The Elusive Earl (Saints & Scoundrels)

by Michaels, Maddison

  “Are you sure you’re quite well?” She drew alongside and placed a tentative hand on his arm. “You seem a little bit hot and bothered.”

  “Damn it, don’t touch me!”

  She jumped. “Well, you don’t have to bite my head off! I’m only trying to help.”

  “Then, for the love of God,” he groaned, “don’t touch me after talking about undressing.”

  There was a moment of confusion in the blue depths of her gaze before her mouth rounded, and comprehension dawned in her expression. “Oh…”

  Shaking his head, Daniel continued walking. He didn’t even want to think about how torturous sharing a room with her was going to be. Why did he have to now start being aware of her as a woman?

  Obviously, he’d admired her figure before—any man would—but her outlandish behavior had always ensured he’d been more irritated than attracted to her. So, why wasn’t it enough now? She’d nearly gotten him killed; surely, that should have quelled any lust? But instead, it seemed to have fueled it.

  He halted again. Were those children he could hear playing in the distance?

  She plowed into the back of him and nearly sent them both sprawling. He turned and steadied her, his hands about her waist. And for a mad moment, he forgot every good reason why he shouldn’t be attracted to her.

  Because as he stared down into the clear blue depths of her eyes, fringed by the thickest, longest black lashes he could ever remember seeing, he realized he’d never been more drawn to anyone as he was right now to Miss Penderley.

  In that instant, he didn’t care that most of the time they couldn’t stand each other. Or that she was the exact opposite of what he wanted for a wife: a lady of steady refinement who could manage his large household without taking off for parts unknown on a whim. All he cared about right then was tasting her cherry red lips again. His head seemed to lower of its own accord.

  “Estranei! Estranei!”

  The sound of children’s screams penetrated the haze of passion that was clouding his head. With a start, Daniel spun around to where the noise had come from and saw two children ahead pointing at them and screaming out “strangers” in Italian.

  A man holding a rifle quickly rushed up from behind some trees and stood in front of them, brandishing the weapon in a protective stance.

  “Tu chi sei?” the man demanded. “Cosa vuoi?”

  “What did he say?” Bree whispered.

  “He’s asking who we are and what we want.” Daniel held his hands out in front of him, palms up. “Non intendiamo farti del male. Siamo stati avvicinati da banditi.”

  “Era il Garendetta?” the man asked.

  “Si,” Daniel replied. Now, he just had to ask the man if he knew of any shelter where Bree and Daniel could stay the night in. “Io e mia moglie cercano riparo.”

  The man lowered his rifle and regarded them both, carefully assessing them. “The Garendetta are no friends of mine.” His English was near perfect. “Come, you and your wife can stay in my barn for the night.” He gestured with his head to the area where he’d appeared from and then began walking back, herding his children with him.

  “Looks like we’ve found somewhere to sleep,” Daniel said to Bree as he began to follow.

  “What did you say when you and he spoke Italian?” she asked, rushing to keep pace with his long strides.

  “Do you now see how useful learning Italian would have been?”

  “Don’t you dare lecture me, Daniel Wolcott,” she scolded. “What did you say to him?”

  “I told him we meant him no harm and that we were set upon by bandits and looking for shelter.” Daniel shrugged. “It seems he doesn’t like the Garendetta.”

  “Clearly,” she agreed. “Are you certain we can trust him though?”

  “Trust is rather a strong word,” Daniel replied. “But we’re a little short on options. Unless you feel like sleeping under the stars this evening?”

  “No. I am cold and hungry. A barn will be better than the wet ground.”

  Daniel laughed. He did admire her forthrightness.

  The man and his children disappeared down a narrow path. Daniel indicated for Brianna to precede him as they trailed about twenty feet behind.

  “Do you think he’ll be scandalized that I don’t have a dress on?” Brianna asked over her shoulder.

  “You’ve got my coat pulled tightly around you,” Daniel replied. “He can’t even see what is or isn’t underneath.”

