Saving Grace

By Susannah O'Neill

Black market dealings, a violent ex-lover and a haunting past love; this is Grace's life as she is spun into a web of love, lies and betrayal.

A novel of trust, friendship, love and betrayal. Grace returns home after years living abroad and the first face she sees throws her emotions into turmoil. How could she have forgotten Charlie, her very first love? The presence of the estranged Eddie, Charlie’s twin brother, painfully reminds her of the tragic past they share but he seems as reluctant to talk about it as Grace does. Her mind is somewhat preoccupied with her new life, however...and her new boss, who leads her on a thrilling journey through the world of art. That is until the violent ex-lover she was trying to escape re-enters her life, bringing with him a dark underworld of treachery and heartache. This envelops everyone she cares for, drawing them into a complex web of mystery, menace and romance.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Satin Romance
• Release date: Dec 6, 2016
• ISBN: 9781680463972

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Saving Grace

A Novel

by Susannah O’Neill

Published by

Satin Romance

An Imprint of Melange Books, LLC

White Bear Lake, MN 55110

www.satinromance.com

Saving Grace, Copyright 2016 Susannah O’Neill

ISBN: 978-1-68046-397-2

Names, characters, and incidents depicted in this book are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental and beyond the intent of the author or the publisher. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.

Published in the United States of America.

Cover Design by Caroline Andrus

Dedicated to Judy and Arthur, with eternal love

Table of Contents

Saving Grace

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

About the Author

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SAVING GRACE

by Susannah O’Neill

A novel of trust, friendship, love and betrayal. Grace returns home after years living abroad and the first face she sees throws her emotions into turmoil. How could she have forgotten Charlie, her very first love? The presence of the estranged Eddie, Charlie’s twin brother, painfully reminds her of the tragic past they share but he seems as reluctant to talk about it as Grace does. Her mind is somewhat preoccupied with her new life, however...and her new boss, who leads her on a thrilling journey through the world of art. That is until the violent ex-lover she was trying to escape re-enters her life, bringing with him a dark underworld of treachery and heartache. This envelops everyone she cares for, drawing them into a complex web of mystery, menace and romance.

Chapter One

Eddie Hawes. Now that was a name she hadn’t thought of for a long time, a face she hadn’t seen in nearly fifteen years, but there he was, in the very flesh, mere yards away. Grace found her heart was beating particularly fast all of a sudden, whether from the foamy cappuccino she had been sipping or this blast from the past she wasn’t quite sure, but she guessed probably the latter.

So, that’s what Charlie would look like now, she thought, studying that striking face, watching those intense eyes and finding she wasn’t especially surprised to discover how handsome he had become. Then, just for a fraction of a second as he turned his head she saw it, the long jagged scar down his right cheek, and a cold shiver ran right through her.

He finished rummaging in the boot of his car and made to turn toward her. Instinctively she quickly raised her newspaper to eye level, shielding herself from his gaze and hoping against hope he wouldn’t enter the cafe.

He didn’t. A few seconds later she heard the engine roar into life and peeped over the paper to see him drive away.

Eddie Hawes. There had been a time when Grace, Eddie, and Charlie had been completely inseparable. They were nicknamed The Three Kings, even though Grace wasn’t exactly a kingly name, but kids don’t care about such details. They’d ruled the school, and she had felt immortal, flanked by the two coolest boys in town...until that summer when everything had gone wrong.

Eddie Hawes. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to talk to him again, see what the grown-up Eddie was like; it was just she didn’t want to do it yet.

She had only just moved back to town five minutes ago and had spent today going through a tough interview for a job she thought she already had.

So. Tell all. Alice broke into her shell-shocked senses, as she re-emerged from the toilets and squeezed next to her at the window seat.

What do you mean? Grace started in bewilderment. Had she seen Eddie too?

What do you mean, what do I mean? The interview? The Lord of the Manor? Hunky Anthony Du Luca?

Grace raised a cheeky eyebrow at her friend. He’s not a lord, she said.

"Ah, but he is hunky, huh?" Alice grinned nudging Grace in the ribs.

He seems like a very nice man, she replied evasively, and besides, you shouldn’t talk like that about my new boss.

Alice screamed in delight causing everyone else in the cafe to glance in their direction, then hugging Grace she extended her congratulations.

Well done, old girl! But who could resist such a hottie anyway! Bet he didn’t even look at your CV!

I take offense at that comment. Grace smiled, her face glowing with pride. Although I should have bloody got it, the letter I received in Salerno implied I already had!

