Daniel cleared his throat behind them, and she spun around. “Oh, this is my husband,” she hastily began to introduce him to Lord Mondesta. “The Earl of Thornton.”
Lord Mondesta held out a friendly hand in greeting.
“And we were very pleased to find out about you,” Lord Mondesta said as he pumped Daniel’s hand vigorously.
“Why?” Daniel asked by way of his own greeting.
“Well, not to sound derogatory in any manner, but having you married to the Principessa will prevent the Duke of Siprezino from marrying her, ultimately saving Cosenza from the man’s greedy paws.”
“You don’t like Siprezino?” Daniel questioned.
Lord Mondesta shrugged. “It is more that I don’t like how he has run his own kingdom into the ground and is now wishing to fill its coffers again through the bounty that Cosenza would provide. Your marriage prevents him from doing that.”
“Come, enough of this depressing talk of the Duke of Siprezino,” the Prince spoke as he took the crook of Bree’s elbow and led her toward the doors. “Let me show you where your mother grew up and where she is happily remembered every day.”
Footmen, adorned in sapphire blue breeches with matching jackets that had gold braid sewn along the edges and gleaming golden buttons shining brightly, were standing to attention and holding open the ornate doors.
They crossed over the threshold, and Bree’s boots rang out softly against the marble floor beneath, the noise echoing in the open space. Her breath caught as she swiveled her gaze around the wide entrance hall. She’d never seen anything more magnificent.
The crystal chandeliers hanging high above gleamed as the afternoon sunlight poured in through the door behind them. The wooden furniture was polished to a high shine, and she could smell the scent of fresh verbena wafting through the air. It was perfect, and though not as large as Buckingham Palace, it matched the same level of opulence in every respect.
And this palace was potentially meant to be her new home? How could she live in something of such grand proportions?
A loud commotion from outside had her spinning back around toward the entrance.
Daniel stepped in front of her, shielding her, as he always seemed to do when a possible threat presented itself. She noticed that Alessandro did likewise with the Prince.
A man strode through the door, and with relief, she recognized it was the missing soldier who had been with Alessandro when they had first met.
Following closely on his heels were two gentlemen she had never met; one wore a dark gray military uniform, and the other was dressed impeccably in a tailored, blue, traveling suit. Then rushing in from behind him came her Aunt and Milly, followed by a few more soldiers in the same gray uniforms as the first man.
Bree didn’t quite know what was going on, but she felt tears of relief begin to slide down her face upon seeing Aunt Edith’s and Milly’s faces. Quickly, she dashed past Daniel and the other men and ran across to the two women.
Her aunt opened her arms wide, and Bree hurried into her embrace. Her aunt’s arms clasped tightly around her, and Bree laughed when Milly joined them, too. There, the three of them stood clutching on to each other, all crying and talking at once.
Bree hadn’t realized how dreadfully she had missed them. How much they truly were her family, more like her mother and sister than her aunt and cousin.
“It is so good to see you both,” she told them.
“We were so worried,” her aunt cried. “When we met the Captain and he told us not only were you a princess, but that your carriage had plunged into the river, I was too scared to think straight! Don’t you ever do that to me again, Brianna!”
“I won’t, Aunt Edith.” Bree pulled back from them both.
“Thank goodness. But I must say your uncle has a lot of explaining to do! How dare he not tell me you’re a princess?”
“You didn’t know either?” Bree felt such relief that at least her aunt hadn’t been lying to her.
“Of course, not, my darling,” Her aunt hugged her again. “But don’t you worry; I will find out why Walter didn’t tell us.” She pulled back from Bree. “Now, have you heard anything yet about Travis? Have the Garendetta sent word of when you are to meet them?”
Bree could see the fear her aunt was desperate trying to mask. “It looks like he may have escaped from them, and the Garendetta, in turn, are trying to recapture him.”
