A Chance Encounter (St. John Series Book 10)

by Lora Thomas

  “I told you, I went for a walk,” Madelena snapped.

  “I hope it was only a walk.”

  Madelena’s spine went rigid. “What are you implying?”

  “I am saying that Signore Drakos wants a pure virgin bride. Don’t ruin this for your sisters.”

  “How does my marriage affect them?”

  “The sooner you are out of this house, the sooner the men in this city will begin noticing your sisters. They all seem infatuated with you. They come calling on Angela and spy you. Their interest in my darling Angela is turned to you.”

  “I hardly think it is my appearance that makes the difference.”

  “What are you saying?” Sandra snapped.

  “I am saying that Angela’s personality would cause the devil to run in fear.”

  “You vile, nasty creature! How dare you speak of your sister in such a fashion!”

  “It is the truth. Both you and Angela have been nothing but cruel to me for as long as I can remember. If you are unkind to your own blood, then imagine how you are with others.”

  An evil sneer pulled Sandra’s thin lips. “You are a thorn in my side. But you will not be for long. Signore Drakos’s representative will be here in a week.” The sneer turned into a vindictive smile. “Along with the woman who is to check for your purity.”

  “What?!”

  “Drakos wants a pure bride. He is sending a midwife of his choosing to make certain that you are a virgin.”

  “I won’t do it!”

  “You will! I am your mother, and you will do as you are told.”

  “Father will not allow it!”

  In a slow, icy voice, Sandra informed, “He already knows.”

  Madelena’s mouth dropped, and her complexion paled. “He can’t.”

  “He does and has agreed.”

  Madelena shook her head. “He would never allow such a thing to happen.”

  “He would. He knows the importance of this marriage and will do anything to make certain it will happen. Your purity test will happen in a week. You will remain in this home until then.”

  “No. Papa purchased me dresses to wear to Carnival.”

  “You will not be going. Angela will take your dresses.”

  “She will not,” Antonio said from the doorway.

  A startled gasp left Sandra as she turned to view her husband. “Husband. We must ensure her purity. Carnival is full of wickedness.”

  “That may be. But I promised Madelena she could go and have purchased her two dresses along with matching masks for the occasion. It is the least we can do before her marriage.”

  Antonio locked eyes with Madelena. Pain hit the center of his chest at the amount of rage he saw in her brown eyes. It hurt him to allow this marriage to take place. But what other choice did he have? Sandra had his balls in her hand. He would never allow her to ruin Madelena’s reputation. She meant too much to him.

  Antonio cleared his throat. “Now, Signore Marino has invited us to dinner. Wear something appropriate for Signore St. John and Signore Mortilini will be there as well. St. John’s father owns Emerald Shipping and is here on a holiday. Mortilini is in search of a bride. Perhaps one of my lovely daughters will catch one of their eyes.”

  Sandra clapped her hands together enthusiastically. “Splendid! Both men would be a fine match for Angela or Flora. Perhaps one for each!” Her gaze landed on Madelena. “Don’t ruin this for them.”

  “Don’t worry,” Madelena replied with scorn. “I do not plan on going. Enjoy your food and fine wine. I find that a dinner party where any of my family are present leaves a bitter taste in my mouth.” She stormed to the doorway to the kitchen and stood before her father, glaring up at him. “I have nothing more to say to you.”

  Antonio stepped to the side, allowing his daughter to breeze past him with cool contempt. When he returned his attention to Sandra, he could not help but notice her smile. It was like a cat moving in for the kill.

  “I am so glad she has finally taken you off that pedestal that she had placed you on,” Sandra sneered. “You can now feel her contempt. How does it feel knowing that the person that you love more than life itself now despises you?”

  Antonio took a step towards Sandra, causing her to take a retreating step back. “I will have my vengeance against you, either in this life or the next.”

  “It will not be this life for if you lay a finger on me, all in Rome will know of her true heritage, and she will be cast out. She will be left with nothing, and you will be ruined. Tell me, what do you think the cardinal will say when he learns that his trusted magistrate had a child with his mistress while swearing to the world that he would love and cherish only his wife? You will be ruined.”

