“She is,” Henry replied, but then stopped himself. “Well, not in the academic sense. She has studied it extensively on her own.”
Miles bristled. “Please tell me you don’t subscribe to the antiquated notion women shouldn’t be educated.”
“Of course not,” he said. “But she’s the daughter of a marquess, so antiquated notions were her method of upbringing.”
“Hmmm,” Miles grunted. “Backwards system,if you ask me, but I’ll be grateful for her knowledge, however it was acquired. I wanted to go to Greece, visit the foundations of democracy, but Alice insisted on Rome.” He gave a long-suffering sigh, but Henry heard the fondness in his voice. “Apparently there isn’t enough culture in Greece.”
“I’m sure Ellie will enjoy acting as a tour guide.” Henry cast a quick glance over his shoulder. She walked several paces behind him, Alice chattering happily into her ear. Ellie gave him a sweet smile before winking at him. Another potent dose of affection coursed through him.
“When Alex spoke of you,” Miles said cautiously, “he never mentioned you were married. In fact, he said you were somewhat of a…”
“Layabout? Good-for-nothing? Derelict? Scoundrel?” Henry was surprised by how quickly the adjectives came to him.
“Free spirit, is the term he used.”
Henry gave a low chuckle. His friend always held him in higher regard than Henry deserved. “I’ll admit to being a bit of a rogue, but I’m mending my ways.”
“Marriage will do that.” Miles hesitated before speaking again. “I wonder, though, why Alex failed to mention you had a wife.”
We’re caught. Henry’s reputation would not suffer, and he doubted the Richardsons had enough connections in London to cause a stir, but Ellie didn’t deserve any repercussions for his actions. “It’s very new,” Henry managed, rubbing his neck.
Miles gave him a long look but said nothing, and a sigh of relief escaped Henry’s chest. He could live in the fantasy of being Ellie’s husband for a bit longer, at least. But why did the idea of being her spouse, her partner in all ways, sound so damned appealing that he didn’t want their week to end?
Chapter 10
“Thisstuffisthenectar of the gods.” Miles lifted his small glass to admire the cloudy yellow liquid through the crystal.
He was precisely what Ellie expected a history professor from Harvard University would be: graying and partially bald, dressed head-to-toe in varied forms of tweed, and utterly secure in his belief that he had an inside source for all knowledge pertinent to mankind.
“You always say that, darling, but it always gives me a headache.” Alice glanced in Ellie’s direction, then rolled her eyes. Ellie had been immediately smitten by the Radcliffe professor. She was a legitimate female academic, confident in her position on one of the finest faculties in the world. “Sip slowly, dear,” Alice said. “It has a tendency to sneak up on you.”
The courtyard outside the Chiesa di Sant’Angese glowed, the granite paving stones reflecting the lantern lights hanging around the al fresco tables. The heat had finally subdued enough to bring all the residents of the square out to enjoy an evening’s respite. A man sat on the edge of the fountain playing folk songs on an accordion. Couples out for an evening stroll stopped and sang along before dropping a few coins and continuing on their way.
The small bistro across the plaza from their hotel had been bustling earlier in the night, and now the two couples were among the last patrons enjoying their meal. Waiters had cleared the seemingly never-ending parade of cured salami, delicate gnocchi, and seared fish ages ago, but the night was too beautiful to leave.
Ellie lifted her glass and examined the liquor with far more skepticism than admiration. “It’s like a cordial?”
Miles nodded. “Yes, one distilled with lemon peel. Refreshing, perfect for a summer day. I first sampled it in Sicily a few years back. It’s rare to find this far north.”
Henry sniffed his glass and wrinkled his nose. “It smells like my grandmother’s linen drawer.”
Ellie cast him a wry look. “Do you spend a great deal of time sniffing your grandmother’s linens?”
He snorted. “You wouldn’t dare speak ill of my hobbies, would you?”
Miles gave them both an admonishing glare and Ellie held back her giggles. Their new friend was taking this cultural experience with reverence and clearly expected the same from them. She gave Henry’s hand a brief squeeze. “Be kind, dear husband. Won’t you try it?”
“It’s a digestif, perfect for after dinner.” Miles lifted his chilled glass and Alice followed suit. Ellie copied the motion and gave Henry a cautious look until he lifted his glass to hers. “Salute!” Miles called before drinking his liquor in one swig.
“Alla nostra salute!” Alice bellowed, throwing back her drink. Ellie did the same, coughing as the bitter lemon burned down her throat.
Henry took a tiny sip, then tossed the rest in a flowering plant by his side.
Eyes watering, Ellie looked at her friend. “What does that mean?”
Alice beamed. “To our health! A traditional Italian toast.”
Henry smirked. “I doubt drinkingthatwould do anything to benefit our health.”
