Chapter 38
Roses, More Roses, and a Bath Interrupted
Meanwhile, back at Villa D’Avalos
Armenia watched as David bounded back into the barouche, struck by how much he looked like his older brother. How much he behaved like Donald had all those years ago when he was on his Grand Tour and had courted her niece, Nicoletta, in good faith.
At first, she had merely thought Donald was placating her niece.
Doing her bidding because he was able to bed her—what young man would turn down the opportunity to experience sexual congress whilst on his Grand Tour?
But she soon realized Donald had done so because he truly wished to make Nicoletta his wife.
How wrong she had been about Donald back then!
The memory of the heartsick man’s last night in Catania came back to her in a flash.
The anger she had felt at what her brother had done.
The rage she experienced when she learned Nicoletta would be marrying the much older Marchese Montblanc.
How stunned she had been when Nicoletta later explained the motivation behind it all.
As her natural father, Montblanc saw their “marriage-in-name-only” as the means of ensuring he had an heir, and it gave Nicoletta the opportunity to live with her real father, a man far more caring than Enrico D’Avalos had been.
The cur.
As a result of machinations, Montblanc had his heir—his very own grandson—because of Donald. Nicoletta was left a titled lady with a fortune. And now they were happily married with another child.
Not only was he a doting father, Donald had proved his ability to manage multiple properties as well as the Montblanc fortune. He wasn’t a spendthrift, even if he did tend to spoil his wife. Armenia was fairly sure he would spoil Amalia even more.
She was quite sure David would be much like his older brother in that regard. That is, if he did decide to court and marry Vittoria.
When Nicoletta had confided in her the week prior—to inform Armenia of her in-laws’ impending arrival and her plans to act as a matchmaker for her niece, Armenia had been hesitant.
David was terribly young to be considering marriage, but then Donald had been about the same age when he first courted Nicoletta.
The crack of the coachman’s whip brought Armenia out of her brief reverie, and she lifted a gloved hand to wave as the horses took the barouche from her courtyard.
One of her own footmen saw to closing the wrought-iron gate, and before she could turn to go up the marble step to her front door, DeLuca had the door open for her.
Before she had even crossed the threshold, the scent of roses assaulted her nostrils.
“Roses?” she said, her attention going to a huge bouquet in a vase in the middle of the round table in the entry.
“Sì. They were delivered earlier this afternoon,” he replied in Italian, taking her parasol from her grasp.
Armenia stepped up to the bouquet, her gaze darting about the red blooms and surrounding greenery in search of a card. She plucked the tiny white envelope and quickly unfolded it.
I thought of you all night long. I look forward to our dinner this evening. ~ Patrick
Clutching the note in her gloved hand, Armenia inhaled softly.
“They are not the only ones, mia donna,” DeLuca said.
She turned to stare at the servant. “What’s this?”
“I put the second delivery in the vase in the dining room—”
“The second delivery?” she repeated.
He nodded. “They came at noon. Then the next bouquet arrived a short time ago. I put those in the vase in your sitting room.”
Armenia blinked, finally allowing a tentative smile. “I shall have to discover who those might be from,” she said, moving to the stairs. “Has cook everything she needs for this evening’s dinner?”
He nodded. “All is in readiness, signora. I was about to go down to the cellars for the wine.”
“Very good. Send Marcella to my apartment. I need to bathe and dress for dinner,” she said.
“Sì, signora.” He hurried off towards the servants’ quarters.
Armenia followed the scent of roses up the curved stairs to the first floor corridor. The cloisonné vase in the dining room featured another bouquet of red roses, the note resting against the base. She quickly unfolded it, a gloved hand going to her mouth when she read the masculine scrawl.
I thought of you all morning. I look forward to our dinner this evening. All my love. ~ Patrick
Collecting the notes, she rushed up the stairs and into her apartment, stopping at seeing the even larger bouquet of red roses on the low table in front of the settee.
The note poked out from between the blooms, and she pulled it out, half expecting to discover Patrick had changed his mind and had sent his regrets.
For this note, she opened it more slowly, tears pricking her eyes when she read his familiar words.
I am still thinking of you. I look forward to our dinner this evening. All my love and kisses. ~Patrick
P.S. I plan to arrive with more roses, but first I must find some.
Armenia tittered as tears streamed down her face, and she remembered what David had said only a few minutes ago.
“He loves you.”
How had he known?
“Donna?”
Armenia whirled to see her lady’s maid standing at the door. “Oh, Marcella. I must bathe and change for dinner. I expect my guest to arrive in a few hours.”
The servant dipped a curtsy. “I will see to it the water is brought up.”
