Chapter 29
A Dinner Borders on Disaster
Two hours later
The parlor in Villa Montblanc was buzzing when Armenia entered, her great niece Vittoria following behind.
She wondered what she had missed in not joining their party for their walking tour of Rome, even if she was secretly glad she had instead opted to spend her day in the company of Patrick McAdams.
How could she not? The businessman had been a perfect gentleman for their walking tour of four fountains, and then he had continued to impress her with his insistence that he actually felt affection for her. Enough that he had insisted they be married.
Time would tell on that account.
She had invited him for dinner the following evening. Part of her expected that after a night of retrospection, he would send his regrets. The rest of her hoped beyond all reason he would show up at Villa D’Avalos clutching a dozen red roses and a ring featuring an enormous gemstone.
A girl could dream, couldn’t she? Even if she was nearly old enough to be his mother?
As for how she would reply to his marriage proposal—should he offer another one—she still wasn’t sure.
She probably should accept on the basis of his bed sport alone, but was she really willing to give up her life as a fairly happy and rather well-to-do spinster in exchange for becoming a textiles matriarch?
He would have to be willing to move into her villa, for there was no way she would give up her home for any man—no matter how good he was in bed.
Nor would she move to America. At some point, she expected he would wish to rejoin his son in Boston. What then?
“Zia Armenia!”
The greeting from her niece, Nicoletta, pulled her from her reverie, and she quickly displayed a huge grin for the benefit of her hostess and the members of her husband’s family that filled the Montblanc Villa parlor.
She paused to allow Vittoria to join her at her side, and the two curtsied in unison once the gentlemen in the room had stood and bowed.
“Thank you so much for the invitation, mia donna. This is a perfect ending to a rather pleasant day,” she said as she grasped Nicoletta’s hands and allowed her niece to kiss her on both cheeks.
She watched as Vittoria followed suit, and the two took the only remaining seats in the parlor.
Everyone else settled back into their chairs or settees, although she noted that David, Viscount Penton, was left leaning against the fireplace mantel.
From his expression, she thought he might be experiencing a bout of indigestion, which given the fact that they hadn’t yet eaten anything, seemed rather odd.
“I see the marchese is once again in the company of Donna Nancy,” Armenia murmured, her gaze going to the youngsters. The two were seated at the gaming table at the back of the parlor.
“The Russo were in a terrible accident last night. They did not survive,” Nicoletta said in a quiet voice. “We’re keeping Nancy until we learn what might become of her.”
Armenia’s eyes widened briefly before she said, “Whatever happens, do not allow her to go to the family in Naples.”
“I am in agreement,” Nicoletta replied. “Donald has already sent a letter of inquiry asking if Nancy might remain with us.” She nodded in the direction of Barbara. “Or become a ward.”
Armenia nodded her understanding before she directed a smile at Barbara. “You must tell me all about your walking tour,” she said.
“Most invigorating, so interesting, and immensely satisfying,” the countess said, her attention darting to the door.
Armenia followed her line of sight to discover the butler waiting for an opening in their conversation.
“Viene servita la cena,” he announced. Dinner is served.
“Grazie,” Donald replied. He stood and offered his arm to Nicoletta at the same time Antony did the same for Nancy. The two children made their way to the door followed by the others who had paired off and followed in order of their rank.
“Might you two join me?” David asked, directing his query to Armenia and Vittoria. He held out both arms, bent at the elbows.
Armenia was quick to accept his offer, giving him a nod as she placed an arm on his.
Although she was a statuesque woman and only a couple of inches shorter than he was, she did nothing to compensate for her height.
Instead, she noticed David straightening as much as he could by pulling back his shoulders.
Visibly limping, Vittoria fell in at the back of the procession.
An odd sound emanated from David’s throat, and the conte’s daughter was suddenly pulled up next to him. “Why are you limping?” he asked in a whisper.
“Because my feet are quite sore from our walk today,” she hissed in reply.
Armenia furrowed her brows at hearing the obvious disdain in her niece’s voice. “The discomfort you are experiencing is not Don Penton’s fault,” she whispered.
