The long bar had a variety of drinks already prepared. ‘What do you like? A cocktail? Espresso martini? Strawberry daiquiri? Limoncello? Or some wine?’

  Arturo walked over and helped himself to a chilled bottle of beer and Darcy picked up a strawberry daiquiri. The glass had condensation on it, and the first sip of the drink was pleasantly chilled.

  Arturo led them over to a firm sofa to sit next to his family. As they started to chat, they drifted between a mixture of Italian and English. Clearly, they were speaking English for her benefit, but it was fascinating the way they all switched easily between languages. There were a few spirited exchanges between the siblings, but they were all in Italian and Darcy made a note to ask Arturo what they were sparring about later.

  She relaxed into the sofa, her eyes occasionally caught by movement outside in the grounds. Off to the left, a large marquee had been set up in the garden. It was bigger than any she’d seen before and was already set with tables and chairs. A large archway of pink and white roses framed an arbour that made Darcy wonder if it was being set up for the photographs.

  As the conversation slowed next to her, she turned towards Cara. ‘Everything looks so beautiful. You are so lucky to be getting married in a place that you love.’

  Cara tilted her elbow towards Darcy. ‘Let me give you the full tour.’

  Arturo shot her a worried glance, but his sister gave him a look that only a sister could, and Darcy couldn’t see any way out of this.

  She smiled, slid her arm through Cara’s and let her lead her around the house. Cara was charm itself, self-confident, intelligent, but with a definite hint of something else. Her coral silk dress was exquisite and clung to her perfect figure. She had long lashes, beautiful skin and even her nails were flawless. Darcy had never been the type of person to compare herself to someone else, but every now and then she sensed that Cara was looking at her clothes, her haircut, her nails... Or maybe she was just being entirely paranoid.

  As they walked around the house, Darcy got a true feel for the extent of the property and land that the Fabiano family owned. She lost count of the number of bedrooms and bathrooms in the house. The larger suites had bedrooms, dressing rooms, sitting rooms and en suite bathrooms of their own. The kitchen that the staff worked in was a gleaming stainless-steel ensemble. The storage facilities for food seemed larger than any restaurant’s.

  There was a library, an honest-to-goodness ballroom, multiple sitting rooms and an orangery with a curved glass dome at the back of the house.

  Cara pointed out parts of the grounds—the garages, stables, swimming pool and pool house, tennis courts and staff residences. All the while she gently plied Darcy with questions.

  How had she met Arturo? How well did she know him? Had he told her about his job? What did Darcy do? What exactly was a cybersecurity job? Where did she live? Did she have children? Had she been married before?

  The last question had thrown her, and she’d stumbled over it and been met with a tiny look of suspicion. Darcy should have expected it. She was twenty-nine. Lots of women of her age had been married before. It wasn’t exactly an outrageous question. But she just hadn’t expected it. Was it possible Arturo had said something about her to his family?

  Cara spoke easily, her English had an Italian lilt to it that was hypnotic. But Darcy’s stomach remained half clenched the whole time. Maybe she was a bit tired from the journey. If there had been a chance to wash and change she might have felt a bit brighter. Instead, she felt slightly under the microscope.

  By the time they returned to the bar she was absolutely relieved to see Arturo again—and by the look on his face he was equally relieved to see her. He offered to take her up to her room and she accepted with a smile.

  ‘Thought your sister had taken me captive somewhere?’ she teased as they walked up the stairs.

  ‘It crossed my mind,’ he admitted.

  ‘Are you okay?’ she asked.

  ‘Of course,’ he said immediately, and it made her a tiny bit nervous.

  Two minutes later he showed her to her room, with a large bed and bathroom and beautiful views of the impeccable gardens. From here, she could even see where the wedding festivities were being set up, and it was a real hive of activity.

  ‘We’re not sharing?’ she asked, then wanted to slap herself for coming out with that.

  It was forward, and ridiculous. Their relationship hadn’t changed to that level yet. She was clearly tired or she would never have said that.

