‘No,’ she said honestly.
Kathy didn’t cry. He had given her good news. At last he believed that she wasn’t a thief. It had only taken him the guts of a year to reach that happy conclusion but, hey, later was better than never. She put on a crisp blue cotton robe and went into the bedroom to join him.
‘I was hired to act as Mrs Taplow’s companion and provide her with basic meals by her nieces, Janet and Sylvia. I hardly ever saw Sylvia because she worked. They lived in the village about a mile away,’ Kathy told him, curling up on the giant bed. ‘Mrs Taplow lived in a big old house. On my first day Janet explained that her aunt was suffering from the early stages of dementia and that I should pay no heed to her stories about her things disappearing.’
Sergio elevated an ebony brow and sat down on the bed beside her. ‘Didn’t that make you suspicious?’
‘No. I was too glad of the job and somewhere to live. The old lady did seem a little confused sometimes but she was very nice,’ Kathy confided ruefully. ‘Janet asked me to clean the silver, which was kept in a cupboard, and she told me that it was very old and valuable. There was a lot of it and, to be honest, I barely looked at the stuff as I cleaned it.’
‘But no doubt you put your fingerprints all over it.’
‘A few weeks later Mrs Taplow got very upset and claimed that two pieces of silver had gone missing. I couldn’t have said either way, but I mentioned it to Janet and she said her aunt was either imagining things or that she had removed them herself and hidden them somewhere. She insisted that Mrs Taplow had done that before. Mrs Taplow wanted to call the police, but I dissuaded her,’ Kathy recalled unhappily.
Sergio closed a reassuring hand over hers. ‘What happened next?’
‘The same thing again—but I noticed the pieces that had gone missing and I searched all over the house for them without any luck. I started feeling uncomfortable, but Janet told me not to be silly and that the items would turn up eventually. I had no reason to doubt her. I had a day off. I was supposed to be meeting Gareth and I was getting dressed when the police arrived,’ Kathy whispered, sick at the memory of the moment when her world had begun to come crashing down around her. ‘They searched my room and the Georgian jug was found in my handbag. I was charged with theft. I thought maybe the old lady had put it in there, but then I was told that she
didn’t suffer from dementia.’
‘Madonna diavolo…you were hired and set up, so that her niece could steal from her and ensure that you got the blame.’ His dark eyes were grim.
‘But there was no way of proving it when Janet denied it. It was my word against hers and she was a church warden. There was a large amount of money involved in the silver that had gone missing.’
‘But the evidence was circumstantial.’
‘Three different solicitors dealt with my case, but I was still convinced that I’d be proved innocent. I didn’t really understand how much trouble I was in,’ Kathy admitted shakily. ‘I was in shock for days after the guilty verdict and it was too late then. There was nobody on the outside to fight my corner.’
Sergio tried to retain a hold on her hand but she trailed her fingers free and turned her head away. He sprang upright and moved back into her field of vision. ‘It must have been a terrifying ordeal.’
Kathy lifted a narrow shoulder in a jerky shrug.
Tall, dark and impossibly handsome, Sergio hovered at the foot of the bed. ‘I had no idea, amata mia. I feel like a total bastard.’
‘Don’t. Let it go. I don’t blame you for thinking the worst. Plenty of other people have reacted the same way,’ she told him ruefully. ‘But it consumed too many years of my life and I don’t want to waste any more time on regret.’
‘However long it takes I will clear your name. I swear it,’ Sergio intoned in a raw undertone.
‘Is it that important to you?’
Sergio dealt her a questioning look. ‘Of course it is. You’re my wife.’
It was the early hours before Sergio came to bed that night and she noticed that he didn’t reach for her the way he usually did. In fact, it was the very first night they had ever spent together when they slept so far apart that they might as well have been in separate beds. The next morning he was gone when she awakened and she thought unhappily that that might be for the best.
While Kathy had no desire to read what the newspapers made of her criminal conviction, she had the sinking suspicion that Sergio would read every word and feel the humiliating sting of it to the primal depths of his macho soul. As a result she had no appetite for breakfast and she passed most of the day with Ella, worrying about the future of their marriage. After all, while he might accept that she had been wrongfully convicted, he still had to live in a world where everybody else would most assuredly believe his wife was guilty as charged. He wasn’t in love with her, so there was no safety net to strengthen them when things went wrong; there was no reservoir of forgiving love and tolerance to draw on.
Late afternoon, Sergio strode in, dressed in a black business suit teamed with a gold tie. He looked extraordinarily handsome and unusually tense and pale. Black lashed dark eyes inspected her. ‘I’ve been flat out all day but you usually walk in and out of my office when I’m working, bella mia. Where were you?’
In the strained atmosphere, Kathy veiled her troubled gaze. She had lost the confidence to assume that she would be welcome. In addition, his personal staff had flown in early that morning and would presumably have read all about their employer’s jailbird wife. On a day when she really just wanted to hide herself away a brave smile of indifference had proved too much of a challenge. She had also feared that her presence would embarrass him. ‘With Ella…I forgot you were going to London tonight.’
‘Twenty-four hours max and I’ll be back. I don’t like leaving you.’
‘I’m fine,’ Kathy hastened to protest, for a woman who needed looking after like a child could hardly be an attractive prospect to a male as independent as he was.
‘By the way, that newspaper article? It was nothing.’ Sergio shrugged but failed to meet her gaze. ‘Don’t worry about it.’
But she did; she couldn’t help it. Guilty or otherwise, she had become a source of embarrassment. His reserved manner warned her that events had hit him hard. Both Tilda and Maribel rang her that evening and proved their worth as loyal friends. Tilda invited her and Sergio to spend a weekend in Bakhar and Maribel offered to stay on the yacht with Kathy for a few days. Kathy thanked her and gently refused. The next day, Sergio phoned and told her that he would be away longer than he had expected.
Forty-eight hours after that, Kathy flicked on the television in the bedroom and up came the Italian news channel that Sergio always watched. Before she could change station, her husband’s picture appeared on screen and her hand stilled on the remote control. That was swiftly followed by film of Grazia emerging from a hotel and Sergio emerging from what looked like the same building. Her grasp of Italian wasn’t good enough to translate the accompanying commentary. She had to use the internet to check the report out and, although there was very little information available, what she found out shattered her.