Sunday 30 January 2011

Chapter Three


He could hear his bothers hushed Italian voices as he strode towards his home office. Basilio looked at him with a regretful shrug when he silently entered; Nico went on not noticing his presence.
“...This is madness; even you have to see that. He can't be thinking straight. She can't stay here, she’ll dest ...” Nico stopped abruptly and turned to face Alessandro.
“I'm so glad you have confidence in me little brother,” He said tersely.
“Ordinarily I would put my life in your hands Sandro, but this... this! You are not thinking with a clear head.”
“And what is it you’d have me do?”
“I...a...” Nico deflated and sat down heavily in the chair.
“Exactly. There is no other choice. I cannot and will not have this families name dragged through the mud because our brother sought revenge against the arranged marriage.”
“She doesn’t have to be your responsibility. Does she! You are strong Sandro, but even you must see this is a disaster waiting to snare you,” Nico said as he dropped his head into his hands.
“Nico, do not worry so. I was young and stupid then. I can assure you that nothing or no one will ever have that effect on me again. you can rest at ease little brother, I got over that years ago,” Alessandro bolstered and hope that his words held the conviction he wasn't feeling. He knew darn well that this had the potential to blow up in his face but he was the head of this house and as such this landed squarely on his broad shoulders. He just hoped that they were broad enough to withstand the weight.
Nico changed to English, trying to drive home his point no doubt, he only ever spoke in English when he wanted to make sure his words where being heard loud and clear.
“All the same, you are not the only one here who can do this. I should be the one to take her, not you!”
A loud crash came from the hall, they all stopped talking and turned to see what had caused it. Alessandro saw her and moved to the doorway.
“India, are you alright?”
Her face looked pale, the same shade as before when she fainted and he stepped closer to her in case she did just that. There must be something seriously wrong with her, she dropped like a stone for no reason he could see, and with the glass from the vase scattered at her feet he feared she would topple onto it and cut herself.
“You promised me,” her voice wobbled out as she pressed herself into the wall, like she was trying to disappear into it.
“I did, and I am a man of my word.”
“But... but,” she flustered darting her eyes into the room he was now blocking.
“There are no buts’ Cara. I will keep you safe, you have my word,” he said extending his hand to her. She did not take it but stepped around the glass and tentatively walked towards him. The need to comfort her and wipe the frightened look from her eyes was fierce yet he knew instinctively that she would not find comfort in him. And he would most certainly not find her comfortable in his arms.
“Come, I will introduce you to my brothers and we will talk,” he told her as he went back into the room. Nico glared at him and spoke in Italian.
“You called her Cara, Sandro. Now I know this is a bad idea,” Alessandro searched his memory... he had done no such thing.
“You are imagining things brother and talking in Italian is not helping her to calm down or to trust us. Do not mention your insecurities in front of her and talk in English...  Please.”
 “Please have a seat India. Can I get you anything? A drink perhaps?” He asked as he poured himself a brandy.
“N.. no thank you,” she choked out, her voice sounded dry to him, he took out a bottle of still water from the office fridge and handed it to her.
“This will help your throat after all that screaming,” He growled it at her, not meaning his voice to sound so tense. One minute in her presence and he was already feeling the strain.
She lifted one hand from her abdomen to take the water bottle from him; at least he assumed it was her stomach. It was hard to tell with her current attire where any of her was. The clothing was heinous; no one in their right mind would call her clothing appropriate for this climate. Her floor length corduroy skirt looked thick and cut in straight lines, showing none of the curves he knew she possessed. The top half of her was covered right to her chin, the under shirt showing sweat stains around it's collar, the woollen jumper hung down to her mid thigh, shapeless and unsightly. Her beautiful hair was covering most of her face; it too was hanging lifelessly around her. She looked like someone who didn’t want to be noticed and that intrigued him. With the beauty he knew she possessed she should be flaunting it not hiding it away. He’d never known a woman to hide her beauty like this.
He studied her as she opened the seal on the bottle and seemed to relax, downing the contents almost in one gulp.
“Would you like another?” he quizzed, causing her eyes to meet his. Even he heard the slight shiver in his voice as his heart did leaps in his chest. Why, he had no bloody clue, but it did. He pulled himself together and bit out his next question to stop his brothers from commenting.
