Passion and the Prince

All the time she had been talking them they had been climbing the steps. Now they had reached the top, and Lily’s heart was pounding—but not because of any exertion involved. Had she understood the Duchess correctly? Had she instructed her housekeeper that she and Marco were to share a bedroom—and a bed? Lily tried to look at Marco, but the Duchess was linked between them, beaming first at Marco and then at Lily, obviously very proud of what she had done and no doubt thinking she was doing them both a favour.

‘I have to say, Marco,’ the Duchess continued blithely, ‘I think that Lily is the perfect girl for you. You both feel so passionately about Italian art and history, and my late husband always used to say that shared interests remain a strong bond between a couple long after the first flush of romance has faded. Ah, good—here we are. Do come in and admire my ancestors, Lily. I hope I may call you Lily? After all we are practically family already, since Marco and I are distantly related.’

The villa’s hall was round, with a wonderful balustrade stairway rising exactly opposite the front door then branching off to form a round gallery landing. The design was repeated on each of the three floors, so that it was possible to look up from the ground floor and see the stained glass dome of the cupola several floors above them.

‘When the sun is overhead, the light from the stained glass makes the most magical patterns. When we were children my brother invented a game whereby we had to chase the moving pattern of a certain colour all the way up and down the stairs. He was older than me, and he always won. He should have inherited the villa, of course, but he was killed during the Second World War. He was only nineteen.’

Lily was listening to the Duchess, but at the same time she was tense with inner anxiety as she waited for Marco to explain to her that there had been a mistake and they were not a couple. Only he said nothing, and now the duchess was exclaiming, ‘Ah, here is my housekeeper, Berenice. She will show you to your room. I hope you don’t mind, but I have taken the liberty of organising a small reception here tonight. Just some old friends I know will enjoy meeting you, Lily. They all have connections with the area and its villas, so don’t be shy about asking them any questions you may have. We’ll meet again in the main salon.’

Their room.

Lily gave Marco an imploring look but still he said nothing, and continued to say nothing until they were alone in the villa’s best guest suite. Lily asked him anxiously why he had not corrected the Duchess’s misapprehension about their relationship.

‘If you had not come to my room last night we would not be in this situation.’

Marco’s uncompromising statement couldn’t be denied, but Lily still shook her head as she paced the elegant suite. Marco stood in front of one of the room’s long sash windows, his head turned so that he was half looking out across the lake and half looking back into the room.

‘I know why the Duchess thinks that we are a couple, but you could have told her the truth. You could have explained to her …’

‘I could have explained what? That you came to my room seeking to use me—either to protect you from your ex or to make him jealous? Is that really what you would have wanted me to say to her? ‘

Without giving her the chance to answer, Marco gave a dismissive shake of his head, telling her grimly, ‘Anyway, she likes you. She wouldn’t believe me.’

He didn’t have to say that he neither understand nor shared the Duchess’s feelings. The tone of his voice said it for him.

She mustn’t allow herself to feel hurt yet again, Lily warned herself. But it was too late. The pain was already flooding through her.

‘She’s a romantic,’ Marco continued. ‘She would simply think that I was trying to hide our relationship from her.’

‘We haven’t got a relationship,’ Lily told him. Tears were threatening to clog her throat.

‘The Duchess believes that we have. And not just a sexual relationship. She’s managed to convince herself that we’ve fallen in love with one another.’ The derision in Marco’s voice made Lily’s face burn. ‘If she knew you rather better, of course, she’d know that was impossible.’