His Wedding Day Revenge

Chapter Six

CHAPTER SIX

T HE BABY OBLIGINGLY let out a howl of anger and, red-faced, started kicking and squirming, which focused Draco’s attention on the angry bundle.

‘What did I do...?’

Her lips twitched as she watched Draco, none of his habitual ‘master of all he surveyed’ cool written on his face. Instead there was something that on anyone else you might have called panic.

‘Nothing, he’s hungry. Let me take him back.’

This time he didn’t argue, just muttered something in Italian as the baby was passed between them with no drama, if you discounted the shivers that slithered down her neck where Draco’s warm breath brushed her sensitised skin.

Jane began jiggling the baby in her arms. ‘Nearly there,’ she hushed softly as they reached the lower terrace of the gardens that fed onto the wide stone area in front of the palazzo itself.

The baby responded to her voice and the decibels reduced. ‘You are nursing?’

He didn’t appear uncomfortable asking the question, but Jane could feel the heat climb up her neck until her face was burning with colour, not because she was embarrassed, but because she felt guilty.

Here was yet another chance to fill him in on the facts. It wasn’t as if it were a guilty secret or, for that matter, a secret at all.

Of course, she had a secret, but there was no reason to share it with him. ‘No, I’m not feeding him myself.’

‘I understand it is not always so easy.’

He understood? The suggestion that he had researched breastfeeding issues might have made her laugh had she not been holding a fretful baby.

‘Ah, here is Livia.’

If he sounded relieved, Jane felt a million times more so.

‘Livia will show you to your apartments.’ He turned to the other woman, who was wearing a dark trouser suit and what Jane rather uncharitably interpreted as an intense eager-to-please expression. She ought to know—she had worn it herself once upon a time.

‘This way, please, Miss Smith. I hope your journey was not tiring?’

With a charming smile the woman stepped aside to allow Jane to precede her though the massive ornately carved double doors.

It was like walking into another world. She stood and her head dropped back, taking in the ceiling that appeared to float miles above her head. Works of art adorned the gilded and stuccoed areas of the walls, the remaining walls covered, not in plaster, but with massive mirrors painted with laurel leaves.

Classic sculptures, busts of women with Roman profiles and alabaster faces, stood on the plinths that ran down each side of the massive entrance leading up to a dramatic carved staircase. Marble again like the floor, it swept up to the first-floor gallery where it split, drawing the eye up to the glass dome high above.

Amidst all the classicism was the furniture, large and dramatic pieces, all vibrant colour and ultra-modern clean lines. Two massive sofas beneath the classic plinths were emerald green and the towering steel-framed bookcase a striking red.

Jane stared, not taking in a fraction of the detail.

The other woman, who smiled and stood silent, seemed to understand her awe.

‘They made many discoveries during the restoration, but I am sure you do not want a guided tour just now. You are this way.’

She led Jane down a corridor lined with ancient statuary and works of art to a door that opened to reveal a lift, which was not at all ancient. It took them to another floor in smooth seconds, which Jane was glad of. She never had been keen on enclosed spaces.

This corridor was lined with windows that must make it very light in the daytime, but at the moment it was lit by low-voltage lights in the sconces that lined the opposite wall.

‘You are here.’ She opened the door and waited as Jane stepped inside, not to a bedroom, but to a large living area. The furniture was modern but not statement pieces, just high-quality craftsman-made matching the walls that were painted in a pale plaster colour.

‘Oh, do not be concerned,’ she said, seeing the direction of Jane’s gaze. ‘The balcony is childproof.’ She nodded to the row of doors. ‘Not that that is an issue at his age,’ she added with a smile. ‘There is a small kitchen.’ She pushed open a door and Jane had the impression of white and glossy. ‘The other doors are the bedroom and nursery, which interconnect, and the bathroom is shared. I hope this is suitable? There is also one off the playroom, should you wish to use it, but possibly he is not that age yet.’

Jane watched as she opened a door to reveal a bright yellow-painted room that looked like any child’s idea of paradise. There was a series of cartoon characters painted on one wall, shelves containing neat stacks of boxes and books on another. The low table with chairs in the middle of the room was empty, but she could picture it littered with toys from the boxes distributed around the room. She imagined a child sitting on the wooden rocking horse.

A child with Draco’s dark hair and eyes.

She turned away, a lump in her throat, and began to jiggle Mattie up and down in her arms.

‘You’re right. I don’t think this one will be making use of those facilities...’ She heard the door close and was glad.

‘Shall I get someone to unpack for you?’ The other woman nodded to the luggage stacked in the corner, which Jane had not previously noticed.