Well, he has a reputation for being a bit of a stickler.

Not half, he made me jump through hoops, testing me on the history of the place and asking me about the Duomo.

Du-what-oh?

The cathedral where I was working in Salerno.

Oh yeah, okay, sorry...so his Italian’s good?

Perfect. He’d been living there until three years ago, when he moved back into the family home here when his sister married and moved out. But he only opens the house Monday to Thursday, while he’s out of town, then he comes back Friday, Saturday, Sunday, and so it’s closed to the public then.

So you’ll do your tours there Monday to Thursday, then work your second job at the castle Fridays?

Well, Fridays and then some! They don’t have loads of events there, but when they do they do them big.

Yeah, I remember going to one of their balls a few years ago, you know, when I was seeing that Henry...

Oh, my God, I remember Henry, Grace interrupted, grimacing, he was such a ponce! She laughed.

Yeah, yeah. He was okay, Alice countered, before her face betrayed the memories flooding back. Okay, she conceded, laughing too. He was a bit annoying.

"He was years ago. I remember meeting him when I was over for a visit whilst in Rome."

Yeah, guess it was awhile...anyway, he took me to the ball...actually I think that’s where I broke up with him... She pondered, her brow crinkling into a frown.

Heartbreaker!

Anyway, it was a good ball—they know how to do it right.

Yep, I’ve been through the portfolio and it’s quite impressive.

What’s first on the agenda?

"A Midsummer Night’s Dream...should be quite easy. They have plays there quite often so the contacts are all in place for sets, seating, canopies, that sort of thing, plus they work with a good local dramatic group who love the venue."

So you’re some sort of liaison worker?

Yeah, some sort. It’s such a small team I think everyone does a bit of everything. Anyway, I’ll find out next week, my first week of work back home. Will be strange, but I’m glad I’m working in two different places. Should keep things more interesting.

It’s so great to have you back, I thought at one point you’d end up staying out there, especially when you got together with Nico.

Yeah, well, look how well that turned out. Nope, no more foreign flights of fancy for me. I’ve had enough of Italian men to last me a lifetime.

Shame...Anthony Du Luca will be disappointed!

Ooh, you minx, you!

So seriously, tell me more about the interview.

As any local would testify, the mansion was beautiful, set just a few miles out of town, facing east so the views spread right out across the countryside. There was the obligatory gravel driveway, which wound up from the road for about a mile until you turned a bend and suddenly caught your first glimpse of the house. That first view is staggering. The white brickwork sparkles in the sunlight momentarily blinding you, with its glittering eyes watching all visitors approach. There are fifty-three windows on the front of the house alone. The tall towers rise high above you, brushing the clouds as they waft past peeking at this mighty sight themselves. The doorway is a colossal entrance, with a thick oak door and behind it a sweeping hallway leading to a grand staircase enticing you in, like a child into a sweet shop. For Grace, it was like a fairy tale palace, with wings and jewels and even a handsome prince!

Grace had done a history degree after her A-Levels and her first job had been as a tour guide in the ancient library where she had spent most of her university years. She had loved the job, taking people around all the areas usually off limits, pointing out different pieces of art, little architectural nuances, interesting nooks and crannies, and explaining the secrets and history of them all. She was a natural and was soon head-hunted by a firm in London who wanted someone to take foreign clients around the sites and give them more than the average tour guide would. She excelled, her research was thorough and inventive, and the crowds loved her fascinating view of the capital and the humour she injected into each tidbit of information. She had a knack, no matter how many times she had told the same story, of making each individual feel as if they were the first and only person she had ever told it to. There was an intimacy about her, even with strangers, which people found comforting and captivating at the same time, making her a very popular guide.

Inevitably she was tempted away by one of the said foreign clients who saw that her skills would go a long way in his native Italy. Fortunately, she had always been good at languages and after a crash course and a month travelling around, she was fluent.

She worked in Rome, Florence, Turin, and finally Salerno, where she’d met Nico.

When the relationship turned sour, she felt suddenly homesick, the first time in all her years abroad. She yearned to be closer to home, to family, to friends, and she could not believe her luck when she saw the Du Luca Old Hall in her hometown was advertising for a tour guide. The money was far from fantastic but she had saved quite a lot while she was away and it was the sort of job she knew she would love to do. Better to be poor and happy than to be rich and miserable. So, she had applied and had even done a telephone interview with the housekeeper, after which she had received a letter saying she had been successful and could start work in a month’s time. However, when she got back to England another letter had been waiting for her, asking for this meeting with Mr. Du Luca.

