The Tender Vine (Diamond of the Rockies #3)(71)

“It’s not his land.”

Carina’s hands tightened at her sides. Though he had enjoyed seeing her kick Lorenzo, Quillan touched her shoulder now. “Another time, Carina.”

“No.” She stamped her foot. “This is my home. I will go where I please.”

Angelo moved aside enough that Carina could pass if she wished, but Quillan was blocked. She turned and stalked to the house. Quillan held Angelo’s gaze a full ten seconds before following. He found Carina in their room. She had opened the trunk and thrown her clothing over the bed. “They are insufferable! They think—”

“I’m after what you have.”

She spun. “That’s the only way you would marry me? Is that what they think?”

“I doubt they’ve gone as far as rape and pillage. But they don’t put me past plundering.”

“It’s not funny, Quillan!” She stamped her foot again.

“I’m not laughing.” He pulled her into his arms, dismayed when she started to cry again. “I’m sorry.”

“Oh!” She threw up her hands.

Quillan caught them. “Give it time. They’re shocked and angry.” Especially Flavio, whom he noticed Carina avoided mentioning. “They’ll get used to me.”

“Oh, you don’t know.” She turned away and picked up a blouse from the bed. “Bearing a grudge is an art around here.”

Quillan raised her chin. “They can’t hate me forever.”

“This life and the next.”

Quillan reached for the blouse, draped it under her chin. “Isn’t this the one we fetched off the mountain?”

She nodded.

“You hated me then. But see, I’ve brought you clean around.”

She slid her arms around his waist.

He kissed her, whispering, “T’amo.” Saying “I love you” in her language gave him a warmth that smothered all other concerns. If emotion brought forth Italian, Italian definitely brought emotion. But now was not the time. “I think I’ll wash up.”

“How can you do this?” Her fists came up between them.

“Do what?” He caught her fists in his palms.

“Act as though nothing is wrong?”

What could he tell her? He’d spent most of his life acting as though things didn’t hurt, hiding his fear, his feelings. He wanted to be real with her, as she was with him, but he didn’t know how. He kissed the crown of her head and released her. Then he gathered up his suit and went into the water closet.





Carina stared at the closed door behind which her husband disappeared. Had she missed something? Failed to understand the brutal looks from her brothers, Ti’Giuseppe’s warning? Why did Quillan think this a lark? She had brought him into danger.

She spun and paced the room. She had thought Papa would be gracious even though she had insulted him by not seeking his blessing. She had thought Mamma might be difficult but would come around when she saw their love. She had imagined her brothers playful and adoring as they used to be. Had she changed everything so much?

And then she considered the heart of it. Flavio. She had expected him to marry Divina. Hadn’t she? Or had she known bringing Quillan would be a slap to him? She searched inside, trying to see if there was a motive she had ignored. Yes, she had left with impure intentions. But the Lord had bought her for a price. He had brought her through more than she wanted to think. Even now, when her mind touched all she’d suffered, the hurt was fresh and raw.

No, she hadn’t come home to punish Flavio, hadn’t brought a husband to flaunt in his face. She had only wanted the safety and love of her people. But she had taken wicked delight in Flavio’s shock. “Signore, forgive me.”

One wrong thought now could bring everything down on their heads. God would root out and reveal her darkness. And it was there. A deep-seated satisfaction that she had hurt Flavio as much as he’d hurt her. He might be home right now, brooding on his loss. His fury would have seeped away, leaving the bald pain of love spurned. Despondency would overwhelm him, and he would know that he had caused it. His unfaithfulness had caused it.

“Signore, help me.” She dropped to her knees beside the bed. “I should not gloat, not feel such satisfaction. Let me not take pleasure in his pain. Don’t let me increase it.” For even now thoughts of twisting the knife came to mind. “Am I so wicked? Don’t I know what it is to lose what I love?” She pressed a hand to her belly where she had felt the life of her child and was seized with fear for Quillan. “Signore, protect my husband. Per favore, Dio.”

Quillan then came out looking very presentable. His hair was tied back, revealing the fine bones of his facial features. His broadcloth vest and frock coat did not hide his strong shoulders and muscular form. How handsome and good he was! Surely they would see!

Carina got up from her knees. Now she would dress. Dinner was always formal, but tonight she must show them how right she and Quillan were. She wished her wedding dress had not been ruined but chose it anyway. She had replaced the original lace with an inferior grade and brushed and cleaned all the mud and dust from the sea green silk. She shook it out now from its folds in the trunk and remembered the look in Quillan’s eyes when he’d first seen her in it. Her heart beat a sharp staccato. Signore, I love him so much!