Read Online Broken Chord by Margaret Moore - Free Book Online Page B

Whatever Guido was, at least he had the charm of a gentleman and exquisite taste. The problem with Guido was his insistent pushing to take over some of Piero’s duties. The way he had he had actually snatched the post from his handon more than one occasion and checked it all, before grudgingly handing it back, still rankled. Something would have to be done about it and soon.
    He ruminated on Ursula’s forthcoming marriage, her fourth. This was a strange liaison, but perhaps no stranger than her affair with the awful Carletto and others like him: her first unfortunate marriage to a neo-Nazi, her second to a spoilt pasta king and her third to a racing driver, who had sadly died in a spectacular crash at Monaco during the trials. She seemed doomed to make unfortunate liaisons.
    Guido had cleverly managed to make himself indispensable to Ursula who had been once again at a loose end and desperately needing a man. She could never seem to get along without one for very long, which was why she had formed so many disastrous relationships. At least now there was no chance of further pregnancies. Three children by three different fathers and one of them probably a cuckoo in the marital nest was more than enough. Why she felt she needed to marry Guido was something no-one could understand. He must be satisfying her on all levels for her to give in and say yes, because that was what it amounted to. It would be interesting to find out exactly what Guido was going to get out of this marriage, on a material level.
    Piero contemplated the changes that might come about with Guido’s change in status, something which Guido had already hinted at. There was no way he was ever relinquishing his control. Apart from anything else, he’d earned it. It was his right and Ursula would never take it away. As indeed she’d be well-advised not to. He’d always put her welfare first and he doubted that Guido would, at least not in quite the same way. He’d have to make things clear before the wedding. There would have to be a discussion, without Guido’s presence. He would pick the time with care, soon.
    Marta was helping Ursula with the preparations for the relatively small wedding reception, just for the family and a few selected friends. The wedding was to be intimate and private, in the local Town Hall which was, fortunately, a fabulous eighteenthcentury Palazzo in the historical centre of the medieval town. It was essential that nothing should happen to upset Ursula on her happy day and this was why he’d decided to go to the police about the letters. If there was a madman out for vengeance because of an old grievance against the German race, then he must be found and stopped. He might decide the wedding was a suitable moment for some kind of revenge for whatever wrongs he attributed to her and her countrymen.
    He listened to the crescendo of voices rising from the garden. Isabella was at it again. She hit a high note with, “Then go and fuck yourself, you bastard!” after which the sound of a car door slamming and the vicious scrunching of the gravel on the drive as it accelerated away, put an end to it. Piero jotted down a note to remind himself to have the gravel raked and replenished again. Impetuous departures tended to make ugly ruts right in front of the house.
    When Piero came downstairs, he found Tebaldo alone with the children.
    “Ah, Piero, could you ask Marta to look after these two for an hour or so? It seems I have them, after all, this morning and I really need to go and run a few errands.”
    “Of course.” He looked at the children. They were pretty, and young enough to have that charming innocence that all children have until it is taken away from them by adults.
    “I wonder what you two would like to do?” he asked, taking their hands and leading them out of the room.”
    “I want a biscuit,” remarked the younger of the two, Camilla.
    “Well, let’s go and see what Marta’s got in the kitchen.” He led them