Chapter 39
Rogues and Knights and Sheep
Meanwhile, in a barouche
David glanced over at Vittoria at the same time she turned her head in his direction. The two grinned as if they had been caught sneaking candy from the kitchens.
“What are you thinking?” he asked.
She dipped her head. “That I want you to like me.”
Chuckling, David said, “I would have thought the half-boots might have proved it.”
“Oh, they did what you intended. But I cannot help but think you feel...” She paused a moment, as if she was struggling to come up with the correct word in English.
“Obbigato,” she finally said. “Because you no doubt have learned the plans my aunt had for you, and I can imagine you would not wish to disappoint her. She is your sister.”
David blinked. “Pardon?” He stared at her until the barouche jerked at a sudden turn. “What are you talking about?” A memory of the conversation he’d had with his brother the night before came to mind, but the details were lost in the haze of the alcohol he had consumed.
“Aunt Armenia might have agreed to see to my come-out, but it is Aunt Nicoletta who has decided to play matchmaker on my behalf,” she replied.
David stiffened. “Has she... found someone for you?”
Vittoria swallowed. “I believe she thinks...” She huffed. “I think she has you in mind.”
Nodding thoughtfully, David said, “Well, I must admit I am rather honored she would hold me in such high regard.”
Gasping, she stared at him. “You are?”
“Well, of course. Surely there must be someone here in Rome that you think would suit you better,” he said, managing to hide a wince at the thought she might end up married to someone else. Especially when he had already decided he was going to propose.
He had the ring. He had her to himself for at least another few minutes. What the hell was he doing suggesting other candidates?
“I danced with several of them two nights ago,” she replied. “None were men with whom I wished to spend my entire life,” she said.
David stared her. “Not a single one?” Not even me?
She shook her head. “At least three enjoy the beds of... mistresses,” she said in a whisper. “Two are in desperate straits and in need of a dowry to pay their creditors. One prefers the company of men,” she added sadly. “Perhaps I really do believe every man is a rogue,” she said sadly.
“Not all of us, no,” he replied defensively. “I will admit, it is good that you were not raised to expect all men to be...” He waved his hands in frustration. “Knights in shining armor, but to suspect they are all libertines is not fair to those of us who are not.”
Her look of confusion cleared after she interpreted his meaning. “Aunt Nikky was very lucky,” she said.
David finally nodded. “My brother is a good man,” he acknowledged. “We were both raised by the same parents. The same aunt and uncle.”
The barouche suddenly stopped, and the two glanced around to discover they were back at Villa Montblanc. “That was fast,” he murmured.
Once the tiger had the door opened, David jumped down and turned to help Vittoria from the carriage. Before he could offer his arm to her, he realized they were being watched.
His father stood leaning against the front door, his expression suggesting he was not a happy man.
“Father, what’s happened?” he asked as they approached him.
Will held up his pocket watch. “The other two coaches arrived here over an hour ago. Where have you been?”
“We had to drop Armenia at her villa,” Vittoria replied, cradling the package containing her old half-boots in her arms. “She is hosting a guest for dinner this evening.”
His expression softening, Will seemed to accept her explanation. He motioned to her package. “Did you take another detour?” he asked, his query directed to David.
“Yes, Father. I... I saw to it Donna Vittoria has a more comfortable pair of half-boots,” he admitted. “Her feet were damaged from yesterday’s walking tour.”
Will’s brows shot up. “Did you... did you buy them for her?” he asked, his voice lowered as if he only wished for David to hear the query.
“I did, Father. I know it was inappropriate—”
“But it was very appreciated,” Vittoria said, positioning one foot so it appeared from beneath the hem of her gown. “They fit to perfection, so he has arranged for two more pairs to be made for me.”
Glancing down at her foot, Will made an odd sound in his throat.
His censure was apparent, but before he could scold his son, David said, “It worked for one of your cousins, Father. I was told he found a shoemaker in London who could make bespoke footwear for his lady who had a crushed foot. He ordered a dozen pairs of slippers and boots for his bride-to-be.”
Will gave a start. “I suppose your Grandmother Cherise told you about that?” he guessed.
David shook his head. “Great Aunt Adele did.”
Unable to hide the sudden humor he felt, Will said, “Whatever you do, don’t tell your mother.”
“Oh, she was there when Adele told us about it,” David replied.