  “Remember, Sandra. If I go down, so do you. This life of luxury you live will no longer be within your grasp.”

  The sneer she gave caused Antonio to wonder what she had planned. “I have taken precautions. Just know that I have taken the necessary steps to secure the survival of my children, not yours.”

  Antonio clenched his fists at his side, fighting the desire to strike his wife with his fist. Just one strike and he could be rid of this woman once and for all. But he would not take the risk. He loved Madelena too dearly to take the chance that Sandra’s words were not idle threats.

  “Prepare yourself,” Antonio growled, turning from his wife. “We leave within the hour.”

  “An hour! That is not nearly enough time for Angela, Flora, Maria, or Bella to prepare themselves.”

  “I really do not care.” Antonio left his wife and went to his own chambers to prepare for the evening meal and hopefully come up with a plan that would keep Madelena safe from his vengeful wife.

  Chapter Eight

  Scanning the room, Oliver’s eyes watched Signora Marino buzz about the place. For a woman nearing sixty, she was beautiful and active. She flitted around the room like a hummingbird seeking prized nectar. Each flower arrangement she passed caused her to pause and then rearrange a stem. She stopped before the mantel and motioned for a servant. The young girl came forward carrying two pineapples. Signora Marino placed the pineapples upon the mantel and tilted her head. She shook her head and rearranged the fruit again until they suited her.

  An odd tradition—pineapples upon the mantel. The displayed fruit had a twofold meaning. First, it was a symbol of hospitality to those who lived in the southern portions of America. Those who entered a home displaying the pineapple were welcomed guests who could partake in the merriment. Because of the rarity of having the fresh tropical fruit, many southern homes had brass sculptures of them on display. But here? Well, it just seemed odd; however, Signora Marina was from Georgia and apparently still held onto her heritage. And secondly, it was a status symbol. A symbol of wealth for it was quite expensive to ship in fresh pineapple. Sparse supply and high demand made the pineapple a status symbol. The distance the fruit had to travel was a hardship for they were known to rot before delivery unless one had access to the swiftest ship and perfect weather conditions. Even candied pineapples were for the wealthy.

  “So good of you to be joining us this evening Signore St. John,” Augustus Marino said, grabbing Oliver’s hand and shaking it with vigor, bringing Oliver away from his observation of Signora Marino.

  “You have Signore Henshaw to thank for the invitation. I am merely an uninvited guest tagging along,” Oliver replied as he studied Marino.

  Marino was an older man with a youthful gait to his step. He was tall and of average build. The salt and pepper hair upon his head was an odd contrast to his youthful complexion. Not one wrinkle could be found. His brown eyes had a twinkle of mischief. Rough calluses adorned his hands, indicating that he enjoyed working with wood just as much as Oliver did.

  Marino’s boisterous laugh captured the attention of Mortilini.

  “What did I miss?” Mortilini asked as he approached.

  “Stephano!” Marino answered. “Come, you must meet the uninvited guest.”

&
nbsp; Mortilini offered a hand in friendship which Oliver eagerly accepted. Mortilini was just as he expected. The man before him was a few years younger than Oliver. He was of average height and stout of stature. His eyes were as black as his hair, yet there was warmth to them.

  “Hello,” Mortilini spoke.

  “Hello,” Oliver returned.

  “Stephano Mortilini, this is Oliver St. John,” Marino spoke. “Oliver’s father owns Emerald Shipping. Signore St. John, this is Stephano Mortilini.”

  “Is that so?” Mortilini said.

  Oliver was taken aback that the older man knew of his identity. “I am shocked that you are aware of who I am.”

  Marino patted Oliver upon the shoulder. “Young man, it is my job to know who is afoot. A carpenter is always aware of another in their profession in the city.”

  “Martin told you.”

  “That he did. I was speaking to him only moments ago, and he was praising your work. Now, he tells me you build ships.”

