‘Certo,’she said immediately.
The doctor closed the bedroom door behind him, looking uncertainly at the presence of both Giuseppe and Luca. But Bianca didn’t want to exclude Giuseppe—despite his reassuring words, she knew he would be anxious. And Luca might as well hear too.
‘How is my uncle?’ she asked, knowing her heart rate was up.
Carefully, the doctor explained. The previous evening—including, he said disapprovingly, Matteo indulging in too much wine—had exerted a strain upon his patient that was been inadvisable. It had taken a toll that was cause for concern, but not for acute alarm. Hospitalisation would not be necessary, providing his patient was afforded complete bedrest and absolute peace and quiet.
‘His mind is very agitated, and that is not good—not good at all.’
The doctor was stern as he spoke.
‘You must remember that the drugs your uncle is on have powerful side effects, not all benign. In the circumstances, I have administered a mild sedative and increased the level of his medication to keep him stable. But he must suffer no more anxiety. That is essential. Absolutely essential! You must understand that.’
He paused, his lips pursing.
‘However, despite my urging to him the importance of complete rest, he has insisted that yourself,signorina, and the Visconte…’ he gave a slight nod towards Luca ‘…must attend him now. With great reluctance I have agreed. But…’ he held up a warning hand ‘…I have done so only because he became increasingly anxious until I conceded.’
His stern glance encompassed them both.
‘I cannot emphasise enough that he must not be agitated. He must be agreed with…he must be deferred to. Hemustbe keptcalm! I know I do not need to speak of co-morbidities and the burden his cancer places upon his heart and vital functions, but I do not wish a crisis to develop—’
He broke off, then opened the bedroom door again.
‘I shall stay until he has seen you, and then give one final check before taking my leave.’ He looked at Bianca. ‘If you please…?’ he said, clearly indicating that she should go in.
She did, but heaviness was dragging her every step.
And it was a weight caused not only by fear for uncle. For a cause far, far worse. For what he wanted of her.
Behind her, she heard Luca’s tread at her heels as he followed her in.
* * *
‘You realise that we have no choice.’
Luca’s voice was coming from a long way away.
Bianca didn’t answer. She couldn’t.
There was a stone in her throat. Her lungs. Concrete, hard set, in her stomach. She didn’t look at Luca. She couldn’t do that either. She couldn’t do anything. She was completely numb.
They were in Matteo’s library. Bianca stared blankly at the serried rows of shelving lining the walls. Matteo’s ornate desk was at one end of the room, the cluster of sofas and armchairs where he liked to sit nearby. Her hand was closed over the back of one of the chairs as if for support. Support she needed.
‘I won’t do it.’
Her words were terse, her mouth set.
She heard Luca give a rasp from where he stood by the fireplace, one arm pressed on the mantel. Did he need support too? she thought sourly, forcing her gaze to go to him. His expression was grim—but then so was hers.
‘We don’t have a choice,’ he repeated, his voice as grim as his expression.
‘I said no.’ Something flashed in her eyes like black fire. ‘I said no last night and I say no now. I will say no while there is breath in my body—’
‘And when there is no breath in Matteo’s body?’
He cut across her—brutal and ruthless. She flinched, but only inwardly. She hardened again. Luca was good at being brutal and ruthless. She should know.
He told me—brutally and ruthlessly—that I wasn’t good enough for the likes of him.