A Fever In The Blood Read online

  'I haven't,' said Cass quickly, wishing they could dis­pense with the formalities. 'Have—have you seen Roger? Did Mummy tell you what—what's going on?'

  'Presently, presently.' Guido could be so frustrating when he chose. 'You still haven't told me that you have completely recovered. That was a worrying time for all of us, cara. We love you very much, though perhaps we don't always show it.'

  'I know you do, Daddy.' Cass endeavoured to control her aggravation. 'And I'm quite well, thank you. Sophia—Signora Scorcese, that is—was very kind. I—I must write and thank her, after—after…'

  'After the dust has settled, hmm?' suggested her father drily, and Cass flushed again at the unknowing conno­tation.

  'So you have seen Roger,' she prompted, eager to advance the conversation, and after a moment Guido nodded.

  'I've seen him.'

  'Well, what did he say? Does he deny it? Oh, Daddy, you've got to tell me what's going on. I can't bear the suspense any longer.'

  Her father hesitated. Then he said quietly, 'It's true. How could he deny it? The first thing I did was have my lawyers get a copy of the marriage certificate. There was no mistake. Valerie Jordan is Valerie Fielding.'

  'Oh!' Cass breathed a sigh of such relief, she felt as if she had caved in a little inside. 'Oh, I can't believe it!' Then, 'But isn't this going to cause you a lot of embarrassment? Oh—and Mummy's going to be so fu­rious about the scandal!'

  'Never mind about your mother,' remarked Guido flatly. 'She'll get over it. We're leaving for Bermuda in a couple of weeks. By the time we get back, the worst of the publicity will have blown over.'

  Cass quivered. 'But what about Roger?' Her mouth was dry. 'Isn't what he did illegal?'

  'It is.' Guido acknowledged the fact. 'But I suggest you try and forget about Roger, and what might happen to him. He is my concern from now on. You will never see him again.'

  Cass licked her lips. 'He may be—vindictive.'

  'Yes.' Guido's smile was strangely smug. 'But I think I can handle him. I've done it before.'

  'Yes, but…'

  'It's not a problem, cara.' He shook his head. 'Believe me, you need have no further anxieties on that score. My only regret is that I allowed this to happen, and then endorsed it by believing his lies.'

  Cass shook her head. 'I believed him, too.'

  'Yes, well…' Her father heaved a sigh. 'Let us put the existence of Roger Fielding behind us for the mo­ment. You and I, cara, have more important matters to consider.'

  'We do?' Cass frowned, and then she realised what he meant. 'Where I'm going to live, you mean?'

  'Not where you are going to live, no,' retorted Guido, shaking his head. 'Does it not surprise you that I have not contacted you for almost a week? After such an earth-shattering revelation, did you not expect me to be hammering on your door the next day?'

  'Well…' Cass had to be honest. 'I did wonder why you hadn't rung.'

  'Ah.' Guido nodded. 'So, I will tell you why I did not. I could not come to see you, because I was in Italy.'

  'Italy?' Cass's colour receded. 'You went to see Ben?' She thought she could guess why, and her stomach mus­cles clenched.

  'No. I went to see Sophia,' her father contradicted her evenly. 'I thought perhaps it was time we—buried the hammer, as they say here.'

  'Hatchet,' said Cass automatically. And then, 'Roger told you, didn't he?' Her heart was palpitating. 'He told you that Ben and I—that we—' She choked. 'But there's something you don't know—'

  'Gently, cara, gently.' Overcoming her instinctive re­sistance, Guido gathered her into his arms again, and held her close. 'All right, all right. Yes, Roger did make his futile accusations, but they were never more than that. Cara, I've always known that Benvenuto was not my natural offspring. What, do you think your father is a fool? But, believe it or not, I was madly in love with Sophia in those days, and I was prepared to take her, pregnant or otherwise.'

  Cass could only stare at him. 'But—but why—'

  'Why didn't I tell her?' Guido shrugged. 'How could I? She was so proud of her deception. And Ben is my son. In everything but blood.'

  'But when Ben found out—'

  'He didn't tell me. How could he? But I guessed he knew.' Guido paused, and then went on, 'The summer he graduated, with a first in history and economics, he went home to see his mother. The plan, as you know now, was for him to join the company after his holiday was over. But when he came back, everything had changed. He came to see me, and told me he wanted to stay at college. He said he had decided to take a doc­torate in medieval studies instead of opting for com­merce.'

