“I see.”
She doesn’t see. Isabella’s family can squash Nora Haley like a bug. Jamie knew they could also unravel his carefully protected anonymity with the stroke of a finger. He had to wiggle out of his commitment to accompany his employer the next day.
“Mrs. Haley, I don’t think we want to encounter Castellimonte just yet,” he said. “Perhaps we could skip tomorrow’s visit.”
“Absolutely not!” His employer raised her stubborn jaw.
A smile played on Mother Margarita’s lips. “A problem, Major Bently?”
“What time does the count visit? Will there be a conflict?” He prayed there was.
“Not at all,” the little nun said. “He visits at the noon hour.” Panic subsided. The man and his retinue would be gone by three.
“What, Major? Please tell me what she said.”
“No conflict, Mrs. Haley. We can come at three.”And not a damned minute earlier.
He suppressed a temptation to shout a warning about Castellimonte. She paid him to interpret. Neither she, nor her niece, nor thegirl’s family politics were Jamie’s problem. He owed her a month. He could stay out of sight that long.
“Isabella must know her family.” Nora Haley’s melodic voice had steel in it. “Both sides. Tell her.” Her lower lip thrust firmly over a chin so stubborn Jamie pitied the man who crossed her. “Tell her,” she repeated.
He did. Mother Margarita nodded approval, murmured goodbyes, and slipped silently back into the cloister. The woman, who denied the commands of counts, appeared to favor neither family.
His wren watched the commanding nun disappear into the inner sanctum without flinching.
“The Piedmont?” she whispered several moments later, still staring after the woman.
“The Piedmont is one part, the mountains. The entire thing is designated ‘The Kingdom of Sardinia.’”
“Isn’t that an island?” She stared at the closed door as if she could will Isabella back.
“Sardinia itself is,” Jamie answered, “but the island isn’t the power center. Piedmont is the ancestral holding of the House of Savoy. Savoy rules Sardinia from their mountain strongholds.”
“And this count?” she spat. Turning to look at him now, attention was hot in her eyes. The brave little bird, both wise and foolish, was taking stock of her enemy, a sleek and ravenous wolf.
“The count is Savoy. Your niece’s great-uncle is the king’s cousin.” He kept his voice flat and followed her to the gate.
“Damned aristocrats,” she mumbled.
Black humor twisted Jamie’s gut in response to Nora Haley’s anti-aristocratic sentiments.God help me.What would she say if she found out she had hired a bankrupt baron?
“Isabella’s family rules Sardinia and the Piedmont?” she went on without noticing Jamie’s reaction.
“Yes.” He didn’t add that Savoy ruled Genoa also, thanks to the Congress of Vienna, and all the lands bordering France as a reward for successfully navigating between Napoleon and his enemies.Devious is the word for Savoy. One little widow poses no challenge to them.
She paused at the gate. “We’ll see her tomorrow.”
“Yes, Ma’am,” he agreed. But don’t count on the day after.A shudder ran down Jamie’s spine, and he fought the temptation to bolt.
Chapter Six
At least the major didn’t bolt, Nora thought. He had been tempted. She was sure of it. She actually feared he would abandon her when she saw panic in his eyes at the end of the first visit to the convent. She had no idea what had spooked him. He came the next day, however, and for each of the four days after.
Nora watched for signs of drink when he met her, rumpled and scowling but on time. She found none. Pallor and a slight tremor when she took his arm seemed to indicate lack of drink rather than a surfeit of it.
They met daily at the little café on the Trastevere side of the bridge. She couldn’t visit a single man’s room; that first day had taken all her nerve. She certainly didn’t want her employee in hers. The sensible solution had been to meet between the two.
Perhaps the food keeps him coming, she thought wryly. Nora fed him every day at noon. As usual, the major came on time and tucked into his luncheon with enthusiasm.The man does like his food.
