To Wear His Ring Again by Chantelle Shaw Page B

not been close. The wood-panelled entrance hall of Casa Celeste was lined with portraits of Constantin’s aristocratic ancestors, and Isobel had been struck by the realisation that the child she was carrying was the next generation in the noble lineage of the De Severino family. Looking at the haughty faces of her baby’s predecessors, she had felt out of her depth, and she had wondered if Constantin was secretly disappointed that the mother of his heir had been a miner’s daughter before he had made her his Marchesa.
    â€˜I had the feeling when we stayed at Casa Celeste that you thought our marriage was a mistake. I didn’t fit into your sophisticated lifestyle and I wasn’t a glamorous socialite like the women you were used to. I...I sensed that you were ashamed of me,’ she said huskily.
    He looked genuinely surprised. ‘That’s nonsense.’
    â€˜Is it? Then explain why you turned into a stranger on that trip, and why you became cold and distant.’
    Constantin frowned. ‘Nothing changed. You imagined things.’
    â€˜You slept in another bedroom—at the opposite end of the house.’
    â€˜I moved into another room because you felt uncomfortable as your pregnancy advanced and you were too hot when we shared a bed.’
    Isobel was unconvinced, especially when she remembered how well the villa’s air-conditioning system worked. The only reason she’d been able to think of for why Constantin had insisted on separate bedrooms was that he had found the visible signs of her pregnancy unattractive. She had loved her rounded belly, but when she had excitedly placed Constantin’s hand on her stomach so that he could feel the faint fluttering as their baby moved he had tensed and quickly stepped away from her.
    His reaction had been all the more surprising because a few days before they had gone to Italy he had accompanied her to her second antenatal scan, and his hard features had softened when he had seen the image of their baby girl on the screen. Arianna had been perfectly formed and appeared to be healthy. Her little heart had been beating strongly. There had been no reason to think that her pregnancy would not continue, Isobel thought emotively, no indication of the terrible events that had followed days after she and Constantin had arrived at Casa Celeste.
    â€˜You were unsettled at the villa,’ she insisted, recalling how he had seemed permanently on edge. They had gone to Italy because he had needed to attend a board meeting at DSE’s head office in Rome, but in August Isobel had found the scorching temperature in the city too much, and so they had transferred to Casa Celeste, where it was cooler by the lake. The moment they had walked through the front door she had sensed a change in Constantin, and she had been puzzled by his reluctance to spend time at his childhood home.
    On their first night at the villa she had been woken by him crying out in his sleep, but he had dismissed his nightmare as a result of drinking too much red wine and told her he couldn’t remember what he had dreamed about. From then on he had slept in a different bedroom, but Isobel knew that his nights had been disturbed.
    â€˜You had nightmares. I heard you shouting in your sleep.’
    He shrugged. ‘I seem to recall that I had a dream the night we arrived. I also remember that the wine I’d drunk that evening hadn’t tasted right. I suspect it had gone bad, which probably accounted for my disturbed sleep.’
    â€˜No.’ Isobel held her ground. ‘You had nightmares on other nights.’ She shivered. ‘Your cries were...ungodly—like an animal in terrible pain. You must have dreamed about something truly horrific.’
    Constantin stiffened. ‘How could you have heard me? My room was far away from yours and the walls of Casa Celeste are too thick for sound to carry any distance.’
    â€˜I...’ She flushed, and