Mistress at the Italian's Command

Mistress at the Italian's Command
MELANIE MILBURNE

About the Author

MELANIE MILBURNE I am married to a surgeon, Steve, and have two gorgeous sons, Paul and Phil. I live in Hobart, Tasmania, where I enjoy an active life as a long-distance runner and a nationally ranked top ten Master’s swimmer. I also have a Master’s Degree in Education, but my children totally turned me off the idea of teaching! When not running or swimming I write, and when I’m not doing all of the above I’m reading. And if someone could invent a way for me to read during a four-kilometre swim I’d be even happier!’

Mistress at the Italian’s Command

Melanie Milburne

www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)

Dear Reader,

When I was approached to write a novella for Mills & Boon’s Centenary, I was absolutely delighted. As usual ideas were rushing about my head but the one I kept coming back to was particularly close to my heart at the time so I thought I would concentrate on Alice and Vittorio’s story. I am like most writers in that I start with a sentence or premise. This one was: What if you had to step into your twin sister’s shoes without knowing where on earth she had been walking in them and with whom? Scary thought, right? I have enough trouble keep tracking of my own movements let alone someone else’s! But the gorgeously brooding Vittorio Vassallo was, from the start, a wonderful hero to work with and, of course, the adorably shy and reticent Ally was equally engaging, and of all my heroes and heroines I felt they truly deserved to have their happy ever after.

Thank you dear readers for supporting all the authors, editors and administrative staff who work tirelessly to bring you the very best of romantic fiction for women. The success of Mills & Boon is after all due to you.

With warm wishes,

Melanie Milburne

xx

Dedicated to all the wonderful readers of Mills & Boon who by reading our books so

enthusiastically and faithfully over the last one hundred years have made M&B the world’s

leading publisher of romantic fiction. Thank you!

CHAPTER ONE

‘MISS ALICE BENTON?’ The Italian psychiatrist took Ally to one side, speaking in a grave, heavily accented tone. ‘Do you have any idea how long your sister has been off her medication?’

Ally swallowed against the dry lump of anguish in her throat. ‘I’m really not sure,’ she said. ‘I don’t live in Italy with my sister. I live in Australia.’

‘Then you did well to get here so soon.’ He looked down at the notes and added, ‘She was only brought in yesterday morning by her neighbour.’

‘I had a business meeting in Prague,’ Ally explained. ‘I flew from there as soon as I could. I had no idea she’d had such a bad relapse. She hasn’t had one in years. She was fine when I spoke to her from Sydney before I left for my trip. I can’t believe—’ she choked over a sob ‘—she would do something like this. She seemed so… so well…’

‘This was a very serious suicide attempt,’ Dr Bassano said with a sober look. ‘She was lucky to survive such a high dosage of benzoates. I suggest that until she is stabilised on her regular dosage of antipsychotic medication that she be admitted to a mental health clinic and stay there until she receives the therapy and rehabilitation she needs. I should warn you, however, it could take considerable time.’

‘I see…’ Ally said, feeling her stomach sink even lower in despair. She had desperately hoped the frightening see-sawing periods of mania and dark depression her sister had suffered ever since she was fifteen had finally disappeared, but it seemed they had not. What on earth had happened in her sister’s life to bring on such a devastating relapse?

‘There is a clinic in Switzerland that has a very good reputation.’ Dr Bassano interrupted the painful torture of Ally’s thoughts. ‘It is a private clinic, but well worth the expense. The staff are all highly trained and very empathetic.’

Ally moistened her parched lips with the tip of her tongue. ‘But can’t I take her back to Sydney with me?’ she asked. ‘Surely it would be better for her to be back home? She’s been abroad for almost a year. Perhaps that’s what’s caused this… this… crisis.’

‘Miss Benton, I do not think your sister is in any fit state to endure a long-haul flight,’ he said. ‘In my opinion it would do more harm than good. She is unstable, and I suspect has been so for quite some time. The Swiss clinic is only a short flight or train journey away. We can arrange for a health professional to accompany both of you to settle her in.’

Ally compressed her lips to keep her panic contained. ‘H-how long do you think she will need to be at this clinic you have recommended?’ she asked.

‘It takes time for the medication to kick in again, sometimes several weeks,’ he paused, then went on gravely. ‘In more difficult cases maybe even months, especially if a drug change is indicated, which I suspect in your sister’s case is indeed warranted. There are several new medications on the market now that specifically target her condition. It would be worth a few weeks of trialling one or two of them in a safe environment to see which is most efficacious.’

