‘Everything?’
He snagged the wine bottle and leaned across, topping up her glass before she thought to protest. Then he refilled his own before turning back to her.
‘You think I missed home?’ His mouth twisted bitterly and sadness snaked through her. Poppy couldn’t remember caring for her father, but she’d loved her mother and missed her warm cuddles when she went away to school. Hadn’t Orsino felt the same?
‘My father sent us away the week after my mother abandoned us.’ Orsino reached out and twisted the stem of his wineglass on the white linen cloth. ‘We were too much of a handful to stay home.’
‘What, all of you?’ She knew he had older siblings.
‘Maybe he blamed us twins.’ Orsino shrugged heavily as if shedding a burden. ‘Our mother was apparently a vivacious, gracious woman, full of joy and life. But after delivering Lucca and me she slumped into severe postnatal depression. She withdrew from everyone and never recovered. In the circumstances you’d think it foolhardy of our parents to have another child after us, but eventually they did.’
He lifted his glass and took a long swallow. ‘When Cara was born our mother’s depression got worse. She just left one day and we’ve never heard from her since.’
Poppy gaped. She’d heard that Orsino’s mother wasn’t around but she’d never imagined this. ‘But didn’t she—?’
‘There was no more contact.’ His mouth was grim. ‘Clearly she didn’t want to be found. I tried myself some time ago, but the trail had gone cold years before. Wherever she is, alive or dead, we’ll never know.’
Poppy leaned forward and covered his hand with hers, her heart contracting at his bitterness and the pain she sensed behind that stern expression. ‘I’m so sorry, Orsino.’
What had it been like, believing your father blamed you for the loss of your mother? That’s what Orsino implied and the notion horrified her. They’d been tiny, innocent children!
‘Your father must have been distraught.’
‘Must he?’ Orsino’s hand clenched on the table beneath hers. She felt the vibrating tension in each sinew. ‘I suspect he was busy with other … diversions. Whatever the case, he wasn’t interested in us. He wasn’t the sort of father to fly kites or kick a football with his sons.’
Orsino’s hand turned, his long fingers threading between hers. ‘Our mother rejected us from the day we were born. She rarely spent time with us so I have few memories of her. At least she had a reason, given her depression. But our father? He left it to staff and our older siblings to bring us up. Antonio and Lucilla tried their best but they were only teenagers themselves. As soon as our mother walked he packed us off.’
‘I’m sorry.’ The words were inadequate but they were all she could manage.
How could she not have known this? What did it say about their brief marriage that this was new to her? The thought of those two little boys, alone and unloved, scraped at something raw and painful inside.
‘Don’t be sorry.’ Orsino drew her hand to his mouth and pressed a kiss to her fingers. He turned her hand over and laved the sensitive skin of her wrist till she shivered and delicious excitement rippled through her.
‘School was a relief. It had rules and structure and routine that we’d never had before. And no matter how fierce some of the teachers were, I always knew they’d notice if I disappeared.’
Poppy blinked at that devastating assessment.
Orsino believed his father hadn’t noticed his absence? What sort of man was Gene Chatsfield? She’d give a lot to tell him just what she thought of a man who abandoned his children.
‘Are you and your father closer now?’ He hadn’t been at their wedding, but as they’d eloped with no family or fanfare, that meant nothing.
Orsino’s laugh was harsh. ‘You’re kidding. He’s too busy with his precious new woman and his all-important business to bother with anything so mundane. Though I did hear from him last month. Not him personally, of course, but via his new CEO. He wants me to be the face of Chatsfield Enterprises. Something about my philanthropic work being good PR for the company.’
Poppy reached out her free hand and palmed his cheek, wishing she could smooth away the hurt Orsino still carried deep inside. That scar on his forehead would heal and silver. What about the scars he carried internally?
‘We’re neither of us lucky with our fathers, are we?’ His smile was lopsided.
‘But what doesn’t destroy us makes us stronger,’ she reminded him.
Orsino reached up and removed his sun glasses. His heavy-lidded eyes scrutinised her with an intensity that should have scared her. Instead she met his stare, marvelling at the man she’d uncovered. The man who’d overcome neglect and rejection to grow strong and decent, a champion for others, a man who, despite his surface bravado, cared deeply.