The Jealous Husband

s face stony and his eyes dark, glittering chi

ting stoically in the driving seat. The glass partition made their conversation inaudible but no one could have doubted the tenor of their e

before growling, 'this is a ridiculous conversatio

on that you are th

shrilly. 'What gives you the right to think

th you until you can contro

ue with you at this time,

t to prevent more hot accusations spilling out. She was here for his mother's funeral she had to remember that, she told herself pa

ad chosen but now the way was clear and free of obstacles. There was no reason to vacillate any longer she knew it in her heart but still, still it hurt, and she was angry, furious wi

tonio brought the car to a standstill on the pebbled sweep of drive in front of the gracious building.

tence that she stay at Casa Pontina for Liliana's sake, but he might as well lea

he climbed out of the car before Antonio could open her door and marched stiffl

s were shaking and her stomach trembling at the shock of seeing him again. 'Control, control, Grace,' she murmured q

ugh the next day or two as best she could until she could fly home to her tiny fl

re on their way again, driving deeper into the countryside where the magic of Italy reached out to touch her. She had always loved the country, from the first moment she had set foot in it

ncient gothic cathedrals and medieval fountains, poplar shaded farmsteads surrounded by vineyards and

d their magnificent seventeenth century villa, situated high above the blue waters of the Bay of

ythology, history and scenic splendour, and Grace had fa

nanny, and almost from their first meeting; when she had been in Italy

to her innocent eighteen, and he'd swept

d herself now, aware that the powerful memories the grand old house named after the sout

death just months before Grace had first come to Italy, and he ran his small empire with the help of a

he Sant' Agnello district of Sorrento where her husband cultivated his large crop of orange groves, alth

l Grace's efforts to win the beautiful Italian girl over. Bianca had particularly resented Grace's closeness to little Lorenzo, the youngest member of the Vittoria family, who had been somethi

nato's cool, deep voice broke into her thoughts of

other soul searing time, so firmly had her mind re

ong classical features and firm, sensual mouth still possessed a magnetis

was ... very underst

without turning t

e said, haven't I? Everyo

ce again but the cold faade was blank, no emotion in the

urce had been very, thorough, she thought tightly, but why pick Jim Penn

her slowly, his dark eyes flashing over her pale face and his mouth twisting

flowing into the dark, turbulent river that made up her relationship with the Vittorias and one Vi

efficiency,' he said so

wary, before saying, 'Now look, Donato,

ce have you? Because I can assure you the child has not forgotten you! Since my mother's death it is your name that is constantly

spat angrily. 'You know why I left; y

lf, his voice icy and his face cold and blank. 'You did not think it fitting t

never expected that he would do anything else but come after her, not in her heart of hearts. But he hadn't. And the days bad turned into weeks and th

the endless quarrels, the pain, the suffering? I tho

ven now the telegram, the request that she attend Liliana's funeral, had not been sent to her because he wanted to see her, because there was any faint s

she hated him she did; she lo

nd pretty in the afternoon sun was completed without further conversation, the atm

ed to find herself immune to him, to have the assurance that that stage of her life--the Donato stage was over and done with, that the post-mortems were finally completed. Indiffer

the way... But no, that wasn't quite fair, she correct

front of him and that would be the final humiliation. One minute, one hour, one day at a time; that was what sh

e was being pulled there by something stronger than herself. The scent of lemon groves hung heavy in the air as they climbed into the hills tow

the merest whisper but he heard it,his head shooting r

ea,' he said quietly. 'You are tired fr

uch was the look on her face that he said no more to her, leaning forward and sli

s and a fine orchard where orange, apricot, olive, almond, fig and banana trees all lived in harmony, but it was to the tiny, shadow-blotched walled gard

ter leaving the car, turning her to face him. 'Would this not

ind waiting a fe

n too harsh and he took a deep breath before he sp

n gate at the top of the long slope that led from the drive, remembering

ed wit

lly couldn't find the strength to fight him at that moment and then he was opening the gate and s

' she said softly, and D

thing will be

g with pink begonia and a whole host of other flowers. A small patch of lawn in the middle of the garden had a tinkling fountain at its cen

hat surrounded the Vittoria empire, and once Grace had been used to spen

osed a slightly raised small rectangle of ground that was ablaze with tiny f

a, aged six months, baby son of Donato and