She groaned. “Again?”
“You don’t like state dinners?” he grinned.
“What I like are our quiet evenings at home, just the three of us for dinner, and then the two of us here. Like tonight.”
Jamie’s smile reached deep into his heart. He preferred that, too, domestic contentment so strong he almost believed it was real.
“And Cook’s cakes,” he said, making her laugh.
The joy sank away. Contentment would last only until he fled. Better that than to have her show him the door when she found herself married to a renegade aristocrat.
“Perhaps our count enjoys our company,” he said, one hand on the door handle to her room.
“Do you think so? He seems to be genuinely fond of Isabella,” she replied. “I wouldn’t have believed it a month ago.”
“Perhaps having us is an excuse to spend time with her. She is expected also. The Palazzo nursery seems to be supplied with new books and toys.”
Nora laughed. “Who can resist our little charmer?”
“Who indeed?” he repeated.
He opened the door, swept her up into his arms, and carried her, laughing, to her bed.A few weeks pleasure will be enough, he thought, undoing the ties of her dress. He kissed his way down her back.It has to be.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Jamie didn’t particularly mind that protocol consigned both him and Nora to a spot well below the salt at the far end of Castellimonte’s table. The dinner proved to be larger and more formal than the last. Protocol kept him far from the pompous elders.
Nora sat surrounded by The Boys, who also rated the bottom of the table. Luciano sat on one side of Nora and Eduardo on the other. Jamie and Giovanni sat across from them, and two of Jamie’s occasional students sat at the very end. Jamie noted the shortage of young women at court. Nora had little competition.
Wentworth, at least, should be satisfied with the seating if he saw it. The man had little interest in the old men. He wanted to know about these young ones. Jamie’s heart sank. Young they might be, but he didn’t think they had any harm in them.
Nora set out to put each at ease initially. Giovanni maintained steady conversation, using the opportunity to discuss fashion and the weather in English, skills he would need in London. Eduardo’s attention directed itself up the table in any case. Jamie noted that the boy’s ambitions lay with the men in power. His glittering eyes followed every gesture and every word from Victor Filiberto. Jamie finally ignored Eduardo’s preening, and Nora gave up on him also.
As the dinner went on, Luciano began to be a nuisance. He flirted with Nora in both English and Italian. Subtle at first, his behavior become more forward with every glass of wine. TheItalian began to get much too warm for Jamie’s taste. Blessedly, Nora didn’t seem to catch the meaning.
“Tell me, Luciano, do you plan to join Giovanni in London?” Jamie asked, as much to take the puppy’s eyes away from his wife as to get the answers Wentworth wanted.
“Whada ya want to know?” the boy slurred. He shot a hostile glance at Giovanni.No, then,Jamie thought.
“No reason. What will you do when the delegation leaves? Will you stay here?” Jamie asked.
“Shuffle papers f’Caste’monte.” Drink made the normally cheerful Luciano an unpleasant table companion.
“What would you prefer to do?” Jamie continued.
Luciano waved his glass at a footman for a refill. Either no one had taught him manners or he lost them in a wine bottle.
“He prefers to be a farmer,” Eduardo answered for him. “His papa wanted an educated son. Here he is forced to learn English and”—he glanced at Nora—“become a man of the world.”
“Not farmer,” Luciano snapped, a bit too loudly. Giovanni looked embarrassed for him. “Wine maker. Hate the city.”
“I prefer the countryside also,” Nora said.
“English countryside?” Luciano snorted. “Not like my mountains.” Nora colored. Jamie wanted to throttle him.
“Do you dislike all cities or just Rome?” Nora asked.
Eduardo laughed. “This is the only city he knows—the only one that matters.”
