Arturo didn’t seem to notice. ‘We have a few. I’ll fill you in tomorrow.’

  As drinks were served and food put in front of them, her skin prickled. She’d had a rehearsal dinner the night before her own wedding, with some of her relatives and Damian.

  Hindsight was a wonderful thing, and whereas she’d thought him a bit jittery at the time, she hadn’t paid attention to that. Laura had had a bad day at chemo a few days before and had tried her best to come for dinner, but lasted only a few minutes before going to lie down. The truth was, Darcy had been much more worried about her sister than any potential issues with her groom.

  On reflection, Damian must have been feeling terrible. He’d drunk too much, not paid attention to the conversation around him and missed several jokes, clearly because he was thinking about other things. He’d asked to chat later, but Darcy had forgotten. Mainly because she’d been sitting at Laura’s bedside, stroking her hair, as she wondered about the dark circles under Laura’s eyes and the translucent appearance of her skin.

  All of these things she’d pushed away. They’d been forgotten under the weight of actually being stood up at the altar. Warning signs she should have seen.

  Warning signs that hadn’t appeared in her brain much before now.

  She’d been honest with Arturo and told him she hadn’t attended a wedding since the disaster of her own. But somehow she’d totally underestimated how being here would make her feel. In truth, she hadn’t expected it. And she hated the part of her brain that was allowing herself to dwell on the past, rather than focus on the present with this vivacious family and her gorgeous partner.

  ‘You okay?’ asked Arturo as she pushed her wine away.

  ‘I’m fine,’ she said automatically. ‘Just decided to switch to water for now.’

  He gave her an odd look, and she wondered if she’d just committed some cardinal sin by pushing Italian wine away whilst she was eating Italian food. But her stomach just couldn’t cope.

  The waiter filled her glass with water and she sipped as she nibbled at her food. It was delicious but her appetite had left her. A million things were catapulting around her brain, and she honestly couldn’t believe she was being triggered by things five years on.

  Even to her, it felt ridiculous. She’d reflected. She was adult enough to know it had been for the best. Yes, it had been upsetting at the time, but she’d got over it.

  She wasn’t even sure how much she’d actually loved Damian. She’d thought she had, but now wondered if it would ever have gone the distance.

  ‘Something wrong with your food?’ Arturo asked.

  She put her hand on her abdomen. ‘Nervous stomach,’ she admitted. It wasn’t a lie. It just wasn’t entirely the truth either.

  Many of the conversations around her were in Italian, and she was kicking herself for not trying to pick up a few basic words. She hadn’t done languages at school for exams, so only knew a few sentences in French and Spanish, as those had been the basics they’d covered in the first year of high school.

  Of course she’d only known Arturo for a few weeks, and he’d only asked her to the wedding barely one week ago, but if she’d forward planned she would have asked him for a few hints. Too late now.

  It made her feel quite ignorant, and awkward. A wave came over her. On the way here she’d been slightly nervous. But sitting here now she felt completely and utterly out of her depth.

  She was in a strange country, with lots of people speaking their own language, being triggered by just about everything around her in a way she could never have imagined for herself.

  She could hear the almost silent buzz from Arturo’s phone. It was clearly ringing out and he was still ignoring it. She could ask him about it, but she was too swamped with what else was happening.

  She’d subconsciously noticed all the wedding preparations but hadn’t let her focus go there. The beautiful flowers being brought in earlier today, the aroma in the household, the white linen and table settings visible in the marquee outside.

  Arturo’s hand closed over hers. ‘Darcy?’

  It was just the way he said her name. She caught her breath, gave him a glance and said in a low voice, ‘I need a moment.’

  It must have been the look on her face. He stood up smoothly, but with no delay, and pulled her chair out for her.

  She gave a brief smile and nod, muttering Scusi to those at the table, but didn’t wait. She walked swiftly out the room, making a split-second decision. Did she want to be outside? Or somewhere inside?

  Her legs made the decision for her, walking her quickly to the bathroom that Arturo had first shown her when they’d arrived at the house. She closed the door behind her with a click, then let herself slide down the cool tiled wall.

  Black spots had entered her vision, but as soon as she reached the floor, her short sharp breathing started to slow.

  She leaned forward, putting her head in her hands and concentrating on her breathing for a few moments, telling herself how ridiculous and pathetic this was.

  She was a twenty-nine-year-old woman, and was sitting on some bathroom floor like a teenager. Shame flooded through her.

  No. That wasn’t helping. She lifted her head and leaned it back, letting the cold of the tile penetrate through to her scalp. Yes, that helped centre her a little.

  Darcy closed her eyes, wishing she was miles away from this place right now and wouldn’t have to make up some random excuse for her behaviour. She wasn’t even sure how to explain what had just happened.

  ‘Darcy?’ The soft voice sounded at the door. ‘Are you okay? Do you need me to get you anything?’

  Darn it. Arturo. Of course it was. He was here for his sister’s wedding. He should be concentrating on that. He should be enjoying himself.

  This wasn’t about her. None of this was about her. She took another few long breaths. Her mouth was so dry.