Vittoria dipped her head. “Apologies,” she replied.
Once they were in the dining room, Nicoletta was seated at one end with Donald taking the carver. The others couples took chairs across the table from one another so that Armenia was left next to David and Vittoria was opposite them.
Footmen appeared with the wine and first course, and a lively discussion about that day’s sights ensued. Armenia displayed a pleasant expression in between bites of food. Although she usually ate very little at dinner, she was famished.
“It is unfortunate you did not join us for our walk today,” Barbara said from the other end of the table.
Armenia set down her glass of wine. “Indeed. I do believe our paths nearly crossed in the Piazza del Rotunda, though,” she commented. “I was there with a new acquaintance to admire the interior of the Pantheon.”
“The interior?” Diana repeated. “What pray tell was your interest, my lady?”
Despite her plan to simply keep quiet during dinner, Armenia was forced to participate. “The perfect number involved in its construction,” she replied, the memory of her kiss with Patrick McAdams beneath the oculus sending a frisson through her entire body. “At least, from a Greek’s perspective.”
“Six?” David said from her right.
“Eight-and-twenty,” Randy said. “But...” He paused, his brows furrowing in concentration.
“Originally there were eight-and-twenty red porphyry columns in the Pantheon. They have since been replaced with granite copies,” Armenia explained. “There are also eight-and-twenty coffers in each row of the ceiling.”
“Fascinating,” Diana murmured. “I do wish you had been with us. Pray tell, what else did you see today?”
Armenia felt heat color her face as several eyes turned to regard her with anticipation. For a moment, she thought to shock them with a comment about Patrick’s physique, but reason had her saying, “Four fountains is all. I live very close to Piazza Navona, you see, where there are three.”
“We’ll have to go there on one of our walks,” Helen said.
“After the Forum and the Colosseum, my love,” Tom said with a chuckle.
“Is that tomorrow’s itinerary?” Armenia asked.
“Indeed. Will you join us, Zia Armenia?” Nicoletta asked. “We’ll be taking the coaches, of course. I can send one for you,” she offered.
When everyone’s eyes were on her, Armenia realized she could hardly decline.
The outing would certainly help the day go by faster.
“I should like that very much, although I must be back at Villa D’Avalos by five o’clock.
” Before anyone could ask, she added, “I am hosting a friend for dinner.” She knew Vittoria was staring at her even before her gaze swept to the young lady.
“I’ll send the coach so it arrives around eleven o’clock,” Nicoletta said, grinning in delight.
“I shall look forward to being your escort on the morrow,” David said, directing his comment to Armenia. He drained his glass of wine in two gulps.
She blinked. “Why, grazie. I don’t believe I’ve had the benefit of such a handsome young man on my arm for a couple of decades.”
He chuckled, but when his gaze settled on Vittoria, the humor quickly dissipated from his face.
Vittoria was staring daggers at him.
Armenia was sure he was about to mention he would also see to escorting Vittoria, but a footman stopped to refill their wine glasses and to set the next course before them.
By the time they had resumed eating, the conversation had turned to something they had learned at one of the other piazzas that day, and Armenia was relieved to simply eat in silence.
Nicoletta caught her attention once, though, a pleading look that had her noticing how Vittoria and David were both sulking.
The two were taking turns staring at one another.
When one realized the other’s attention was on them, they quickly took a drink of wine or pretended interest in something on their plate.
Armenia might have felt amusement at seeing what could possibly be a lovers’ tiff in progress—didn’t they realize that life was too short for such pettiness?—but at no point had she thought the two felt affection for one another.
Just the opposite given how they had behaved with one another in the parlor.
She glanced over at Nicoletta, a brow arched in silent query. The young matron’s look of defeat had her scoffing softly. “Affection cannot be forced,” she whispered.
“I understand,” the marchesa replied sadly.
At no point did either David or Vittoria seem to notice they were the topic of the other women’s quiet conversation.
Given how many glasses of wine the two consumed, it shouldn’t have been a surprise. By the time dessert was served, they were obviously inebriated, and neither were happy drunks.