that she leap from the tower window. 'Y-you can't be serious !'
'I am deadly serious, madam. The boy is a Falcone and I wish him to have the full protection of my name and my position.'
'Marriage !' she gasped. 'It's out of the question !' 'It's very much part of the question,' he said, and his voice was as firm as steel. 'If you become my wife, then your son becomes my son, and no one will dare to breathe a word of scandal in connection with the boy, unless they wish to deal with me. I can be a harsh man when angered, madam.'
'I don't doubt it,' she said, and could feel her hears beating so hard that she might have been running, and indeed she felt as if she were running madly away in her mind from this mad and impossible proposal of marriage from a man she hardly knew. He was Vin-cenzo's brother and she had learned to distrust any hint of Latin charm and persuasion ... not that there was anything that remotely resembled charm in the baróne's attitude at this precise moment. His eyes were a hard, demanding gold that intensified the dark scarred nobility of his face.
'If you don't doubt it, then don't make me angry,' he said. 'As a Falcone I'm not proud of the fact that my brother led you up a garden path strewn with thorns. I can make reparation for that, and you will permit me to do so.'
Carol sat there stunned, and up through the windows floated the sound of cicadas grating their back legs in the foliage of the gardens. She smelled the heady musk of flowers mingling with that of old stone and water. 'I - I could never agree to such a reparation,' she said at last. 'You have no need to go that far, signore, for two people you knew nothing about until we turned up on your doorstep.'
'You are looking for excuses,' he said, with a sudden touch of harshness. 'You declare your love for the boy, but it isn't strong enough to make you close your eyes to the face of a ugly husband. Did you imagine, madam, that I was proposing a love match, and that I'd expect you to fall into my arms?'
'Yes - no—' Carol didn't know what she expected, certainly not a proposal of any sort from a powerful italian landowner. 'Surely you didn't expect me to say yes to you?'
'Am I such a monster?' he asked.
'Oh no - your face has nothing to do with it ! We're strangers to each other, that's what I meant. You don't owe Teri that much, to tie yourself to — to your brother's woman.'
'You requested that I didn't call you his woman, but others will do so. Though you live under my roof, there will he whispers about your son. Are you strong enough to take those, but not brave enough to marry me?'
Strong enough? Her hands trembled, and she was so tired of being tough all the time, afraid to give in to weakness and tears. For five years she had stood alone and fought for Teri, but now - now a man offered to share that burden and it would have been terribly tempting to just give in and not fight any more.
'Strangers don't marry, signore,' she said. 'I made that mistake once before, and I daren't make it again, least of all with Vincenzo's very own brother.'
'Do you imagine I am like him? Women were a relaxation for me, not an obsession. It was another woman, I suppose, who took Vincenzo away from you?'
'Yes.' She saw Cynara again, so defiant, with smeared lips, and a rip in her violet-coloured bridesmaid's dress.
'You wouldn't be entirely the type of woman for my brother.' Those eyes that might never soften again for any woman made a relentless search of Carol's face. 'I never knew him to go in for the sensitive type with a mind of her own, but at eighteen you would have been as tender and untouched as a new rose, and I imagine he found that irresistible - for a while. Then he reverted to the more obvious sort, am I correct?'
'Uncannily correct,' she said, and it gave her a curious jolt that this man should speak of her as an untouched rose ... how did he regard her now, as a fallen flower?
'I am deadly serious, madam. The boy is a Falcone and I wish him to have the full protection of my name and my position.'
'Marriage !' she gasped. 'It's out of the question !' 'It's very much part of the question,' he said, and his voice was as firm as steel. 'If you become my wife, then your son becomes my son, and no one will dare to breathe a word of scandal in connection with the boy, unless they wish to deal with me. I can be a harsh man when angered, madam.'
'I don't doubt it,' she said, and could feel her hears beating so hard that she might have been running, and indeed she felt as if she were running madly away in her mind from this mad and impossible proposal of marriage from a man she hardly knew. He was Vin-cenzo's brother and she had learned to distrust any hint of Latin charm and persuasion ... not that there was anything that remotely resembled charm in the baróne's attitude at this precise moment. His eyes were a hard, demanding gold that intensified the dark scarred nobility of his face.
'If you don't doubt it, then don't make me angry,' he said. 'As a Falcone I'm not proud of the fact that my brother led you up a garden path strewn with thorns. I can make reparation for that, and you will permit me to do so.'
Carol sat there stunned, and up through the windows floated the sound of cicadas grating their back legs in the foliage of the gardens. She smelled the heady musk of flowers mingling with that of old stone and water. 'I - I could never agree to such a reparation,' she said at last. 'You have no need to go that far, signore, for two people you knew nothing about until we turned up on your doorstep.'
'You are looking for excuses,' he said, with a sudden touch of harshness. 'You declare your love for the boy, but it isn't strong enough to make you close your eyes to the face of a ugly husband. Did you imagine, madam, that I was proposing a love match, and that I'd expect you to fall into my arms?'
'Yes - no—' Carol didn't know what she expected, certainly not a proposal of any sort from a powerful italian landowner. 'Surely you didn't expect me to say yes to you?'
'Am I such a monster?' he asked.
'Oh no - your face has nothing to do with it ! We're strangers to each other, that's what I meant. You don't owe Teri that much, to tie yourself to — to your brother's woman.'
'You requested that I didn't call you his woman, but others will do so. Though you live under my roof, there will he whispers about your son. Are you strong enough to take those, but not brave enough to marry me?'
Strong enough? Her hands trembled, and she was so tired of being tough all the time, afraid to give in to weakness and tears. For five years she had stood alone and fought for Teri, but now - now a man offered to share that burden and it would have been terribly tempting to just give in and not fight any more.
'Strangers don't marry, signore,' she said. 'I made that mistake once before, and I daren't make it again, least of all with Vincenzo's very own brother.'
'Do you imagine I am like him? Women were a relaxation for me, not an obsession. It was another woman, I suppose, who took Vincenzo away from you?'
'Yes.' She saw Cynara again, so defiant, with smeared lips, and a rip in her violet-coloured bridesmaid's dress.
'You wouldn't be entirely the type of woman for my brother.' Those eyes that might never soften again for any woman made a relentless search of Carol's face. 'I never knew him to go in for the sensitive type with a mind of her own, but at eighteen you would have been as tender and untouched as a new rose, and I imagine he found that irresistible - for a while. Then he reverted to the more obvious sort, am I correct?'
'Uncannily correct,' she said, and it gave her a curious jolt that this man should speak of her as an untouched rose ... how did he regard her now, as a fallen flower?
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