Draco’s airy confidence that her car would be dealt with seemed justified as her luggage had arrived before she had. She picked up the folded buggy and, with a practised flick of her wrist, unfolded it one-handed before placing Mattie in.

‘No, that’s fine,’ she said, clipping the safety harness. ‘I’ll unpack myself.’ There was not much to unpack. Mattie’s things took up most of her luggage allowance. ‘This is absolutely...well...’ she swept a hand in an expressive gesture around the room ‘...perfect, but I think,’ she began hesitantly, ‘that there might be some mistake?’ she suggested, feeling the need to double-check. ‘I am here for the conference. I’m not a house guest. I am meant to be in the—’ She began to feel in her pockets for the course details.

‘Mr Andreas did not consider the accommodation there suitable for an infant.’ The woman glanced fondly at Mattie, who was stuffing one chubby fist in his mouth, a very serious expression on his face. ‘My nephew is his age. He is a very pretty baby too. Oh, the fridge is filled with the formula you requested and some basics for yourself.’

Jane had considered that a nice thoughtful touch when she had filled in the online form. It had saved her a lot of luggage space.

‘Thank you,’ she said, absolutely overwhelmed by the kindness being shown. ‘I feel I’m getting preferential treatment,’ she admitted guiltily.

‘Not at all. I understand the evening meetings might go on late and it was decided that these apartments will be more suitable, much quieter, less disruption.’

Jane acknowledged a sense of relief. People said nice things about babies, but when it came to a good night’s sleep they were less tolerant, and who could blame them? She had pictured sitting down to breakfast with a lot of unfriendly stares directed her way from heavy-eyed sleep-deprived people.

Here Mattie was not likely to bother anyone but her and she had adapted quite well to disturbed sleep patterns. As for the evening meetings, she doubted she would make many.

‘It’s...’ She paused, torn. On the one hand she felt guilty because this did not align with her egalitarian principles, but on the other she was so happy that everything was geared to her and Mattie to a degree she could never have dreamt of. ‘Sorry, I’m repeating myself, but this really is perfect.’

Perfect, but an enigma, a perfect nursery, what did she know? This was not her world. Maybe that was how billionaires did it, put in a nursery in case a guest had a baby. Maybe it really was as simple as asking a chef to offer a vegan option.

Or maybe it was something even simpler—this suite of rooms was historically a nursery and no one had thought to change the function when the place was restored, they’d just updated the decor and the facilities? Was it possible that Draco and his brother had occupied the rooms?

An image of a youthful Draco flashed before her eyes, along with the possibly false idea she had that his childhood had not been that happy and it was more than a broken-family scenario. She was overthinking this—just thinking about Draco was overthinking!

When she had agreed to this, she had told herself that, beyond some rousing introductory speech, she would not have to see Draco.

Did you really think that or were you hoping...? She would not even allow the question to form.

The scenario she had imagined involved her seated at the back of a room clapping politely along with the others.

The older woman beamed and, seeming to understand Jane’s unposed question, but not that she was fighting the pain of loss with every fibre of her being, added in a confidential undertone, ‘I was not here at the time, but I believe this was the old nursery and intended to be so again when...’ A self-conscious look spread across Livia’s smooth face as she paused, straightened the snowy collar of her white shirt and added, with the forced professional air of someone who realised she had said too much, ‘The staff still speak of it. It was a sad time here.’

Jane froze...sad time. Could the woman be referring to the aftermath of her runaway bride act? She felt a slither of unease. Obviously she knew she had made the right decision, but she had been so busy dealing with her own emotions in the aftermath that she hadn’t thought about the possibility of a knock-on effect for people she had never met.

She knew that Draco had been angry...but she also knew that his heart had not been affected. How could it have been? She had never had his heart. His ego was another matter.

‘I am sure there will be babies here one day.’ The comment was delivered with an accompanying confidential smile. ‘And in the meantime it has come in useful for you.’

There will be babies!

Just not mine.

‘It’s really lovely. I’m grateful. I’ll have an explore, before I bathe Mattie.’ She smiled, hoping the other woman recognised the not so subtle code for ‘I want to be alone’.

She really did! The entire day had been exhausting and then the cherry on top, just when she ought to have been recovering after the drive from hell, she had walked straight into Draco, or driven into, and a little too literally for her liking.

He didn’t seem to have registered that she could have killed him... Even thinking about that moment made her stomach quiver violently.

Draco was the most alive person she had ever encountered...loved... That she no longer was in love with him did not alter the fact that the idea of him not being in the world was a possibility she simply couldn’t accept.

‘Should you wish anything...’

I wish to stop thinking about Draco.

