by Stella Riley
Two horsemen appeared to be heading for the house.
Kate strained her eyes.
The truth dawned slowly and took time to sink in. Then, ‘I should have known,’ she breathed. ‘As ever, dead on cue. Ah well … at least I’ll find out how mature I really am. And, with any luck, Meg will spit in the assassin’s eye.’
Once safely back in the house and already aware that she was in no hurry to go downstairs, she stalked purposefully off to the nursery. Then, without looking at Meg, she informed Gianetta that her brother was on his way to the door.
‘Oh?’ The dark brows rose suspiciously. ‘For what?’
‘To see you, probably,’ shrugged Kate. ‘Go and warn Mother, will you? I’ll be down when I’ve tidied my hair.’
Gianetta thought for a moment and then, with a glance at Meg, said flatly, ‘The fool. He has Selim with him, yes?’
Kate sighed and met the maid’s widened gaze. ‘Yes.’
‘Men!’ said Gianetta disgustedly. And swept out of the room.
Meg’s hands closed hard over the rim of her daughter’s cradle.
‘I … Miss Kate, I don’t want to see him.’
‘I’ll make sure you won’t have to.’
‘But what if he wants to see Eve?’
‘I’ll tell him he can’t,’ replied Kate. ‘In fact, I’ll enjoy telling him. Don’t worry. He won’t come near either of you. And I doubt, after this visit, that he’ll be in too much of a hurry to come back.’
* * *
By the time she had completely re-dressed her hair, contemplated changing her gown then decided that doing so might leave her open to misinterpretation, nearly an hour had passed and she was unable, reasonably, to delay further.
With the exception of Selim, of whom there was no sign, she found everyone gathered uneasily in the parlour. Dorothy looked mildly fraught, Gianetta stubborn and Celia frankly bored. Only Tabitha appeared pleased to see their visitor; but then Tabitha would probably smile just as sunnily at the devil himself.
‘Down so soon, Kate?’ The signor rose to greet her with his usual wayward smile. ‘You shouldn’t have hurried.’
She allowed herself to look at him. There was a suspicion of fatigue around his eyes and the exquisite black coat showed unaccustomed signs of wear … but otherwise he was just the same. Wickedly good-looking – and equally provoking.
She smiled back with killing sweetness.
‘How could I help it? I’d have been sorry to miss you altogether. And I don’t suppose you’ll be staying long.’
‘Now why should you suppose that? Wishful thinking?’
‘Not in the least.’ She avoided the necessity of offering her hand by moving to a stool and sinking gracefully down upon it. ‘I merely assumed that you wouldn’t otherwise have had the audacity to bring Selim with you.’
Luciano del Santi looked down on her with unbroken composure.
‘You’re too late. I’ve already been taken to task on that score by Gianetta and have arranged matters to the satisfaction of your lady mother. It’s a shame you missed it … but you’re left with nothing to do but greet me politely and say how delighted you are to see me again after all this time.’
‘Consider it done,’ said Kate shortly. ‘And tell us, instead, to what we owe the honour. Or have I missed that as well?’
‘No.’ It was Gianetta who spoke. ‘And if he comes to take me away, I tell him now I will not go.’
Five pairs of eyes rested on the Italian while he took his time about answering. Then he said pleasantly, ‘Your English has improved beyond recognition, Gianetta. I wish the same could be said of your manners.’
‘I don’t care. I don’t want to live with – to live in London.’
‘Tact at last,’ he marvelled. ‘It might be more to the point, however, to consider whether you’ve outstayed your welcome. Mistress Maxwell has been kindness itself – but she can’t have bargained on your visit being quite so prolonged.’
Dorothy immediately found herself impaled on a mutely appealing stare. And, because she had become rather fond of her charge, she said lightly, ‘My goodness, Signor del Santi – you can’t take her away now! Who’s going to supervise the nursery and dazzle any visiting soldiers into forgetting to ransack the house?’
Faint amusement bracketed the signor’s mouth.
‘I take it that means you’re happy to keep her – and not merely being civil?’
