‘Thank you for telling me,’ Chloe said. As Mrs Guest left, closing the door behind her, she wondered what the older lady had made of the message. While she and Lorenzo had been together they’d never slept in separate bedrooms.
Chloe crawled into bed and tried to sleep, but although she was exhausted she couldn’t relax. All she could think about was Lorenzo’s final comment that she would remain his wife.
She couldn’t understand why he had said that. It didn’t seem to make any sense. Deep in her heart she longed to stay married to Lorenzo—she still wanted everything she had wanted when she accepted his proposal to be his wife.
But the situation was completely different now. She had Emma to consider. And now she knew that he did not love her.
The following morning Chloe found herself alone in the house. Or rather, Lorenzo was not there. Mrs Guest was in the kitchen and her husband was working in the garden.
Chloe busied herself looking after Emma, but her mind was full of confusing thoughts about the future, making it impossible for her to relax. So she carried Emma out into the garden, hoping to find a way to distract them both.
Once again she was struck by what a beautiful place Lorenzo had bought. Chloe knew he hadn’t intended it to be their main home—he would never leave the grand Venetian palazzo, which had been in his family for generations. But this house with its clean modern lines and light, airy feel made a very pleasant complement to the ornate, history-filled palace.
‘Good morning!’ Mr Guest appeared around the corner of the house carrying a box, which appeared to contain some kind of baby’s toy.
‘Hello.’ Chloe smiled. It was a relief that Lorenzo had employed such a friendly, down-to-earth couple to look after the house. She’d always felt slightly uncomfortable around his formal and super-efficient staff in Venice.
‘I thought the little one might like a turn in this.’ He held up the box and Chloe realised that it contained a high-backed baby’s swing seat. ‘I don’t know how old she is, but it says on the box that it’s suitable for infants six months and up.’
‘She’s five and a half months now,’ Chloe said, looking down at the baby in her arms, ‘but she holds herself well, and I’m sure she’d love to try it.’
She followed Mr Guest back round the corner, to a charming children’s play area, complete with swings, slides, a climbing frame and a covered box that Chloe assumed was a sandpit.
‘This is amazing,’ she said as she watched Mr Guest attach the swing seat to the wooden frame. ‘Did the previous people have children?’
‘I don’t think so. Mr Valente had this done when he bought the place. I know neither of you realised you’d have a little one so soon, but your husband is obviously very keen on kids. There we are,’ he added, stepping back and eyeing his work to ensure the seat was hanging level. ‘Give that a try.’
‘Thank you,’ Chloe said, as she carefully secured Emma in the seat and gave her a little push. But Mr Guest’s comment about Lorenzo had taken her aback. She’d never thought of him as being keen on children. And after she’d seen him with Emma the previous day, the opposite seemed more likely to be true.
‘She likes that!’ Mr Guest chuckled as the baby gave a squeal of delight. ‘I’ll leave you to it, then. If you need anything, just give me a shout. Or call my wife—that’s the back door to the kitchen right there.’ He picked up the empty cardboard box and his tool bag, and headed off around the house.
Chloe glanced up and saw Mrs Guest through the kitchen window. She lifted her hand to wave, then turned back to Emma, who was clearly having a wonderful time in the swing.
But Chloe’s thoughts were on Lorenzo, and his attitude towards children.
As far as she could remember, she’d never actually seen him interact with any babies or older children—although that hadn’t ever seemed unusual because no one they spent time with had a young family.
But yesterday in the limousine he’d seemed truly uncomfortable around Emma, and that had made Chloe start to wonder if he only wanted children inherit his Venetian legacy. Now she realised that must be the reason why he’d married—to secure himself an heir.
She pushed her hair out of her eyes, unaware of the cloudy expression on her face.
‘Hello, Chloe.’
Lorenzo’s deep voice startled her, and she spun round to see him standing just a few feet away. He was dressed in a dark suit, as if he’d just come from a business meeting, and his clothing seemed incongruous in the garden, especially standing next to a wooden climbing frame.
‘Why did you marry me?’ she suddenly blurted. ‘If love didn’t come into it—then why did you pick me? I’m short and ordinary-looking. I have no money or connections. You could have had anyone you wanted. Why me?’
‘I already told you,’ Lorenzo said, without missing a beat. ‘Because I thought you’d make a good wife.’
‘Don’t you mean a good mother?’ Chloe accused him, tipping her head back to shake the hair out of her eyes. ‘You just married me to have children.’
‘You want children too,’ Lorenzo replied flatly but, despite his level tone, his gaze slid across to the baby in the swing seat. ‘In the circumstances, it’s fortunate that you didn’t marry someone dead set against children.’
‘You heartless beast!’ Chloe exclaimed, snatching Emma up into her arms.
‘No, I didn’t mean—’
‘Save your smooth-talking explanations,’ Chloe cried. She held Emma high against her shoulder and she bent her head over, pressing her cheek against the baby’s soft, wispy hair. ‘You say you want children and that I’ll be a good mother—but what about you? What kind of father will you be? All you’ve done is stare at Emma like she’s some kind of impostor!’