Will crossed his arms and regarded the couple for a moment before his eyes widened. “Are you two...?”
Vittoria turned, stood on tiptoes, and kissed David on his cheek. “I’m very lucky to have met him, mio don,” she said.
“... getting married?”
David cleared his throat. “She hasn’t yet asked me, Father,” he teased, a grin appearing when Vittoria gasped. “I, uh, should probably have a word with Conte D’Avalos and continue the conversation Donna Vittoria and I were having before our arrival.”
Vittoria inhaled softly, her cheeks coloring with her sudden blush. “Perhaps after dinner?” she prompted. “I must go and change clothes.”
David nodded, and Will opened the door for her. When she was out of earshot, Will turned to David and shook his head. “I thought you didn’t like her?”
“Because I thought she was a shrew. She is not,” he replied.
“I thought she didn’t like you,” Will pressed.
“Because she thought I was a rogue, because... well, she has been raised to believe there are no honorable men,” David replied.
Will gave a start. “And you’ve proved otherwise?”
David considered the query for a moment. “I am trying very hard, sir.”
Will once again glanced at his pocket watch. “If you leave now for Palazzo D’Avalos, you can probably secure an appointment with the conte for the next day or so,” he suggested.
Glancing back at the barouche, David realized the coachman was waiting for orders. “That’s an excellent idea,” he said.
He didn’t bother saying a farewell but rather jogged back to the barouche, told the coachmen his new destination, and climbed into the equipage.
Will watched from where he stood and chuckled softly.
A half-hour later, Palazzo D’Avalos
Reviewing what he intended to say to the conte in his head—in English—David was about to translate it into Italian when the butler approached him.
He hadn’t expected to gain an audience with the aristocrat on this day.
He had merely thought to secure an appointment.
Learning from the butler that the conte was not only in residence but in his study had David asking if he might be allowed to meet with him.
He had watched as the servant crossed the large space David recognized had been used as a ballroom only two nights prior.
Two nights?
Now the space was barely recognizable, a number of settees, chairs, and end tables set up on Turkish rugs to emphasize the placement of the huge, carved marble fireplace that dominated one wall.
For a moment, David wondered why he hadn’t noticed it during the ball and realized it had been hidden behind a mirrored panel. Farther back, he recognized the corridor into which Don Luciano had taken Vittoria. Around the corner from there was the alcove featuring the statue of Apollo.
He hoped Apollo had survived his tumble from the caryatid.
Before the butler could say anything, Conte Edoardo D’Avalos emerged from the corridor opposite the one that had David’s attention.
“Don Penton, it is an honor to host you once again,” Edoardo called out in accented English.
“Mio don, it is I who is honored to be received with no appointment,” David replied, bowing to the conte.
“You are the second on this day.”
“Oh?”
“Do you recall meeting an American gentleman during the ball?”
David nodded. “Patrick McAdams,” he stated.
“That’s the one.”
“By chance, was he here to ask your permission for him to marry Donna Armenia?”
Edoardo gave a start. “Seems you know Signore McAdams better than I do.”
“I might have crossed paths with him this morning. At a jewelry shop.”
“Jewelry?” Edoardo repeated with appreciation.
“He, uh, he said he was going to ask Donna Armenia for her hand in marriage,” David murmured, hoping the coincidence would work in his favor—two gentlemen asking for permission to marry the conte’s relatives on the same day. “May I ask if you gave your permission?”
Edoardo chucked softly. “I will tell you what I told him. Aunt Armenia will make her own decision as to whether or not she marries and to whom,” he said with a sigh. “I have no say in the matter.”
“Then I hope she agrees to his marriage proposal,” David replied. “He loves her, and he’s already bought the ring. A ruby ring.”
Edoardo’s eyes widened. “That man has wasted no time. He only met Armenia during the ball.” He angled his head to one side. “And you? Did you happen to buy anything?”
“I bought a betrothal ring.” David reached into his waistcoat pocket and pulled out the ring box. Opening it, he held it out for the conte’s perusal. “I wish to ask permission to court your daughter.”
“Vittoria?” Edoardo asked, his manner suggesting he was surprised. He bent down to look at the ring more closely.
David experienced a moment of hesitation. “Have you another?”
Edoardo shook his head. “Gods, no,” he replied, grinning. “One daughter is quite enough.” He suddenly sobered. “Have you ruined her?”