Chapter 24
A Carriage Ride Proves Problematic
Meanwhile, back at Piazza della Rotunda
“I think it’s time we head back home,” Donald murmured, his attention on the priest who had been speaking with David and Vittoria.
Or scolding them.
He couldn’t tell for certain, but he would discover more when he had a chance to be alone with his brother later that evening.
“There will be a luncheon waiting for us,” Nicoletta replied, which had Donald hurrying off to gather the others in their party.
“Our carriages await,” he said as they filed out of the Pantheon. Indeed, two town coaches and a barouche, all emblazoned with the Montblanc coat of arms, were lined up along one side of the piazza.
“I would prefer to be out of the sun,” Barbara said, hinting she wanted to ride in one of the town coaches.
“And you shall, my sweet,” Will said, helping her into the first coach. They were joined by Nicoletta and Donald while Randy, Diana, Tom, and Helen hurried into the second coach.
David furrowed a brow, as if he suspected his brother might have planned the seating arrangements. He glanced over at Vittoria. “It appears we’re to share the barouche,” he commented.
“If we must,” she replied, lifting a shoulder as she opened her parasol. She allowed the tiger to help her into the open equipage, taking a seat so she faced the direction of travel.
Tempted to join her on the same bench, David realized her gown wouldn’t allow it—she had positioned herself in the center of the seat and spread her skirts so they nearly covered the entire bench.
Her parasol was already opened, and she held the ivory handle in one gloved hand while the other rested on her lap.
With her chin thrust out and tipped up a fraction, she appeared as spoiled as she behaved.
David settled onto the opposite bench and leaned his head back until sunlight bathed the lower half of his face. “You’re quite fortunate to live where the sun shines so frequently,” he remarked.
Vittoria sniffed. “Hardly. It can be terribly hot,” she countered.
“But tolerable in the winter,” he said.
She lifted a shoulder dismissively. “I suppose.”
“You don’t have to trudge through snow?” he asked.
Blinking, she appeared confused for a moment. “Trudge?” she repeated. “There is rarely snow here.”
“Ah,” David replied, nodding.
“What is ‘trudge’?” she asked.
“How one must walk when the snow—or the mud, I suppose—is deep,” he replied.
“It’s... unpleasant. And very damaging to half-boots and slippers.
” He gestured down to where the toes of her half-boots poked out from beneath the hem of her gown.
They suddenly disappeared, and he lifted his questioning gaze to discover her face had taken on a blush of color. “What is it?” he asked.
She shook her head. “Nothing.”
“Why did you hide your feet?”
“My feet are none of your concern,” she replied.
David sounded a scoff. “If you have a rock in your shoe—”
“I do not.”
“Or lodged in the sole of your—”
“My boots are none of your concern.” She seemed to tuck them even farther back from the edge of her hem.
Furrowing his brows, David regarded her a moment before he said, “Are they giving you pain, my lady?”
She gave him a suspicious look. “Always.”
David blinked. “Well, then why did you wear them?”
It was Vittoria’s turn to blink. “They are what is worn,” she replied.
“Well, surely there must be a shoemaker who can craft you a pair that don’t cause you pain,” he argued.
“I rather doubt it,” she said on a huff, her attention on one of the buildings they passed.
“Must be why Donald insisted he rub Nikky’s feet every night,” he murmured absently.
Vittoria’s eyes rounded, her gaze turning to him. “What is this?”
David lifted a shoulder in response. “I think he learned to do it from Father,” he said, as if he was talking to himself. “Something about the return on effort far greater than the cost.”
Visibly swallowing, Vittoria seemed to display even more color than she had only the moment before. “I cannot imagine of what it is you speak,” she said, once again turning her attention to something outside of the barouche.
Determined he find something of interest to the both of them, he asked, “Have you ever been to England? To see your aunt in London?”
Once again, Vittoria blinked and seemed to struggle with how to answer his query. “I have not.”
“But you have traveled? Outside of Rome?”
She seemed uncertain of how to answer before she finally lifted a shoulder. “I have been to Naples, Messina, Taormina, Catania...” She shrugged again. “And Roma.”
“That’s all?” he asked in surprise.
Her chin rising defiantly, Vittoria was obviously offended. “It is enough,” she stated.
“How old are you?”
Her eyes once again rounded as a scoff sounded.
Before she could put voice to a scold, David held up a gloved hand.
“Apologies. I did not mean it... like it sounded,” he stammered.
“I merely expected the daughter of a conte to be more worldly is all.” He knew if looks could kill, he would have been dead earlier that morning.