  Oliver nodded and grabbed a glass of wine from the tray of a passing servant. “I do.”

  “How many?”

  Oliver sipped his wine. “I have assisted in building many and have been the master carpenter on four.”

  “Impressive,” Marino said.

  “Indeed, it is,” Mortilini said.

  “Not nearly as impressive as your vineyard. I hear it is the best in all the world,” Oliver baited Mortilini.

  Pride lit up Mortilini’s eyes. “I hope to be. But for now, it is only in Italy and France.”

  “You know, I do have connections in the shipping industry. Why not venture east? Many wealthy families reside in the Caribbean.”

  “I do say, are you trying to negotiate a shipping contract with me, Signore St. John?” Stephano asked.

  Oliver gave a twitch of his head. “I would do my family a great dishonor if I didn’t at least try.”

  Stephano laughed.

  Oliver continued, “Albeit, I am not the salesman of the family. So if you should ever run into my brothers, please do not mention this transaction—unless I am successful, that is.”

  Stephano’s laughter continued. “I shall consider your offer.”

  “Splendid!” Oliver replied.

  Marino joined in on the conversation. “I tell you what. If Mortilini ships with you, then so will I.”

  “Truly?”

  “Absolutely. In fact, how about this transaction…I am willing to use Emerald Shipping to ship a few of my best pieces to England. If they do so in a timely manner, then I am willing to do so again…if the price is right.”

  “Martin will be thrilled to know this. He would be the one you need to discuss rates with. I am merely the man who makes the ships.”

  Mortilini was not to be outdone. “I will use you to transport my wine. The Caribbean is an excellent location to try to sell my products as well as the Americas. If your company delivers them and I make a hefty profit, then I will ship exclusively with Emerald Shipping.”

  Oliver raised his glass to the two men. “Then let us toast to the occasion.”

  Three glasses clinked together.

  “What did I miss?” Martin asked.

  “Signore Marino and Mortilini have agreed to use Emerald Shipping. I will leave them to you to discuss the details of fees and all that.”

  Martin looked between the men. “You’re joking?”

  “He most certainly is not. On a temporary basis, that is. Depends upon the profits to be made.” Marino downed his drink and set his glass down upon a passing tray, taking another glass of wine in the process. “Now, gentlemen, let us drink to our transaction. But do not consume too much.” Looking at Mortilini, he smiled. “I spent a fortune to purchase this young scamp’s wine for tonight.”

  A servant appeared in the doorway and announced that dinner was ready to be served. The guests present made their way into the dining room where a large table sat that could hold at least thirty. Signore Marino took the head while his wife sat at the opposite end. The guests sat where they pleased, and to Oliver’s mortification, Russo and his wife sat to his left and one of their daughters to his right. He glanced at Martin, who only cringed but did nothing in the way of helping the situation.

  “Signore St. John,” Russo spoke.

  “Signore Russo.”

  “I would like to introduce you to my wife, Sandra, and my daughter Flora.”

  “The pleasure is all mine,” Oliver politely replied.

  “They say you are from the Caribbean,” Flora spoke.

  Oliver turned his attention to the young lady. She looked like her mother with brown hair and eyes. A scattering of freckles across the bridge of her nose looked odd considering their size. Yet, she seemed kind and not the least bit flirtatious like the sister who boldly took the seat next to Stephano.

  “I am. Eleuthera to be exact in the town of Governor’s Harbour.”

  “And your family is in the shipping industry?”

  “Yes. We own Emerald Shipping. All of my brothers and sister have some part in the family business.”

  “And what of you?” Flora asked. “What part do you hold in your family business?”

  “I am a master carpenter. My twin brother, Owen, is a draftsman, and I build them.”

  “What’s a draftsman?”

  “He designs the ships.”

  “You seem awfully young to be a master carpenter,” Antonio said.

