Sara Craven Tribute Collection

‘Let’s talk some sense here.’ Hester walked over, refilled her glass, then resumed her station at the window. ‘I never felt that you and Chris were the couple of the year. You met and liked each other, and it—drifted from there.’

She shrugged. ‘Maybe you’d both reached a stage where marriage seemed a good idea, and you were content to settle for just all right rather than terrific. It happens a lot, and in a lot of cases it probably works perfectly.

‘But not for you, Flo. That red hair of yours gives you away. You’re really an all or nothing girl, and sooner or later you’d have realised that. It’s much better that it should happen now, before the wedding, even if the endgame was a bit drastic. But you didn’t plan it that way, so stop beating yourself over the head. Ultimately it’s all for the best.

‘And, if it comes to that,’ she added, frowning, ‘why wasn’t he here seducing you himself? If he hadn’t been off with the lads, this Italian guy wouldn’t have been able to get to first base with you.’

‘We weren’t joined at the wrist,’ Flora objected.

‘Or anywhere else, I gather,’ Hester said drily.

She paused. ‘Have you heard from Chris since it happened?’

‘No,’ Flora said bitterly. ‘But I’ve had calls from practically all our families and friends. Clearly Chris recovered enough to get on the phone from the hotel and spread the bad word about me. By the time I got back here the answer-machine was practically bursting into flames. My mother—his mother—even my bloody stepsister banging on about little Harry’s disappointment over the loss of his pageboy role.’

‘Nightmare stuff,’ said Hes. ‘And universal condemnation, I suppose?’

Flora shrugged. ‘My mother’s disowned me completely. Says I’ve brought disgrace on the entire family and she’ll never be able to hold her head up at the bridge club again. And, according to Chris’s mother, in more right-thinking times I’d have been whipped at the cart’s tail.’

‘Prior to being stoned to death, I suppose,’ Hester said acidly. ‘Charming woman. Pity there isn’t a public hangman any more. She’d have been ideal. Well, at least you’ve escaped having her as a mother-in-law. That’s one bright spot amid the encircling gloom.’

She paused, then said carefully, ‘And what about your Signor Valante? Has he been in touch since yesterday?’

‘He drove me back here. I don’t think either of us said a word. He brought in my bag and said he regretted the embarrassment he had caused me. And went.’ Flora made a brave attempt at a smile. ‘End of story.’

‘Presumably because he’s hideously embarrassed himself.’ Hester sighed. ‘After all, it was the most appalling coincidence to choose that hotel out of all the others you could have gone to.’ She was silent for a moment. ‘Whose decision was that, by the way?’

‘It was Marco’s suggestion, but he didn’t pressure me into it. He said we could take pot luck somewhere else, if I wanted.’ Flora shook her head. ‘I should have obeyed my instincts and taken him at his word. Only Aldleigh Manor did sound lovely.’

‘Wonderful,’ Hester agreed drily. ‘Just the place to meet one’s friends.’

‘Oh, don’t.’ Flora blew her nose, destroying another tissue. ‘Anyway, it happened, and it’s over. And Marco’s gone. I just hope I never have to set eyes on him again,’ she added, her voice cracking in the middle.

‘Pity,’ said Hester. ‘I’d have liked to meet the man who finally made you into a woman. Because under all the woe, my lamb, there’s a new light burning.’ She gave her friend a worldly look. ‘Nice, was it?’

‘I don’t want to discuss it.’ Flora crunched another tissue in her hand.

‘That good, eh?’ Hester said reflectively. ‘So what are your immediate plans, once you’re over your crying jag?’

‘I’ve got to get away for a while. I’d already been considering it, and now I’m sure. I feel bad enough about all this without having to field the angry phone calls,’ she added, shuddering. ‘I need to get myself back on track—somehow.’

‘And you really don’t want to see Marco Valante again?’

‘Never—ever.’

‘That’s tough.’ Hester came away from the window. ‘Because he’s outside, just getting out of a car.’

‘Oh, God.’ Flora scrubbed at her tearstained face. ‘Don’t let him in.’

‘Nonsense.’ Hester grinned at her as she went into the hall to answer the doorbell. ‘I want to meet him, if you don’t. I might even shake hands with him for his sterling efforts on behalf of repressed womanhood.’

‘Hester!’ Flora shrieked, but it was too late. The front door was being opened and there was a murmur of voices in the hall.

A moment later, Hester returned, her face wearing a faintly stunned expression. ‘You have a visitor,’ she said, standing aside to allow Marco to precede her into the room. ‘And I have places to go and things to do, so I’m sure I leave you in good hands.’

‘No—please. There’s no need…’ Flora began desperately, but Hester simply blew her a kiss, added an enigmatic wink, and departed.

Leaving Flora staring at Marco across the back of the sofa. She was horribly conscious of how she must look, in ancient jeans and a sweatshirt, her hair pulled back carelessly into a rubber band, her face pale without the camouflage of cosmetics, eyes reddened through weeping.

He, on the other hand, was immaculate, in another elegant suit, but his usual cool assurance was not as much in evidence. There was an odd tension about him, she realised. There were signs of strain in his face, the skin stretched tautly across the high cheekbones, and his eyes were watchful, even wary, as they studied her.

And yet, in spite of everything, she felt the familiar, shaming clench of excitement deep within her at the sight of him. The uncontrollable twist of yearning that she was unable to deny.

She felt more tears welling up suddenly—spilling over. He made a small, harsh sound in his throat and walked round the sofa to sit beside her. He took a spotless handkerchief from his pocket and began to dry her face, his touch gentle but impersonal.

When she was calm again he studied her gravely for a long moment. ‘My poor little one,’ he said quietly. ‘Have you discovered you cared for him more than you knew?’

She shook her head. ‘I wish I could say that,’ she said huskily. ‘But it wouldn’t be true. I—I would have broken off the engagement anyway, but I never meant it to happen like that. To publicly humiliate him in front of his friends.’

‘Then why are you crying?’

Because, she cried out in her heart, I thought I would never see you again. Because I’ve just realised that, for me, it was never just sex. That, God help me, I’ve fallen in love with you. But I know you don’t feel the same, so this has to be a secret I can never share—with anyone.

She gave a wavering smile. ‘Perhaps because I’ve never had so many people concertedly angry with me before.’ She swallowed. ‘The general view is that I’ve done an unforgivable thing.’

He was silent for a moment. ‘That is a harsh judgement,’ he said at last. ‘Engagements are broken every day.

‘But not by me,’ she said. ‘I—I’ve always been so—well-behaved. And now I’m a bad lot. A scarlet woman, no less.’

He said her name, on a shaken breath, drawing her into his arms and holding her close. She flattened her hands against the breast of his shirt, absorbing the comforting warmth of his body, feeling the beat of his heart under her palm. Content, she realised, just to be near him. And how pathetic was that?

He took the band from her hair, running his fingers through the silky waves to free them, lingering over the contact. She could sense the pent-up longing in his touch, and her heart leapt.

‘Your friend told me you are planning to go away for a while,’ he said at last. ‘Is that true?’

‘Yes.’ She bit her lip. ‘I know I’m being a wimp, but Chris seems to have told everyone about us, and I’d rather not face the music for a while.’

‘Have you decided where to go?’

‘Not yet.’ She shook her head. ‘I don’t seem capable of active planning at the moment.’

‘But your passport is in order?’

‘Yes, of course.’

‘Then that makes it simple,’ he said. ‘I shall take you back to Italy with me.’

Her lips parted in a soundless gasp. She stared up at him. ‘You—can’t be serious.’