Now he was wishing the floor of the barouche would open up to allow him to escape the equipage.
“How worldly were you at eighteen years of age?” she asked.
David blinked, his mouth opening and closing as if he were a fish. “Oh,” he finally responded. “I had only traveled in England at that age,” he admitted. “Oxford, London, the Cotswolds. Derbyshire.” He stopped and struggled to remember any other places he might have been. “Oh, and Bath, of course.”
One of Vittoria’s brows arched. “Of course,” she mocked.
Sighing, David was about to give up on attempting further conversation when his attention was drawn to a structure on the horizon. “Is that... is that the Colosseum?” he asked in awe.
Vittoria followed his line of sight and said, “It is.”
“Will we go see it on the morrow?” he asked, wincing when they passed by a building that prevented him from seeing the ancient site of gladiatorial battles.
“I believe that is the plan,” she replied. “You will need to climb a number of stairs if you intend to go to the top.”
“We can go inside?” he asked, turning his attention back to her.
“Of course.”
“Have you been?”
She lifted a shoulder. “I have.”
David scoffed softly. “You were not impressed?” he guessed.
For a moment, she seemed unsure of how to answer. “If I did not know its main purpose for existing, I think I would have enjoyed it far more than I did,” she replied. “It’s quite large, with excellent sight lines from nearly every seat, and views of the city and the Forum from the arched openings.”
“I’ll have to be sure Diana brings her paints,” he murmured.
“Paints?” Vittoria repeated.
He nodded. “In addition to her avocation of archaeology, Lady Forster is quite a talented painter.”
Vittoria furrowed a brow. “You do not seem... bothered that she has an avocation.”
“Because I am not. She’s rather clever. Remembers everything she has ever read, seen, or heard, which makes her an excellent resource should I have a question about something from the past,” he said, grinning.
Vittoria narrowed her eyes, her suspicion evident. “Why is it you did not marry her?”
David was stunned by the query. “Uh... I suppose because I am not attracted to her in a manner befitting marriage,” he replied. “Whereas Randy was quite smitten with her from the moment he first saw her.”
“Smitten,” Vittoria repeated quietly. “I do not know this word.”
His eyes widening, David considered how to provide a definition. “Uh... almost love at first sight. Interested in a romantic sense. Attraction to another, I suppose.” Angling his head to one side, he asked, “Have you ever been smitten?”
Vittoria shook her head.
“Liar,” he accused, but he was grinning as he said it.
“Have you?” she countered defensively.
“Of course. Probably... a half-dozen times,” he admitted, his grin widening when he saw her reaction of shock. “The last time was with a young lady with whom I was betrothed.”
Her dark brows furrowing in confusion, Vittoria asked, “Did you... did you break it off?”
David inhaled softly and let the breath out in a whoosh.
“It was a mutual decision which allowed her to accept an offer of marriage from another. From Diana’s brother, in fact.
They are married now, and quite well suited for one another.
” He struggled to swallow the lump that threatened to close off his throat.
Not having thought about Lady Jane Fitzsimmons for some time, he was surprised by his reaction.
“You loved her,” Vittoria stated in a hoarse whisper, leaning forward to study his face.
Blinking several times, David nodded. “I suppose I did,” he said.
“Were you a rogue with her?”
“No!” he replied, perhaps a bit too forcibly.
“Is that why you were betrothed?”
“No. Not at all. In fact, I offered a betrothal as a means of protection. So she would have an excuse to put off unwanted suitors,” he explained.
“I even gave her a ring, which...” He attempted to clear his throat.
“She still wears to this day. As her wedding ring.” He took an unsteady breath before looking up to discover Vittoria staring at him.
“I gave it to Marcus since he didn’t have one, and she adored the one I had given her. ”
“A family jewel?” she asked in awe.
He shook his head and waved a hand dismissively. “No. I had bought it in a jewelry shop in London. Which reminds me, I probably should be on the hunt for a replacement. Might you know of a jeweler where I could obtain another?”
It was Vittoria’s turn to blink. “There are many here in Roma,” she replied.
“Good. Perhaps you can help me choose one,” he suggested, anxious to see how she would respond. For the first time that afternoon, she seemed to have forgiven him for the events of the night before. “It would be good to have the opinion of someone of your sex,” he said. “Of your age.”
“Perhaps,” she replied haughtily. “Or, far better, you can simply take the next woman with whom you are smitten and ask her opinion,” she said before rolling her eyes and directing her gaze beyond his shoulder.
David allowed a long sigh and decided he best keep quiet for the rest of the ride back to Villa Montblanc.