Chapter 40
News Arrives
The missive Donald had been waiting for arrived only moments before the family returned from their outing to the Roman Forum.
As the rest of the family headed up the stairs, the butler quietly handed it to him, saying only that a courier from Conte Russo’s procuratore had delivered it.
“He was instructed to wait for a reply,” he whispered.
Donald broke the wax seal and unfolded the parchment, frowning when he was forced to decipher a masculine scrawl that seemed to have been written in an ancient form of Latin.
He let out a sigh when he reached the end. “Where is the courier?” he asked.
“In the kitchens,” the butler replied. At Donald’s look of surprise, he added, “He wishes to court the scullery maid.”
Donald arched a brow. “Wait ten minutes and bring him to my study.”
“Sì, signore.”
“And ask my father to join me there.”
“Sì, signore.” The servant hurried up the stairs as Donald headed for his study. He wasn’t even seated behind his desk when his father appeared at the door.
“You’ve had word of the girl? Already?”
Donald lifted a shoulder. “I may have employed a bribe to expedite the issue,” he admitted. “Otherwise it may have been weeks before we learned anything.”
“And?” Will prompted.
“Russo and I share the same procuratore here in Roma,” Donald explained.
“Essentially a solicitor. Yesterday I sent a footman with an inquiry as to Russo’s estate, specifically the terms of his will as it relates to Donna Nancy and our intention to take her on as a ward should there be no close relatives.
” He held out the parchment. “If I’ve interpreted the language correctly, and I’m not sure I have, I think Donna Nancy is set to become your ward,” he replied.
Will’s eyes widened before he turned his attention to the legal document. “So soon?”
“No close heirs, so one to contest the issue. Russo’s last will and testament merely stipulates the amount of the girl’s dowry to be set aside for when she marries.”
“It appears the conte was in debt?” Will asked, his brows furrowing as he struggled to read the document.
“Not a surprise. Most aristocrats are, at least for part of the year,” Donald acknowledged.
“Russo was better off than most. There are unentailed vineyards on Sicily and his villa here in Rome that should cover the debt when they’re sold.
Beyond that, everything else belongs to the contea, which would go to the equivalent of the Crown if his cousin cannot be located. ”
Will nodded and turned his attention back to the document. “There is a reference to Latium?” he questioned.
“The region which includes Roma,” Donald replied. “The laws vary somewhat from those of the Kingdom of the Two Sicilies, of course. Latium is a papal state, but his only property here is the villa.”
“Montblanc’s estate is covered under Sicily, isn’t it?” Will guessed.
Donald nodded. “For now.”
Will grunted when he finished perusing the parchment. “Am I mad to take on the orphaned daughter of someone I’ve never even met?” he asked rhetorically.
Donald chuckled softly. “You would be mad not to, given Mother’s position on the matter, and you’d be doing me a huge favor.”
A knock at the door had Will turning around. The courier stood on the threshold, directing a curious gaze first at him and then seemed relieved upon seeing Donald.
“Tell the procuratore William Slater, Earl of Bellingham, has agreed to become the legal ward for Donna Nancy.”
Will pulled a calling card from his waistcoat pocket and handed it to the courier. “My address in England is here,” he murmured.
“Also inform the procuratore that her dowry is to be delivered here when the estate is settled,” Donald went on.
“Delivered to you?” the courier asked, his surprise evident.
“To me. Donna Nancy is to become the Marchesa Montblanc no later than her nineteenth birthday.”
His eyes wide, the courier nodded. “Si, signore. I will tell him.” He bowed and backed out of the study.
Will whirled around and stared at his oldest son. “The Marchesa Montblanc?” he repeated. “He’s only eight years old. A bit young to be choosing a bride, is he not?”
“He’s the Marquess Montblanc, and he’s quite adamant on the matter,” Donald countered.
“It may never actually happen, and I would never be that father so presumptuous as to arrange a marriage for his titled son—nor the ward you’ve just agreed to take on, but…
” He sighed as he shook his head. “Antony has claimed she is to be his wife since he could first talk.”
Will chuckled. “Saves me the cost of the girl’s come-out,” he said, grinning.
“I’ll let you be the one to tell Mother that,” Donald warned, a smirk forcing his dimple to appear. “Do you wish to do the honors with Donna Nancy?”
Inhaling deeply, Will said, ‘I think I shall let Barbara be the one. Antony can translate for her.”
“Although I’ve already agreed to annual trips to England, perhaps you can bring her to Rome or to Catania on occasion,” Donald suggested.
His father lifted a shoulder. “I’ve already been informed we’ll be returning on occasion,” he said. “Especially since you keep giving us grandchildren.”
Donald cleared his throat. “Shall we go up and tell our wives the good news?”
“Indeed,” Will replied, although he gave his son a curious glance as they made their way up the stairs.
A few minutes later, shouts of excitement filled the second floor of Villa Montblanc. Tears of joy soon followed. While their husbands welcomed the news and seemed glad for Barbara and Will, Diana and Helen were especially happy to learn they would have a new cousin.
Only one person seemed perplexed by the news, although he had to wait for David’s return before he put voice to his query.
“If Nancy becomes your sister, does that mean she will be my zia?” Antony asked of David, his voice quiet in the general ruckus that had erupted around them.
The viscount knelt down on one knee and considered the query for a moment. “I will think of her as my sister, and your father might do the same, but she will never truly be your aunt,” he said. “Is that all right?”
Antony allowed a sigh of relief. “This is good, because I could not marry my zia,” he said in all seriousness.
David chuckled. “You already know you are going to marry Donna Nancy?” he asked in surprise.
His dark brows furrowing as if he thought his uncle was teasing him, Antony said, “Sì. Don’t you know who you are going to marry?”
Opening his mouth to give a vague response, David quickly swallowed his answer. “Do I?” he asked rhetorically.
Antony fisted one hand and punched him on the shoulder. “You will marry Cugina Vittoria.”
Allowing his foot to go out from beneath his knee, David tumbled to the floor of the corridor and stared up at the ceiling. “From the mouth of babes,” he murmured with a chuckle.