Ally looked at the specialist in alarm. She only had a couple of weeks’ leave. She had been so looking forward to the holiday she had planned with her sister. She had never for a moment imagined it would turn into such a nightmare as this. There had been no warning, no sign of anything untoward during any of their recent phone conversations or e-mails. Admittedly her sister had sounded overly excited recently, but Ally had put it down to the anticipation of spending two weeks relaxing in the sun together. She hadn’t dared think of any other explanation. Alex’s troubled past had been filed away in Ally’s head; the door was not locked but it was certainly not ajar, as it had been for so long during their adolescence and early adult years.

Alex had done some terribly impulsive things during her various manic stages, and Ally was still trying to clear the debt of some of the mad spending sprees her twin had gone on in the past. Her sister’s disastrous marriage to Darren Sharpe had been the lowest point. It had taken Ally months to convince her twin to leave her abusive husband, and even longer to rebuild her battered self-esteem once the divorce was finalised.

‘I think Alex will do quite well once this crisis is over, but it is important that over the next few weeks she is kept away from any stressful situations,’ Dr Bassano said. ‘Stress at this point in time will only intensify her condition and perhaps cause another relapse. I have been in contact with her specialist in Sydney. I see from her records she has already had three major breakdowns during her teens. I would like to avoid triggering another one.’

‘I understand,’ Ally said, fighting back tears.

Dr Bassano took Ally’s hand. ‘I realise how difficult this is for you, Miss Benton,’ he said. ‘I understand you have been responsible for your sister since your mother’s death. You have done an amazing job of supporting her thus far. You must not blame yourself for this latest relapse. It is always hard for close relatives. You cannot possibly be with her every minute of the day. You have your own life to lead and must be allowed to do so.’

Ally blinked back the moisture in her eyes. ‘Thank y-you,’ she said, her voice catching slightly. ‘I don’t want to lose her… she is all I have…’

‘Take care of yourself,’ Dr Bassano said gently. ‘Your sister is still sleeping, but should wake in the next hour or so. Please call me at any time if you have any further questions.’

Ally went back to her sister’s bedside and looked down at the pale, thin and wan mirror image of herself, curled up like a helpless infant on the narrow bed.

How could two identical people be so dissimilar? she wondered. Alex had always been the outgoing one, the extroverted talkative one, the girl men flocked to like bees around nectar-laden blossom.

Ally, on the other hand, had always preferred her own company to that of other people. With the same figure and features of her twin, she had her fair share of male attention, but no one had come close enough for her to let down the guard around her heart. The emotional blunting in her childhood had seen to that. Living with an unpredictable mother had made Ally naturally cautious. She found it hard to trust people and kept herself aloof and on guard—unlike her twin who, like their mother, often leapt in feet first with little regard for the consequences.

The sheets on the bed rustled and a croaky voice asked, ‘Ally… is that you?’

Ally leaned forward and took her sister’s hands in hers, squeezing them gently. ‘Yes, darling, it’s me. I came as soon as I could.’

‘I’m sorry…’ Alex’s face began to crumple. ‘I’ve really done it this time. You’re going to hate me… I just know it… I’ve ruined everything…’

‘No, darling, don’t talk like that,’ Ally soothed, still desperately trying not to cry. ‘I could never hate you. You know I would do anything to make you well again.’

‘He told me he loved me…’ Alex said, so softly Ally had trouble hearing her.

She leaned even closer. ‘Who told you he loved you?’

Alex’s eyes closed and a soft whimper escaped from her lips. ‘I don’t want to talk about it… it hurts so much…’

Ally stroked her sister’s hand. ‘Don’t upset yourself, honey. We can talk later. The important thing now is to get well. That’s all that matters.’

‘The doctor said I have to go to a clinic,’ Alex said, biting her lip like a small, insecure child.

‘Yes, it will be for the best,’ Ally said. ‘Don’t worry about the expense. I’ll see to it.’

Tears sprouted from Alex’s eyes. ‘I wanted to die… I felt that if I couldn’t have him what would be the point in going on?’

Ally felt yet again the tight fist of panic knocking hard on the door of her heart. The doctor had warned her not to allow her twin to suffer any unnecessary stress, but clearly something had been going on with a man while Alex had been living abroad.

‘Honey, you should have told me you were having trouble coping,’ Ally said gently. ‘I thought everything was going so well for you since you moved to London.’