like in thirty years’ time. The woman with the gentle eyes and a sweet smile was leaning lightly on a cane. There were tears in her eyes as she embraced first Erin and then Francesco.
‘At last we meet. She is so lovely, Francesco, and that hair … we are so happy about the baby.’
‘I want you both to know,’ Alberto said, clapping his son warmly on the shoulder, ‘that this was not my idea.’ His grimace took in the entire heaving room. ‘If anyone ever thinks about doing this to me.’
‘Do not be tiresome, Alberto,’ recommended Sabina Romanelli. ‘Livia thought it would be nice for Erin to meet the family.’
‘Because she got out of hospital and it would be so restful,’ said Francesco at his most sardonic.
‘I think it’s a lovely idea,’ Erin said.
‘You’re lying through your lovely teeth, but, if that’s the way you want to play it, fine—I’m throwing you to the wolves. I warn you, Erin, not everyone survives the Romanelli initiation ritual. She thinks I’m joking,’ he said to his father.
‘They’ll suck you dry and spit you out,’ the elder Romanelli said straight-faced.
It was easy to see where Francesco got his sense of humour from.
‘Good luck, cara!’ Francesco whispered in her ear the moment before she was whisked away.
It was a good hour later before she saw Francesco again. The smile of welcome on her face faded when she saw his expression.
‘What,’ he demanded, ‘do you think you’re doing?’ ‘Doing?’ Erin said, mystified by his attitude. ‘I’m not doing anything.’
He shook his dark head in disbelief. ‘You really are unbelievable,’ he said, forcibly removing the fretful toddler she was jiggling on one hip from her arms. ‘You had surgery a few days ago and you’re pregnant. Lugging a little monster like this around is not what I’d call lots of rest and relaxation.’
‘He’s not heavy,’ Erin protested.
‘Yes, he is, and he is also,’ Francesco discovered, angling a critical look at the toddler’s face, ‘extremely dirty. I’m taking him back to his mother.’
‘You know, I think I’ve had enough of this, and you,’ he added, glancing at her face, ‘have definitely had enough.’
‘What are you doing, Francesco?’ she asked as he began to bang his hand on the table.
‘I’m getting rid of this lot.’
‘You can’t do that!’ she protested. ‘It would be incredibly rude.’
Actually Francesco was rude and charming in equal parts as he basically told his family they had outstayed their welcome and fortunately nobody seemed particularly offended.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
BY THE time the last of their party-throwers had taken their leave Erin couldn’t help but be glad that Francesco had taken direct action.
She still couldn’t believe that—after all her fears that she would struggle to adapt to a world so far removed from the one she knew, and that his family would think he had married beneath him—in the end they had gathered her to their collective bosom unreservedly. The thing she would always remember about today would be the incredible warmth of her welcome.
Her head was filled with faces and buzzing with names. It was small wonder that she had the beginnings of a headache.
Francesco had not been exaggerating when he’d said he had a large family.
During the party Erin’s thoughts had repeatedly returned to the moments in the garden before they had walked into their surprise party. She had kept thinking about the things he had said and the expression in his eyes. It had made it hard for her to concentrate on what people had been saying to her and being forced to wait to hear what else he had to say had been incredibly frustrating.
So many questions still remained unanswered. She had felt so optimistic, so confident when they had walked through the door. But things had been left hanging in the air and during the frustrating delay doubts had crept in.
Maybe he didn’t even realise yet, but one thing was perfectly plain to Erin; Francesco hadn’t been in love with her when he’d married her. In lust, yes, but not in love.
She had been a diversion. If he had been kissing her he hadn’t been thinking about his brother. Was it possible that he had really fallen in love with her since they had married? Or was she succumbing to that most common of human failings and seeing only what she wanted to? Wasn’t it more likely that his new warmth and tenderness had more to do with the fact she was the mother of his unborn child and he wanted their