  They came to the edge of the woods, and ahead was a very small, wooden cottage with a barn off to the side. It was neat and tidy, but Daniel didn’t know how the man fit himself, let alone two children and presumably a wife, inside.

  “It doesn’t look like I’ll be getting that bath tonight, does it?” Brianna sighed.

  “You’re lucky we aren’t being forced to sleep outside, my dear.”

  The man approached them.

  “I am Rodrigo Vanchesca, and this is my home.”

  Daniel took the man’s proffered hand and shook it. “Daniel Wolcott and my wife Brianna,” he motioned to Bree, who flashed the man a smile.

  “My wife is cooking dinner.” Rodrigo inclined his head toward the cottage. “It is not much, some stew and bread, but you are welcome to some.”

  “We would be indebted to you,” Daniel said.

  “That is the barn you can stay in tonight.” The man pointed over to the wooden structure behind him. He shrugged. “There are some old blankets inside you can use. You should keep dry and warm in there, at least.”

  “We are very grateful to you, sir.” Brianna stepped forward and curtsied to him. “The barn will be greatly appreciated.”

  The two children had crept up behind their father and now giggled.

  “Where were you heading to?” he asked them.

  “To Cosenza,” Daniel replied.

  “Ah!” He clapped his hands. “My Maria is from a small town near there.”

  “Are we far off track from the main road?” Brianna enquired.

  “Not so much so.” Rodrigo shrugged slightly. “I have to go to town in the morning and get some supplies. You can both ride with me there, and you should find someone heading to Cosenza, I am sure.”

  “My thanks.” Daniel looked him in the eye. “I will see that you are repaid for your generosity.”

  “Generosity is its own reward, my friend.” There was a depth of sincerity in his expression that reminded Daniel that there were good people in the world. “Come, I will introduce you to my Maria, and you can listen to us argue some more on whether Italy should be unified or not.”

  “Unified?” Bree questioned before laughing as the children danced around her.

  “Yes.” Rodrigo rested his hand lovingly upon the head of the small boy. “I believe all the provinces, towns, and principalities should be united under one country.”

  “But I don’t understand?” Bree questioned. “We call the country Italy. Is it not already unified?”

  Roderigo shook his head. “A long time ago, under the Romans’ rule, the Italian peninsula was called Italia. But then when the Roman Empire collapsed, Italia as it once was, was no longer.” His eyes drifted out across to the mountains in the distance, an expression of nostalgia in their brown depths. “The land became a tapestry of individual provinces, kingdoms and principalities; though many still referred to the overall area of land as Italia. Which is why the name has persisted to this day, and now there are many calls that it should be consolidated under the one Kingdom of Italy. My wife, though, believes it should be left alone. As I said, she comes from the Cosenza region, and they have a good prince who looks after his citizens. But not so in other areas. You will see as you travel through the region that there is a lot of poverty in this part of the world.” He returned his gaze to regard them steadily.

  “You speak very good English,” Daniel remarked. “For a farmer.”

  Rodrigo laughed. “I used to be in the army of Naples, my friend. I have even traveled t
o your England a long time ago. But I got tired of a soldier’s life, and then I met my Maria, who refused to marry a soldier. So, it was easy to become a farmer, you see? And that is why I speak good English, for a farmer.”

  Daniel’s lips twitched as he followed him to the house. The front door flew open, and a rather rotund Italian woman stepped out onto the wooden verandah, regarding them with deep brown eyes.

  Rodrigo briefly spoke to the woman and then turned back to them. “This is my wife Maria. Her English is not so good, but she says you are welcome here.”

  Brianna curtsied to the lady. “We are very grateful to both of you.” She gave the woman a bright smile, and Daniel felt his heart lurch at the true warmth and kindness behind her eyes. He’d never really taken notice before, but now, he realized she was always kind and thoughtful to others, especially to those who had less.

  “Dio mio!” the woman gasped as she squinted at Brianna. She turned and fled back into the cottage.

  Brianna turned her puzzled gaze between him and Rodrigo. “Did I say something wrong?”

