Chapter34
With These Rings
The following morning
Rising to the sound of a soft rain, Patrick stood from his bed and chuckled softly as he attempted to stretch.Although he was sore in several places, his memories of what had caused the minor aches and pains made it all worth it.
He rang for Giovanni and was pleasantly surprised when the valet appeared only a few minutes later.“You’re awake early,” he said to the younger man.
“My mother insists I wake before dawn,” Giovanni replied.“I have to help her with moving pots of water to the stove.”At his employer’s look of confusion, he added, “Today she does the laundry.”
“Oh, of course,” Patrick replied.“Tell me, what time are jewelry shops usually open here in Rome?Or perhaps I need to see a goldsmith,” he considered.
Pulling a top coat and waistcoat from the wardrobe, the valet paused to stare at him a moment.“Most have already opened,signore.”
Patrick gave a start.“Open until sundown, I suppose?”he guessed.“Closed during the midday?”He remembered how few people were out whilst he and Armenia had been touring the last fountain the day before.
Giovanni nodded.“As are most of the shops,” he agreed.
“Might you know of a nearby florist?”
His cheeks reddening, the valet said, “Around the corner.”He pointed to the south.“For your special lady?”
“Indeed.I know I mentioned it last night, but I do plan to be married soon.”
Shaking his head as he retrieved a cravat from a drawer, Giovanni said, “Sì,signore.”His brows furrowed.“Would your wife be moving in with you here?”
Patrick inhaled to answer and realized he hadn’t considered living arrangements.Armenia had a villa.One that she had lived in nearly her entire life, or at least when her family was in Rome.All he could offer were rooms in a building he happened to own, staffed by a housekeeper who possessed a poor opinion of her.“Whatever we decide, I plan to keep you on,” he said by way of assurance.
“And my mother?”
Lifting a shoulder, Patrick said, “I’ll still require a housekeeper here.”
“Very good, sir.”
Patrick couldn’t help but notice the sound of relief in the young man’s voice.
When he finished his breakfast, Patrick followed the verbal directions Giovanni had supplied regarding a nearby jewelry district.He headed southwest on foot until he reached Via del Pellegrino, managing to avoid the puddles left behind by that morning’s brief rain.
Tiny shops were lined up on either side of the thin street, matching arches above each entry on one side while the shop with the number he sought—14—was on the opposite side.His attention went to the stone blocks set in a decorative pattern above the door’s transom where the wordsGioielleria Herzelwere emblazoned.Above the main floor were another three stories of a building that included not only the jewel shop but several others.Shutters hung on either side of the windows, some open while others were shut against the morning sun.
The window adjacent to the door featured various pieces of jewelry on display, all set in gold.He admired a sapphire and diamond parure before ducking into the shop.
Once his eyes adjusted to the darker interior, he spotted a goldsmith in the back already at work.Shoulders hunched and an optical device strapped around his head, the man nodded in his direction and called out a welcome.
Patrick returned the greeting before he turned his attention to a glass-fronted display case.A black velvet tray behind the glass caught his eye.
A number of rings, all of them set in gold, were lined up from small to large.Some sported a gemstone while others were simply bands of metal.A few included engravings of leaves and flowers or a series of tiny letters.
Dumbfounded, Patrick stood and stared at the selection.Although he had come with the intention of simply choosing a wedding band, he realized he hadn’t considered there would be options.
“Difficult to decide, isn’t it?”
The words, said in English with a British accent, had Patrick giving a start.He glanced over to discover a young man staring at the same tray of rings, his arms crossed despite the brim of a top hat clutched in one hand.
“It is,” he agreed.He stepped back, his brows furrowing when he realized he recognized the man.“You were at the D’Avalos ball two nights ago,” he said.
“As were you.David Slater, Viscount Penton,” David said by way of introduction, holding out his right hand.