  She pushed herself up from the floor, washed her hands first, then splashed some water on her face. Apart from the red spots high on her cheeks, she didn’t look too bad.

  She swallowed then clicked the door open. Arturo was pacing outside, worry evident across his face. He moved to her instantly. ‘Is it all too much?’

  She gulped, hating how she was feeling. ‘I don’t want to spoil the evening. Would you mind if I went to bed? I think I’m just overtired.’

  ‘If you can’t do this—if it’s all too much—you need to let me know.’

  She swallowed, a huge lump in her throat at how understanding he was being, and how truly pathetic she felt right now. ‘I’m sorry. I’ll be fine tomorrow,’ and even as she said the words, her brain told her that she had to be. She had to get past this. She had to move on with her life.

  He put his arm gently behind her and walked her up the stairs to her room, giving her a soft kiss on the cheek at the door. ‘Do you want me to stay with you?’

  It was the first time she didn’t want to say yes. She needed to sort her head out. She needed to understand why she felt so swamped.

  ‘I’ll be fine. Go, join your family. But thank you. I’ll see you in the morning.’

  She could see the tiny shards of regret in his eyes, but couldn’t let herself be influenced by them.

  He gave her a nod as she closed the door. She waited a moment before moving over to her bed. In the quickest change known to man, she slipped off the beautiful jumpsuit and her underwear, and pulled on her dark green shortie pyjamas, only noticing the colour at the last minute.

  She still needed some air, so moved to the large windows and pulled one open, sitting on the window seat, with her back against the frame and her bent leg poised at the edge.

  As the cool Italian air drifted in, she felt instantly better. It carried with it the aroma of the wedding flowers but, instead of distressing her, now she was alone, she just closed her eyes and let her body cool down.

  She could call Fizz. She could call Libby. She could tell either one of them what had just happened, and that right now she felt as if she couldn’t trust herself, or her own judgement.

  But how did you explain something you didn’t really understand yourself?

  Tears glistened in her eyes. She had to hold things together. She had to keep her emotions in check—but then Arturo’s face came into her head.

  How was it for him? She’d been so focused on herself she hadn’t considered him. His family home must be throwing up memories for him too, likely of his father.

  He had to step into his father’s shoes tomorrow and give his sister away. The pressure was real. They’d laughed and joked at the dance class, but now she’d had a glimpse of his family life and estate, she understood why he’d wanted things to be perfect for his sister.

  Embarrassment swept over her again. He needed support right now, not a girlfriend who was crumbling.

  Girlfriend? Was that what she was? She didn’t even know that. What she did know was that she was glad to have a little space right now to try and sort her head out.

  Tomorrow was another day.

  And she only hoped she could get through it.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  HE HADN’T SLEPT well last night, which was never a good idea when the next day would be so full-on.

  He’d had breakfast at five, then again at six, with Dante, who was a mixture of nervous and excited all rolled into one. He was actually a joy to be around, and Arturo was delighted that he would be a full-time family member.

  Cara had warned Arturo away from ‘her half of the house’ this morning. He hadn’t even had the energy to laugh at her last night, and just agreed that he would pick her up at the last moment, to escort her down the stairs and out for the wedding. He could only imagine the chaos going on in those rooms today.

  But even though today was all about his sister, the person whose room he was most curious about was Darcy.

  She’d revealed part of herself before they came, and he accepted she might find some moments difficult. But other thoughts were circling in his head. If, five years on, weddings still affected her like this, was she really ready to move on? And if she wasn’t ready—five years after the fact—would she ever be?

  It wasn’t the kind of conversation he wanted to have with her. Because then he would need to let her know that his feelings were developing into something so much stronger than he’d ever predicted. He’d seen her eyes yesterday when she’d taken in the vastness of the property. He didn’t have a single worry that Darcy would be interested in his money, inheritance or family estate. The truth was, she’d looked downright terrified.

  He moved across his room and touched the picture on his desk. It was from years before, him and his father together at a family ball, both in short-sleeved shirts and both laughing with their arms around each other. It hurt him with an ache he didn’t like to acknowledge.

  He brushed his finger across the glass. ‘I’ll do you proud today, Papà,’ he said softly, then paused for a moment. ‘I wish you could have met her. I brought her here, and now I wonder if I did the right thing.’ He took a breath and looked out over the countryside stretching before him.

  What he’d learned last night from his mother, and what he had to do today, had given him an insight into his current life he hadn’t seen before. He had to take that into account today. Particularly when he’d finally answered the person last night who’d been desperate to get hold of him, and that conversation had been littered with innuendo and unspoken threats. He didn’t take kindly to that kind of talk, and his phone was now in his bedside cabinet until this wedding was over.

  The threats had never meant much to him. Since the death of Faye, and of his father, he hadn’t really considered what might happen if someone decided to see a threat through. His mother and Cara would be taken care of. If he wasn’t around any more, apart from his direct family, who would actually care?

  The thought made him shudder. For the first time in five years, he considered someone other than his direct family—Darcy. It was like a little flower bud opening inside his brain. A chance again. A real chance at life. Perhaps the chance of love again? As the petals unfurled, he knew he had so much to consider. Maybe now was the time to reevaluate his future.