  But the woman returned, holding a small wooden picture frame in her hands. She faced it so they could all see.

  Brianna drew in a sharp breath. The frame held a sketch of a woman. “Why, that’s me… How is that possible?”

  The woman pointed to the image and then to Brianna. “Di Principessa Isabella Maria Elizabeta!” Then she turned to her husband and spoke in a rapid staccato of Italian. Daniel could only keep up with pieces of the excited chatter.

  Bree took the picture from the woman’s outstretched hand. “Isabella Maria Elizabeta, you say?”

  “Sì, sì!” The woman kept pointing to the drawing and then back to Brianna. “Tu, tu.”

  Brianna’s complexion seemed to pale as she continued to glance down at the image. “My mother’s name was Isabella Maria Elizabeta…”

  “Your mother was the Principessa Isabella of Cosenza?” Rodrigo asked and then, when his wife tugged on his arm, he translated the words in Italian for her.

  “Sì, naturalmente, tua madre.” The woman beamed a smile at them both. “Your mother, sì?”

  “I don’t know.” Brianna sounded dazed. “She died when I was just a toddler, so I don’t remember what she looked like. Where did you get this?” she asked Maria.

  Rodrigo translated, and Maria waved her arms about as she replied in a rapid blur of Italian. “Maria’s mother used to work at the castle in Cosenza,” Rodrigo said, after his wife had finished. “Your mother was well loved, and when she died, some of the artists in Cosenza sketched the Principessa’s likeness and sold small drawings in the marketplace. Maria, who was but a child, begged her mother to purchase one and has kept it ever since.”

  There was an expression of bewilderment on Brianna’s face. “My mother couldn’t have been a princess. She married my father, and he had no wealth, or title, or anything really. It’s not possible, is it? Surely I would have been told when I was younger if it was?”

  Daniel tugged at his shirt collar, the material feeling tight and uncomfortable about his neck. He cleared his throat. “Actually…it is true.” His voice sounded stilted even to his own ears.

  “What do you mean, it is true?” She shook her head, staring at him as if he’d grown two heads. “No, it cannot be. To find out you are really a princess is the stuff of fairy tales, not reality.”

  Daniel had no idea how to convince her. She was right, it was the stuff of fairy tales. “Your mother was the Principessa Isabella of Cosenza, Brianna. Though her title is not on the same scale as our monarchy in England, she still belonged to a royal family of Italy. She was a princess, Bree; that I promise you.”

  He felt helpless, watching as various emotions played across her face one after the other. First shock, then confusion, and finally her eyes sparkled with anger, which was completely focused upon him.

  “We will leave you both alone for a moment,” Rodrigo said, as he bowed and his wife dipped into a deep curtsy before they ushered their children inside and closed the front door gently behind them.

  “How long have you known?” Bree’s voice was dangerously soft.

  “Only since last night.” Daniel felt his stomach clench. He knew he should have said something to her this morning, but as much as he’d tried to, he’d found himself mute. For, how does one blurt out to someone that they are a princess and destined to inherit a kingdom? And will likely have to leave England for good.

  “Do you honestly expect me to believe that calling me princess, for all of these years, has been simply a coincidence?”

  Her whole body was vibrating in disbelief, but Daniel glimpsed the uncertainty warring with the anger in her eyes. “I truly didn’t know beforehand, Brianna. I promise.”

  She took a step back and crossed her hands over her chest. “You should have told me straight away.”

  “I know.”

  “My family also should have paid me the courtesy of telling me years ago!”

  He could see the pain course through her at the thought that this vital information about her past had been deliberately withheld from her. “If it is any consolation, I don’t think they know.”

  “What a load of codswallop!” She stamped her foot on the narrow verandah’s floorboards, the old timber shaking beneath. “Are you seriously suggesting that my uncle did not know? That the man who runs the entire intelligence department for the British War Office did not know his brother married a princess?”

