Nora opened her mouth to reply, but the old man overrode her.
“This child is Savoy. Her interests are ours,” he declared.
Nora studied the haughty face but found no sign of warmth.
“You have come to Rome to visit your brother,” the count continued. “You are new here. You cannot be expected to understand.”
Understand what?Nora opened her mouth to speak again, but the count stopped her with the raise of an imperious hand. He leaned back to confer with Ferret Face who stood behind him to the left.
She tried to hold her gaze on the dour old count and his minion, but her eyes strayed over and over to Isabella who teetered, twisted her hair, and stared down at them. Nora longed to hug the child. Isabella’s gaze, however, focused on Major Bently. She shot daggers at him as if to demand that he rescue her.
“The little one is not happy with us,” he whispered in Nora’s ear. Nora glanced back. The major watched the count steadily and refused to meet the little girl’s eyes. “She doesn’t like him much.”
“Can you make out what they are saying?” Nora asked.
“Not well, but Ferret Face seems to be filling him in on our activities.”
Behind Nora’s back, Isabella finally slipped from her seat, with a loud thump. At her cry, Nora rose from her seat.
The count clapped his hands with a crack so loud Isabella jumped and stopped wailing.
“Enough!” he barked in Italian. “The child will go back to Santo Spirito.”
Nora sputtered, but the count overrode her in impeccable English. “The child will go back.”
A young maid picked up Isabella to carry her out. The little one opened her mouth, looked at her great-uncle, and closed it again, sullen but resigned.
Nora sank back onto the little bench.
“Sit, Mrs. Haley. Chin up. Stand your ground,” the major said softly. “There’s my girl.”
“He speaks English,” Nora whispered while the maid escorted Isabella out.
“Of course he does, the old wolf.”
The count’s voice boomed down. Nora managed not to jump at the sound. “You may visit her there at three. That is permitted.”
My visits do not require your permission.Mother Margarita didn’t need the count’s permission. On the other hand, she thought, the nun had not been able to prevent him from bringing Isabella to this audience.
“Of course,” Nora said firmly, “I always do.” She held his gaze. She would not show weakness before him.
When the door closed, the count waited a full minute for total silence.
“Now we will deal with this matter,” he said. “You have affection for this child. That is natural. You are a woman.” He didn’t make it sound like a compliment.
“She is my family, my lord,” Nora said as calmly as she could.
“She is of the House of Savoy and of Castellimonte,” he continued in English. His look challenged her to deny it.
“Every child has two families,” she retorted. Nora refused to shrink away. Pride held her voice steady and her spine straight.
The count assessed her more keenly, and Nora felt the major’s hand come to her shoulder. She hadn’t needed him to translate after all, but his presence kept her steady.
“She is Savoy. She will remain at Santo Spirito until she is sixteen. I will arrange a good marriage for her.”
“She is only a child!” Nora exclaimed. The major’s hand, warm on her shoulder, held her in her seat.
The count glared at the interruption. “As you say, she is merely a child, and a girl at that. It is for her elders to decide what is best.”
