Chapter 7
Reconnaissance Proves Enlightening
Meanwhile...
Patrick emerged from the conte’s study and turned to bow. “I look forward to meeting your farm’s foreman, mio don,” he said.
“I will be sure he knows what’s to be done. As I said earlier, my flock of sheep is hardly of a size to warrant your interest—”
“Ah, but the size is not what’s important, mio don. The quality of the wool is,” Patrick replied.
“I will not... what is the word? Quibble? Over the details. Your offer is fair, although your timing is not exactly perfect. I don’t expect the flock to be sheared until late spring.
However, I am quite sure my foreman will be happy to learn he doesn’t have to see to transporting it all the way to Prato.
” He allowed a long sigh. “I would not even have sheep except my daughter insisted I buy them for her.”
Patrick gave a start. “They are your daughter’s sheep?”
The conte responded by rolling his eyes. “She was happy to have them on the occasion of her tenth birthday—she begged me for them, so I bought her ten—and then she promptly forgot all about them,” Eduardo explained. “Now I have a huge flock. I spoiled her.”
The two made their way back to the ballroom, where the crush of people had grown and the number of dancers had noticeably increased.
“Your daughter’s come-out appears to be a success,” Patrick said, noting the crowd of young bucks surrounding a young lady gowned in silver.
“Indeed. The sooner she is married, the more inclined I will be to find another contessa,” Edoardo replied. “I find I miss my wife most at times like this.”
“I, too, am a widower,” Patrick said.
“Were you left with children to raise?” Edoardo asked, his dark brows furrowing.
“One son. He’s... he’s an adult now, though. Runs my company’s office in Boston,” he explained, his gaze sweeping the room in search of Armenia. “Might I ask as to your aunt’s situation? I could not help but notice she was not in the company of an escort this evening.”
Edoardo chuckled softly. “She rarely is. If you are asking if she is married, she is not. If you are asking if she is otherwise attached,” he paused and shrugged. “This I cannot say.”
Patrick scoffed. “Does she live here in the palazzo, mio don?”
The chuckle grew into a full-throated laugh. “Zia Armenia is in possession of the original Villa D’Avalos here in Roma,” he said. “My father gave it to Don Montblanc as part of my sister’s dowry, but upon Montblanc’s death, he ensured it was given to Armenia.”
The thought the marquess might have been enjoying the attentions of his marchesa’s aunt had Patrick scowling on behalf of Lady Montblanc.
From what he had ascertained during their meeting that evening, there had been a substantial age difference between Nicoletta and Montblanc.
Had the marquess sought a dalliance with a woman closer to his own age?
“You needn’t be consumed by the Green Monster,” Edoardo said, a smirk appearing when he misinterpreted Patrick’s reaction.
“Montblanc wished for the property to be returned to a D’Avalos, but he didn’t wish for my father to end up with it.
He knew Armenia preferred living in Roma to Catania.
Knew that she would see to keeping the property in good repair.
So it has worked out for all,” he explained.
“If I wished to escort her to an entertainment, is there someone with whom I should first speak?” Patrick asked. He didn’t dare approach her until he knew he wouldn’t be in someone’s crosshairs.
Edoardo scoffed softly. “I’m not sure if you’re aware, but Zia Armenia is probably old enough to be your mother,” he whispered hoarsely. “She answers to no one but herself,” he added.
Patrick inhaled softly. “I appreciate the information.” He glanced around again and finally spotted the woman in question climbing the stairs. Despite the late hour, she still appeared statuesque, her shoulders and back straight as an arrow, not a hair on her head out of place.
His fingers ached to pull the pins from the raven hair. To spear the carefully constructed coiffure until the locks tumbled down around those gorgeous shoulders and back. To see it splayed across bright white bed linens. To feel it brushing over his bare chest.
Well aware his thoughts had his cock responding as if it would be experiencing a long-forgotten sensation, Patrick tamped down his erotic thoughts.
Knowing the lady’s retiring room was on the same level as the ballroom, he surmised she was about to take her leave. “I wish to thank you again for seeing me this evening, mio don. I’ll send the contracts by courier if I’m unable to bring them myself,” he said, bowing to the conte.
“I look forward to doing business with you,” Edoardo said, his own attention on his aunt as a footman helped place a mantel on her shoulders.
He wasn’t surprised when Patrick McAdams made his way directly across the ballroom and straight up the stairs.