‘Civility? In this family? God forbid!’ Dorothy’s glance strayed briefly to Kate. ‘But no. She’s welcome to stay as long as she wishes.’
‘Zia Dolly!’ Gianetta flew to kiss her. ‘Grazie!’
‘Aunt?’ queried Luciano.
‘Why not?’ Tabitha’s smile brimmed with mischief. ‘What does Toby call you?’
‘Sir,’ came the arid response. ‘And, speaking of Tobias … I daresay you’d like to have him with you for Christmas?’
‘We would,’ agreed Dorothy cautiously. ‘But with the countryside in turmoil, I don’t really see…’
‘How he’s to get here safely? Don’t worry. I won’t send him if the signs are against it – and I’ll see that he’s well-escorted. But not,’ he finished, sighing, ‘by Selim.’
Kate’s brows rose. ‘Obviously. You can’t unless you cut the cord, can you? And you’re plainly not thinking of bringing Toby here yourself.’
‘Is that an invitation? If so, don’t think I’m not tempted. Unfortunately, however, having already been politely detained by both Roundheads and Cavaliers, I can’t help but feel that Tobias will arrive quicker without me.’
‘Goodness!’ said Kate amicably. ‘I’d no idea you were so popular. But it seems they soon let you go again.’ She paused, catching a glimpse of something in his eyes. ‘Or did they?’
‘Not particularly. I escaped the singularly inept clutches of Nathaniel Fiennes only to fall into the rather more efficient hands of the King’s nephew – with the result that I’ve wasted the last month getting from Worcester to here via Shrewsbury.’
Celia sat up.
‘The King’s nephew? Prince Rupert? Heavens! Is he really as romantic as they say?’
‘Romantic?’ Luciano smiled sardonically. ‘I doubt I’m qualified to judge. The words that spring to my mind are self-willed, single-minded and blunt. Rather,’ he finished, ‘like Kate.’
There was a ripple of laugher.
Devil, thought Kate appreciatively. And then, in an effort to disguise the fact that – for the first time in months – bubbles of exhilaration were bursting in her veins, said calmly, ‘I’m flattered. And I suppose you travelled in this exalted company as far as Southam?’
‘Further than that. When I took my leave of it earlier today, the Royalist army was at Fenny Compton with the intention of spending the night at Edgecote.’
There was a sudden silence. Then Dorothy said remotely, ‘If that’s the case, they’re all around us. Wonderful. And where is Lord Essex?’
‘Everybody’s favourite question … but supposedly marching east from Worcester to prevent the King’s progress south, Whether or not he’ll do it is anybody’s guess – so at the moment I think all you have to worry about is escaping the attention of the King’s army.’
‘Oh,’ said Kate feebly. ‘Is that all?’
‘Yes. But look on the bright side. You’re well away from the main road here – and I gathered that their immediate objective is to take Banbury Castle. Consequently, they’re unlikely to come here either by accident or design. But, just in case they do, I’ve sent Selim to the tavern in the village so that we may have some warning.’ He smiled mockingly. ‘What’s the matter, Kate? Surprised I should think of it – or unable to accept that I’m not quite as crass as you’d like to believe?’
‘Both.’ She drew a long breath. ‘If you’ve been with the King, I imagine you’ve probably also seen Celia’s brother and – and Kit Clifford.’
‘Only in passing - but both appeared well. I’m afraid I bear no message
s because, at the time, I hadn’t planned on coming here. Ah. And that reminds me.’ Sliding one hand into his pocket, he pulled out a rather crumpled letter. ‘Gianetta. This is for you.’
Surprise marking her brow, she rose to take it from him; and then, staring at it, said slowly, ‘This is from Mario. If you brought it yourself from Genoa, why is it only now that you give it to me?’
He spread his hands. ‘I believe I was too busy.’
‘You could have sent it.’
‘It slipped my mind. Aren’t you going to read it?’
‘Yes – but alone.’ And, without another word, she went swiftly from the room.
Tabitha frowned at Luciano.
‘You know what it says, don’t you?’
‘More or less. But I don’t think I’ll compound my offence by telling you.’
‘Meaning,’ said Kate, ‘that the news will not be welcome.’
