The Marchese's Love-Child by Sara Craven Read Free Book Online Page B

wailed suddenly. 'Take him to Italy. I'll never see him again.'

    Horror caught Polly by the throat. She turned on Sandro. 'You can't do that.'

    'And what is there to stop me?' His glance challenged her.

    'It—it's kidnapping,' Polly flung at him. She took a breath. 'Although I suppose that's an everyday occurrence in your world.'

    And it was more common than she wanted to admit in her own, she thought numbly. There'd been numerous headlines in the papers over the past few years where children had been snatched and taken abroad by a parent. They called them 'tug of love' babies...

    She looked with scorn at the other man, who had got quietly to his feet. 'And what are you—another of his tame thugs?'

    His brows rose. 'My name is Alberto Molena, signorina, and I am a lawyer. I act for the marchese in this matter.'

    Polly gave him a scornful glance. 'Don't you mean you're his consigliore’ she queried with distaste.

    He paused, sending Sandro a surprised look. 'May I suggest that you sit down, Signorina Fairfax, and remain calm? It would be better too if the little boy was taken to another room. I think he's becoming frightened.'

    'I have a better suggestion,' Polly flared. 'Why don't you and your dubious client get out of here, and leave us alone?'

    His tone was still quiet, still courteous. 'I'm afraid that isn't possible. You must understand that your child is the first-born son, and thus the heir of the Marchese Valessi, and that he intends to apply through the courts for sole custody of the boy. Although you will be permitted proper access, naturally.'

    He looked at Charlie, who was round-eyed, his knuckles pushed into his mouth. 'But, believe me, it would be better if the little boy was spared any more upset from this discussion. We have a trained nanny waiting to look after him.'

    He walked to the door and called. A pleasant-faced girl in a smart maroon uniform came in and removed Charlie gently but firmly from his grandmother's almost frenzied grasp, talking to him softly as she carried him out of the room.

    'Where's she taking him?' Polly demanded shakily.

    'Into the garden,' the lawyer told her, adding less reassuringly, 'For the time being.'

    She swallowed convulsively, turning to the silent man by the window. 'Sandro.' Her voice was pleading, all pride forgotten. 'Please don't do this. Don't try to take him away from me.'

    'I have already been deprived of the first two years of his life,' he returned implacably. 'There will be no more separation.' His lip curled. 'How remiss of you, cam mia, not to inform me of his existence. Even last night, when we talked so intimately about your living arrangements, you said nothing—gave no hint that you had borne me a child. Did you really think you could keep him hidden forever?'

    She moistened her dry lips. 'How—how did you find out?'

    He shrugged. 'I employed an agency to trace you. They suggested broadening the scope of their enquiries.' His voice was expressionless. 'I received their full report last night after you left. It made fascinating reading.'

    She stared down at the carpet. 'So there was someone watching me when I got back,' she said almost inaudibly.

    'Can you wonder?' Sandro returned contemptuously. 'I have a beautiful son, Paola, and you deliberately barred me from his life. You preferred to struggle alone than ask me for help—or give me the joy of knowing I was a father.' His gaze was cold, level. 'How can such a thing be forgiven?'

    'It was over between us.' Polly lifted her chin. 'What did you expect me to do—beg?'

    'I think,' he said softly, 'that is something you may have to learn for the future.'

    There was a silence. Polly could hear her mother weeping softly.

    'No court in the world,' she said huskily, 'would take a baby away from his mother.'

    'Yet it is his grandmother who has the care of him each day.' His tone was harsh. 'I was watching when you came into the room, and he did not try to go to you. Is he even aware