  'Oh, Daddy!' Cass could imagine how her father must have felt.

  'Yes. As you obviously understand, I was furious. But, short of telling him the truth, there was nothing I could do. I was sure Sophia would not have told him, and when I telephoned her at Calvado, it was obvious she was upset by his decision. But someone must have said something—'

  'His grandmother,' murmured Cass unsteadily, and Guido sighed.

  'Ah.' He nodded. 'I should have guessed. She never approved of our marriage.'

  'Why not?'

  'Oh…' Guido shrugged. 'I was not one of them. My father owned land in the valley, but he was never there. He preferred Genoa, and only when I was on holiday from school, or later from university, was I allowed to go and work alongside them.'

  'I see.' Cass nodded. 'And you—fell in love with Sophia.'

  'That's right.' Guido was rueful. 'She was—is still— a beautiful woman. And when Francesco was so tragi­cally killed, I took advantage of her weakness.'

  Cass was trying hard to take this in, but still there were questions to be answered. 'So why did you go and see Sophia?' she breathed.

  'Why do you think?'

  'Roger?' Cass's voice was very low.

  'Roger,' agreed Guido softly. 'But you know, he did us all a favour.'

  'He did?'

  'Of course. He made me see what a fool I had been all these years.' Guido sighed again. 'Do you remember when you used to spend your summers at Calvado?' Cass nodded, not trusting herself to speak, and he con­tinued, 'I always believed you were the key to the so­lution. Ben was fond of you. I knew that. It was because of you he stayed and took his doctorate in London. I suppose I hoped that one day he might confide in you. I even thought how wonderful it would be if you two fell in love.'

  'Daddy!'

  'Oh, I know. He is a few years older than you are, but you always seemed to prefer his company to anyone else's. Your mother was very jealous, I can tell you. And not just because you preferred Ben.'

  Cass was shaking. 'But I thought he was my brother!'

  'Yes, I realise that now.' Guido groaned. 'Sophia told me what happened that summer at Calvado. You would never have become involved with Roger if I had not been so obtuse.'

  Cass moved away from him, needing time to get things into perspective. He was going too fast for her now. Where before her questions had jumped ahead of him, now she was confused by so many conflicting an­swers.

  'So—so,' she stammered at last, 'are you now going to tell everyone that—that Ben is not your son?'

  'No.'

  'No?' Cass almost choked on the word.

  'No.' Guido put his hand beneath her chin and tilted her face to his. 'I shall simply explain, to those who need to know, that Ben is my adopted son. That his father was killed before he was born, and that naturally I have always regarded him as mine.'

  'Oh, Daddy!'

  Guido's face gentled. 'Does that please you?'

  Cass nodded. 'You must know it does.'

  'I don't know anything,' retorted Guido flatly. 'Except some garbled story Fielding was flinging around about you and Ben having a—how did he put it?—a relation­ship.'

  Cass's lips trembled. 'You haven't seen Ben, then?'

  'No.' Guido hesitated. 'I wanted to see you first.' He gave her a wry look. 'But now, I think perhaps I should have done.'

  'No.'
Cass made a negative gesture. 'No, let me tell Ben. Unless his mother's already done so…'

  'She hasn't,' declared Guido firmly. 'Believe me, you may still have some trouble from that quarter. She's not at all convinced that my daughter is good enough for her son!'

  'Oh, Daddy!'

  Cass flung herself into his arms then, laughing and crying and talking all at once. When she'd woken up this morning her state of limbo had seemed the best she could hope for. Now she had much higher aspirations. And a desperate need to put them into practice.

  She hired a car at the airport in Pisa, and drove herself the eighty or so kilometres between there and Florence. The traffic was heavy on the autostrada. It was, after all, one of the peak weekends of the holiday season, and Cass had only got a seat on the plane at all because of her father's influence.

  Florence itself was jammed with cars and buses, full of tourists eager to sample the cultural delights of the city. To Cass, who was eager to reach her destination, the cheerful hoots and honking of horns was simply a frustration, and gave her too much time to worry about what she would do if Ben had gone away.

