Lady Hadley crossed to Ethan, hands outstretched. “Mr. Penn-Leith! How delighted we are to welcome you.”
“Lady Hadley,” he bowed.
“Lady Isolde has invited some friends up from London.” Her ladyship took his arm. “Permit me to make introductions.”
Ethan dutifully followed in Lady Hadley’s wake, nodding and smiling amiably.
But The Swooner was strained today, Allie noted. Ethan performed the requisite niceties without any of his usual sparkle.
And aside from that first glance, he avoided Allie’s gaze.
“Your Scot appears a little worse for wear,” Kendall murmured in her ear. “I wonder what has tarnished him so. Did someone criticize his poetry? Mock his smile? Terrorize his cat?”
Allie gritted her teeth.
“Must you always be so disagreeable?” she whispered.
Kendall grunted.
They both watched as Fabrizio greeted Ethan.
“Mr. Penn-Leith,” Fabrizio said in heavily-accented English. “Such a pleasure to finally beproperlyintroduced.”
Fabrizio’s eyes darted meaningfully to Allie as he spoke, taunting.
Beside her, Kendall let out a heavy breath.
“And yourself, Mr. Sacci,” Ethan replied, voice giving nothing away.
“Your poem about thebanditi, the highwaymen, in Italy has been a success here in Britain, no?” Fabrizio asked. “You shall have to tell us about it.”
Ethan’s smile turned even more strained. “I believe the poem says all that need be said.”
“And yet, you are beingmolto riservatoin hiding the lady’s identity. Who is she? The English ladies in Italy . . . they are not many. Perhaps I know her?” Fabrizio’s eyes flicked Allie’s way as he spoke.
Honestly, the man was about as subtle as a stagecoach horn.
Charswood, on Allie’s other side, stirred to life. “I must say, Mr. Sacci, I do not like your line of questioning. Mr. Penn-Leith has been a gentleman in refusing to divulge the lady’s identity. Perhaps you should follow suit and respect her privacy.”
Fabrizio swung his gaze toward Charswood. “Perhaps. But the lady is a criminal, is she not? She robbed Mr. Penn-Leith and others of their money and possessions. Perhaps it would be bestper tuttito know her identity. Who is to say she isn’t currently robbing other members of theton?” Fabrizio framed that lovely jab with a cherubic smile.
“At gunpoint?” Kendall scoffed. “I fear you have an Italian flare for the dramatic, Mr. Sacci. Does Mr. Mazzini approve of you spending your time investigating literary gossip?”
“How charming.” Fabrizio narrowed his eyes at Allie’s twin. “Your mother was Italian, was she not, Your Grace? Perhaps you have something to hide?”
It took all of Allie’s self-control to bite her tongue and not respond in a stream of blistering Italian.
Kendall merely gave Fabrizio his icy, ducal stare. The one that said he did not suffer fools.
“Charming, indeed,” he intoned, tossing Fabrizio’s own word back at him.
The entire conversation felt like a chess match. Each player jockeying for position. Though Allie was unsure if she was the queen in this analogy or an easily-sacrificed pawn.
Regardless, the exchange with Fabrizio had garnered attention. Every head in the room had turned their way.
“I must agree with Lord Charswood,” Lord Hadley said, tossing his hat into the ring. “’Tis a wee bit gauche tae be attempting tae ferret out the lady’s identity, Mr. Sacci. Let’s let the topic rest, shall we?”
Fabrizio bristled at Hadley’s paternal tone, like a cat with its fur standing on end.
