Lorenzo grimaced. Nora snickered.
Sabrina started to stand. Her legs wobbled violently as if molded from Jell-O. “Cramp. Ow.” Lorenzo’s arms encircled her and steadied her. She breathed deeply for several seconds, waiting for it to pass.
His grip is so gentle. I can smell his cologne and mud. Such a manly scent. He can pull just about anything off.
“I’m not a runner and my body knows it.” She hung her head. “It’s going to be a long walk back to your flat, Nora. With my jelly legs, I’ll probably have to take a taxi as close as we can to the building entrance. Thank goodness you’re on the ground floor.”
Nora cupped Sabrina’s cheeks with her hands. “You’ve done me a tremendous service today. The Guaneri is safe because ofyou. Don’t be embarrassed. In fact, you should be rewarded.” Nora tilted her head and made eye contact with her brother. “Something like the Order of the Lion would be fitting.”
Lorenzo grunted, taking on more of Sabrina’s body weight as she took a step backward.
She turned her head over her shoulder. “Sorry.”
“Stop. Apologizing.” He cleared his throat. “Leonora is correct. The Order of the Lion recognizes a service one has performed on behalf of the crown of Isola Nostrum. That violin was made for our family in sixteen eighty-eight. I’d say rescuing it more than qualifies.”
That violin is older than the United States. I knew it was antiquated, but not that old.
“Uh?.?.?.”
Nora patted her hand. “You can try and refuse it, but give me a week and I’ll change your mind.”
Sabrina bit her tongue. “How about you just consider me even for the cases of wine I broke last month?” She rested her head on Lorenzo’s chest, then stiffened. He kept his attention on his sister. She changed subjects. “So, any ideas about how we’re going to get home?”
Lorenzo reached into his pocket and checked the time on his mobile phone. “The scooter rental near the garden’s entrance is still open. I can pop over and arrange to rent one.”
Nora rolled her eyes. “And how will a scooter fit three of us and a violin?”
Lorenzo smirked. “A sidecar.”
“No,” Nora said firmly.
“And let’s see you come up with a suggestion.”
“Guys, wouldn’t it be easier to ask one of the Carabinieri over there?” Sabrina asked.
Both siblings’ heads popped up. They blinked, and Nora chuckled. “Si. It would be.” She straightened her dress, her violin swaddled in her arms. “Wait here, I’ll be right back.”
“We won’t move,” Lorenzo promised.
Nora confidently strode over to the two policemen.
Sabrina sighed. She was alone with Lorenzo. She watched him keep an eye on his sister, and through the thin fabric of his shirt, felt his muscles tense with worry.
Sabrina touched his forearm. “Lorenzo?”
“Hmm?” He glanced down at her.
“I, um?.?.?. just?.?.?. wanted to say thank you for the stunning necklace and book. I should’ve said how much I appreciated them earlier.”
His forehead creased. “You’re welcome.”
“May I ask how and where you managed to findThe Language of Flowers?”
He pulled at the top button of his shirt and lowered his chin. “There is a small shop in London near Oxford Circus that specializes in rare first-edition books. The manager has a reputation of being able to find anything. I put in a request, and within a week, he’d managed to find a pristine copy of the book.”
He’s embarrassed.
She slowly assembled the pieces of the puzzle together.
