Chuckling, Patrick said, “Well, she is the daughter of a conte.But a shrew?”He suddenly sobered.
“What is it?”David asked, his dark brows furrowing at seeing the change in Patrick.
“Prior to her come-out ball, Vittoria was apparently only seen in the company of her parents and her aunts,” he explained, remembering what Armenia had told him.“She’s probably lived a rather sheltered life as an aristocrat’s daughter, but she has been raised to be a proper young lady.Although she’s not yet betrothed, she knows what’s expected of her, especially if she ends up the wife of an aristocrat,” he continued.“She’sDonnaArmenia’s niece,” he added.
“Great niece,” David corrected him.“She is my sister-in-law’s niece.”
Realization dawned as Patrick stared at the young man.“Your sister-in-law is the Marchesa Montblanc?”he asked in awe.
“Indeed.My brother, Donald, married her a couple of years ago.”
Patrick scoffed.“How is it a Brit would even knowDonnaMontblanc?”
David seemed to consider how to respond before he said, “Well, they met eight years ago in Catania...”He shrugged.“Donald was near the end of his Grand Tour at the time.When her father promised her to another, they pledged their undying love, and Donald returned to England, heartbroken, of course,” he said dramatically.He rolled his eyes.“He didn’t tell any of us what had happened until a fortnight before we set off on our Grand Tour—when he learned Montblanc had died and insisted he hurry to be with Nicoletta,” he explained.
“That’s quite a tale of young love.”Patrick narrowed his eyes.“So...if you don’t intend to propose toDonnaVittoria, pray tell, why areyouhere?In a jewelry shop?”he asked, waving to the tray of rings.He had to suppress a grin at seeing how the shopkeeper was staring at them.She probably couldn’t understand everything they had been saying, but from her widened eyes, she obviously recognized the names they had mentioned.
David reached out and lifted a gold band topped with a sapphire.“I like to be prepared,” he replied, examining the jewel in the light from the candle lamp.“And you?Who will be wearingyourring, if you don’t mind me asking?”He turned his attention on Patrick.“The woman you were kissing in the Pantheon?”
Patrick cleared his throat.“That is the hope,” he replied.“DonnaArmenia, in fact.”
“D’Avalos?”David asked in surprise.
“She is the one,” he acknowledged.
The gasp that sounded in reply didn’t come from David, and both he and Patrick turned to stare at the shopgirl.
“Mi scusi,” she said, her face reddening with embarrassment.
“Why did you react so?”Patrick asked.From her blank expression, he realized she didn’t understand his query.David repeated his words in Italian, and she dipped her head.
“Abbiamo sempre pensato che Donna Armenia fosse una zitella.”We have always thought Lady Armenia a spinster.She aimed the rest of her comment to Patrick.“Lei merita un brav'uomo.”She deserves a good man.
Although he didn’t understand her every word, he nodded when he sorted the sentiment.“Grazie.”He pointed to the tray of rings.“Hai qualche consiglio?”Do you have a recommendation?
Without pausing, she lifted an oval ruby-topped gold band from the tray.“Rossa,” she stated.“Il suo colore.”Red, her color.
Patrick reached for the ring and examined the setting.
“Those are diamonds,” David remarked, pointing to the gems set on either side of a rather large oval ruby.“And that ruby is...remarkable,” he added in awe.He replaced the sapphire ring he had been holding and plucked another ruby-topped ring from the tray.
The cushion-cut gemstone wasn’t nearly as large, and its setting lacked the diamonds on either side, but its color was exquisite.It would make an exceptional betrothal ring.
“I’ll take it,” Patrick stated, offering the larger ruby ring to the shopgirl.“Uh...quanto?”
“Don’t pay more than two-thousand,” David whispered, his attention still on the smaller ruby ring he held.
The girl pulled a tiny tag from the tray and held it out.Patrick and David both leaned over, but Patrick pulled out a pair of reading spectacles and settled them on his nose before he studied the tag.
1750.
He nodded.
David watched as Patrick pulled a purse from his waistcoat, his eyes widening as the older man dumped out the necessaryscudi romanicoins.“Do you always carry that amount of blunt on your person?”he asked in surprise.
“Not usually, no,” Patrick replied with a chuckle.He nodded toward the ring David still clutched between a thumb and forefinger.“Is that forDonnaVittoria?”
David scoffed.“I haven’t yet decided.”
