“Putting you at the mercy of another Italian,” he mumbled, taking the foolscap. The major looked at the name and cursed softly. “And a high class one at that.”
“That is not your concern!” She snatched back the note.This pathetic excuse for a major has no right to criticize Robert!Curiosity pushed her to ask, “Is he important?”
“Beaumont’s legal representative? Prestigious but not political,” he said. “Expensive. Your brother must have money. What will you do?”
He would have discovered Robert’s wealth eventually, but Nora wished desperately that he actually cared. She knew his real question:What do I have to do to earn my keep?
“I have no idea about the future,” she said. “For now, I wish only to get acquainted with Isabella and to assess the situation for myself.”
“That’s where my services come in?”
“Yes, Major, precisely. I must have accurate information. My own guesses are inadequate.”
“We are to visit the child, speak with the sisters, and gather information?”
He understands my needs accurately,she thought.How hard can this be?
Chapter Three
Money made most tasks bearable. Jamie thought the hefty purse in his pocket would make the task he had accepted easy. An hour later, he thought differently.
The smell of death, the trappings of wealth, and the hostile glare from the man on the bed all signaled trouble Jamie didn't need. The little bird had led him to a hospital, not a convent.
She introduced the patient as her brother, Robert Beaumont. Any pleasantry from Beaumont's initial greeting to his sister disappeared when he looked at Jamie.
“This is Major Bently, Robert, an English gentleman. I’ve employed him to assist in interpreting.” The little wren’s knuckles turned white when she gripped her reticule.
Her brother’s face, white as the crisp linens on which he lay, folded into a frown. “Is that wise, Nora? Father?—”
“Is in Dorset. I have no choice,” she insisted. “I need assistance so I can make the arrangements you wish for Isabella.”
Beaumont's dull gray eyes assessed Jamie with implacable distaste for several long moments. Beaumont might have been sick, but Jamie felt his eyes circling him like those of a predator, looking for any sign of weakness.
“Your sister is in Rome without protection. I’ll endeavor to give her what assistance I can,” Jamie said, holding his ground.
The patient looked away first.
“Protection? Utter nonsense!” Jamie’s flustered employerblurted out. “I can take care of myself. I will learn Italian quickly. For now, I need help if I’m to look after Isabella.”
Jamie glanced at the door. He considered returning the money but thought better of it. He had already given half to his landlord on his way out. Besides, Beaumont, he guessed from the looks of the private room and level of care, could afford him even if his sister could not. The man lay dying. His disapproval mattered little.
“Perhaps it would be best if I understood the situation fully from your point of view, Mr. Beaumont,” he said.
Beaumont shrank into the linens.Resignation didn’t sit well with this one. I wouldn’t want to do business with him,Jamie thought.
“My problem is my daughter,” Beaumont rasped. Jamie leaned close. “She is in the care of the sisters who staff this place. They also have a small school—more of an orphanage, I fear. I placed her with them after my wife died when it became clear that I, that is—damn it, obviously I could not go on caring for her.”
“Robert cared for her himself until he became too ill.” The little bird ruffled her feathers to ward off criticism.
Jamie made an impatient gesture. “Your defense does you credit, but that doesn’t help the current situation.” He turned back to Beaumont. “Your daughter is well cared for at present, but you are concerned for the future?”
“Yes,” Beaumont said. “I don’t wish her to be raised in a convent school.”
“I don’t understand the problem. Can’t your sister simply remove the girl at your say-so? Surely the language barrier can be breached that much.”
“It isn’t that simple.” Beaumont closed his eyes, and Jamie leaned still closer. “My wife was Italian. We were married in her church. I converted, Major. I am Catholic. My father doesn’t?—”
“Approve?”