“Did you expect it to be snowing in Italy?” He asked handing her another bottle of cold water. He did not need to be worrying about why she was trembling. Or that she was too scared even to accept a drink. Or that she covered herself up to this extent, in a county know for its hot summers. None of these things were his concern. But her green eyes were something he couldn’t escape once she turned them on him. He felt like he was drowning in her pain, as his fingers touched hers, adrenaline shot straight to his heart, making it beat uncontrollably. Her eyes held the shock his heart was feeling. Had she felt that too?
“Ahem,” Nico clearing his throat made him step back losing physical contact with her but he couldn’t pull himself away from her haunting eyes. “I'm Nico, the younger, smarter, better looking one.” Nico said extending her his hand.
Alessandro noticed the way she looked at Nico outstretched hand. She held her bottom lip between her teeth. He could almost feel the tension pulsing through her, or was it desire? Her eyes seem to darken and she was definitely holding her breath. Nico was the playboy of the family and had women flocking to him. Would she feel more secure with him? He dismissed that as soon as it occurred to him. Nico was still young and shouldn’t be burdened with this. India placed her trembling hand in Nico’s and Alessandro felt jealousy well up from deep within him.
This woman was definitely suffering some kind of mental disorder he decided; why else would she be acting like this? Her passport said she was British and twenty seven, yet she acted like a nun whom had never left the convent or been around men before. Perhaps she is a nun he thought, and then dismissed it, a nun wouldn’t be at an infertility clinic trying to get pregnant. And then another thought hit him, why was she at the clinic? A girl like her wouldn’t have any trouble getting a man, why go to the expense of insemination? And why come all the way from Britain to do it? Again he studied her, she might be British on paper but with her skin colouring she looked Italian and if she didn’t open her mouth you would assume her to be just that. Is that why she came all the way to this clinic? He would ask her but not now.
“And that broody silent one is Basilio,” Alessandro informed her, tying to get her haunted look from his mind.
He watched her eyes dart around the room, she was not going to like what he was about to say. In fact, he hazard a guess at her reaction, she would either scream, faint or bolt out the door and never look back but he had to continue. His mind was made up and if he didn’t voice it now he probably never would. It was not something he wanted to do, rather that he had to, to keep honour in his family.
“Now that we are all acquainted with one another, let’s get to the crux of the matter shall we?”
No one said anything so he continued, “India, you know about the press and my brothers involvement. What you don't know is that he was in line to be the next Count and as such his children would take that title too...” he paused, not really sure he should be divulging this much but he needed her to see the problem they faced, “... This is a very delicate matter and it will destroy our family if it got out. At the moment it is only speculation which is bad enough, however I have our attorney working on, how do you say, oh yes, a gag order to suppress any hearsay. You are safe here but I cannot let you leave until we know if you are with child or not. If you are we will get married,” Nico blasted him in Italian with words he was thankful she had no idea of, India just sat staring into space – definitely something wrong with her brain he thought.
 “I am proposing a marriage only on paper that would cover you, India, and my family. To settle your mind it will state that I do not wish this to be an intimate affair. Think on it... more as a business proposal with which you will benefit greatly. This is about honour and as my no good brother got you into this, it is down to me to protect you and the baby,” he finished and sat down, feeling slightly sick if he was honest.
The room had grown so still and the silence was almost deafening as he waited for her response to his clinical business deal, at least he hoped it was clinical, as that was all she would get from him. Clinical indifference with the added benefit of his money and protection.
It was Nico that broke the silence first shouting at I'm in Italian “You can't be serious Sandro, look... look at her. Have you lost your ever loving mind?”
He answered sternly in Italian not wanting her to know what they were discussing. “I am deadly serious Nico, and if you tell her anything, I will disown you as my brother. It has to be this way, don't you see?”
“But...”
“Enough. I have heard enough. I am the head of this family now, it falls on me to fix this mess and this is what I have decided is best. You will not say another word about...” he paused and his eyes flicked to India, who had yet to say a word or look at him. “Her, do you hear me?” he finished and stared at his brother waiting for his answer. That came in the form of him throwing his arms in the air and still shouting in Italian, stormed out the room slamming the door as he left.