  It was late afternoon before she turned into the Piazza del Fiore, and parked the borrowed Lancia in front of Ben's apartment building. There was a sign which she thought meant 'No Parking', but she decided to worry about that only if she had to. For the moment, she was more intent on checking out Ben's windows. They were open, but that could be because Mrs Cipriani was doing her cleaning. She had come here so many times before and found him absent that she couldn't believe this time he'd be at home.

  She climbed the stairs too fast, and by the time she reached Ben's landing her head was spinning. That was when she remembered she'd had nothing but drinks all day. She'd refused to eat anything on the plane, and since she'd landed she hadn't thought about food.

  The doorbell seemed to echo in the hall long after she had pressed the button. Was that because the apartment was empty? she wondered anxiously. Wouldn't Ben have come to answer it if he was here?

  She pressed it again, a little ache beginning in her temple at the thought that Ben might have gone to Calvado. Or if not there, some other place; or even out of the country. Dear heaven, she couldn't bear the thought that it might be days before she could reach him. Weeks, even, if he hadn't left a forwarding address. With the university closed, and no idea how to reach any of his colleagues, what could she do?

  When the door abruptly opened, she almost collapsed with relief. But the young woman who was standing facing her was totally unfamiliar, and the sickly sense of desperation returned to clutch her stomach.

  'Si?' The girl, Cass guessed she was about nineteen, surveyed the visitor without enthusiasm. 'Posso aiutarla?'

  Cass was struggling with the devastating realisation that this girl must be some friend of Ben's. For a mo­ment, the girl's words didn't even mean anything to her. She could hardly think in English, let alone in Italian.

  The girl sighed. 'Che cosa desidera?' she exclaimed, clearly growing impatient with Cass's apparent stupidity. 'Capisce?' She frowned. 'Parla ltaliano?'

  'Un po,' murmured Cass at last, finding a suitable answer. 'A little,' and the girl nodded.

  'You are English,' she declared, with a pronounced, if faintly patronising, accent. 'Bene, can I help you? Do you wish to speak with Professore Scorcese?'

  'Professore Scorcese?' echoed Cass faintly, realising she had never heard his academic title used before. And, although she was strongly tempted to get out of here while she still retained a little self-respect, she nodded. 'Yes. Yes, I would like to speak to—to Signor Scorcese. Is—is he at home?'

  'Francesca!'

  The sound of Ben's voice silenced both of them for a moment, and Cass's knees shook inside her dark blue cotton flying suit as his footsteps sounded along the hall. Even now she had a cowardly urge to turn tail and run. But the need to see him again was stronger than her fears, and in spite of the girl's presence she remained where she was.

  Then, when Ben appeared out of the shadows of the hall, her heart almost stopped beating. He looked so pale! All the natural colour seemed to have drained out of his face, and there were dark circles around his eyes and a growth of stubble on his chin.

  'Francesca,' he said again, looking at the girl. 'Cos'e?' Then he saw Cass.

  'Someone for you, Zio Benvenuto,' declared Francesca confidently, clearly unaware of any undercur­rents at that moment. 'E—you did not give me your name, signora— '

  'It's Cass,' said Ben harshly, interrupting her. He was staring at Cass with unbelieving eyes. 'Um…' He raked back his hair with a hand that she saw was rather un­steady. 'Look,' he spoke to the girl beside him in rapid Italian, 'do you mind if we abandon our studies for to­day, Francesca? This—this is an old friend from England, and—we'd like to be alone.'

  'Oh, really—' began Cass, but Ben's look silenced her, and as it did so she remembered what Francesca had called him. Zio! Uncle! She had called Ben Uncle Benvenuto. Not some girlfriend, then, but obviously a relative. Cass could have almost cried with relief.

  'All right.' Francesca didn't look altogether delighted at the interruption, but evidently Ben's word was law. 'I'll just get my books,' she added, darting back down the hall to the living-room, and while she did so Ben invited Cass in.

  'What a surprise,' he said, speaking her language now, trying, Cass could tell, to recover his lost composure. For a few moments there, he had looked at her as if he was hungry for the sight of her. But he had himself in control again, and now his eyes were guarded.

  'Yes, isn't it?' murmured Cass in reply as Francesca passed them on her way to the door.

