The Dutiful Wife. PENNY JORDANЧитать онлайн книгу.
I have a duty to Aldo and to the country—to do what is right for them. It was thanks to Ivan Petranovachov’s bad advice that Aldo invested so heavily and unwisely in ventures that led to him losing a great deal of money. I know that I helped him out by clearing his personal debts, but the country itself is still heavily burdened with loans that Aldo took out, intending to use the money for the benefit of his people. Unfortunately most of that money ended up in schemes that benefited those who proposed them—many of them business associates of Natasha’s father.’
Giselle nodded. None of this was new to her. She was well aware of how angry Saul had been when Natasha had announced so smugly just after Christmas, when they had visited them, that she had insisted on Aldo ignoring Saul’s advice and turning to her own father instead. Aldo, sweet-natured though he had been, had not had a very good head for business.
‘What I plan to do first of all is speak to Natasha’s father’s Russian partners and business associates and find out exactly what the situation is. Then I’ll set about selling off the assets and using that money to clear Arezzio’s outstanding debts brought about by Aldo’s ill-advised investment of the country’s money in Ivan Petranovachov’s business enterprises. Anything that is left I intend to give to charity. Not our own charity. I don’t want that tainted by money wrung out of businesses that rely on cheap enforced labour—which is what I suspect many of Ivan Petranovachov’s businesses do. I shall speak to someone in authority at the Russian Embassy and ask them to recommend suitable recipients for the money.’
‘I think that’s an excellent idea,’ Giselle approved. ‘When will we need to leave for Russia?’
Saul shook his head. ‘I don’t want you to come with me, Giselle.’
She tried to hide how much his statement upset her, but it was impossible for her to conceal her feelings. ‘We always try to travel together, and especially on an occasion like this, I want to be with you.’
To give him her support. Saul knew that was what she meant.
‘I know,’ he agreed, ‘and believe me there is nothing I want more than to have you with me, supporting me.’ He gave her a tender smile. ‘We work so well together. It’s thanks to you that we founded our orphanage charity, and that, as you know, has done so much to help me lay the anger and negativity I felt towards my mother to rest. But I doubt I’ll be well received by some of Ivan Petranovachov’s business colleagues. I don’t want you being subjected to any unpleasantness—or danger.’
Giselle’s heart thudded against her breastbone. ‘And I don’t want you to be in danger.’
‘I shall be very careful,’ he assured her. ‘But it will be easier for me to do what has to be done if I don’t have to worry about your safety. I won’t be gone long. Three or four days at the most.’
Giselle exhaled unhappily. What Saul was saying made sense, but they’d only just spent some time apart. However, she didn’t want to add to the burdens that Saul was already carrying at such a tragic and unhappy time by making a fuss and having him worry about her, as well as dealing with the complications caused by Aldo’s death.
‘I understand,’ she told him, unable to resist adding ruefully, despite her good intentions, ‘I just hate us being apart so much. You’ll have to blame yourself for that, for making me so happy.’
Saul smiled down at her. ‘That’s a two-way street, you know. You make me happier than I ever imagined I could be, and that only makes me feel even more guilty about Aldo. We both know that his marriage can’t have brought him anything like the happiness we share. There was never any real emotional commitment or closeness between him and Natasha.’
‘He loved Natasha but I don’t think she loved him in the same way.’
‘Our relationship is built on mutual honesty and trust. I know you would never conceal anything from me. I doubt very much that Aldo could ever have said that about Natasha.’
Giselle rested her head on Saul’s shoulder, her heart thumping with the guilt that thudded through her. She had kept something concealed from Saul. But it was nothing he needed to know, nothing that affected her love for him. In fact, if anything, what she hadn’t told him only made her love for him stronger and deeper, because their shared decision not to have children meant that what she hadn’t told him need not matter.
‘I love you so much,’ she told him now. ‘Our life together is everything I hoped it would be and more.’
‘I agree. You are the best, Giselle. You bring out the best in me. You are my love and my life.’ Saul drew her closer and kissed her, tenderly at first and then more hungrily. Life was so precious, and so was love, and the need to drive away the darkness of Aldo’s death and find comfort and solace in the act of love surged through him.
Giselle responded immediately, returning his kiss with her own desire. Sometimes actions and emotions did not need words or explanation.
Saul left for Russia the next day, after an early morning appointment at the Russian Embassy to discuss his plans and get approval for them. He had reassured himself that Giselle, who had woken in the night feeling unwell—the result of their rushed flight back to the UK and the shock of the assassination, they both agreed—was back to her normal self, even if her stomach did still feel rather delicate.
Their own affairs would have to be put on hold for now, Giselle knew. There would be Aldo’s funeral to arrange—a state funeral, of course, given his position. Natasha was to be buried with him, but the Russian Embassy had undertaken to arrange her father’s funeral.
Giselle decided to spend the time whilst Saul was away working on her plans for the island Saul had bought, the acquisition of which had originally brought them together. Saul had given the island to her as a surprise wedding gift, and they had decided that instead of building a luxurious hotel complex on it, as had been Saul’s original plan, the island would become home to a holiday complex for orphaned and deprived children. Giselle was in negotiations with various theme parks with a view to creating something very special indeed for those children.
Just one of the things that had deepened her love for Saul was the fact that he understood her need for their charitable work to be focused on children because of the death of her baby brother. She knew, of course, that nothing could bring her brother back to life, just as nothing could ever completely take away the guilt that she suffered, but she still felt driven to do something to help children whose lives she could do something to save.
Because of her baby brother…and because of the children she could never have?
Giselle pushed away the plans on which she had been working in the light-filled studio—Saul had turned the house over to her after their marriage, for her to reorganise as she wished, and the large double office and workspace she had created out of the original darkly formal and masculine library had delighted him as much as it did her.
The children she could never have for their own sake, for their safety when they were small and vulnerable, and for their ability to live their lives without the fear that had stalked her life once they were adult.
Had stalked hers? Was she sure that that fear was truly in the past? Of course she was. Saul had given her his love and his assurance that he did not want children, and her husband was above all else a man of his word. A man she could trust.
Giselle stood up, blinking away the sudden rush of tears that clouded her vision. Why was she crying when she had so much? When she had Saul’s love? When it was in part their shared determination not to have children that had bonded them together? Did she really need to ask herself that? Every time they visited the children supported by their charity, when she spoke to or held one of them, it made her ache to hold Saul’s child, but that could and must never be.
Her mobile rang. She looked at it, smiling when she saw that her caller was Saul.
‘It’s just a quick call,’ he told her. ‘Just to make sure you’re all right.’
‘I’m fine—what