“What if I don’t?”
“Then you will manage. You are strong and good, Nora. You can manage.”
“I may have to. Castellimonte has challenged my guardianship.”
Mother Margarita gaped at her. “Why on earth? The old fool!”
“Perhaps he sees me as an abandoned wife. He liked Jamie. I’m not sure he ever warmed up to me.”
“Nonsense. That patriarchal old reprobate may not be particularly warm, but he admired you as soon as you stood up to him. He likes that.”
“Yes, but he still insisted on the marriage.”
Mother Margarita had no response for that. She appeared to ponder for a moment before asking, “Are you certain the state of your marriage is the reason for the challenge?”
Nora let out a long sigh. “No,” she said, “I don’t know what to think.”
“I will see what I can find out. Perhaps my cousin Barnabas can look into it, although he is somewhat preoccupied lately.” MotherMargarita worried her lower lip. “I may not be able to reach him. You know you have my prayers.”
Nora smiled at the idea of that old dear attempting to help. “Thank you, Mother. I appreciate your support.”
The older woman patted Nora’s hand sympathetically. “We may not find out in time. What will you do?”
If Jamie were here, he would know what to do. If Jamie were here, there might not even be a problem.He was not. She would have to manage the thing herself.
“What will I do? I will fight, of course. Isabella needs me, and the court must be made to see that. I will take on the count, the court, and the Pope himself if I have to. Robert left Isabella in my care, and care for her I will.”
A wide smile spread across Mother Margarita’s face. She sat back and beamed.
“You think I’m a fool?” Nora asked warily.
“I think you are a warrior. You would march into hell for Isabella.”
At the sound of her name, Isabella’s head bobbed up from the flowerbed. She grinned at Nora, and Nora smiled back. They had become family, and no court could change that.
Chapter Thirty-Nine
“What do you mean there’s been another delay?”
Nora looked at the three men—Campbell, Wentworth and Salvia—arranged awkwardly in her drawing room and hoped the outrage she felt made its way through their thick heads.
“Why is Robert’s will being heard in the Rota Romana?” she demanded for good measure. “I thought that was an ecclesiastical court.”
“In the Papal States, it is all the same. The Rota is the only court of law for all matters,” Wentworth explained with pursed lips, wary eyes, and exaggerated patience.
“Can’t we object?” she demanded.
“Goodness, Lady Ross, one can’t object to being heard in the only court of law,” Campbell blurted out.
“Not to the venue,” Nora corrected impatiently, “to the delays. Can’t we object?”
“One does not ‘object’ to the proceedings of the Rota Romana,” Salvia advised her. “These delays are not unusual. Roman legal procedures move slowly. The auditors want more time to study Robert’s will and the challenge.” He had explained that auditors presided over the court, not judges.
“Why can’t I just appear and state my case? Surely these men can see that the child is better off with her own aunt!”
“That would be ill-advised,” Wentworthtold her. “A woman can’t just appear before the Rota. We will present your case in due time.”
Nora sputtered in outrage.
