As for the reason for their walk, she was reminded of it when they approached the fountain located in the middle of the piazza.“When you said you wished to see four fountains, it’s rather unfair we came here first,” she remarked.Piazza Navona featured three fountains, evenly spaced out along the long, narrow plaza.
“I’ve only visited the Fountain of the Four Rivers,” he replied, using the English name for the Fontana del Quattro Fiumi.“So the other two will be new to me.”He pointed in the direction of his office and lodgings.“I live in a building just there,” he added.
She followed his line of sight and frowned.“You rent space?”she asked, wondering if she might know his landlord.
“I actually bought part of the building,” he replied, stopping before the section of the fountain dedicated to the Nile River.The man depicted in the statuary bore a remarkable resemblance to paintings of Moses.“The ground floor has my office as well as one for my secretary, and I live in the upper floors.”
Armenia gave a cursory glance in the direction of the ornate fountain, the carvings by Bernini so familiar to her, she could recite all four rivers—the Ganges, the Danube, Rio de la Plata, and the Nile—even though she hadn’t actually seen any of them in person.In the center was a Roman obelisk topped with a bronze bird.
“Do you employ servants?”she asked, moving to stand before the side of the fountain dedicated to the Danube.The statue of the muscular man portraying the river was turned toward the obelisk, apparently because Faith was said to be descending on the world from the obelisk.
“I must,” he affirmed.“I have a young man who sees to my clothing, and his mother, who is my cook and housekeeper.”
“Convenient,” she commented, moving to the side of the fountain depicting the Rio de la Plata, its statue appearing awestruck by Faith since it was unknown in its part of the world.
“Indeed.Although I do wonder as to how many people know everything there is to know about me around here.”He waved to indicate the surrounding area.
She paused before completing the circle around the fountain.“What do you mean?”
“I rather imagine Signora Ricci enjoys exchanging gossip with the other housekeepers in this area.Perhaps even with yours.”
Inhaling softly at hearing the familiar name, Armenia removed a glove and reached out to dip her hand in the water.“No doubt,” she said, pretending nonchalance.Perhaps the Signora Ricci he employed wasn’t the same Sophia Ricci who had at one time been a housemaid in Villa D’Avalos back when her brother, Enrico, was still alive and master of the house.Been employed and then dismissed when it was discovered she was with child.
How long ago had that been?Twenty years, at least.Mayhap twenty-five years.As for who had fathered the child, Armenia didn’t know, nor had she ever asked.She had learned long ago that when dealing with her older brother, she couldn’t believe half of what he told her.
Despite her efforts to keep her private life unknown to the servants of Villa D’Avalos, Armenia knew they shared gossip when she entertained a member of the opposite sex, even if it was only for a coffee or a meal.As to how far that gossip extended, she had no idea.Gossip was a commodity in Rome, though, as important as news of business or politics.
“Do you know her?”Patrick asked.
The query pulled Armenia from her brief reverie.She shook the the water from her hand, as if she found it offensive.“If she is the same woman, Signora Ricci has worked as a servant for a number of households in this area,” she remarked.
“‘A number of households’ implies she’s either not a very good employee or she’s?—”
“A gossip,” Armenia stated.“Be mindful of what you say in her presence, and you should be fine.”She knew from his reaction she had said too much.
“Did she spread rumors about you?”he asked, his concern evident in how his brows furrowed.
Armenia lifted a shoulder.“Probably, but I learned long ago not to pay any mind to gossip.”
“Liar,” he murmured quietly.
About to deny his claim, she instead said, “Given Signora Ricci’s age...”She paused and did a quick addition in her head.“You will likely find her a loyal employee.She cannot afford to be relieved of yet another position.”Armenia placed her arm back on his, expecting they would resume their walk.
“How long have you known her?”he asked.
She lifted a shoulder and considered the query a moment.“Since long before I gained possession of Villa D’Avalos.”
“Gained possession?”he repeated.
She saw his look of humor and relaxed.“My brother gave it to the Marquess Montblanc as a dowry when he married off my niece, Nicoletta, to the marquess.Not even ten years ago,” she explained, her body quaking at the reminder of Enrico’s betrayal.
Villa D’Avalos had been her childhood home.Her refuge in Rome.For Enrico D’Avalos to have given it away as a dowry was unforgivable.He had gone to his grave knowing how angry it made Armenia.It also left the immediate family with property only in Catania.
“How did you get it back?”
She lifted a shoulder.“Montblanc gave it to me.In his last will and testament,” she replied.
Noting how Patrick stiffened at hearing the news, Armenia wondered about two things at once.Did Patrick assume she and Montblanc had been lovers?And was he jealous?
The oddest flutter in her chest had her inhaling softly.