In which case coming here was not such a great idea.

‘I’m fine,’ she said brightly.

To Jane’s relief the woman appeared to be moving towards the door and she politely mirrored the action. ‘Thank you so much.’

Alone at last, she thought, looking around the room. Focusing her thoughts on the practical and away from the dangerous, she decided to leave the bags and prioritise settling Mattie down. He took his feed well. He became animated in the bath, kicking and splashing, but as she dried him and put him in his sleep suit she could see his eyes were growing heavy. She rocked him on her shoulder, crooning softly until she felt his little body relax into sleep.

She tucked him up carefully in his cot and tiptoed out of the room, leaving the door ajar.

Despite her attempts to dismiss the woman’s comments, the words continued to ricochet around in Jane’s head as she stood in the nursery that was furnished for the children she and Draco would never have.

Though he would have children—the housekeeper had implied as much. Had the comment been code for Draco having plans to marry? Pressing a protective hand to her stomach, Jane felt her eyes fill with tears... She dashed them away angrily.

She returned to the nursery to check on Mattie, her heart swelling with protective love as she stared down at his flushed sleeping face. Making her way back to the small but well-equipped kitchen, she cleared away the things she had used to make the feed and pushed back the chair she had pulled over to feed him. Through the open window the light breeze blew in the scent of lavender mingled with the salty tang of pine.

She should not be feeling nostalgia or regret. She should feel relieved that things had never reached the point where she had to tell Draco she couldn’t have children.

That was one nightmare scenario she had avoided, and so had he. The sentence drifted into her head.

I am sure there will be babies here one day.

She closed the window with a snap and, though the entire place was wired for sound, went back to check on Mattie, who was still fast asleep, snoring softly.

Smiling, she blew him a kiss and banged her head on the butterfly mobile above the cot.

Unpacking her own things did not take long as Mattie’s clothes had taken up most of the case. Of course now she knew she could have brought several cases.

She looked at the few lonely items hanging in the cavernous wardrobe. She stood there wondering what happened now.

She knew that to appear suitably keen good manners meant she ought to go to the informal supper, but he had suggested it was optional, and there was no way she would drag Mattie out. Delaying the moment when she was revealed as a phoney appealed at that moment.

Although she was starving.

She was wondering if there was anything in the fridge besides formula to stave off the hunger pangs when a tap on the door drowned out the sound of her growling stomach.

The girl on the other side introduced herself. ‘I am Val, the nursery nurse. Well, not really. I help my brother with the bees.’

‘Right,’ said Jane, amused by the girl’s intensity, confused by the mention of bees, and impressed by her excellent English. ‘But when guests need a babysitter I help out. I have plenty of experience. I have five smaller brothers. I am here to sit with the little one should you wish me to, though if you prefer not to go for supper it will be delivered here.’

‘I...’ Jane hesitated and stepped aside for the girl to enter. ‘Please come in. Mattie is asleep and normally he sleeps for several hours after his evening feed.’

‘Oh, that is so lucky!’ Val exclaimed chattily. ‘My youngest brother still wakes twice in the night!’

‘Look, it’s very considerate of you to offer.’ Jane paused, realising that it was unlikely the girl had volunteered—this was her job. ‘I’m not dressed.’ Jane, feeling creased and grubby after the journey, gestured down at her jeans and shirt, thinking that even if she was ‘dressed’ it would not be very impressive.

‘No problem. Even if you don’t want to go down to supper I could stay while you shower?’

‘I’d probably hear Mattie, but actually that would be great,’ Jane admitted, smiling her gratitude. It would be a treat to have a shower without listening out for Mattie.

‘Supper is being served at seven-thirty?’

Val saw Jane’s face and grinned. ‘I don’t think it will be a late night—there are a lot of old men with beards.’ She looked self-conscious. ‘Sorry, that was rude. I quite like beards.’

Jane laughed and the girl looked reassured. ‘No problem if you want to take it here.’

The shower, with its array of bewildering controls, was twice the size of the entire bathroom in her cottage...actually, her bedroom. As Jane revolved in the pummel of the warm spray she could feel the knots in her neck and shoulders begin to loosen and she allowed herself the indulgence of enjoying the luxury. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d lingered in the shower and there had not been any long, luxurious soaks in a long time.

When she finally forced herself to leave, she felt, if not a new woman, certainly a less tense one. Encased in one of the mountain of fluffy robes, she returned to the bedroom after first glancing in on Mattie, who was fast asleep.

