Free Desire Has No Mercy by Violet Winspear Page B

saying goes. I returned to my old line of work, and then when this offer came from out of the blue—well, I couldn't turn down the chance to take care of you again. My Miss Julia, the nicest lady I ever had in my charge. I must say I was surprised, you being married to Signor Demario. I recall his poor mother, such a nice woman but always on the sad side. It must have been hard on him, being just a boy at the time she worked for your grandma. A real tartar she was! I read in the papers she'd passed away—she was always good to you and Miss Verna, I'll say that for her. Perhaps a bit too fussy and protective, but you were a pretty pair and your parents were dead and I suppose it was understandable.'
    Lucie gazed at Julia as the old memories swept over both of them, and then the ginger hair gave that electrical crackle as Lucie shook her head from side to side. 'I wonder what your grandma would say about your marriage, miss? To think of you—and him! Mrs Demario's boy all grown up into such a fine handsome man!'
    'He was always good-looking.' A tremor ran through Julia; not even to kind-hearted Lucie could she confide the truth behind her marriage. 'I wonder what made him think of hiring you, Lucie?'
    'I reckon he remembered what good friends we were when you were a girl. He seems a very resourceful man, and when he said I'd be looking after you again! Why, it seems only yesterday that I was brushing your long smooth hair in the nursery at your grandma's house. Such hair, and it's still as bright and shining. Cook used to say you owed it to your Dutch ancestors.'
    'I expect I do.' Julia smiled slightly, remembering the portrait of Henryk Van Holden which used to fascinate her when she was a child; big, blond, with a pirate's patch over his left eye. He had founded the family fortune, but now all the money was gone and the big old house on Brookside was a tenement.
    Julia's smile faded and she gave a sigh. 'Life moves on in mysterious ways, doesn't it, Lucie? Do you believe some things happen because fate means them to?'
    'I haven't much doubt of it, miss. Look at the way you and the
signore
have come together again—why, he must've been about eleven years old the last time I saw him. You liked him then, didn't you?'
    'Liked—him?' Julia exclaimed. 'What makes you say that? He never used to speak to me, but he often scowled!'
    Lucie gave a laugh. 'Boys are sometimes like that when they have an eye on a girl. You were the princess in the castle and he must've made up his mind all that time ago to marry you.'
    'No.' Julia shook her head emphatically. 'He never intended to marry me—that's just the way it turned out. I must say you're looking well, Lucie, and your hair still has that lovely crackling sound Verna and I used to love to hear when we got you rattled. You know that Verna's married as well?'
    'Yes, you know what a one I am for reading the gossip columns. You've both done well for yourselves, haven't you?' Lucie gazed around the big silvery bedroom. 'Isn't this glamorous? Those long sweeping curtains, that enormous bed, and a carpet you can sink into up to your ankles. I bet Mrs Demario must be proud of the way her boy has got on in the world?'
    'She died,' Julia said quietly. 'My husband isn't in business, he runs a gambling casino in Naples. I suppose you could say that he's very successful at that sort of thing.'
    Lucie frowned slightly as she studied Julia. 'I wasn't sure what he did for a living. Giovanni speaks English, but he isn't the sort to tell you much, and his wife is all Italian like those pizzas she makes. The daughter is a flighty one, with an eye for the men, so I can't say I have much to do with her. The name they've given her— Maddalena! If you ask me, she'll be living up to it!'
    'She works here in the house?' Julia asked.
    'If you can call flicking a duster round the rooms her main occupation,' Lucie said tardy. 'She spends half the day hanging around the gardener, who isn't all wrinkled and