  Arturo looked amused. ‘You’re welcome in my room any time you like. Even though my mother and sister will spot you on CCTV, or by the hidden alarms in the house, and likely make you meet our family lawyer on the spot.’

  He must have recognised the horror on her face because he reached over and touched her arm. ‘I’m joking. I didn’t want to presume something, or make my mother ask questions you might not have wanted. I thought you might want some space to yourself once you meet the billion Italian relatives that will be attending tomorrow. Do you want me to move you?’

  She shook her head. ‘No, of course not, and thank you.’

  He’d been courteous and gentlemanly. How would she have really felt if she’d just been shown into his rooms with no conversation about it? So why, oh, why did she feel the tiniest bit offended? She shook it off.

  ‘Want some time to wash and change before dinner tonight?’

  She raised her eyebrow. ‘The dinner you forgot to tell me about?’ She then gave a grateful smile. ‘I’d love it.’

  ‘Will I send you some food up meantime?’

  Her smile widened. ‘Go on then.’ She patted her stomach. ‘I think I’d better try and soak up the cocktails from downstairs.’

  He paused for a moment then gave her a look. ‘Everything will be fine,’ he reassured. ‘My family love you already.’

  As he walked out and closed the door behind him Darcy swallowed nervously and sat down at the window seat. Strangely, she wasn’t entirely reassured. And if she knew Arturo at all, from the expression on his face, neither was he.

  * * *

  Arturo was restless. He could already sense the vibe from his family. It wasn’t that they didn’t like Darcy. This was his fault. He’d sprung her on them at short notice. And while it had seemed like a good idea at the time, now, he wasn’t so sure.

  She’d looked nervy and jangly when she’d come back from the walk with his sister. He wondered what Cara had said. She had a gift for sometimes saying things without actually saying them. She also had a face that could express a thousand words. And he only hoped she hadn’t made Darcy feel unwelcome, although he was certain she would never do that deliberately.

  Or maybe it was the estate. He hadn’t really gone into a lot of details with Darcy before they’d got here. Maybe the size of the place overwhelmed her. She had known about his office space, and about where he was staying in Edinburgh. Both places were clearly expensive, but he had never hinted at how much his family were worth. The cost of the office space, or hotel bill in Edinburgh, would easily be covered by the interest the family accounts made in only one day.

  Tonight’s meal would be a traditional sit-down family dinner, with several aunts, uncles and cousins from both sides, the groom’s parents and brother, Arturo, his mother, Darcy, Cara and Dante. There would be around twenty people, which might seem a lot, but considering that another two hundred would arrive for the wedding on Sunday, it was actually minimal.

  He’d forgotten to mention the dinner to Darcy at first—they’d been too busy talking about the wedding. So he’d made a few calls to ensure there would be something appropriate for her in the wardrobe to wear tonight. He’d gone for a few options and hoped she’d like something.

  He walked through to the kitchen and found Rosa, one of their staff, and asked her to take some food up to Darcy. Then he made his way back through to the bar to find his sister. She was sipping a negroni at the bar, her long legs swinging as she sat on a tall stool. She shot him a smile.

  ‘Tell me you didn’t bite her.’

  Cara was momentarily amused. It was their own joke. She had actually bitten one of their mutual friends when she’d been three years old. ‘That better not be in your speech,’ she warned.

  He smiled easily and tapped the side of his nose. ‘I’ll never tell.’ He moved over to his sister, ‘Where’s Dante?’

  ‘He’s gone to meet his parents and brother. They’ll be back in time for dinner.’

  He gave a slow nod, wanting—but not wanting—to ask his sister a million questions about what she thought of Darcy.

  ‘Would you like to dance?’ he said with a hint of amusement in his voice as he held his hand out to her.

  The expression on her face became serious and she downed her negroni rather quickly. ‘I swear if you haven’t practised I will kill you,’ she said. And he knew she completely meant it.