“What do we do?” Her aunt looked to be at a loss as she unaccountably began to fidget with the buttons along the front of her riding habit. Her aunt never fidgeted with anything.
“Daniel and I are discussing how best to proceed.” Bree reached down and took the woman’s hands in her own and squeezed them gently. “But for the moment, there is not much to be done.”
Her aunt took a breath, and gradually, the fear was replaced by a look of grim determination. “I trust both of you, and I know that if you are working together to save Travis, then it is the best chance we have of finding him safe.”
Bree felt pride swell in her chest from the words. Her aunt was never one to dish out praise haphazardly, and hearing that she was confident Daniel and Bree could find him filled her with confidence, too.
“Now, what have you done to yourself, my dear?” her aunt said, sounding much more like herself, as her eyes swept down and inspected Bree’s attire. “You look a mess! Though at least you appear to be all in one piece, yes?”
It was lovely to be reminded of her state of attire, particularly when she knew she looked a fright. “I am fine.”
“Then you lost all of your luggage in the river?” Milly asked as her eyes, too, swept across the simple, gray dress Bree wore.
“I managed to save some reading material,” Bree said, referring, of course, to the journal, which she was certain would not be lost on the ladies. She looked over her aunt’s shoulder to see Daniel standing there watching them all, an inscrutable look in his emerald eyes. “Oh by the way,” she mentioned to her Aunt and Milly, “the earl and I got married again yesterday.”
“You what?” Milly choked out.
Edith quickly grabbed ahold of Milly’s arm and squeezed it, an often-used technique of her aunt’s to effectively get Milly to close her mouth. “But, my darling,” Edith said, staring at Bree, her eyes filled with questions. “You and the earl were married in England. Why on earth did you have to get married again?”
There was a serene smile on her aunt’s face, though Brianna could see that the news came as a shock to her, for she was holding herself stiffly upright. Aunt Edith only ever did so when she was trying to stop herself from breaching any rules of decorum, such as flying into a fit. It generally worked.
“Well…” Bree began. “You see…”
“We thought it was the safest course of action, my lady,” Daniel’s deep voice interjected as he stepped forward closer to the three of them. “And might I say, it is good to see you both again, safe and sound.”
He deftly placed a kiss on her aunt’s cheek, and Bree was certain he whispered something in her aunt’s ear, though even as close as she was, she couldn’t tell.
Bree leaned in close to Milly. “Who is the handsome man in the blue suit over there?” She motioned towards the tall man, who was adopting a rather louche pose, though he couldn’t disguise the alertness in his gaze.
Milly’s expression turned almost militant as her eyes flicked over to the man. “He is Mr. Samuel Boyd, heir to the old Earl of Caldwell, and one of the most annoying men I’ve ever had the misfortune to meet, let alone travel with for days.” Her voice was a harsh whisper, and a flush of pink had spread across her normally alabaster cheeks.
The man seemed to have vexed Milly greatly, which was a feat in itself, as usually, her cousin was entirely too sensible to fall prey to such wayward emotions. How interesting.
Alessandro stepped forward. “Perhaps you should all get settled into your rooms first, and then we can continue this conversation later at dinner, when we ar
e away from prying ears.” He glanced over at the servants and soldiers near the door.
“That is an excellent idea,” Lord Mondesta said. “Though perhaps I can have a quick word with you and your men, Captain?” As Alessandro nodded, Lord Mondesta turned to bow to Bree. “If you will excuse us, Principessa, we shall join you and your family later tonight for dinner.”
Alessandro, along with his men and the carabinieri lieutenant, all gave a quick bow to the group before turning and striding down the hall.
Lord Mondesta then turned to the Prince. “We will leave you, my liege. I am sure your guests would appreciate some time to freshen up and talk with you in private during the few hours before dinner. Afterwards, we can all discuss matters with the Principessa and her family in the drawing room.”
“A sensible suggestion, Lord Mondesta,” the Prince replied.