She presumed it would be a fairly routine chat to iron out any queries on both sides, but when she rang to arrange the meeting, the housekeeper implied it was an interview.

But the letter I received stated I had been successful and could start in a month, she had argued.

Mr. Du Luca is not in the business of employing people he has never met, Miss Nightingale, was the tart reply.

Then why was I sent such a letter? was of course on the tip of her tongue, but she so wanted the job and had resigned from Salerno anyway now that she was loath to appear uncooperative, especially to such a battle-axe.

Of course, I understand. I would also welcome the opportunity to make the acquaintance of my employer, she had gushed, impressing even herself with her cool.

Would you indeed, was the surprising response. Nine o’clock sharp on Friday morning then, Miss Nightingale, and the conversation was over.

~ * ~

Fortunately, living in Italy had provided her with a divine wardrobe of which she was immensely proud, so there was no shortage of work clothes she could choose from for the meeting. A grey tailored pencil skirt and matching jacket, set off by a cream blouse and silvery scarf was finally the chosen outfit and certainly seemed to meet with approval under Mr. Du Luca’s scrutiny.

He was every bit the hunk Alice said he was. His carefully styled dark hair was flecked with grey, as was the tidy stubble he wore along his jawbone, giving him a distinguished look, and he had a maturity, a confidence, which was an attractive quality. There was something debonair about him, probably helped by the expensive Italian suit, but he held himself well and was charming, mild-mannered, polite. He put Grace at ease straightaway.

Anthony, call me Anthony, please, he had said, without a hint of an Italian accent.

Grace, said Grace, shaking his proffered hand.

His intelligent gaze held her eyes slightly longer than it should have and when he did look away she felt strangely exposed, as if he’d seen something in her that she was unaware she was keeping hidden.

They had sat with tea in the drawing room, overlooking the beautiful lake that stretched down beside a lusciously green lawn, while they went through her previous employment experience. He seemed less interested in her work at the Colosseum, asking more questions about her time working at the Acquario Romano.

I would have thought that was of more interest to architects than historians, he mused.

My degree covered a module in architecture, and as you can see on my CV, I went on to do a separate qualification on the subject. Much of the work I have done encompasses a great deal of information about how the places were built, by whom, what designs they used, and why. The Acquario Romano has many interesting sea designs, and the central dome was built to provide adequate light to study them. It was an interesting fact of the 1800s that...

I have been, he abruptly stated, cutting her off. It is just a shame I missed your guidance. She looked at him unsure whether he was being sarcastic or not, but could not figure him out.

And your last post was at the Salerno Duomo...tell me about that.

It was built on the foundations of a pre-existing church, which in turn was cited on the ruins of an old Roman temple. Begun in 1076, many architects have remodeled it over the years, but it was restored back to its original appearance in the 1930s. One designer...

Enough architecture... he interrupted again and she raised her eyebrows questioningly, but getting no further instruction she tried again.

It is remembered as a symbol of the Italian Renaissance, housing the tomb of Pope Gregory VII, who initiated the...

How did it make you feel? His voice was now soft, the change and tone being quite disarming.

The tomb?

The Duomo. The cathedral.

It made me feel... She hesitated, unsure what he wanted; unsure if she wanted to talk to a stranger, a possible boss, like this. It seemed rather a bizarre question, not the usual what did your role involve she had been expecting.

In awe, she decided on. Like all cathedrals, it is a gift, a piece of genius, a work of mastery. She looked at him and felt colour rushing to her cheeks as the intense look in his eyes seemed to pierce right through her. He shifted in his seat, leaning closer to her, his voice barely a whisper.

Go on...

I guess I... I feel, felt, humbled... He was very disconcerting. His eyes were such a black-brown, staring unwaveringly into hers, and a strand of his pristine dark hair had fallen over his brow.

Humbled.

Yes, I mean... Thankfully the door opened at that moment and the austere housekeeper from the phone came in to clear the tea tray.

Shall we have a stroll in the garden? He sat back and his voice returned to a normal volume, and Grace was left feeling a little bit shaky. What a strange man he was, and what an odd effect he had on her. It was hard to decide whether she liked him or not.

They rose and made their way to the aptly named Italian Gardens where he went on to quiz her about his own house. As she talked, his nods and facial expressions seemed to imply that he was impressed with her knowledge, and she was as equally relieved that outside he kept everything more professional. There was a strictness about him as he kept her answers clipped and to the point, but he also exuded an ease, a charm that made her ignore his interruptions and only notice his praise.