  They walked through to the ballroom. It was already dressed for the evening reception tomorrow night and looked impeccable. Arturo pulled out his phone and set it on the side, music filling the room. He led her into the middle of the dance floor and bowed. Cara looked at him in surprise and gave a prompt curtsey, then they both moved into position.

  He started easily, listening to the music, following the beat and picturing the steps in his mind as he did them with his feet. His sister followed smoothly. She’d probably learned the Viennese waltz in a day. Cara had always been the type of person who made dance look effortless.

  He was saying the steps in his head. Forward turn, reverse turn, forward change with left foot, backward change with left foot, and chassé, change steps.

  As the music stopped Cara stepped back, an unbelieving expression on her face, and she raised her hands and started clapping. ‘I can’t actually believe it. You managed it.’

  ‘You have Margaret Scott to thank for that.’ He leaned forward and whispered in her ear, ‘Former world champion for the Viennese waltz, and Darcy, of course, who’s been my partner.’ He gave a soft smile. ‘She has suffered stood-on and bruised toes on your behalf.’

  Cara studied him closely. ‘You like her.’ It was enough. She wasn’t going to ask a million questions of her brother. She was just going to ask the most important one.

  ‘I like her,’ he agreed.

  ‘Do you love her?’

  He closed his eyes. He should have known she would go there. How did he answer this question when he wasn’t sure of the answer himself?

  ‘I think I could,’ he said slowly, a sweeping realisation coming over him.

  Cara stepped forward and put her hand on her brother’s chest. ‘Have you told her?’

  ‘About thinking I could love her, or about something else?’ he asked, momentarily confused.

  ‘About Faye, you dummy,’ she said, slapping him on the chest.

  He nodded. ‘Yes, I’ve told her.’

  Cara’s eyebrows raised. She knew him better than he wanted to admit. ‘If you’ve told her, does that mean you’re ready to move on? Are you ready to love her?’ Her voice was passionate, and he knew that his sister loved him fiercely and had his best interests at heart.

  ‘I don’t know,’ he said, distinctly uncomfortable with this line of questioning now. ‘There’s something else. I know she lost her sister a few years ago. I know that was tough for her family. She revealed something else to me, just before she came here. The truth is, I’m not sure that she’s ready. It feels like she might still have some walls up.’

  ‘You’d know all about that.’

  His eyes widened and he turned to his sister. She had one hand on her hip. ‘What? I’ve been Team Arturo all my life. You’ve brought this girl to my wedding, Arturo. You’re going to introduce her to around two hundred people tomorrow, half of whom are distant relatives of ours. You’re effectively putting her under a microscope. Is she ready? You must know that as soon as I’m married, all our mother’s attention will be on you.’

  She shook her head and gave her brother a sympathetic look. ‘I only hope you’ve done the right thing bringing her here. And I hope she’s ready for tomorrow.’

  He swallowed, knowing his sister was entirely right, and hating every second of that.

  Cara shook her hair out—a terrible habit—and walked back over to him. ‘Thank you for learning how to dance for my wedding,’ she said with a grin. ‘But promise me you won’t keep mumbling the steps tomorrow night as you do them.’

  ‘I was?’ he asked in a shocked voice.

  ‘You were—’ she laughed ‘—just be glad I don’t have video evidence!’

  She gave a casual wave and walked out of the ballroom, leaving Arturo alone.

  Alone to contemplate what she’d just said.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  ROSA, THE MAID, was a dream. She’d come in with a tray of food as Darcy was unpacking her clothes. She’d taken one look at her outfit for the wedding tomorrow, which hadn’t travelled quite as well as she’d hoped, and asked if she’d like Rosa to steam it for her.

  She’d then directed Darcy to a walk-in cupboard where a few items were already hanging in covered sleeves.

  ‘Mr Fabiano asked that some items were delivered for you for tonight. I believe he forgot to mention the family dinner.’ Her eyes gleamed with amusement.