  “I am twenty-eight and it may be young to some, but I have been a carpenter for as long as I can remember. When I was just a boy, I would go to the shipyard with my father and watch the men work. I remember sneaking down to the shipyards and begging the workers to allow me to assist. When my father learned, he was furious for he had dreams of me being something other than a laborer. I begged him to allow me to help, and he agreed. Yet I was not handed my position. I had to earn it. I started out as a caulker and made my way up.”

  Russo nodded. “Wise man. A man needs to earn his way in this world and not be handed a silver spoon.”

  “My father’s thoughts, as well. All of my brothers had to prove their worth for their positions. Even those who are captains had to work their way up the ranks.”

  “How many are captains?” Flora asked, her brown eyes wide with curiosity.

  “I have nine siblings. Three are captains.”

  “And the others?”

  “One is the financial officer. The London and South Carolina offices are run by my two older brothers. Another brother operates the Nassau office along with security. And I have never fully understood my sister or her husband’s roll in the family business other than he writes correspondences.”

  Sandra sat patiently listening to the conversation, trying to decide if he was a better match for Angela or Flora. After hearing him describe his work, she decided that her first instinct was correct. Flora would be a good match for him. She liked to wait on people and having a wealthy laborer for a husband would mean he would return home tired.

  “How did your family’s business begin?” Sandra asked. “I mean, I had never heard of Emerald Shipping until Antonio recently spoke of them.” The lie rolled off her tongue. Owning and operating a shipping company required lots of money, and that money had to come from somewhere.

  “My father left England to prove he was more than his title.” The instant the statement was out of his mouth, Oliver could have kicked himself.

  “Title?” Sandra said, nearly salivating on the words.

  “He is the Earl of Hyntington.”

  “An Earl.” Sandra’s eyes widened with delight.

  “Yes. His title will go to my oldest brother.”

  “Hmm.” Sandra’s mouth twisted in disappointment.

  The servants brought forth the dinner, and Oliver turned his attention to his plate. Flora kept a polite conversation going with him; however, she seemed more interested in the butler, and the feeling seemed to be mutual—which was fine by Oliver. Hell, the butler could bed her on the
table for all he cared. Perhaps it would get the notion of their marriage out of Signora Russo’s head.

  “When did you arrive in Rome?” Flora asked.

  “Two days ago.”

  “And when do you plan on leaving?”

  “I am not certain. Martin insists I enjoy all of Carnival first. Have you ever been?”

  Flora’s eyes widened even more—if possible. “Heavens yes! It is delightful. Although Mama only lets me go during the daytime. The nighttime crowds can be somewhat naughty. But I am certain Madelena has been at night.”

  “Who is Madelena?”

  “My sister,” Flora said, slight agitation in her tone. She finished off her glass of wine and motioned for a servant to fill it again. If Oliver counted correctly, this was her fourth glass, and from the way she was speaking, she could not handle her liquor very well. “She is Papa’s favorite. Mama doesn’t care much for her. Madelena is the most beautiful of us all! But Mama treats her like she’s a servant. She has her cook and clean. Why she even placed her chambers in the upper room of the house.”

  She definitely could not handle her liquor. Her tongue was running loose, and Signora Russo seemed to notice.

  “Flora,” Sandra hissed in such a shrill way that the hairs on Oliver’s arms stood on end. “Silence.”

  Flora looked shamefully at her plate.

  Sandra took Antonio’s arm and pulled him in, whispering fiercely into his ear.

  “Not now, Sandra” Oliver heard Antonio scold.

  “Esteemed guests,” Marino said, pushing his chair away from the table. “Let us adjourn to the drawing-room where we can hear the musical talents of my daughters.”

  As the chairs were pushed away from the table, Signore Russo approached Signora Marino. A few moments later, Sandra and Flora disappeared. The guests proceeded to the drawing-room where Marino’s daughters took up their instruments: the pianoforte, flute, and violin. After several songs were played, the women stopped and began socializing with the guests. Oliver was mindful of Martin’s warning about the sexual prowess of the women. They were beautiful. However, he had just managed to procure a contract with Marino, and he would not jeopardize that. Shortly after her departure, Signora Russo returned without Flora.