Wife in the Shadows by Sara Craven Page A

independence. Which will last a great deal longer than this—pretend marriage.’
    He said something under his breath. Then: ‘And you did not think to consult me before putting these arrangements—in place?’
    ‘I thought of it—yes.’ She stared rigidly ahead through the windscreen. ‘But I decided I knew what you would say. And if you now countermand my instructions, then your staff will know that—as well as everything else—my wishes do not matter to you, which will make it difficult for me to gain their respect, and run Vostranto as efficiently as you seem to wish.’
    There was another silence, then he said softly, ‘I see I have underestimated you, Elena. On this occasion, I shall allow your orders to stand. But make sure—make very sure—that you do not underestimate me. I am still the master of Vostranto.’
    ‘Of the house—yes.’ Her heart was thudding wildly. ‘But you’re not my master, Count Manzini, and you never will be.’
    He jerked the wheel suddenly, and Ellie cried out as the car veered to the side of the road, coming to rest on the grass verge.
    ‘You like to challenge me, it seems,
mia bella.’
His voice bit. ‘But you have done so once too often.’
    He reached for her almost negligently, pulling her hard into his arms. His mouth was hard too, and sensually explicit, inflicting a kiss without mercy which left the softness of her lips bruised and burning when at last he raised his head.
    His gaze was mocking, cynical, as he looked down at her.
    ‘So, now you know, Elena, what it means to make me angry. You would be well advised not to risk it again.
Capisce?’
    She said in a voice she did not recognise, ‘I—I understand.’ And did not speak again for the remainder of the journey.

CHAPTER SIX
    E LLIE STOOD, her arms wrapped almost protectively across her body, in the middle of the room she would now have to learn to call hers. Which made it, she thought, swallowing, no less imposing. Or daunting.
    Besides being the only place in the house where she still felt like a stranger—an interloper.
    That great canopied monolith was so obviously a marriage bed that she found herself wondering how many Manzini wives had lain there in the past waiting to perform their marital duties—something which, at least, she would be spared.
    At the same time, her fingers strayed momentarily to her mouth, still tender and slightly swollen from the ravishment of his kiss.
    She recognised, of course, that it had been foolish to provoke him, but his high-handed manner was enough to try the patience of a saint.
    But, to her relief, he had not so much as glanced in her direction again until their arrival at the house, when he’d escorted her between the two rows of happily applauding staff to the door, lifted her into his arms and carried her across the threshold to more cheers and laughter.
    And she’d forced herself to smile as if she was a real bride, and that this traditional ritual, ensuring she did not inadvertently trip or stumble on entering her new home, would actually bring her marriage good luck.
    Good fortune, however, was the last thing on her mind. Theprevious few days had been a strain, and now that it had all stopped, she felt tired and almost on the verge of tears.
    She had been served coffee and delicious lemon-flavoured biscuits in the
salotto,
after which Angelo had excused himself with cool politeness and gone off to his study to read his emails.
    Ellie, in her turn, was whisked upstairs by Assunta. She found, to her astonishment, that her cases had already been unpacked and their contents put away in the dressing room by someone called Donata, who was, it seemed, her personal maid, and who would return later to help her bathe and change for the evening ahead.
    ‘But I don’t want a maid,’ Ellie protested. ‘I wouldn’t know what to do with one.’
    ‘She will know,’ Assunta said firmly. ‘Besides for the wife of Count Manzini, it is most necessary. You will see.’