Chapter 27
A Bath Before Dinner
Meanwhile, back at Villa Montblanc
Prior to the start of their Grand Tour, the practice of afternoon napping had been a foreign concept to the Slaters and Forsters. After their long walking tour of Rome and the excitement of meeting Nancy, most in their party were happy to retreat to their guest bedchambers in Villa Montblanc.
Not all of them did so to sleep. Vittoria took the opportunity to take a bath prior to that night’s dinner in the hopes her feet could recover.
She winced as she pulled her feet from the black leather half-boots that had been delivered to Palazzo D’Avalos only the week before.
Her toes were red, and blood oozed from an older wound that had reopened whilst on that day’s walk.
At least the slippers her lady’s maid had packed for that night’s dinner were her most comfortable pair. She feared she would be limping otherwise.
Once she was in the tub, she dismissed her lady’s maid with instructions she be left alone until it was time to dress for dinner.
She wanted time to think. Time to sort the events of the prior evening at the ball and to review the conversations she’d had with David during their walk that day.
David.
How could a man be so exasperating? So self-confident? So damned amiable? So handsome despite a clear lack of Italian heritage?
Surely such a beast was a rogue. Ready to pounce on the first young lady with whom he thought he could take advantage.
And yet he hadn’t. Not even the night before when they were alone in the library.
Damn him.
She wasn’t even sure why she accused him of being a rogue when they were in the company of his family.
That wasn’t exactly true. She knew why.
The thought that he had slighted her by not attempting to ruin her hurt more than she realized.
After being raised to believe she was a beautiful young lady and that every young man—and old—would want to have their way with her had left her with the impression every man would misbehave in her company.
Every man would forfeit his good breeding in order to have his way with her.
That David, Viscount Penton, didn’t make a move in that regard should have felt like a breath of fresh air. Instead, it felt as if she had been doused with a bucket of cold water.
Wasn’t she worthy of his attentions—good or bad? Beautiful enough to incite his worst behavior? Alluring enough to have him bowing at her feet.
She lifted one of her wounded feet above the level of the water and winced. No one would bow to these feet, she thought sourly, noting how they were still red and swollen in several places.
Not once had David attempted to trap her in a dark alcove or take liberties whilst they were alone in the barouche. There had only been a moment in the Pantheon when she thought certain he intended to kiss her.
If the priest hadn’t interrupted them, would he have kissed her?
She couldn’t deny the excitement she had felt at the thought that he might bestow a kiss on her lips.
It would be her first—she refused to count any of the sloppy kisses Don Luciano had landed on her neck before his near demise in the alcove the night before.
Thank the gods his lips hadn’t managed to find hers in the dark.
She might have bit off one of them. Had he tried to insert his tongue in her mouth, she would have bit his tongue.
After her mother’s death, Vittoria took her instruction for how to deal with men from Aunt Armenia. Her great aunt had listed all the possible ways in which to deny a rogue’s attempts to ruin a young lady, her instructions obviously gained from experience.
Vittoria had listened intently, determined she be prepared for a come-out she had been taught would include an attempt at ruination by Don Luciano and any number of other inappropriate overtures by the young bucks expected to attend the ball.
Don Luciano behaved as expected and suffered for his behavior. However, no other man tried anything untoward. None of her dance partners tried to kiss her, or to “accidentally” cup a breast, or trap her against a column or a wall. They were all on their very best behavior.
Including Viscount Penton.
Damn him.
Perhaps she would discover more during dinner that evening. Aunt Armenia would be joining them, and with any luck, she might discover if her expectations were realistic.