Widow - Anne Stuart [99]
“Stuff it,” Maguire growled.
“So what’s going on? And what is that god-awful smell?”
“You don’t want to know,” the two of them said in unison.
“Let’s get the hell out of here,” Maguire added. “We can talk later….”
It was too late. Lauretta appeared behind Olivia, a stoic expression on her plain face.
“Lauretta!” Olivia greeted her gladly. “Just the person I was looking for. We need help getting these two idiots back to the villa. Don’t ask me what they’re doing up here—some kind of kinky love play, I suppose. Charlie, let Lauretta take your arm and we’ll get you out of this nasty little pit.”
Charlie didn’t move. Olivia stared at her. “I’m not in the mood for this, daughter dearest. I come charging up here to rescue you and find you don’t need rescuing at all. Get off your butt and we’ll go back to the villa and Lauretta can fix us something nice to eat.”
“I don’t think so,” Charlie said.
Olivia turned back, slowly, to stare at Lauretta. And at the gun in Lauretta’s capable hand.
23
She had to admire her mother. Olivia simply blinked, her calm unshaken. “Well,” she said. “And would you like to explain the reason for this, Lauretta?” she demanded sternly. “Give me that gun.” She held out her hand peremptorily.
Oddly enough, her commanding tones almost worked. Lauretta looked confused for a moment, and she started to hand her the gun. And then she stiffened. “I’m sorry, Madonna,” she said.
“I am not pleased,” Olivia said in icy tones. “Not pleased at all. Why do you want to hurt my daughter?”
“You don’t understand, Contessa,” Lauretta said, using her mother’s one-time title. “I have my own family to protect. I made a solemn vow to the master. I promised I would protect his widow, see that she’s taken care of. I have no choice but to do what she asks.”
“Who the hell are you talking about?” Olivia demanded. “You’re holding a gun on his widow.”
“No, Mama. He was married to Antonella all this time. Never to me,” Charlie said.
“That son of a bitch,” Olivia said bitterly.
“My sentiments exactly,” Charlie agreed.
“On top of that, Antonella happens to be Lauretta’s mother,” Maguire broke in. “But Pompasse wasn’t her father, thank God.”
“Why thank God?” Charlie questioned, momentarily distracted.
“This whole scene is sick enough, but I’m afraid incest might be just a bit over the top,” Maguire said.
“Enough!” Lauretta said in a firm voice that sounded like Madame Antonella’s when she was being dictatorial. Strange, but now that Charlie knew the facts she couldn’t believe she hadn’t noticed the resemblance before. “I was hoping I could make it easier for you, Charlie,” Lauretta added plaintively. “I helped you leave five years ago, I tried to get you to go this time, but you wouldn’t listen. My mother is determined, and I couldn’t change her mind. I thought I could at least make it quick for you.” She gestured with the gun.
“Kind of you,” Maguire drawled, “but I think we’d rather take our chances with the old lady.”
“You don’t know what you’re dealing with,” Lauretta murmured. “She killed Pompasse, you know. She found out he was going to divorce her, put her in a home, so he could come after Charlie again. He thought Charlie suspected that they’d never been properly married and that’s why she left him. He could never believe that anyone would really leave him.”
“Other women left him,” Charlie said. “There were models, mistresses who just disappeared…”
“No, they didn’t. Even my own daughter didn’t leave him,” Lauretta said sadly.
“Your own daughter?” Charlie echoed.
“They’re all here. Madame Antonella brought them here. Even my poor baby Luisa.” Her voice broke. “They’re all in the back of this tomb. As you will be. It grieves me, but there’s nothing I can do.”
“Nothing you can do?” Olivia repeated in horror. “She killed your daughter and you’re helping her?”
“She’s my mother,” Lauretta said simply. “And I promised Pompasse I would always watch over her and keep her safe. Especially when we knew what she