  'Can I come back again tomorrow?' she asked, her eyes on Cass, frankly curious.

  'I'll ring you,' Ben replied, clearly non-committal.

  Francesca muttered, 'Ciao!' rather sulkily as she let herself out of the door.

  The living-room was so familiar, Cass wanted to fling herself down on to the sofa, and beg Ben to join her. But Francesca's appearance had taken the edge off her confidence, and for the first time she wondered what she would do if Ben had changed his mind about her.

  'My—cousin Victor's daughter,' Ben murmured, by way of an explanation for Francesca's presence. 'She's taking a degree in English Studies. I offered to give her some tuition.'

  Cass nodded. 'I see.'

  Ben nodded, too, almost absently. And then, running a hand over the growth of beard that roughened his jaw-line, he said, 'I'm afraid I wasn't expecting company. I must look grim!' He moved over to his desk and shuffled a pile of papers into order. 'I'll get rid of these, and then I'll go and have a shower. Oh—' He turned. 'Can I offer you a drink?'

  'I've been drinking all day,' murmured Cass, and then, realising how that might sound, she grimaced. 'I mean, tea, coffee, soft drinks and so on. Not the hard stuff. Not any longer.'

  'Good for you.' But Ben's lips twisted a little as he said it. 'I—regrettably—can't say the same. In fact, that's exactly what I need now.'

  'Oh, Ben!' For the first time, Cass let her emotions show in her voice. 'You look awful! What have you been doing to yourself?'

  'I've just told you,' he retorted, straightening from the desk, and running the palm of one hand down the seam of the worn jeans he was wearing, 'I wasn't expecting visitors. If I'd known you were coming…'

  'Shaving isn't going to make much difference,' exclaimed Cass unsteadily. 'Oh, Ben! You have missed me, haven't you?'

  His fists balled. 'Why have you come here, Cass?' he demanded tiredly. 'I thought we'd said all we had to say to one another.'

  Cass linked her fingers together. 'Just—just answer the question, Ben,' she responded. 'Just for me. Please!'

  'Don't be a fool!' he muttered, walking wearily to­wards the door. 'I'm going to take a shower and get a drink, not necessarily in that order. If you can't think of anything more intelligent to say, then I suggest you get out of here before I come back. I'm not really in the mood to be sociable.'
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br />   Cass sighed. 'Is that what you really want?' she asked.

  'Yes. No! Oh, for heaven's sake, Cass, what do you want me to say? Yes. Yes, I have missed you. There, are you satisfied?'

  Cass caught her breath. 'Ben—'

  'What? Do you want more?' He turned at the door, his face grim with misery. 'All right, I'll give you more. It's killing me; does that please you? The idea that you and Fielding might be back together again is tearing me apart. What did you think it would do? Please me?'

  Cass shook her head, her eyes glazed with tears. 'Roger—Roger and I are not getting back together,' she told him, with the carefully enunciated words of a wit­ness. 'I never want to see Roger again.'

  'That makes two of us,' muttered Ben harshly. 'OK.' He threaded his fingers through his hair once again and nodded. 'OK. We'll talk,' he promised. 'But—but not until I've got rid of this.' His hand slid down to his jawline.

  'All right.'

  Blinking back her tears, Cass acknowledged his ac­quiescence, and with a sudden compression of his lips Ben went out of the room. Presently, she heard the sound of the taps running in the bathroom and, unable to stay still even for a minute, she followed him out into the hall. But instead of turning towards the bedroom she turned into the kitchen instead, catching her breath at the pile of dishes lying unwashed in the sink.

  It was so unlike Ben to leave the place in such dis­order that she went out of the kitchen again, and along the passage to his bedroom. The sound of the running water was much stronger in here, and she looked about her for a moment before walking tremulously across to the bathroom door.

  The door was ajar, and the noise of the shower drowned out the sound of her approach. She hesitated just a moment, and then the temptation to be with him overwhelmed her inhibitions. With shaking fingers, she unbuttoned the flying suit and slipped it off. Then she swept off the silk panties, which were all she had been wearing underneath, and stepped into the room.

  The door to the shower cubicle was closed, and Ben had his back to her. It was a comparatively simple ex­ercise to open the door and step inside, but when she moved close to him and slid her arms around his waist from behind, he shuddered uncontrollably.