do you think, Anna?’ she asked the young girl.
‘Bellissima.’ Anna grinned. ‘Very elegant.’
‘Thank you.’ Kelly smiled back. The one good thing to come out of her first two weeks at the Casa Maldini was Anna. She was friendly, could speak a little English, and was eager to help. In fact, she had just spent half an hour doing Kelly’s hair in an elaborate twist on the crown of her head with a few loose tendrils to frame her face. She watched the girl depart, then nervously she glanced once more at her reflection in the mirror. She so wanted to make a good impression on Gianfranco’s friends.
The past two weeks had not been easy. She had expected some difficulty in adjusting to her husband’s lifestyle, but she had never expected to feel so lonely. Aldo woke them in the morning at seven with coffee. Ten minutes later Gianfranco, washed and dressed, left her lying in bed while he started work, and if she was lucky she saw him at lunch. But most days it was eight in the evening before he reappeared.
Only once had he taken her out. With supreme efficiency he had whisked her into Verona and opened a bank account for her. Then he had registered her with his doctor and waited while she had a scan. On returning to the house he had dismissed her with a brief smile and told her he would see her later. By ‘later’ he meant over a very formal dinner with his mother and Olivia, or in bed.
Her lips quirked in the briefest of smiles; at least in bed she had his full attention, but it was the only place, she wryly conceded.
She had made a disturbing discovery about her husband. ‘Count Gianfranco Maldini’ the businessman was a totally different male animal from the Gianni she had fallen in love with. He was a workaholic, and he was spoilt rotten. His mother and Olivia waited on him hand and foot, as did all the staff, as if he was the Master of the Universe, and he took their adoration as his due. Their attitude to Kelly was not so friendly, though she had tried telling herself she must be mistaken when she thought she understood Olivia’s sly comments in Italian. She had tried to convince herself she was being paranoid, but yesterday was a case in point.
Gianfranco had informed her in the morning that his mother and Olivia were going to take her shopping. When Kelly had asked him to go with her instead he had pleaded pressure of work, and then added, ‘Mamma knows the right places to shop for a woman in your condition, whereas I haven’t a clue.’
Sensitivity was obviously not his strong point. Kelly knew damn fine what he had meant. Probably the only clothes he had ever bought for women were of the designer variety from exclusive boutiques. Not maternity wear.
She’d been seething with resentment by the time she had returned from the shopping trip. Carmela and Olivia had overridden anything she had suggested with the comment that they knew best the acceptable way for pregnant women to dress in Italian society. Kelly had felt about two inches tall and shut up. Consequently she’d returned to the house with three of the most enormous dresses she’d ever clapped eyes on. However hard she tried, she could not convince herself Carmela and Olivia were looking after her best interests—in fact, quite the reverse.
She had said as much to Gianfranco, and he had gone all cold on her. He had told her she was jumping to ridiculous conclusions over a few misunderstood words, and then suggested it was her hormones playing up because of her pregnancy.
Walking out of the bedroom, Kelly knew she was pinning all her hopes on tonight; she wanted to fit in and make friends, but not at the loss of her pride and self-esteem. Which was why she was wearing the dress she had bought herself in England.
Taking a deep breath, she walked into the salon. Gianfranco had come down earlier. Olivia, looking stunning in a midnight-blue strapless and backless dress that clung to her every curve, was standing so close to him that they were almost touching.
Seeing her husband looking so incredibly handsome in a formal black dinner suit, smiling down at Olivia, gave Kelly a nasty jolt somewhere in the region of her heart. Straightening her shoulders, she walked into the middle of the room. ‘Good evening.’
It was like watching a tableau unfold. Carmela was the first to notice Kelly, and when she did her perfectly plucked eyebrows rose in surprise.
Then Olivia laughed. ‘Surely you’re not wearing that?’ she said, eyeing Kelly as if she had crawled out from under a rock.
Stiffening defensively, Kelly said, ‘Yes, I am.’ It was a perfectly plain silk-jersey black dress. Tiny diamanté straps supported a bodice that was cut in a straight line across her breasts. The material, cut on the bias, clung slightly from under her bust to just above her knees.
Kelly ignored the babble of Italian that ensued and glanced across at Gianfranco, waiting for him to smile to give her some support.
Gianfranco’s dark eyes made a swift analytical survey of her stiffly held figure as he walked across to her. ‘You look very nice, Kelly.’ In fact, he thought she looked delectable, but he could see his mother’s point of view.
‘Damned with faint praise,’ Kelly said drily as Gianfranco stopped and stared down at her from beneath hooded lids, his expression unreadable.
‘No, really, you know you always look beautiful,’ he said soothingly. ‘But Mamma thought you would have worn one of the gowns she bought for you. She is of the opinion they are much more suitable for a wife during her confinement, and on matters of taste Mamma does know what is best. You would do well to take notice of her.’
Confinement! The old-fashioned term made Kelly bristle with indignation. Dear heaven, her arrogant husband and his sainted mother had got that right! she thought. She was beginning to feel more and more as if she was in jail. Well, to hell with the pair of them, tonight she was going to enjoy herself, if it was the last thing she did.
‘I’ll make your apologies, should it be necessary, while you change,’ Gianfranco continued smoothly. ‘But hurry.’
‘No.’
One ebony brow arched. ‘No! You refuse?’
She almost laughed, he looked so astounded. ‘Got it in one.’
He caught her arm. ‘Kelly, you’re behaving foolishly. Now go upstairs and change,’ he commanded, his dark eyes revealing his irritation.
Kelly glared up at him. ‘I would look foolish if I wore any of the dresses I got yesterday. I’m five and a half months pregnant, not nine,’ she snorted, nervous tension heightening her already rising temper. ‘They make me look like an elephant. You should—you should see them.’
Gianfranco smiled when she began to splutter—a very masculine grin. ‘I see.’ He let go of her arm. ‘Female vanity I can understand,’ he drawled mockingly.
She wanted to hit him; he was so damn condescending. But she never got the chance as Aldo announced the first guests had arrived. Carefully holding her temper under tight control, Kelly braced herself to meet a host of strangers.
It was nowhere near as bad as she had feared. Gianfranco’s friends were not nearly as intimidating as his mother and sister-in-law, a mixture of local people and business acquaintances, and when Judy and Carlo Bertoni arrived Kelly could not hide her delight.
The buffet meal was exquisite, the conversation a mixture of English and Italian. Carmela sparkled and was the perfect hostess, and with Olivia quickly had a group of people hanging onto her every word.
Kelly, finding