Ah, so you know my great grandfather had a penchant for the Chinese.

Hence the Oriental Gardens situated over the other side of the lake, she replied.

What else do you know?

He had a mistress, Chan-juan, who lived here in the house for a while, for whom he had the gardens built.

Chan-juan—did you know her name means graceful? Fleetingly there was that look again.

No, I didn’t. I knew it was linked to the moon, but...

You are full of intrigue, Grace Nightingale, he said, emphasizing the Grace of her own name and giving her a loaded smile that she couldn’t interpret.

By the time he saw her to the door she felt quite drained, partly from answering all the questions he fired at her and from trying to interpret his responses.

Well, I am satisfied that you will be an asset to this establishment, Grace Nightingale. Are you able to start on Monday?

Thank you, yes. I’d be honoured, was the reply she provided, instead of the whoop of joy she felt at having passed his test.

Well, till then. I look forward to it. And this time when she took his hand to shake, he turned it over and brought it up to his lips instead. He kissed it, keeping his eyes on hers the entire time, which was only a few seconds, but to Grace it felt uncomfortably long.

Good-bye. She was consciously aware of retaining her poise as she walked to her car, sensing his eyes were still watching, even though she had heard the door close behind her. Fifty-three windows and he could be behind any one of them. She desperately wanted to turn around and check, but she forced herself not to, only allowing herself a glance in the mirror of her car as she drove down the gravel drive. The sun glittered on the windows, those eyes gleaming like jewels and keeping whatever lay behind them a secret from her. She turned the corner and the house was gone.

~ * ~

So, do you fancy him then or what? was all Alice had to say on the matter.

No, I do not! Grace was too quick to answer and received a raised eyebrow in return. "Okay, I’ll admit he is good-looking and possesses a certain...charisma, but he’s also a bit weird and intense...and he’s my boss!"

Doesn’t stop most people, the boss bit, not the weird!

Perhaps I’ll introduce you, my dear.

Rather! If only I hadn’t gotten married...speaking of which I told him I’d be back by now to take his mum to bingo! Drat! You still coming over for dinner on Sunday? Alice checked, grabbing her coat and preparing to leave.

Course, I’m looking forward to it.

Great, we’ll celebrate your good news then! And with a kiss she was gone.

Fancy Anthony Du Luca indeed. Her heart felt emotionally incapable of fancying anyone at the moment—ever since Nico.

What a mistake he had been. If only one had a crystal ball, she mused as she finished the dregs of her coffee and made to go. Certainly, she never would have gotten mixed up with him. Would she have even gone to Italy? And then her thoughts returned to Eddie Hawes, and sighing she knew exactly what she would have done if she had possessed a crystal ball back then.

Chapter Two

She remembered. It was her day off and Grace was taking a stroll along the Lungomare Trieste promenade in Salerno. It was a beautiful morning and the sun was glistening off the impossibly blue, clear water, making it appear like an ocean of diamonds. She liked to walk along here, a perfect combination of the sea with the mountains stretching behind and the delightful avenue of palm trees swaying in the breeze. She would often take a newspaper and sit enjoying the sun, watching people fiddle with their bobbing boats, children playing games, adults taking a stroll with a dog, a friend, a lover. The lovers were always the most interesting to watch, the ones with the most going on behind their eyes, the laughter, the shared intimacies, even the arguments. There was always a bond between lovers stronger than anything else, of times shared and hearts laid bare.

Signora. Someone was running behind her, calling to her. She turned and saw a striking young man with a wide grin approaching her.

Signora, he repeated. But here you are again. I am always seeing you here, every time. Then he laughed such a hearty, contagious laugh that Grace found herself smiling at this stranger.

I’m sorry, I don’t know who you are. She spoke in Italian and this made him laugh again.

Oh, but what a voice, the voice of an angel!

I think you might have mixed me up with someone else. This time she tried English, as he seemed happy to use it.

Don’t breaka my heart so soon, ah! he cried, making a mock show of clutching his chest and falling to his knees. Grace found it impossible not to laugh, and with this encouragement he grabbed her hand and kissed it.

You are a vision, and I said to myself, if she is here again today it is a sign, and here you are!

A sign of what? Grace couldn’t resist asking.

That you should go out with me, that we should have dinner together, tonight!

Oh, I think I’m busy tonight, she replied hastily, retrieving her hand and starting to feel uneasy.