‘Exactly. But the storm it raises shouldn’t last long.’ Again that cool, impersonal smile. ‘Displays of temperament require the right audience. And I’m leaving for Oxford first thing in the morning.’
* * *
For two equally good reasons, Kate retired that night only to find that sleep eluded her. And after two hours of tossing and turning and trying to think neither of Luciano del Santi’s presence in the house nor the Royalist army’s all around it, she finally admitted defeat and got up. A hot posset was probably the answer; and, even if it wasn’t, at least the task of making it would give her something else to think of.
She lit a candle, pulled on her chamber-robe and rammed her feet into a pair of slippers. Then, taking care to make as little noise as possible, she went down to the kitchen to set some cream to warm and savagely beat up some eggs.
This made her wrist ache but unfortunately didn’t touch her mind.
All right, she thought, irritably setting down the basin and reaching for the cinnamon. The Cavaliers may be close by but, if they haven’t come here yet, the chances are they won’t. And tomorrow they’ll be too busy trying to take the castle or march on London to bother about small country manors like this one. As for Luciano ... in a few hours he’ll be gone too. It’s unfortunate that he manages to make my blood sing just by being in the same room – but it’s hardly the end of the world and I can cope with it. She poured a generous measure of sack into the spicy eggs. So that’s that. No problem at all.
The cream was just about to boil. Kate lifted it from the heat and, holding it high in the air, let it cascade smoothly down on the eggs and sack.
‘Eye of newt and toe of frog, I presume,’ said a thread-like voice from the door. ‘You must have known I was coming.’
Kate jumped and a splash of hot cream landed on her hand.
‘By the pricking of my thumbs?’ she retorted, slamming the pan down and wheeling to face him. ‘Haven’t you any sense? I might have been scalded. And why aren’t you in bed, instead of creeping round like a blasted burglar?’
‘My apologies. It’s not through choice, I assure you,’ he replied, advancing a little into the light. And then, before she had time to do more than think how odd he looked, he said desperately, ‘Oh hell. Sorry, Kate.’ And threw up neatly into the nearest available receptacle.
Shock paralysed her for at least thirty seconds. Then, having waited for the paroxysm to pass, she moved slowly towards him, saying, ‘Oh. Another illusion shattered.’
He remained where he was, leaning on the dresser and trying to control his breathing.
‘I knew I could count on your sympathy.’
‘Quite. How long have you been like this?’
‘Not long.’ A faint shudder passed through him. ‘An hour, perhaps. Could I trouble you for some water?’
‘Milk might be better.’
‘Only if you like watching me vomit,’ he snapped, looking up at her. And then, ‘Kate. Enjoy yourself by all means. But just for once, do as I ask.’
‘When does anyone ever do anything else? Oh – sit down, for God’s sake. And take the damned bowl with you.’
When she came back with the water, she found that he had done as she asked but was still looking decidedly green. She handed him the cup without a word and stalked back to the range as if she didn’t care a jot. Which, of course, she told herself firmly, she didn’t. From behind her came the unmistakeable sounds of further unpleasantness. Kate stared fixedly into the posset and discovered that, like her insides, it appeared to have curdled.
Presently, his voice low and controlled, he said, ‘I don’t suppose you’d consider going back to bed?’
And leave you like this? But she didn’t say it. Instead, she turned a brittle smile on him and said, ‘And miss all the fun? Don’t be stupid. But it does rather look as though I ought to fetch Mother.’
‘No.’ For some obscure reason, Luciano suddenly realised that – if he couldn’t be left decently alone – hers was the only company he could tolerate. ‘Don’t worry. I haven’t brought some unspeakable disease with me. I think I know what this is … and it shouldn’t last much longer.’
‘So now you’re a doctor as well?’ She marched to the table and sat down facing him. ‘Is there no end to your accomplishments?’
The dark eyes were a little dull but he achieved a semblance of his customary acid-edged smile.
‘Don’t tempt me. It doesn’t take much, however, to spot the effects of an emetic.’
Temporarily silenced, Kate stared at him. Then she said uncertainly, ‘If that’s a joke, it’s a poor one.’
