Her stomach rumbled, answering the question, and she smiled ruefully. ‘Honestly? Yes, I’m tired, but I’m absolutely starving, too, and I’m not sure I want to spend the evening on my own. And anyway, as you say, it’s you they all want to meet. I won’t understand what you’re all saying anyway, so I’ll just sit in the corner and stuff myself and watch you all.’

‘I think you will understand, at least some of it. His wife’s English.’

‘Really?’ Another knot of tension slid away, and this time her smile felt a bit more spontaneous. ‘That’s good news. I might have someone to talk to while you’re in meetings.’

Leo chuckled. ‘I’m sure you will. I’ll just bath Ella quickly and give her a bottle and pop her into bed, and then we can go and meet the rest of the family.’

Ella! She hadn’t even given her duties a thought, but now she did. ‘Will it be all right to leave her, or do you want me to stay with her? It’s you they want to meet.’

He picked something up off a side table and waggled it at her.

‘Baby monitor,’ he said, by way of explanation. ‘They really have thought of everything.’

They had. Absolutely everything. There were posh toiletries in the bathroom, the fridge was stocked with milk, juice, butter and fresh fruit, there was a bowl of brown, speckled eggs and a loaf of delicious-looking crunchy bread on the side, and a new packet of ground coffee next to a cafetière. And teabags. Amy was glad to see the teabags. Real English ones.

While Leo heated the baby’s bottle and gave it to her, she made them both a cup of tea and curled up on the sofa to wait for him. Ella fussed a little as he was trying to put her down, but it didn’t take long before she went quiet, and she heard a door close softly and Leo appeared.

‘Is that for me?’ he asked, tilting his head towards the mug on the table in front of her.

She nodded. ‘I didn’t know how long you were going to be, so it might be a bit cold. Would you like me to make you a fresh one?’

‘No, it’s fine, I’ll drink it now. Thanks. I ought to ring Massimo anyway. I don’t want to keep them waiting and Ella’s gone out like a light.’

‘Before you call him—did you say anything to them? About me, I mean? About the wedding?’

A frown flashed across his face. ‘No, Amy, of course not. I didn’t think you’d want to talk about it and it just puts an elephant in the room.’

‘So—no elephants waiting for me?’

He gave a quiet grunt of laughter, the frown morphing into a sympathetic smile. ‘No elephants, I promise.’

‘Good,’ she said, smiling back as the last knot of tension drained away, ‘because I’m really, really hungry now!’

‘When aren’t you?’ he muttered with a teasing grin, pulling out his phone, and moments later Massimo appeared and led them across the courtyard and into a bustling kitchen filled with laughter.

There were five people in there, two men and three women, all seated at a huge table with the exception of a pregnant woman—Lydia?—who was standing at the stove, brandishing a wooden spoon as she spoke.

Everyone stopped talking and turned to look at them expectantly, the men getting to their feet to greet them as Massimo made a quick round of introductions, ending with his wife. She’d abandoned her cooking, the wooden spoon quickly dumped on the worktop as she came towards them, hands outstretched in welcome.