to dedicate her life to a relationship which was doomed to go nowhere.
In a succession of luxurious shops he bought her an outfit for the christening, plus the most gorgeous hat she had ever seen, two evening gowns, daywear, negligees, and a cashmere wrap.
‘Sometimes the evening breeze which comes down from the mountains can chill the skin,’ he murmured. ‘Especially skin as fine and as fair as yours, Lucy.’
He ran his fingers lightly over her bare arm and Lucy began to tremble. Tersely he asked for the garments to be wrapped and delivered and then took her back to his apartment and made love to her all over again. He was wild for it, and so was she, and the sound of her ecstatic cries rang round his vast bedroom as she lay shuddering in his arms afterwards.
But once the storms of passion had abated Lucy felt different. Something had changed, or at least in her imagination it had, and she wondered if she had given away something of herself in her shamefully easy acceptance of his gifts. Her independence, maybe?
She snuggled into the crook of his arm, for he was sleeping, and her own eyelids began to drift down.
I will only wear the clothes on Mardivino, she vowed.
And after that I’ll go back to being me.
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