But the signs are never wrong. You cannot be busy tonight, he exclaimed, getting back to his feet, fearing she would turn away.

How did you know I spoke English? she asked, suddenly suspicious.

I didn’t...I just guessed if you could read it, you could speak it. He motioned to the newspaper tucked under her arm and she gave a little smile of embarrassment.

Come, let me at least buy you an ice cream. You look hot, your face is going red! This comment was accompanied by a wink that made her smile widen. He didn’t wait for a better answer. He just took hold of her hand and pulled her toward the nearest ice cream vendor.

The next thing she knew she was strolling along the promenade with a rather dashing Italian stranger, eating a delicious Italian ice cream that he had just bought, and thinking perhaps it wasn’t so bad after all.

Is good, no? She nodded in agreement. My uncle, he makes it better. Next time I take you to him!

Next time? Um...so when have you seen me here before?

All the time, every time...here you are. I say to myself, that girl, she must be homeless, always walking here.

If you see me every time, you must be here too. Are you homeless?

What is this? I love this English humour! he exclaimed, laughing heartily again, his eyes twinkling just like the diamonds in the sea. No, no, I have a home. I will show you. But here I like...I fish, I walk, I see you.

I’m not here that often. I only come sometimes, when I have an afternoon off, or a late start at work.

Are you at work today?

No, not today. Oops, she wasn’t sure if she should have admitted that, but it all seemed harmless enough so far. She would make her excuses to leave later.

Yet, here you are again, he said and shrugged. Like I say, all the time. I am Nico.

Grace, said Grace.

Like an angel.

~ * ~

Grace didn’t even realise so much of the day had passed until she was conscious of getting hungry. Nico was easy company; he made her laugh a lot and seemed very uncomplicated and genuine. They had walked the full five miles of the promenade together and back, then had gone on to visit Castello di Arechi, the castle on the hill. They had scrambled around on the rocks, taken a walk around the castle, then sat together on the hill overlooking the stunning view. They had talked about everything, from her move to Italy to his job working with his father. He had a large family and Grace, who was an only one and loved to hear stories about sibling life, encouraged him to tell her all about them.

"So I says to Rosa, Viviana, she is only a child, why don’t you help her? And the crazy girl, she shouts at me, ‘I am not a child’ and yes, it’s easy then for Rosa. She just shrugs and me, I was only trying to helpa!"

You say Viviana is seventeen? No wonder she shouted at you! Grace laughed, feeling she already knew his family without ever having met them. Nico laughed too, watching her, and then his face became more serious.

Signora, maybe now you will have dinner with me?

Grace smiled, realizing she would. I’m not married, you know.

Then good, even less reason why you should not come. He stood and pulled her up, holding onto her hand, and began to lead her into the town.

Now what did I say? The signs, you see, they are always right.

~ * ~

They dined in a little pizzeria where everyone seemed to know Nico’s name, and he basked in the attention, showing Grace off like a prize.

Family business? she asked when they were finally seated.

Of course, my brother-in-law, this is his place. He will come in a minute to say hello.

Not only did he say hello when he came, but he offered them a bottle of wine on the house and a mouthwatering dish of olives and freshly baked bread for starters.

You are the girl he’s always telling us about, the brother-in-law, Piero, gushed.

What? Grace asked, thankful she had a glass of wine in front of her now.

Yes, yes. We keep saying to him, he must aska you here...and it’s good, now here you are!

It’s a lovely place, she managed, rather overwhelmed with all the Italian goodwill around her.

You enjoy, ah? It’s the besta pizza in Salerno! You will see! And with that he left them to themselves.

Grace found she was truly enjoying herself, more than she had done in a long time, with a man anyway. She’d had a few boyfriends, her first proper one at University, but he had moved away after his course had finished and their relationship had petered out. She dated a nice man in Rome for a while, another English ex-pat like herself, but somehow there hadn’t been enough chemistry between them, and it hadn’t lasted.

There had been another in Turin, a Greek man who had moved to Italy to be with his Italian girlfriend, but they had gotten into difficulties and had broken up. The trouble was that he had never quite gotten over her, and that made the relationship with Grace very complicated. She was glad to leave him in the end, and glad to move away, hearing eventually that he had gotten back together with the other woman. It was somewhat of a relief to think at least she hadn’t been the problem, they just weren’t meant to be.

Nico, however... She realised the couple of glasses of wine they had drunk was probably having some effect, but she also knew there was already a lot of chemistry