  He knew today he had to concentrate on Cara. But once the wedding was over, he would be heading back to Edinburgh with Darcy. That made a warm feeling spread through him. He had to let her know that it was time to move their relationship on. Time to see where things could take them.

  He only hoped that she would agree.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  ROSA BROUGHT BREAKFAST to her room, and helped her fasten the tiny buttons on the back of her dress.

  She turned around to get a good look in the full-length mirror. The lime-green satin dress was stunning, and was certainly something she wouldn’t have picked herself.

  It reached the floor but had a spectacular split, revealing some leg. It had tiny straps and a cowl neckline—similar to the silver dress that Arturo had picked for her. Maybe she should wear that, maybe the lime-green was too daring.

  She held out her arm as Rosa fastened the corsage to her wrist. ‘Maybe I should change? This dress is very fitted. It might be too much for a wedding.’

  ‘Don’t you dare,’ scolded Rosa. ‘You look fantastic, and remember I’ve seen some of the other guests. It’s going to be a multitude of colours down there.’ She looked up and down the length of Darcy. ‘And while your dress is figure-hugging, there’s nothing on show.’ She winked. ‘Just a bit of leg, and who doesn’t like that?’

  Darcy started to laugh. Rosa had been so nice since she’d arrived yesterday. She bit her lip and asked a nervous question. ‘Is Arturo okay this morning? And the rest of the family?’

  Rosa darted a glance at her. ‘Arturo ate three breakfasts this morning. I don’t know if it was nerves, or if he was covering every sitting to see if you would come down.’ She looked at Darcy’s wide eyes and shook her head. ‘He’s fine, as is Cara. In fact, I’ve been out of her range for nearly fifteen minutes. She’ll have a list for me by now.’

  Darcy took a few nervous steps. ‘When should I go down?’

  She could see other guests had arrived and were mixing in the garden. But since she didn’t really know anyone and Arturo would clearly be with his sister, she didn’t want to get in anyone’s way.

  ‘Give it another fifteen minutes,’ advised Rosa, ‘then go on down.’ She disappeared out of the door.

  Darcy moved to stand at the window. She wanted to focus on Arturo, and how he might be feeling today. She didn’t want to think about herself in any way. That just seemed selfish. Today was Cara and Dante’s wedding. They deserved the best day. And she would make sure that nothing she said or did would get in the way of that.

  * * *

  Thirty minutes later, the guests were still waiting. Dante looked handsome in his well-cut suit, his brother next to him. Their feet were starting to shuffle as they kept glancing towards the door of the house as they stood under the pink and white rose arch.

  The man next to her had quickly realised she was English and had spoken to her a few times. He glanced at his watch. ‘My bet was on thirty minutes, so I’m hoping she appears now.’

  Darcy blinked. ‘You bet on how late the bride would be?’

  ‘You didn’t?’ He looked surprised. ‘Of course, you’re Arturo’s new girlfriend. You wouldn’t have known about this.’ He glanced around at the other guests occupying the white linen-backed chairs in the Italian sun. ‘I think around fifty per cent of the guests put a bet on Cara being late.’

  Darcy’s mouth fell open, and he leaned forward and whispered, ‘Remember, we’re mainly family. We know this girl.’

  There was some rustling, and the celebrant clapped their hands, bringing the guests to attention. The music started, and Darcy felt a little bit sick.

  She turned her head and watched as Arturo and Cara walked down the aisle together. Cara’s dress was beautiful, the top Italian lace with a white underlay, but her skin showing across her neckline and down her arms. The skirt was full, and she had a long veil that trailed magnificently behind her.

  Arturo was wearing an immaculate dark suit, the same as Dante and his brother’s. His bow tie and bright white shirt made his skin seem more tanned than usual. He caught her eye, and she saw the hint of a smile at the corners of his lips.

  Then she turned back. It was an unexpected moment. If she’d thought things through last night, she might have pre-planned not to catch this second.

  The second that Dante caught sight of his bride. There it was. The look on his face of pure and utter joy at seeing the woman he loved arrive for their wedding.

  It was like a vice of steel clamping around her heart. Because she’d never had this moment. Her groom hadn’t appeared.

  Her breath caught in her throat as she blinked back some unexpected tears. She forced herself to turn back to look at Cara. The look was mirrored on Cara’s face. She was overjoyed to be walking towards her groom. The love between these two was there for everyone to see.

  The vice started to release on Darcy’s heart, the gut-punch relieving itself from her clenched stomach.

  Damian would never have looked like that at her, and she would never have looked like that at him.

  She’d always known that the breakup had been for the best. But even though she’d told herself that all these years, she hadn’t really faced up to what it meant.

  It meant that she hadn’t been paying attention to her relationship. She’d allowed things to drift on when they weren’t right. She’d allowed herself to plan a wedding with the biggest thought in her head being that she wanted her sister still to be there for her wedding.

  Her legs were momentarily like jelly and she gripped the back of the seat in front of her. The celebrant had started to talk, and the groom had presented the bride with her bouquet—another Italian tradition she hadn’t known about.