Still India stared into space but she looked like she was thinking, a frown line appeared between her untidy brows, as if she was really concentrating on something. Basilio whom had been quiet throughout came to stand beside him, putting one hand on his shoulder as he too spoke to him in Italian. He words where quiet and restrained unlike Nico’s.
“You aren’t the only male in this house brother. You don't have to be the one; I will do the honourable thing if it is necessary. I cannot let you do this to yourself.”
“Thank you for that, but it has to be me Bas. The press would hound you night and day if she was with you, surely even you can agree that it will be worse for you to be seen with her, than it will for me. Her likeness is too close to...” he couldn’t bring himself to say her name, it still agonised him even after 5 years. “her, with me they might be sympathetic, but they are likely to judge you more harshly which will reflect badly on the family and your business. I just can't take that chance Bas,” he said, patting his brother’s arm before returning his focus to the one person yet to speak.  
“I understand Sandro. It is your decision, but please think on this. You are more important than any business, and I would never forgive myself had I not at least given you the option. As you said, the press may grit their teeth into her and I, but it will be no less hurtful for you to be seen with her after what happened. I will not go against you, but please take the time to think it over,” Basilio left them then.
“India?” Alessandro quizzed.
She looked at him and he could have sworn that she flinched, before she steeled her shoulders and met his eyes again.
“I agree.” She said.
What was she agreeing to though? Was he wrong in his assumption that she knew no Italian? Did she understand what they were saying?
“What exactly is it that you agree with India?” He asked in his native tongue to test her.
“I only know a few words in Italian Alessandro, don't let my appearance deceive you.”
Again he asked the same question, only in English this time. Thankful that she wasn't privy to Nico’s outburst.
Still holding his gaze she said. “I agree to your proposal. I agree to marry you, should I need to. And I agree that it should only be a paper marriage.”
“Once we are married it will be for life, I will not be divorced. No one in this family has ever been or will ever be divorced, that would be more harmful than the current situation. I know this is a lot to take in India, but I'm positive that we will be friends in time and...”  he let the sentence hang there, uncertain that he wanted to finish his thought. He wasn't sure if he could bed her, she might look like... but she was very different in demeanour, perhaps because he didn’t know her yet.
“I understand.”
“Do you?”
“Yes.”
He strode over to her and knelt down in front of her, her audible intake of breath as she shifted back as far as she could in the seat, making him pause before picking up her hand.
“Do you really understand what this means or are you going to faint again?” He said as his thumb drew caressing circles on her palm. Her startled gaze locked with his own. His was due to touching something from his past, which had the potential to destroy him. He had no idea what caused hers.
“Yes I understand,” she said breathlessly, before darting her eyes from his and steadying her voice. “I understand that you want to marry me and that you don't want me in your bed or any another man’s bed,” her tone was quiet and reserved, he also sensed... what? Relief?  “and I agree to you terms, I will never seek a divorce as long as you stick to your end of the proposal.”
This is not what he was expecting. He had thought she would fight him, that he would have to really bargain for her compliance. What would make her so willing to go into a loveless, sexless marriage.  She was in shock, she had to be, when this all sunk in, he would get the fight that he was expecting from her.  He was so lost in his thought that he hadn’t realised he was still holding her hand, until she pulled it free and spoke again.
“I think it is you who doesn’t understand your own proposal. You will be living a life without sex, and for a man that has to be nearly impossiblu. I know you are doing this in honour and you should not have to subject yourself to such extreme measures. I am willing to be without male company but I don't see you being able to abstain, so to avoid any confrontation between us, I think you should take a mistress. I'm sure you will be discrete, as it is apparent that honour is paramount to you. I shall remain faithful to you always as long as you stay out of my bed.” Her voice only wavered over the mention of sex, otherwise her tone was level and serious. Could she really be this accommodating?
Now he was stunned into silence. Suddenly she’d found the voice and backbone that Italian woman are known for, and she used them full force on him. He hadn’t thought of taking other women but she had a point, he was a red blooded male and would need a warm body now and then, but not hers. No, she would be too painful, open too many wounds, he rather stay closed.
“It's a deal then! I will have the papers drawn up as soon as we know if you’re pregnant. Now how about I show you your room and the rest of the house?” he waited for her to follow before striding down the hall to the east wing that she would occupy. As far from his room as he could put her. 

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