“Find out. What about the others?”
Jamie told him what he knew. Giovanni spoke of the delegation often, as did one of the others who wandered in and out. Luciano never mentioned it.
“What do you know of this Giovanni’s background?”
“Nothing.” Wentworth must know little also or he wouldn’t ask.
“Find out.”
“I agreed to pass on what I happened to overhear. I did not agree to probe.”
Wentworth gave him a pointed look and went on as if he hadn’t spoken. “We need to know who is in the delegation and then we need as much information about them as you can pry out of them.”
Jamie let the man think he had won. Jamie would continue as he had been until Nora and Isabella were safe and secure in the guardianship. Then he would leave and to hell with Wentworth and the information he needed.
“When will paperwork for Mrs. Bently’s guardianship be filed?”
“I understand you mislaid Mrs. Bently’s niece,” Wentworth responded.
“Isabella is safe at home and none of your business,” Jamie retorted.
“My dear Major, that child is a relative of Castellimonte. That makes her of very great interest to his majesty’s government.”
Heat rose up Jamie’s neck, and he stopped himself from leaning over the desk. He suspected his face looked very much like Eduardo’s, the petulant schoolboy. For a few moments all he could think about were the ways he would like to put an end to Wentworth’s useless life.
“Come, come, Major. Don’t look daggers at me. Of course we are interested in the child. We don’t want her used as leverage to move her great-uncle to actions he might not otherwise wish to take.”
Unless, of course, it is you who is wielding the lever.Wentworth’s description of how Isabella might be used matched Castellimonte’s so closely Jamie didn’t believe it could be a coincidence.
“Touch her and I will kill you,” Jamie said through bared teeth.
Wentworth looked genuinely taken aback. “Me? I desire the child’s safety as much as you do.” Jamie doubted that preposterous statement. “You have peculiar ideas about what I might do.”
“I believe you might do almost anything if you thought it promoted what you see as England’s good.”
“Quite right,” Wentworth said. “And that will never include harm to a child. Can you say the same?”
“What do you mean?”
“You find yourself in a comfortable position, sharing a house with Beaumont’s sister, dining with the cream of Roman society. Is the child’s well-being your primary concern?”
Jamie might be a worthless scoundrel, but he had grown fond of Isabella. Still, he admitted to himself that the child would not be his first concern. He knew with sudden clarity what was: Nora. Isabella made Nora happy, and that made her vital to Jamie’s happiness.
“Of course it is,” he croaked over the lump in his throat.
“We can help,” Wentworth said. “We have sources of intelligence.” He waved his hand vaguely. “Friends and so on.”
“I’ll keep that in mind. However, my family is my responsibility. I’ll thank you to remember that. File the papers.”
Wentworth’s sudden smile pushed Jamie off-balance. “Your family?” he repeated, emphasizing the word with amusement. “Of course it is yours to protect. We wouldn’t want it any other way. I believe Archie Campbell plans to file on Mrs. Bently’s behalf soon.”
Wentworth’s knowing smile and sharp eyes followed Jamie out. They lingered in his memory all the way to Palazzo Savoia.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Wat returned with Isabella at precisely three that afternoon. Nora spent over an hour practicing language with the girl. They spread picture books on a table set up in the courtyard and sat side-by-side on a stone bench covered with down cushions. Isabella taught Nora the Italian words; Nora taught Isabella the English.
“Pink.” Isabella repeated Nora’s words. “The flowers are pink.”
