“I will need a culprit to give the police captain to satisfy him,” I said. “Gian and de Luca’s cook are innocent and should be set free.” I paused, sifting through an idea I’d had while resting in this chamber with Donata. “Gian knows that house better than any you will ever find. Let him help you sort through the things. The job will go faster, I imagine.”
Trevisan’s face pinched, but he nodded. He wasn’t a fool. “It will be as you say. I have no small influence in Rome. I will make certain the men are released.”
“It would have been so easy for a passing thief to find his way into the house, especially if Gian had forgotten to lock the door,” I said pointedly. “He found it open in the morning, he said. Perhaps he could be persuaded to be uncertain whether he’d locked it before he departed to visit his friends.”
Trevisan only stared at me, but I thought I saw a modicum of respect flicker in his eyes. “This is what must have happened. I will explain to the police captain.”
He began to bow as though ready to depart, but I cleared my throat. “One more thing, if you please.”
Trevisan’s good will was quickly evaporating. “What is that?”
“The Proiettis,” I said. “They would feel the loss of their daughter if you took Gisela with you. I believe you have had a similar experience.”
“It was not the same,” Trevisan’s voice went icy, he the chilly aristocrat once more.
“I know it was not. Gisela would be alive and well but so far away from them. They are a close family.”
Trevisan’s brows drew down, his mouth a sour line. I would never know if Trevisan had meant to marry Gisela, or only adopt her, or merely have her become a companion to his mother. His grief was deep, and he might have wanted to sink himself into her sunny nature and try to find healing.
My idea that he’d taken her in to cloud the real reason he’d come to Rome was a wrong one. Trevisan had needed Gisela to ease him, and I imagined he’d decided to damn the scandal. Pain made one’s judgment murky.
“I will think on it,” Trevisan said, shutting himself off from me. “Your man wishes to remove you now. I think you must go.”
“Yes.” I struggled to my feet, shaky and weakening. “That would be best. Good night, Conte Trevisan.”
“Goodbye,” he’d said firmly, and then left me. I’d not seen him from that day to this.
I swam back to the present to rejoin the discussion. “I am pleased that you and Gisela are reunited,” I said to the Proiettis.
“And I.” Proietti rose. “I came to thank you, Captain Lacey. If I had not run straight into you in the street that morning, I might be without my daughter forever. Instead, she is coming home to me, and I have employment so that I can pay my loyal servants’ wages.”
I met him in the middle of the room and shook his hand. I worried that he would embrace and kiss my cheeks as his countrymen did, but he seemed to remember that I was an awkward Englishman and contented himself with the handshake.
Signora Proietti also regarded me with admiration. Behind her, Donata smiled wisely and kept her silence.
The morningafter the Proietti’s visit, Denis summoned me. Grenville and Donata were busying themselves packing—Grenville would shut up this house, and we’d return to the villa two days hence, which suited me.
Grenville and Donata held the opinion that I was not quite healed and should rest, and truth to tell, I longed to cease my adventures. While I was interested in what would happen to the contents of de Luca’s house and the fates of Gian and the cook, I knew they were in good hands with Proietti and Trevisan. I wanted the peaceful spring I’d come to Rome for, and to spend time with my daughters and my son.
Denis’s note was as brief as always.
Bring the statue to me, and I will reimburse your expense. Denis.
I retrieved the alabaster Cupid in its leather bag from my wardrobe and strode north through the streets to Denis’s large, hired house. I walked because the day was sunny yet pleasantly cool, and in spite of Donata’s and Grenville’s beliefs, I felt quite well, better than I had in a long while.
Once I’d learned of Gian’s freedom, I’d instructed Bartholomew to hie to de Luca’s house and give Gian the equivalent inscudosof one hundred guineas. I also made certain Bartholomew brought back a receipt of the transaction. The Cupid statue had not been part of what Bonaparte had stolen. According to Gian, Bartholomew said, de Luca had spoken the truth that it had been in the family for a long while.
Armed with the statue, I headed north. Brewster, as always, was my shadow.
“You’re chuffed today, guv.”
“I am.” I swung the bag a little. “Illness makes me realize what a blessing is good health, and the city today is beautiful in the sunshine. A villain will pay for his crimes, and innocents are freed. This does make me chuffed.”
“No more running around ruins then?” Brewster sniffed. “’Tis dangerous to this good health you love so much.”
“Nonsense. I will take Peter and Gabriella to see Pompeii, but this time, I will be the guide.”
Brewster muttered something in reply, but I ignored him.
