“My brother.”
“I’m confused. If your brother is here, why can’t he interpret for you?”
“Robert is ill, in the hospital. I have to act for him,” she explained.
“But you came here on your own. Your father permitted such a thing?” he probed.
He reached for another roll.When did this impertinent man eat last?
“My father couldn’t—no, wouldn’t—come when Robert wrote asking for help,” she explained. “He sent me as his surrogate.”
“So he ordered you to come a thousand miles alone to lecture his son on the error of his ways?” the major asked in between bites.
“Not ordered! Permitted. He has his parish to shepherd. Who could have come with me?” Her father actually tried to stop her, but she left for Rome on her own. The memory made her temper snap. “I’m no schoolroom miss. I can take care of myself,” she insisted.
“You’ve managed without difficulty?” The major looked skeptical.
“Yes!” Nora knew she answered too quickly.
The major raised an eyebrow, and she felt her face warm.My troubles with the ship and the sailors are none of his business. I managed them.
“Language is a barrier,” she admitted, but he knew that much already. “That’s why I hired you. Difficulties have been trivial. Robert’s man of business found me rooms and managed to convey me there with signs and gestures. The landlady…” She hesitated.
“Landlady?” he prompted.
“Speaks broken English. She tried to make me uneasy. She claimed there were men lurking at the door, but I think she just wanted me to hire a relative as a guide. I refused.”
His deep brown eyes widened when she mentioned lurking strangers, but he said only, “Wise. You wouldn’t want a guide you don’t understand. Didn’t your father think you would need protection?”
“He assumes my virtue to be its own shield! His widowed daughter—plain and practical Eleanora—wouldn’t need protection.” The words tasted as bitter in her mouth as the Italian coffee.
The major, to his credit, ignored that outburst. Instead he asked, “Wasn’t he concerned about his granddaughter?”
Nora felt her heart stutter. She took a deep breath before answering. “He doesn’t know about her.”
The major looked puzzled, waiting for more. Desire to protect Robert’s privacy warred with urge to confide in someone. As her interpreter, he would find out soon enough.
“My niece is Italian,” she began, “and Catholic. Robert kept his marriage secret.”
The shabby major appeared to think that over. “What will your father do with an Italian granddaughter?” he asked at last.
“Deny her. Force conversion. God knows, but it wouldn’t be pleasant. Robert must protect her from that.”
“Does your brother wish her to live in England?”
“Not in Dorset, not near Father. Perhaps in Italy, but he wishes more for her than the convent school.” Nora knew that much with certainty.
“And her Italian relatives?” he asked.
Nora shrugged. “I don’t know. My late, heretofore unknown, sister-in-law was an orphan but from a large extended family.” Robert had once implied there was more, but Nora didn’t know any names or places. “What they wish is unknown to me,” she said.
“Would they take the child in? That would solve your problems,” he suggested.
“Robert seems reluctant about that. He hasn’t said why. I think he wants to make sure someone he trusts will see to it that she is loved, as well as cared for.” When Robert first told her about the girl, Nora had warmed at the thought of having a child to care for. Now she vacillated between hope and fear, neither of which accomplished anything useful.This shabby major doesn’t need to know my pathetic hopes.
The major’s thick brown lashes veiled his eyes as well as he veiled his thoughts. “Are your brother’s wishes in writing?” he asked.
“I don’t know. He pressed a scrap of foolscap into my hand the first day.” She rummaged in her reticule. “It has an Italian name on it. He said that if he died I should contact this man.” She held out the foolscap for him to see.