Maybe she would skip supper and just have a glass of milk. Half an hour earlier she’d been starving but now her appetite had gone. She was often so busy that she rarely sat down to a meal, instead eating a sandwich or something on the go. Some days she went to bed and realised she’d forgotten to eat; it was an effort to drag herself out of bed to make a sandwich or have a glass of milk but she made herself—mostly.

If she hadn’t the clothes hanging in the wardrobe would look even more ill-fitting than they already did, she thought, putting her travel-creased clothes in a linen hamper and trying not to catch sight of herself in the full-length mirror.

The packet of online information on the course had said there were laundry facilities, which was a relief and a must when you were travelling with a baby, so Jane wasn’t really worried about the negligible wardrobe, which took up a couple of hangers and one drawer.

She hastily selected some fresh underclothes, a denim cotton skirt, which, like many of her clothes, felt too loose at the waist, and a sleeveless blouse, pale blue with splurges of orange, that tied at her midriff. She fastened it with a knot but it still gaped sightly, showing a sliver of her midriff. The shirt looked like silk but wasn’t, hence the bargain price.

Dragging a quick comb through her hair, she shoved her feet into a pair of sandals and hurried back to the sitting room, where the young girl was looking at her phone. When Jane entered she put it back into her pocket.

‘I have decided not to go to the supper,’ she said immediately.

‘Of course, I will have some supper sent up to you.’

‘Actually just a sandwich... Have you eaten? Am I keeping you from your supper?’

‘Oh, I’ve already eaten. There are always sandwiches, salads and so forth laid out for staff on duty during the evening.’ She pulled an apple from her pocket like a magician.

‘That sounds perfect. Give me directions and I’ll go and help myself if you don’t mind sitting with Mattie?’

‘I don’t mind, but you’re a guest.’ The girl looked doubtful.

‘Really, I could do with stretching my legs and getting my bearings before tomorrow. Just direct me to the kitchen.’

‘Well, there is a back way that is much quicker—the elevator at the end of the corridor, not the one you came up in. Turn right out the door and just walk to the end. You can’t miss. It will take you directly there.’

‘I won’t be long, and if Mattie wakes...’ She pulled out her phone and gave the young woman her number.

‘Can’t miss it’ were, in Jane’s opinion, classic famous last words, but actually she didn’t miss it and a short while later found herself, not in the main kitchen, but in what appeared to be an anteroom where food was laid along a long table. There was plenty of food left but the room was empty.

There was much more available than sandwiches and salads under their plastic coverings, including a few warm dishes in a heated trolley, which Jane avoided. By now she had totally passed the point of being hungry but recognised she needed food.

With some smoked-salmon sandwiches on a plate, she had intended to go straight back to the nursery, but as she walked past a stable-style door, its top section open to allow the gentle breeze to enter the room, she paused, filled with a sudden longing to breathe in some of that sweet-smelling air.

Carefully unlatching the bottom, she closed it after her and stepped outside into what appeared to be a courtyard. Several storeys rose above it. None of the windows were lit; they just seemed like black empty eyes looking down at her.

There was nothing sinister about the central area, which, as far as she could tell, was a neatly tended kitchen garden, which explained the fragrance that had brought her outside. At the far end there was a tall stone arch, and moonlight filtered through.

Standing curiously in the opening, she was transfixed by the view of the moonlit gardens, the gentle trickle of flowing water from the series of fountains blending with the not so distant hush of waves retreating on a shoreline she could not see.

Without intending to, she found herself wandering along one of the paved pathways bordered by lavender that brushed her legs, filling the evening air with perfume as she glanced back to check that the arch was still in sight. She didn’t want to lose her point of reference and get lost.

She laughed under her breath, a bitter sound. She’d already lost her way the moment Draco had stepped back into her life. Something about him seemed to disable her ability to think straight, to make rational decisions.

‘I’m beginning to think this was a bad idea, coming here. Beginning?’ she mocked, looking around the magical setting and huffing a small ironic laugh. Who was she kidding? She had always known it was a bad idea.

But I came anyway.

She had told herself it was a logical choice, that she had been left with no option, but the reality was she could have said no at any point. She could have wriggled out of it, but she hadn’t.

‘Why?’ she asked herself, before closing her eyes as if she could block the answer to her question.

Draco was like a drug. She had gone cold turkey to get him out of her system and it had hurt. She really couldn’t let him back in.

Telling herself fiercely that she wouldn’t, she didn’t register the toe of her sandal had caught in an uneven ridge in the paving until she had left it behind.

With a muttered curse of frustration, she turned back to retrieve it just as the moon slipped behind a cloud.

The sudden darkness was so profound that it was as if someone had switched a light off. She stood stock-still and waited for her eyes to adjust to the light or, rather, lack of it.