‘As you wish.’ The smile lingered. ‘So … what shall we talk about now? Your reasons for being up at this hour?’
He was obviously feeling better. Planting her elbows on the table and resting her chin on her hands, Kate said severely, ‘All right. I’m listening. Who and how?’
‘I’m inclined to suspect the mulled wine so thoughtfully placed at my bedside. As for who … I can only suppose that Gianetta is taking her revenge.’
‘Gianetta? But she’s your sister!’
‘Only by blood,’ he excused dryly. ‘And, on top of parting her from her beloved Cousin Mario, I’m also guilty of withholding his letter announcing his intention to wed elsewhere until the deed was done.’ He paused, reflectively. ‘I ought to have expected something of the sort really. Her admirable restraint throughout supper didn’t quite match the look in her eye.’
‘But that’s ridiculous!’ said Kate crossly. ‘If you ask me, she no longer cares a fig for this cousin. And it’s certainly no reason to – to half-poison you.’
His brows rose.
‘This unlooked-for support is very touching – but don’t get carried away. It was only an emetic and a relatively mild one at that. I’m surprised you’re not laughing.’
‘Give me time,’ she retorted, annoyingly aware of her error. ‘Right now I don’t find anything particularly funny in having to clear up the results of Gianetta’s little prank.’
‘Understandable – but unnecessary.’ The pause held a subtle element of disbelief. But before she could speak again, he came slowly to his feet saying, ‘I’ll do it myself. I’m quite capable.’
‘I daresay you are. Unfortunately, however, you’re a guest. Mother would never forgive me.’
‘She won’t know anything about it.’
‘I beg your pardon?’
‘You heard me.’ He held her gaze with pleasant implacability. ‘If this becomes public, I’ll be forced to box Gianetta’s ears. Metaphorically speaking, of course. And that isn’t going to solve anything.’
‘It might stop her doing it again.’
‘There’s no need for that. She may be Italian but she’s not a Borgia. And if I can forget it, why shouldn’t you?’
‘I’ll think about it,’ said Kate curtly. Rising, she took the foul bowl from beside him and bore it wordlessly away to the scullery.
When she came back, he was once more sitting motionless at the table, staring thoughtfully at his hands. Kate replaced the bow
l on the dresser and then, turning, said abruptly, ‘You said Gianetta is Italian. Aren’t you?’
He looked up at her and gave an almost imperceptible shrug.
‘Not really. Not any more. I believe the expression is neither fish nor fowl.’
She knew she ought to leave, that there was no further excuse to stay; but she couldn’t resist the temptation to sit down again, saying slowly, ‘That sounds rather uncomfortable.’
‘Only if one allows it to be.’
He paused and, for the first time since entering the kitchen, took in the russet-coloured robe that had seen better days and the waist-long hair, once loosely confined at the nape but now wildly straying. A softly curling lock lay on the table and he had to stop his hand reaching out to touch it. Most women, he thought, would resent being caught at such a disadvantage. Kate did not appear to have given it a passing thought. He found he rather admired that. It wasn’t, unfortunately, the only thing he admired. His eyes were drawn to the fine-boned delicacy of her wrist, his mind immediately conjuring up the style of ornament that would best complement it. He shut the thought off - and others along with it. But for still feeling rather ill and having previously – and wholly embarrassingly - thrown up in her presence, he might well have been tempted into doing something rather foolish. As it was, he contented himself with saying mildly, ‘But I imagine you’d know all about that.’
Wariness flickered in the wide green eyes.
‘I would? Why?’
‘The peculiar nature of your betrothal.’
‘Oh God – not you too!’ she snapped. And then, ‘You’ve been talking to Father.’
‘Vice versa, actually. He’s concerned about you.’
‘Do you think I don’t know that?’
‘No. I’ve even a suspicion that it occasionally keeps you awake at night.’
She stood up again and faced him over the table, shaking with an emotion that she told herself was anger.
‘That is no affair of yours. And, even if it were, you are the very last person I’d discuss it with. I don’t even know why you’re asking me. You must, as someone once said, have other fish to fry.’