Wounds of Passion Charlotte Lamb (you can read anyone .TXT) 📖

CHAPTER SEVEN

CY RANG Antonia that evening, after dinner, at the palazzo, to check that her move had gone smoothly. His aunt had gone out for dinner; Antonia had eaten alone, and was in her room, already in bed. ‘I hope I didn’t wake you,’ Cy said, sounding anxious. ‘Has moving exhausted you?’

‘It was tiring; I thought I’d go to bed early,’ she said, and went on over-brightly to tell him that she had already unpacked her cases, put away her clothes, and had settled comfortably into her new home. All the time she talked, though, she was trying to think of some way of telling him what was really on her mind, but it seemed impossible to raise the subject out of the blue, on the telephone. She wished he weren’t so far away; she wished he were here, so that she could see him face to face, but wouldn’t that be even harder? Oh, she wished she weren’t such a coward.

Her voice must have betrayed her, because when she stopped talking in her husky, uneasy voice a brief silence followed, then Cy asked, ‘Is something wrong, Tonia?’

She gave a sigh, half nervous, half relieved. ‘Oh, you’re so quick! I don’t know how you guessed; you must be telepathic. But you’re right. Cy, I’ve been thinking...wondering... Oh, I’m sorry, Cy, I don’t know how to put it into words; I’m too confused about everything.’

‘Are you trying to tell me you’re having doubts about our engagement, Tonia?’ he asked quietly, and she gave another long, quivering sigh.

‘Yes. Cy, I’m sorry. I don’t want to ruin your life, and I’m afraid I would if we got married, because I don’t think I’m anywhere near ready for marriage. I should never have said yes; I think I wasn’t thinking straight when you asked me.’ She paused, swallowing unhappily.

Cy’s voice was careful, gentle. ‘We can put off the date for as long as you like, you know. There’s no hurry, no need for you to feel panicked.’

She bit her lip, knowing she had not told him the entire truth. What she had said was only a part of the truth. Oh, why was she such a coward?

She was afraid to admit to Patrick that she loved him, afraid to tell Cy that that was the real reason why she must not marry him. Ever since that night in Bordighera she had been too scared of life to take any risks.

When she was silent, Cy said on a sigh, ‘Of course, I’ve sensed some sort of change in you since I’ve been back in the States, I should never have left you over there while I came home. I thought it would make it easier for you to adjust to the idea of marriage if we spent some time apart, but obviously I was wrong. It was a mistake.’

‘No, you were right,’ she quickly said. ‘I needed time to think.’

‘You mean, you’ve spent too much time alone,’ Cy drily said. ‘Fretting, over what happened to you in Bordighera, and over the future. I know how hard it must be for you, but you’ve got to put the past behind you and get on with living.’

‘I know,’ Antonia said in a quiet little voice. ‘I’ve realised that.’

‘I only wish I could fly back to Venice today, to talk this out with you,’ Cy said impatiently. ‘The trouble is, I have a lot on my plate this week. I couldn’t spare the time. Look, I’ll try to get to Venice as soon as possible, so that we can talk. In the meantime, stop worrying, Antonia. Just live each day as it comes, don’t spend too much time alone, try to get out more, and forget about getting married for the moment. I don’t want you under any pressure. Take your ring off, if that helps, but lock it in the safe in the palazzo, Tonia; don’t lose it, will you?’ He laughed as he said that, yet she knew he was really serious, because, after all, the ring was worth many thousands of pounds.

‘Of course not,’ she quickly said.

‘Good girl.’ He always talked to her as if she were a child and he were the adult in charge of her; why hadn’t she noticed that? His indulgent manner, his gentleness, was the way one treated a beloved child. Was that how he thought of her? Well, there was a huge gap in their ages, she thought, really grasping for the first time how much older than her he was. He wasn’t much younger than her father, in fact.

Why else had she always felt so safe with him? But why did Cy want to marry someone he saw as a child?

Indulgently, he said, ‘We’ll talk this out, darling; just relax and trust me. Now get some sleep; you’ll feel much better in the morning, I expect.’

After he had rung off Antonia lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, listening to the soft lapping of the water outside, along the wooden piles supporting the palazzo‘s landing-stage, the sound of the gondolas skimming along the Grand Canal. Her heart was heavy. Cy had not taken her seriously.

No, she thought. I wasn’t honest enough with him. I didn’t tell him what was really on my mind. Now he thinks I’m just having an attack of pre-marital nerves because of what happened two years ago. But it isn’t just that. He doesn’t know I’ve met Patrick again.

She turned over heavily, feeling feverish, restless, confused. She should have told Cy the truth, told him she was in love with Patrick and could never marry him now.

At least she could be sure she wasn’t going to break Cy’s heart. She was quite certain Cy wasn’t in love with her. He had never given her any evidence of passion. His kisses had been soft, kind, gentle. Nothing like the kisses Patrick gave her.

She buried her face in her pillow, her skin burning. She wouldn’t think about that now. She