A half-hour later, Armenia stepped into the copper tub and groaned in relief once she was surrounded by the warm water. Her feet hurt from the earlier walk in the Colosseum and the Forum, and she wasn’t looking forward to stuffing them into the slippers that matched her red dinner gown.
Sighing, she settled her head against the back of the tub and closed her eyes. Although she was aware of movement nearby, she knew Marcella would be preparing her gown and underthings, perhaps setting aside the bath linens for when she was finished soaking away the aches from the day.
The scent of roses had her grinning. Patrick’s generosity meant several rooms would continue to smell good for at least a week.
“You’re even more gorgeous than when I left you yesterday.”
The words sounded as if they were said from far away, or perhaps because she imagined them in her semi-dream state. She inhaled deeply. “The roses are beautiful,” she murmured.
The brush of a kiss on her cheek had her slowly opening her eyes to discover Patrick leaning over her, a bouquet of red roses clutched in one of his hands. He wasn’t dressed for dinner but appeared to be wearing business attire. “You’re here,” she whispered in awe.
He chuckled. “Gladly so, but I merely stopped to drop off some more roses. DeLuca sent me up, I think because he didn’t know where to take these,” he said, indicating the flowers. “I’ll return in a couple of hours for dinner,” he added.
Blinking several times, Armenia gave a start and sat up in the tub. “I must have fallen asleep,” she said. “I spent the day on a tour with Nicoletta’s family. In the Forum,” she explained.
“I didn’t mean to wake you, but I... I had to kiss you,” he said, grinning as he attempted to keep his gaze from sweeping over the surface of the bathwater. It was evident she wasn’t wearing her shift, and his manhood reacted by hardening in anticipation.
He lifted one of her hands from the edge of the tub and kissed the back of it before he turned it over to kiss her palm.
She inhaled softly and then gasped when she saw how wrinkled her fingertips were. “Oh, dear. I didn’t realize how long I’ve been in here.”
“Would you like help getting out?” He set the roses aside.
“I’m not sure I want you to see me in all my glory by the light of day,” she said, covering her breasts with one arm.
“Trust me when I tell you, it will be a treat for me.”
Before Armenia could reply, he reached down and grasped both her hands in his and pulled her up. Water sluiced down her body, some splashing onto Patrick, but he merely gazed at her.
Once she was standing, he reached over and grabbed a bath linen from a nearby chair. He shook it out and quickly wrapped it around her. “Do you require another?” he asked.
“This will be enough,” she replied, ensuring she was mostly covered. “Grazie.”
He dipped his head. “I should leave. Let you finish. I need to dress as well,” he said.
She glanced over at the roses. “Are there any roses left in all of Rome?”
He chuckled. “Not anywhere near here,” he acknowledged. “But I’ve certainly made friends with a number of florists.”
“No doubt,” she replied dryly.
He pried one of her hands from the towel and kissed the back of it. “I’ll return soon.”
Nodding, she leaned forward and kissed him on the cheek. “Thank you for the roses. For the notes,” she whispered.
“I wonder what you’ll think when you read that one,” he teased, nodding to where he had left the bouquet. He bowed and took his leave.
Armenia waited, listening until the sounds of his boot heels faded down the marble stairs. Once she was sure he was gone, she carefully lifted the roses. Glad the florist had wrapped their stems with a linen—she didn’t wish to be impaled by a thorn—she found the note and pulled it out.
Marcella appeared in the doorway, a look of confusion on her face. “I thought I heard a man’s voice,” she said, hurrying to pluck another bath linen from the stack on the chair. She unfurled it and wrapped it around Armenia’s shoulders.
“You did. My dinner guest,” Armenia replied. “Could you see to putting these into water for me? I’d like them on the dressing table.”
Marcella nodded, taking the bouquet from her mistress. “Sì, signora.”
Once her lady’s maid was gone, Armenia unfolded the note and tittered.
I do not believe I can wait any longer to see you today. I look forward to our dinner this evening and to every other dinner we share for the rest of our lives.
All my love and kisses and my heart. ~Patrick
Inhaling a shaky breath Armenia, knew she would be hosting Patrick for far longer than just dinner that evening. She might require him to stay with her the following day as well.
Now she had to decide if she would be willing to host him for the rest of their lives.
A most pleasurable sensation rolled through her abdomen at the thought, and she moved a hand to her belly. “Perhaps I should stop thinking of reasons to deny him,” she whispered.
Refolding the note, she hurried to her bedchamber so Marcella could do her hair. For the entire time the lady’s maid spent on her coiffure, they were surrounded by the scent of roses.