Free The Italian’s Rightful Bride by Lucy Gordon Page A

that?’ he asked tensely.
    â€˜My cellphone,’ she groaned, pulling it out and answering it.
    â€˜Jo? This is Etta.’
    â€˜Who?’ Her mind was blank.
    â€œâ€˜Who?” she says! Henrietta Rannley, your secondcousin once removed. I’m calling from England. Now do you remember me?’
    â€˜Of course,’ Joanna said, trying to pull herself together.
    Etta was the daughter of Lord Rannley, the earl whose stately home had been the background for the drama twelve years ago. Then a child, she’d been Crystal’s bridesmaid.
    For a moment Joanna had to struggle to remember all this, because after the last few minutes Etta seemed as distant as though she were on another planet.
    â€˜I’ve been waiting to hear from you,’ Etta said reproachfully.
    â€˜I’m sorry—about what?’
    â€˜About my wedding, of course. Are you coming or not? You were supposed to let me know.’
    â€˜Oh, heavens! Etta, I’m sorry, I really am—’
    â€˜But you got involved with some old bones so of course they came first.’ She sounded amused. Like all Joanna’s friends and relatives, she had learned to be tolerant.
    â€˜It wasn’t like that—’ Joanna began helplessly.
    â€˜Yes, it was. I know you. Anyway, can you tear yourself away for a couple of days?’
    â€˜I don’t know. I’ll try.’
    â€˜Good. I’ll put you down as a definite.’
    Joanna hung up, to find that Gustavo had walked away. It might have been simply courtesy, leaving her alone with her call, but she knew that for him the moment was over, and whatever it might have meant was gone.
    Whatever it might have meant.
    But something in her rebelled at the thought of going down that path again. She was no lovesick girl, to succumb easily to the sweet, dangerous magic. If she waswise she would escape this place while she could. A few days away would help her get everything in perspective.
    â€˜I think I’d like to go back to the house after all,’ she said, joining him. ‘I need a proper meal.’
    â€˜Of course,’ he said politely. ‘Let me drive you.’
    On the way she began talking about indifferent things, and by the time they reached the house she had almost persuaded herself that she’d imagined it.
    Â 
    Over the next few days she wavered about whether to go back to England for the wedding. She told herself that she was needed here, although she knew her expert team could manage without her for a week, as they had done many times before.
    Gustavo began spending more and more time at the dig, watching details emerge, as intently as though his salvation depended on it. Which in some ways it did, Joanna realised. It hurt her to see the tension in him, and to know that his dearest hopes were unlikely to be realised. To her this place was rich with history, but it was unlikely to bring him the hard cash he needed.
    â€˜It’s not really like you read in books, is it?’ he said to her one day. ‘You dig up a brooch and it’s worth a fortune.’
    â€˜We aren’t likely to be finding things like that,’ she told him gently. ‘This is tiles and bricks.’
    â€˜Dull stuff.’
    â€˜To outsiders, yes.’
    â€˜No ancient remains? No valuable coins?’
    â€˜I’d find them for you if I could, but mostly it doesn’t work like that.’
    â€˜I guess not. I’m sorry, Joanna. Take no notice of me. You have your job to do, and I’m not making it any easier.’
    If she could only put her arms around him, and promise to find something that would make everything all right. The longing to do that swept over her with startling force, showing her the dangerous knife edge on which she was walking.
    Abruptly she got up and walked away.
    But almost at once there was a blinding flash.
    â€˜Was that lightning?’ Hal asked, realising how sharply the temperature had