Lord Mondesta followed the soldiers and the carabinieri men away from the entrance and down the hallway. He also said something to the butler as he passed, and suddenly, the servants dispersed with quiet efficiency as well. The man certainly knew how to organize things.
Bree glanced around, noting that as quickly as they had been surrounded by others, it was now just the five of them, and the Prince and two of his guards, standing in the suddenly empty entrance hall.
“It has been years since such excitement has taken place in the palace.” The Prince laughed and winked at Bree. “I am already very glad you have been brought back to me, even though it is under trying circumstances.”
He took her hand and began to lead her down another corridor.
“Come,” he said over his shoulders to the others. “You must all wish to settle in before dinner is served, and then I will tell you what I have heard about Travis. There will be just enough light left that we shall be able dine on the terrace today and discuss what we shall do to save him.”
“You wish to help us save Travis?” Bree asked him.
“Well, of course.” He gently patted her hand, a look of determination in his aging eyes. “He is your cousin, which makes him a part of my family, too. I will do anything to help my family.”
Bree suddenly felt torn. She was a Penderley of course, but, she realized, she was also a Bartelli. Goodness, she didn’t want to even think about being a Thornton, as that would only confuse matters further.
But now, she did, in fact, have two countries and, indeed, two families to call home. Which begged the question of where did she actually belong?
And for a panicked moment, she felt like it may be nowhere.
Chapter Thirty-Two
“Please stop!”
Calogero watched in fascination as Mr. Tarboli writhed in pain on the old wood floor, pleading incessantly for the punishment to cease.
It always intrigued him how torture could fell even the strongest of men; not that Tarboli was that, but still, the cause and effect of hurting another physically and then seeing where their mental breaking point was, was a very curious thing. Particularly when physical pain had no effect on Calogero at all.
He glanced down at Mr. Tarboli, who was quivering in the corner with his hands and feet bound by a thick rope. Calogero sighed. He had hoped to enjoy this little endeavor of punishing Tarboli for his treachery, but after finding out the Principessa was married, Calogero found his mood to be quite low.
Not even the twenty-six, oozing, red lacerations marring the length of Tarboli’s torso, which Calogero had carved into the man’s flesh at precisely the same lengths, were enough to fill him with the satisfaction he normally derived from such an activity.
Even the thought of finding the treasure and the elixir, after all of these long years, was not gripping him with the same intense fervor it usually did.
Perhaps he had matured, now realizing that Cosenza itself was the true treasure. With the passage of time, since the first Principessa’s death, Cosenza itself had become a very wealthy principality. A principality many, it seemed, wished to rule over, himself now included. But he would, of course, need the elixir of life to reign over it indefinitely and cure this affliction that had plagued him since birth.
It would be nice to finally be able to feel things, instead of trying to see what the sensation felt like through others.
As a child, the other children in the village had looked at him like he was a monster, particularly after he had fallen over and not realized that his arm was hanging at an odd angle. He hadn’t felt the snap of bone or the associated pain that went with it. He hadn’t felt a lot of things growing up.
People had whispered behind his back that Il Diablo was inside him, and to a certain extent, Calogero rather thought that might be the case. But he was tired now of never feeling pain, of never feeling what the soft touch of lips running across his skin actually felt like. Of being unable to pleasure a woman, as he ought to be able to do.
Through his research of the ancient texts, Calogero had become certain over the years that the elixir rumored to have been buried with King Aleric was the key to restoring his senses. To restoring his worth. To restoring his manhood.
A part of him had always been in love with Isabella. She had been so beautiful, so kind, so filled with life and passion that was foreign to him.
Calogero had never meant for her to be killed. He had simply wanted her husband dead and to find the treasure; then he could have married her and lived with her forever. Unfortunately, her passionate nature had foiled those plans, and he had given up on marrying again. But when her daughter had been discovered alive, it was as if God was finally heeding his prayers, and what could not be with Isabella could come to fruition with her daughter, Brianna.
