He smiled back. ‘And I will enjoy seeing you happy at work.’
‘Have you sold any of your paintings?’ Lucia asked with a lofty air, clearly peeved by her grandfather’s indulgence towards the new grand-daughter and wanting to downgrade the talent being indulged.
‘Yes. But not for very much,’ Jenny answered, quite happy to downplay herself since it was the truth.
A condescending little smile played across Lucia’s mouth. ‘I know one of the top gallery owners in Rome. If I asked him, he’d be happy to give you an opinion of your work.’
Jenny shook her head. ‘Thank you, but I’m not up to that standard.’
‘Oh!’ It was almost a sneer.
‘Bella is planning to get some formal training next year,’ Marco said, a slight reproof in his voice. ‘It’s time you thought of putting some structure in your life, Lucia, furthering your education so you can pursue a more rewarding occupation than attending parties.’
‘They are fund-raisers for charities,’ she quickly justified.
‘Charities are better served by work,’ came the terse reply.
Lucia gestured a pretty appeal. ‘What would you have me do, Nonno? Just tell me…’
‘Find some drive within yourself that gives you satisfaction,’ he answered wearily. ‘I can’t tell you what it is.’
‘But I’m absolutely satisfied with my life,’ she blithely argued.
‘Then you are cheaply satisfied, my dear, and you’ll end up like your mother, being exploited by others.’
‘No one will ever exploit me,’ she retorted in gritty anger. ‘I’ve seen what happens with my mother and I’ve learnt from it.’
‘Sophia has nothing to fall back on, nothing to fill the emptiness when it comes,’ he said sadly. ‘You should find something for yourself, something that can always give you a sense of personal achievement, Lucia. That’s what I’m telling you. This will never be a problem for Dante. I doubt it will ever be a problem for Bella. But you risk losing yourself in meaningless pursuits unless you find a more solid direction for your life.’
The long speech drained him. He sucked in breath and gestured to Dante. ‘Take me to my suite. Must rest.’
Lucia leapt to her feet. ‘I can help you, Nonno.’
He waved her down. ‘Dante.’
There was no arguing with that firm edict.
His caregiver had brought him to dinner in a wheelchair, evidence that he hadn’t felt well enough to walk. Not well enough to eat much, either. He’d been served only small portions of the pasta entrée and the main veal dish, most of which had been pushed around his plate. As Dante wheeled him away from the table, it really shot home to Jenny that time was running out for Marco Rossini. He was dying, perhaps faster than the doctors had predicted.
Be kind to him…
She took Dante’s request to heart at that moment, silently vowing to give his grandfather whatever pleasure she could. Tomorrow she would try her best to capture the essence of Dante in a portrait.
No sooner had the two men left the room than a maid came in, carrying the sweets course—small balls of different flavoured sorbets, easy for Marco to eat, Jenny thought, except he wasn’t here anymore. The maid hesitated at the absence of half the dinner party.
‘Serve us and take the rest back,’ Lucia commanded snippishly, still put out at having her help rejected.
Jenny waited until the maid had departed, then attempted to reduce Lucia’s smouldering annoyance. ‘Dante told me he’d been with his grandfather since he was six. It’s only natural…’
‘Oh, shut up!’ The dark eyes blazed absolute fury. ‘You might have won over Dante and Nonno with your smarmy, agree-with-everything act, but I know what you’re after.’
‘I’m not after anything,’ Jenny stated emphatically, feeling her own temperature starting to rise.
‘A clever card to play,’ Lucia jeered. ‘It worked on my mother every time—lovers who didn’t go after her for the money, except they took her big-time once she fell for it. It’s quite marvellous how you didn’t want anything to do with us, yet here you are, feeding Nonno a guilt-trip about you so he’ll bend over backwards to give you everything he can.’
Jenny took a deep breath, telling herself to stay calm. ‘I’m sorry you’ve learnt to be so cynical about people, Lucia,’ she said reasonably, ‘but you’re wrong about me. I…’
‘I don’t have any art materials with me,’ she mimicked mockingly. ‘It was a deadset certainty that Nonno would supply you with the best range of stuff that can be bought. Not a bad start, Bella.’
The acid sarcasm bit. ‘I won’t keep it. It’s just for here. I’ll leave it all behind when I go home.’
Lucia’s eyes lit with malevolent triumph. ‘So the art thing is an act, too. No wonder you didn’t want an expert opinion on your work.’
‘No, it’s not an act,’ Jenny retorted heatedly. ‘I have my own stuff at home. I don’t need to take anything from your grandfather. And I won’t!’
‘Only the inheritance that would have gone to your papa. Don’t tell me that’s not on your mind.’
‘It’s not. But even if it were, why should it matter to you? What will you lose by it? Aren’t there enough Rossini billions to go around for you? How much do you need, Lucia?’
‘It’s not the damned money!’ She slammed her hands down on the table and stood up, leaning forward to spit vicious words at Jenny. ‘You arrive here, thick as thieves with Dante, and Nonno immediately takes to you, even throws you in my face as an example of how I should lead my life. As if he’s ever cared about my life!’
‘He’s just shown you he cares,’ Jenny pointed out quietly, realising Lucia was fuming with jealousy.
‘He’s never done anything for me!’ That was fired straight back at her. Her hands sliced the air in exasperated fury. ‘It’s always been Dante, Dante, Dante. His precious grandson got all his attention while I was dragged around the world by my mother, different minders, different schools, whatever suited her convenience.’
Her hands slammed down on the table again, eyes burning with hatred. ‘Do you know how many times I wished I was an orphan so Nonno would take me in and give me what he gave Dante? And now he’s found another orphaned grandchild to shower his attention on.’