“Busy racing horses?” Portly joked.
“Busy about trade and the business of Sardinia,” Castellimonte said, but he steered the conversation to horse racing.
Jamie sank back into silence. At least now he had something for his report to Wentworth. He let his mind drift back to Nora.
“What do men talk about?”Nora asked, rounding a stair onto the landing closest to the palazzo nursery. It had seemed safest to bring Isabella with them. The count sent an escort to bring them and return.
“What do they discuss? The weather!” Jamie answered, pulling her into an embrace and nuzzling her neck.
“Jamie!” Nora tried to wiggle free, but he captured her mouth. Heat engulfed her, and she sank into him. The kiss lasted longer than she intended before she finally gave a gentle shove.
“Not here,” she whispered.
“Wait until I get you home,” he whispered back. He let her go with a great show of reluctance.
They walked in companionable silence toward the nursery, both too absorbed in images of the night before and thoughts of the night to come.
Nora doubted that the fire that raged between them could last. It must sink from conflagration to glowing ember eventually. She thought she might love embers just as much.
Jamie stopped abruptly at the nursery door. Voices echoed fromthe high-ceilinged room. He put out a hand to hold her back and cocked a head to listen. Nora understood much of it. Her Italian improved daily.
“So little princess, you didn’t need rescue?” the one called Luciano asked.
“Of course not. Amelia was just a silly girl. Aunt Nora said so. I am Savoy.”
Laughter greeted that. Isabella’s giggle rose above the deeper voices. She obviously enjoyed extending her little drama.
“Remember that Isabella. You are Savoy. Servants do as you say.”The unpleasant one. Eduardo, Nora thought.
“Stop filling her head, Eduardo.” A familiar woman’s voice broke in. “Her aunt will not thank you.” True enough. Nora did not want Isabella to grow up without any sense of respect for her fellow man.
“Why should I care what the English aunt thinks?” Eduardo sneered.
Jamie looked grim. When he pushed the door open, stunned silence greeted them.
Isabella had been lifted to the top of a desk. Luciano leaned on one side. Eduardo stood next to him. In the far corner, another young man sat on a window ledge and looked up from his book. Nora tried to recall the name of the studious one.Giovanni, that’s it.
The presence of an older woman shocked Nora. Signora Capello clustered with the little group by the desk, her lips pursed tight, her hands clasped in front of her.
The maid who had been pressed into nursery duty by the count’s staff fluttered over to Jamie, spewing Italian words too fast for Nora to understand. Her tone sounded defensive. Jamie nodded and dismissed her. The woman scuttled off.
“So, she tells me you came up to practice your English. Did I understand that correctly?” Jamie asked the young men.
Luciano and Eduardo looked at one another. Eduardo shrugged.
“I suggest you do so then. I didn’t hear any when I came in.”
Jamie turned to Signora Capello. “Is there a reason why you leftCasa Beaumont unattended?” he asked acidly. He looked from her to Eduardo.
“Hardly unattended, Major. Your Wat Jones prowls the place like a wild beast,” the woman sniffed. “A message arrived for you.” She reached into a pocket and handed him a folded vellum packet with a wax seal, like the one that had arrived the night of their wedding.
Jamie looked at it sourly. “It would keep until I got home,” he said, examining the seal pointedly. Nora kept her curiosity to herself with effort.
Capello had the grace to look uncomfortable. “I am sorry if it offends you, Major, but I took the opportunity to visit my nephew.” She indicated Eduardo with a nod. Jamie looked hard at the young man until he raised his chin and stared back.
“In the future, you might arrange your visits with Mrs. Bently,” he said, turning his attention back to Capello. “I don’t know your custom, but in our world, servants, even upper servants, arrange such things.”
“Yes, Major,” the woman said through stiff lips.