  Daniel stuck his hands in his pockets, feeling unaccountably at a loss as to how to deal with a furious Miss Penderley. He’d seen her angry before, but never tinged with a look of betrayal directed at him. “I’m not sure if he knows or not.” Daniel tried to placate her. “But I’m sure if he did know, he must have had a very compelling reason not to have told you.”

  “Oh no, you don’t,” she raged at him. “You don’t get to excuse him, and you certainly don’t get to excuse your own behavior. You should have told me as soon as you found out. And you, especially, should have said something when the captain was telling me the truth.”

  “I didn’t know if he was a friend or foe,” Daniel said.

  “Well, I think we can say a friend, considering he may well have died trying to protect me!”

  “He might have been protecting you simply to ransom you!”

  She fisted her hands on her hips. “That poor captain had no reason to ransom me. My mother may have been a princess, but she married a commoner. There is nothing to ransom me for.”

  “Actually, there is.” Didn’t she understand the peril she was potentially in? “You are the next heir of Cosenza.”

  “That is not possible!” she cried. “I am a female, and we are hardly ever heirs to anything.”

  Daniel couldn’t stand seeing her so vulnerable as confusion warred with anger in her gaze. He clutched her shoulders. “The inheritance laws of Cosenza allow the title and estate to pass through the female line.” They stood like that for a long moment before he released her and exhaled deeply. “You were the Principessa’s only child. That not only makes you a princess but means you are next in line to inherit the kingdom of Cosenza after your grandfather, who, aside from you, is the only other Bartelli alive.”

  He stared off at the tree line in the distance, knowing that the words he was about to say would hurt her but also knowing that she needed to perceive the situation for what it was. “Why do you think you suddenly found yourself with two fiancés in Naples who wouldn’t leave you alone? They obviously had put two and two together, particularly as you are the very image of your mother, and one of them is himself from Cosenza and a distant cousin of yours.”

  There was a dangerous glint crossing her countenance. “A distant cousin? You clearly know a great deal more than what you’ve let on. What else aren’t you telling me?”

  Never had he felt the need to justify his actions before, but the accusation and hurt in her expression was unsettling in a way he didn’t want to examine
closely. “I don’t—”

  “Actually, I don’t want to know,” she interrupted. “Keep your secrets, for you are so obviously immersed in the world of intrigue and espionage that you are probably incapable of telling the truth.”

  “I’ve never lied to you!” Daniel reached for her elbow as she went to turn away.

  “A lie by omission is still a lie.” She shook free of him like his touch burned. “Now, if you will excuse me, I wish to go and talk to some people who will actually treat me like an adult and tell me about my mother.”

  She twisted open the door and stormed into the house. Running a hand through his hair, he felt his frustration with the woman give way to a sense of uncertainty. He knew he should have told her. And he had fully intended to. It was just every time he’d gone to say something to her on the trip this morning, the words wouldn’t come out. Daniel didn’t know why, but a part of him had hoped that if the words weren’t said, they wouldn’t be true. Because he was rather annoyed to admit it to himself, but for some reason, he was reluctant to see Miss Penderley relocate to Italy.

  Maybe he’d just miss having a verbal sparring partner.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Brianna sat on the grassy hill behind the cottage and watched as dawn gently crept over the horizon, her hand absently brushing over the embossed patterns on the leather cover of her mother’s journal.

  She’d awoken before Daniel and the others and had needed some fresh air and space to be alone with her thoughts. So, she’d grabbed the simple, brown dress Maria had left out for her, grateful to not have to worry for once about a corset and crinoline, and changed behind the small dressing screen in the room. Then, with a sigh of relief, she’d crept outside. She knew Daniel had been fully aware of her leaving, but he’d been smart enough to pretend to still be asleep.

  Looking down at the journal nestled in her hands, she felt more confused than ever. With the revelations from last night about her birthright, she felt hopelessly lost, with no idea of who she truly was and where in fact she belonged.

  Still, she couldn’t quite bring herself to believe that she was a princess. Her? Miss Brianna Penderley, a princess of a small province in Italy? It was ridiculous. Ludicrous even. One didn’t simply become a princess. She couldn’t possibly be.