“Dear Kitty,” Constance said, taking the older woman’s hand in hers. “Your home ismolto bello, and its view of the sea makes me yearn for my cottage on the cape back home in America.”
“Thank you, my dear Constance,” Kitty said. “I hope you’ll avail yourself of the enchanting walking paths surrounding Nido dell’ Aquila, or perhaps you would like to ride? We have some splendid horses.”
“That sounds divine,” Constance enthused.
“Yes, I think a lovely walk is in order tomorrow,” Blossom added in her lilting French accent. “Do you know when the marquess and marchioness will arrive, and the chief inspector and his wife?”
“Yes, I received a telegram from them this morning stating they will arrive Saturday,” Kitty replied. “The foursome enjoyed a few days together in Paris and will travel together here.”
“Excuse me if I digress from this quaint exchange,” the baroness, whose given name was Donatella, interrupted, “but did I hear correctly, dear Constance? Were you robbed of an Allegretto painting?”
Jack had noticed that the baroness had perked up when she heard mention of the stolen painting. Constance turned to regard the baroness with a bland expression, but Jack glimpsed a gleam in her eyes, easily missed if one weren’t paying attention.
“Yes,” said Constance with a sigh, “it was a harrowing experience, something I would rather not speak of. To have one’s home invaded is quite unsettling. Naturally, we have increased our security measures. One must always be vigilant in these matters.” She reached out and patted Blossom’s hand. “Blossom can attest to what a difficult time it was for all of us, including my friend and former companion Jenee, who is now married to the chief inspector. You will meet her on Saturday.”
“How dreadful for you, not to mention the loss of such a valuable work of art,” Donatella tutted before taking a dainty sip of her tea.
Jack noted a tense undercurrent between Constance and Donatella. He wished Gaby was here, as he felt sure she would have noticed it too. Heck, he wished he could slip away to the kitchen and coax her into his arms.
Instead, he bit into one of the cream-filled pastries and almost groaned as he imagined licking the custard off her breasts. He swallowed and took a gulp of tea, trying to control the ever-present urge that had plagued him since he’d set eyes on the luscious, dark-haired siren.
He glanced at Cynthia perched next to the baroness, nibbling on a biscuit. He probably should ask her to go for a walk at some point.
He inwardly sighed at how his life had come to this. How foolish and naïve he’d been to trust his cousin to watch over his father.
Jack shook off his morose thoughts as he focused on the conversation.
“You might know of the fate of another Allegretto,” Stefano said. “The third painting in the series,Il Letto, is rumored to be hidden somewhere in Tuscany. It was stolen from the Uffizi Gallery in Florence in 1737, shortly after the death of the last Medici, Grand Duke Gian Gastone. He died without heirs, ending the family line. A shame, indeed, but it enhances the mystery surrounding the missing painting and the unfortunate end of such an illustrious family.”
“How mysterious,” said Kitty. “I do love a good mystery, don’t you, Jack, dear?”
“Er, yes, but I have enough to do with the upcoming exploration of the Etruscan tombs at Populonia.”
“Oh, I had no idea,” Constance said, setting her teacup down. “What a fascinating vocation you have, Jack. I should like to know more about your archeological work.”
“Indeed, I would be happy to enlighten you.” Jack smiled.
“That gives me a tremendous notion,” Kitty piped up. “I’m certain Jack would be happy to arrange an outing. Perhaps a picnic at the excavation site?”
“Yes, that could be arranged,” Jack replied.
“And you could show us the tombs. You’re always telling me about the necropolis and the city of the dead.”
“Dead?” said Cynthia. “Oh, I don’t think I’d want to see any dead people.”
Jack struggled not to cringe. “I will look into it first thing tomorrow,” he said. “I think an excursion is a fine idea.” He turned to her. “I can promise you there won’t be anything to fear, Cynthia. But if you are uncomfortable, you may remain here and enjoy the sun and fresh air in the garden.”
The baroness cast a disparaging gaze at Cynthia. “Don’t be ridiculous, Cynthia. You need to take an interest in everything Lord Langsford does. For it is the foundation of a happy relationship.”
Cynthia looked down, acquiescing to her aunt’s chastisement. “Of course you are right, aunty. I spoke without thinking.” She glanced back at Jack, a smile hovering on her mouth. “I’m sure it will be safe with you there.”
“Good—then we will plan it for the day after tomorrow,” Jack replied. “I think the other guests will find it interesting too.”
“Yes,” said Aunt Kitty. “I will speak to Gabriella about our plans. She’s our new chef and has hands of gold, as Stefano will testify. In fact, I will invite her to join us.”
Donatella’s eyebrows spiked up to her hairline. “You’re going to invite a cook to socialize with us?”
Aunt Kitty cast a frosty look at the baroness. “And why not? This is the twentieth century, after all. Gabriella D’Angelo is an intelligent, charming, and educated young woman. A trained gourmet chef who stepped in, thank heavens, to cook for us due to our cook’s recent and unexpected indisposition. Gabriella also hails from America, and I am certain Constance will appreciate a fellow American joining us.”
