Bride By Choice

‘I don’t think it was. She and my father always got on well.’

‘You mean, she put up with whatever he did because she had no choice, and made the best of it. Well, you know what I think about that.’

‘Yes, but that wasn’t why I didn’t mention it last night. Surrounded by your family, and your sisters being so young—’

It dawned on Helen that Lorenzo was embarrassed. She smiled, liking him again.

‘You’re really straight out of the old country after all, aren’t you?’ she asked.

‘Well, I am a Sicilian,’ he admitted. ‘But then, so are you.’

‘No way.’

‘Deny it all you like, you can’t escape it.’

‘You’re asking for this sauce in your lap, Martelli.’

‘OK, I give in.’

‘Tell me some more about your half brother. Is he really a member of the family?’

‘He could be if he wanted. If anything, he rejects us, not the other way around. He won’t call himself Martelli. He sticks to Tornese because it was his mother’s name. We don’t see much of Bernardo. He lives in a little mountain village called Montedoro, where he was born. He despises money, won’t even take his rightful share of the inheritance. Recently he fell in love with an English woman, Angie. Everything was fine and we were waiting for the announcement when he suddenly found out that she was rich. That was it. He sent her away.’

‘And she let him?’

‘Not her. Angie’s a doctor, so she bought up the practise in Montedoro, and now she’s living just down the street from him. He’s mad as fire, but he can’t budge her. She won’t stand for that nonsense about knowing her place any more than you do.’

‘Good for her. I like the sound of Angie.’

‘You’d like her if you met her. And I think she’s going to win. She’s blonde and fluffy, and looks as if a wind would blow her over, but she’s got more guts than anyone I’ve ever known.’

‘How did they meet? Was she visiting Sicily or was he travelling?’

‘She came to Sicily with Heather,’ Lorenzo said vaguely, and again Helen had the feeling that he was embarrassed about something.

‘Heather’s married to your older brother, Renato, right?

‘Right.’ Before she could ask any more questions he added quickly, ‘This is good food but I could make it better. We have a potential customer.’

He continued on this subject throughout the next course. He was full of ideas, and Helen had to admit that he was an excellent businessman.

‘I saw Giorgio bending your ear last night,’ she said when he paused for breath. ‘I needn’t ask what about.’

‘Why aren’t we selling his family’s goods?’ Lorenzo confirmed. ‘I’ve already been in touch with Renato about them. Their goods are borderline. They’ve been told to improve the quality and try again, but instead of doing something they just wail about the injustice.

‘There’s no excuse for poor produce,’ he went on. ‘Sicily is the most fertile land in the world. Everything grows there, and grows well if it’s properly tended.’

Something seemed to come over him as he began to talk about his country. He spoke in a new way, with a feeling she could only call love. This light playboy with his silk shirts and easy manners had a passionate attachment to the land that breathed through every word. She watched him, fascinated, and at last he noticed, and smiled.

‘The Martellis have to know about the land,’ he said. ‘It’s how we earn our bread.’

‘It’s more than knowing about it,’ she said gently.

‘Well—yes. It’s part of me and I’m part of it. I can’t help it. I go away but I always go back, and I always will. It’s part of being Sicilian. You never quite escape.’

She smiled sympathetically, but inwardly she was thinking how right she’d been to reject him at the start. Lorenzo was a man who would always win love easily. His charm, his looks, his kind heart, were made to be loved, and a woman would have to be armoured in advance—as she was—to avoid the danger.