But now the stupid girl had done what her mother had and eloped with an Englishman. Calogero felt a deep rage burning within his belly. Thankfully, emotions he could feel, for they were his only respite from the numbness of his body. Though, of course, he made certain they never surfaced. It was a weakness to let others see an emotion, and he would never allow any to see he could be hurt emotionally. But as the years passed, he was finding it harder and harder to disguise his rage, and even more so now that happiness was once again in his reach.
But husbands could be killed. He’d proven that successfully with Isabella’s Englishman. He could do so again with Brianna’s, too.
He walked across the room and crouched down to where Tarboli was huddled. He drew his dagger from his belt and swiftly slashed it across a patch of unmarked flesh on Tarboli’s thigh. The man screamed in agony as the skin opened, and bright crimson blood began trickling from the wound.
“Please stop, I beg you,” Tarboli pleaded again, anguish in each of his words.
“You are going to tell me every single detail of your conversation with the Principessa,” Calogero calmly informed him. “If I think you are lying, I will cut you. If I think you are leaving something out, I will cut you. If I think you are pausing for too long, I will cut you. Do you understand me, Mr. Tarboli?”
The man whimpered. “Yes, I will tell you what I know.”
“Good.” Calogero stood and dragged a chair over. He sat and looked down at the man. “Talk.”
…
Bree stood on her own at the balcony, gazing out at the mountains in the distance, whilst the others still sat at the table on the terrace behind her, after having finished a delicious feast, and were now all discussing how to find Travis. Her thoughts were in a jumble. On one hand, finding Travis was at the forefront, but being here in the palace, walking on the same floors as her mother had once done, was proving to be a great distraction.
It all felt so surreal, and a part of her couldn’t quite accept that she was actually a princess. Even seeing her mother’s floor-to-ceiling portrait hanging in the great hall as they’d walked to the terrace earlier hadn’t helped.
When Bree had stopped to stare at it, at first she had felt the most profound sense of loss, but then she’d felt a deep, burning anger toward the unknown man who had taken her mother and father from h
er.
Never in her life had she felt like inflicting such pain and heartache on any one person before. But without a doubt, she wanted whoever the man was to suffer, and she wanted him to suffer terribly.
Knowing she needed to focus on Travis, rather than vengeance, was suddenly proving difficult.
She sighed. Finding Travis was seeming a rather hopeless endeavor. As Daniel had said, searching for the treasure without a starting point was like finding a needle in a haystack. Even though her mother had left clues, Bree was at a complete loss as to where to start. If the poem did lead to the treasure, then it was the weeping mountain they had to find first. But there were so many mountains in the distance. How were they to tell which was the weeping one?
Gazing out across the vista, Bree was, at once, taken with the scenery. With the palace perched high on a hill, she had an uninterrupted view of Cosenza. This was supposedly her town. Her people. But in truth, she still felt like an imposter who did not belong.
Enjoying the fresh air, Bree watched the sun begin its slumberous descent. Her eyes skimmed the village below and beyond to the mountainside, wondering, for the hundredth time, where Travis was.
Daniel and she had quietly agreed not to share their belief that Travis might go searching for the treasure. The last thing they needed was for everyone to insist on accompanying them. It would turn their search into a complete circus, which was exactly what was not needed. Besides, Travis had no idea that the Cosenza Royal Guard were actually friends and not foes, and if he saw a great deal of soldiers scouring the area, he would certainly go to ground even more. Making their job of finding him that much harder. They needed stealth and speed to find the treasure and Travis, something that would not be accomplished with her family and soldiers in tow.
Once she found her cousin, she was going to box his ears for the trouble he had caused, and only after she did so would she then get him safely back to the palace.
But even before they could find the elusive treasure, she and Daniel would have to work out a way to sneak out of the well-guarded palace. A near impossible endeavor. Although, her mother’s journal had made mention of a secret passage.
The Elusive Earl (Saints & Scoundrels) Page 27