Chapter 39 #2
“No, mio don,” David replied, closing the box with a snap. He tucked it back into his waistcoat pocket. “I believe I saved her from ruination the night of her come-out, though.” He dipped his head. “Whether she wanted my help or not.”
For a moment, Edoardo regarded him with a blank expression. “Oh, that nasty business with Don Libertino? Or Don Diavala—whatever they’re calling the merda these days?” He made a dismissive motion with a hand. “I do hope your help was appreciated?”
David was still trying to hide his reaction to hearing the conte’s assessment of Vittoria’s attacker when he realized he was expected to provide a response.
“Not at first, no,” he said on a sigh. “But, uh, I have spent the last two days in her company—on our walking tours of the city—and I have managed to clear up any misunderstandings we had about each other.”
Edoardo blinked. “She didn’t spend the time complaining?”
David shook his head. “No, mio don.”
“She didn’t cry about her feet hurting? Her gown not fitting? Her hair giving her pain?”
Stiffening, David furrowed his brows. “She did not.”
Obviously expecting a different answer, Edoardo seemed momentarily dumbfounded. “We are speaking of my daughter, Vittoria?”
“We are, mio don.”
“Huh. Well, why, pray tell, do you wish to marry her?”
David thought the query odd, but he remembered the reason Don Luciano wanted Vittoria and thought to make it clear he wasn’t after the young lady’s dowry.
“I have come to feel affection for her, mio don. I would not even have considered marriage for myself at my age—I am only twenty-three—but my brother reminded me he fell in love with your sister at that age.”
Edoardo nodded slowly. “He did. Pray tell, where will you live?”
“In London. I will be seeing to the business of the Devonfield marquessate. There is a townhouse there in which we can live, and Donna Vittoria will not be far from your Zia Adeline.”
Edoardo displayed a look of appreciation for a moment. “Will you bring her back to Rome on occasion?”
“That is my intention, mio don.”
“Are you quite sure she hasn’t complained about anything?”
David suppressed the urge to chuckle. “Last night I heard her crying and learned her boots had caused her great pain—”
“Now this sounds like my Vittoria,” he said, rolling his eyes.
“I... I arranged for a pair of bespoke half-boots to be made for her this morning. Right after I bought the ring. We fetched them only an hour or so ago, and she is quite pleased with their fit.”
Edoardo seemed impressed. “What will you do if she... does it again? Cries or complains?”
Sensing a trap, David allowed a grunt. “The same thing my father does to my mother.”
Edoardo’s eyes rounded. “And what might that be?”
“He kisses her.”
Blinking, the conte stepped back. “He kisses her,” he repeated. “Hmm.”
“What say you, mio don? Am I allowed to court your daughter?”
Edoardo nodded. “Marry her in a fortnight, and I’ll not only pay you her dowry, I’ll give you the sheep.”
David blinked. “The sheep, mio don?” he asked in confusion.
Already turning to lead them back to his office, the conte said, “You’re not going to believe this, but the American who wishes to wed Armenia has the exclusive contract for the wool from my sheep. For his textiles business,” he added, stepping behind his huge desk.
“Oh. Are they pastured on your land, mio don?” David took the proffered chair opposite but made sure to sit on the front edge of it.
“Indeed. And they can stay there for all I care.”
Furrowing his brows in confusion, David asked, “Why would you give me sheep for which you have already secured a contract for their wool? Isn’t that guaranteed income for you?”
“Because I didn’t ask Vittoria if she approved,” he replied in a quiet voice. “They’re actually her sheep. I bought them for her when she turned nine or ten years of age.”
David blinked again. “Might I ask... why?”
“Because she insisted she wanted sheep. I bought them for her to teach her a lesson, but I’m not sure if she has learned it yet or not.”
For a moment, David simply stared at the conte. “Something about the having not being nearly as satisfying as the wanting?” he guessed.
Edoardo held up his forefinger. “That is the one.”
“Ah.” David sighed. “Well, I do expect I’ll be doing some spoiling,” he murmured. “Because I wish to.”
“But not too much,” Edoardo warned. He pulled a sheet from a drawer and held it up to the light from a candle lamp. “Here it is. I’ll be sure it’s included with the contract for the dowry,” he said.
“So, I have your permission, mio don?”
The conte nodded. “You do. I’ll send a footman with the contract when I have it drawn up.” He chuckled softly. “And I’ll send a note to my zia. She’ll be pleased she won’t have to chaperone Vittoria at future entertainments.”
“Grazie, mio don. If you’ll allow it, I will tell my brother and Donna Montblanc.”
“Nikky will be pleased,” Edoardo said, grinning. “Her nipote will also be her sorella.”
Not having thought that far ahead, David nodded. “She will,” he agreed.
When David took his leave of Palazzo D’Avalos, he let out a huge sigh of relief before climbing into the barouche.
He could hardly wait to tell Vittoria he had been given her sheep.