Page 19 of Betrothal Between Enemies

‘It’s no wonder the people finally rebelled this summer.’ Alistair paused, a thought coming to him. ‘Was your family in any danger during that time?’ There’d been little news with details in it that had reached Florence, or perhaps he simply hadn’t been paying attention.

She shook her head. ‘No, one of the benefits of living on the Vomero Hill is that it’s remote. It also helps that the British in Naples favour the idea of unification. Fortunately, it didn’t come to choosing sides. The rebellion was short, barely ten days if you count the beginning on July second and then by July thirteenth the king had accepted a constitution, after which he fled to Austria and left his son, Francis, as the vicar-general.’

‘I’m glad you were safe. I don’t like thinking of your family or your home in harm’s way. Sometimes foreigners can be easy targets, regardless of sides.’

Ismay was quick to pick up on the grimness in his remark. ‘Is that what happened in Florence with your cousin, Hayes?’

‘Yes. Hayes and his wife, Evelisse, purchased a vineyard that a member of the Carbonari had been interested in as well, although not for winemaking purposes. He’d wanted it as an outpost for Carbonari activities. Retribution was exacted. And then Hayes and I exacted some retribution of our own.’

She nodded solemnly. ‘I am glad Hayes is safe. He was always kind to me.’ Then she grinned and nudged him gently with the toe of her boot. ‘Even when you were not. You were a horrid boy.’

‘You were a horrid girl.’ Alistair grinned back. ‘Always trying to steal my thunder.’ She wasn’t so horrid now. She was just lost, flailing in the deep seas of the world, trying to find a path forward before she drowned. Not unlike himself. It was not a comparison lightly made, and the realisation was a thunder-clap all its own, despite there being no sign of rain. There was only the rhythmic trickle of the fountain, and yet the discovery left him thunderstruck. She was like him. He fought the urge to reach for her hand. There was no reason for the gesture. There was no one to see, no one to gossip about his overfamiliarity and inappropriateness to help perpetuate the ruse. No reason except the need to feel connected to another.

Ismay cleared her throat in the silence. ‘It’s getting too hot for roaming around. Perhaps we should go see the house so we can tell Mother we did, and then I’ll take you to my favourite bookstore on the way home.’

The rest of the afternoon was for show. Alistair was on his best worst behaviour with the agent at the house. He cavalierly discussed money and dismissed the rather exorbitant price of the house as if he hadn’t a responsible financial bone in his body. ‘Of course, it’s not my money,’ he said more than once. ‘It’s my soon-to-be father-in-law’s.’ He made sure to make not-so-hidden innuendos about the size of the bed in the master’s chambers, and to his delight, Ismay did not disappoint, answering him smile for smile, laugh for laugh, until they had the estate agent blushing and ahemming behind his hand as he tried to lead the tour.

‘What about parties?’ Ismay asked the embarrassed agent. ‘We are excited to entertain. Card parties, gambling nights, we love a high-stakes card game. Don’t we, mio caro?’ She beamed mischievously, and Alistair suppressed a laugh.

‘We love high-stakes anything.’ Alistair grinned as the agent showed them the drawing room. Ismay was on her mettle.

‘That’s right, mio caro.’ She sailed in front of them, studying the room. ‘How many card tables could we fit in here? Seven, maybe?’ She pointed to a corner. ‘We could do a faro table there, and a roulette wheel between the windows.’

‘Maybe two faro tables,’ Alistair added. To the agent he said, ‘I once bet my carriage team on the spin of a roulette wheel.’

The agent, a small man with a moustache, seemed uncomfortable with the disclosure but was compelled to ask, ‘How did that go for you, signore?’

‘Brilliantly. I won. I went home with my horses and a pocket full of money. Bought my mistress emerald ear-bobs with my winnings.’ Alistair slapped the appalled man on the back. ‘Of course, I don’t have that mistress anymore. I’m reformed, thanks to my fiancée, here.’ But he was clearly not reformed in any way that mattered. ‘I would have thought high stakes would be appealing to you, signore, given that you have farmers who grow apple orchards on the slopes of an active volcano. That’s quite the risk, and I ought to know. Did I tell you that once I bet my grandmother’s ring on a hand of whist? I won, so you needn’t worry.’

On it went until the agent finally locked the front door behind them and bid them good afternoon. They were both in high spirits as they rounded a corner out of sight and collapsed against a building wall. ‘Oh, that was fun!’ Ismay wiped at her eyes. ‘You were positively awful.’

‘And so you were with all of your arranging of card tables, turning the drawing room into a full-time gambling hell. Inspired, my dear, inspired.’ The endearment slipped out unintentionally.

‘The agent will report all of that to my mother.’ Ismay laughed. ‘The poor man. I thought you’d give him a fit with your talk of wagers.’ She slid him a considering look. ‘Was that part real?’ Some of the joy of the afternoon prank faded. Silence stretched between them. ‘I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have asked. It’s just that effective verisimilitude usually contains a nugget of truth.’ She broke off. ‘I’ve been too inquisitive. Once more, I didn’t know when to stop.’

She was rambling in her regret. He did not want her feeling as if his flaws were her fault. ‘Not at all. You have nothing to be sorry for, Ismay. I just find that I’m embarrassed to admit the truth to you. Yes, both of those wagers were true. In retrospect, I’m not necessarily proud of them. They were years ago, though, if that helps.’

‘Well, they did come in handy today.’ Ismay tried to save face for both of them.

‘They did,’ he said soberly. ‘If you’re wondering about the emerald earrings, that was true, too. I am no saint, Ismay.’

She smiled, aquamarine eyes glinting. ‘But you gave an apple to a starving boy in the market today. Your account is balanced with me. Today, at least.’

‘What about tomorrow?’ Alistair found he was reluctant for this day to come to an end. Then he groaned. He couldn’t ask for another day off. Tomorrow, Lord Danton was coming to the warehouse to discuss business. ‘I’m not free in the morning, but perhaps in the afternoon?’

‘Perfect. You can come with me to the accademia. We are discussing volcanoes tomorrow. It should be an interesting set of presentations, and it will fit our ruse.’ If she was part of it, Alistair thought it most likely would.

‘My parents will not like that I am going,’ she added quietly.

‘Why not? Surely your education is a credit to them.’ Educating women was something he remembered the Roses being adamant about, growing up. They’d certainly lavished an extensive education on their daughter. She read Pliny among other things.

‘In private, yes. But it is a detriment for them to have a daughter who attends scientific lectures, who argues with men in public forums and wishes to pursue science herself. They’ve discovered such an attribute does not make their daughter marriageable.’

‘And it’s important to them, that you get married and settle,’ Alistair surmised. Lord Edward Ashford had taught them a lesson, too, along with their daughter.

She nodded. ‘As my freedom is important to me. An educated woman understands there are limitations to marriage. She gives up much, even her own identity.’

‘Your mother has made marriage into a personal success for herself,’ Alistair countered. ‘She composes. People take her music seriously.’