  ‘He did,’ said Darcy, staring at the items on the hangers, not sure if she liked Arturo buying clothes for her.

  ‘Don’t worry,’ said Rosa conspiratorially. ‘He has good taste, and said to pick whatever you like.’ She turned to leave, but paused at the door. ‘And if you don’t like anything, come and find me. I’ll be able to find you something to wear.’

  She gave a wave and left the room.

  How nice. Darcy’s stomach growled, but she was too enticed now by the clothes in the walk-in closet. Her own things hanging there felt meagre in comparison, even though she was perfectly happy with them.

  She unzipped the covers over the new clothes. The first was an elegant black jumpsuit with a black sequinned belt, the second a red dress by a popular Italian designer with matching red-soled shoes, the third another dress, this time in silver, with fine straps and a cowl neckline, and the last was a rose-pink dress with a square neck and ruched design that fell just below her knees.

  All of these were gorgeous. She hesitated for around five seconds, then sent photos of them all to Fizz. As she sat down to eat, her table turned towards the display of clothes, Fizz gave her detailed thoughts on every dress. And whilst all of them were complimentary, they made her laugh out loud. It was almost as if her sister was in the room with her.

  As she nibbled at the crusty bread, thin cut meat, cheese and olives she’d been brought, she walked into the grand bathroom and started running the shower. The truth was, she actually wanted to try all the outfits on. There was none she wanted to instantly dismiss. And that surprised her. Her initial indignation about Arturo buying her clothes had vanished. Granted, none of these clothes had price tags on them, and maybe if they did the indignation would return.

  But, for now, she was just going to accept the gift with good grace. After all, if he’d warned her about a family dinner she would have brought something appropriate.

  One hour later, showered, hair dried and make-up on, she stood in front of the full-length mirror admiring the black jumpsuit. She honestly liked it best, and when Rosa came back in the room with her crease-free dress for tomorrow she gave her an appreciative look.

  ‘That’s gorgeous. Is that the one you’re going with?’

  Darcy took one last look. The silver sandals matched impeccably and the black sequinned belt cinched the jumpsuit perfectly at her waist. ‘It’s the one I like best.’

  ‘You look great.’ Rosa hung up the dress Fizz had sent for her. ‘As for tomorrow, your dress will look fantastic. What colour of wrist corsage would you like?’

  ‘I think cream would be best.’

  ‘No problem.’

  There was a knock at the door, even though it was open, and she looked up to see Arturo standing in black trousers and a white shirt. He wore no tie, his dress shirt open at the neck and his jacket draped casually over his arm.

  He walked in, not hiding the smile on his face at her choice of clothes. ‘You look gorgeous.’ He kissed her cheek and she gave a nervous laugh as Rosa was watching them.

  He held out his arm for her and she joined him, walking down the curved staircase as he guided her to a room she’d only seen at a glance on the tour with Cara. His phone pinged and he pulled it from his pocket and silenced it without a word.

  Some of the guests were already seated and she patiently let Arturo lead her around the room and introduce her to a host of aunts and uncles whose names she tried her best to remember.

  As she settled in the chair next to him, a distinct feeling of unrest came over her. It wasn’t the people, or the place. It was the wedding, and all the festivities around it, that were taking root in her brain and sparking memories she’d long since forgotten.

  There was a round of applause and Dante and Cara entered, hand in hand, Dante in a smart suit and Cara in a spectacular green dress. Cara air kissed her way around the table, leaving no lipstick marks, her perfect smile never leaving her face. Instead of sitting at one end of the table, they sat together in the middle, giving themselves more opportunity to talk to their guests on either side.

  ‘Cara looks beautiful,’ Darcy murmured.

  Arturo leaned a little closer. ‘It’s an Italian tradition. The bride wears green to the rehearsal dinner because it’s supposed to bring good fortune for the happy couple’s big day.’

  ‘I hadn’t thought about Italian traditions,’ said Darcy softly, little pieces of panic taking seed in her brain.