“You needn’t be sarcastic. You found it yourself.”
He looked down at her, pushing the brim of her hat aside so he could see her pink cheeks. Her silver eyes caught the light and glimmered so brightly he wondered if they could blind him. “I was being serious.”
She smirked. “There is a first for everything, I suppose.” With the bearing innate to nobility, Ellie maneuvered through the smattering of tables to the stone archway and into the lobby of the hotel.
The change in the atmosphere was palpable, the climate blissfully temperate. Ellie and Henry moaned in concert, then burst into giggles.
“That sounded obscene,” she whispered.
“I’ve heard worse.”
She gave him a playful slap on the arm as the pair crossed to the front desk.
A gentleman, slim and regal with silver-streaked hair, smiled at their approach. “Benvenuto! Come posso aiutarla?”
Henry cleared his throat. “Um, English?”
“Of course, my lord,” the man replied, sounding as though he had studied alongside Henry’s father at Eton. “You must be Lord and Lady Morley.”
Ellie raised an eyebrow, and the man gave her a kind smile. “There are very few guests this time of year, even fewer who speak English.” He retrieved a large brass key on a long leather chain. “I am Signor Calavetti, and this is my hotel. Your luggage arrived hours ago and is already in your room. You will follow me,per favore.”
The parade of the Italian gentleman and two increasingly rank-smelling nobles trailed through the modest lobby and up a twisting staircase, featuring a thick Aubusson carpet and the most intricately carved balustrades Henry had ever seen.
“They are remarkable, are they not?”
Henry nodded at his host. “The detail is exceptional.”
The signore held his chin high. “My grandfather’s craft. In Italy, everyone can be an artist.”
Henry winced, feeling the weight of his sketchbook and paints in his shoulder bag. He had not sketched in days, weeks even. He hadn’t had the urge to pick up his supplies for so long that he wondered what had driven him to toss them in with his belongings. Perhaps here the prison of his mind would release him, allow him to find inspiration again.
Ellie turned to face him, grinning. “This is wonderful, Henry,” she whispered, squeezing his forearm. “Well done, my friend.”
He winked at her as they came to a stop in front of a wide mahogany door. “Your room, my lord, my lady.”
Henry watched Ellie’s cheeks blanch, then flush crimson. “Rooms, you mean?” she stuttered.
The gentleman shook his head in confusion. “No,signora, one room.”
Ellie glanced to Henry and for a moment he wanted to laugh. Of course,of course, after all the care he had taken to arrange this trip so Ellie would be comfortable, they had to encounter a scene directly out of a lurid novel.
“Signore,“ Henry said, his voice uncharacteristically firm, “I specifically requested two rooms.”
“Ah.” The man gave a self-deprecating chuckle. “I have said the wrong word. Here.” He unlocked the door with a flourish. “I think you will be pleased.”
Henry’s jaw dropped at the lush scene before him. The rustic exterior of the hotel had not prepared him for the luxury before him. The opulent sitting room could have been plucked from the finest London mansion, with gilded chairs upholstered with satin brocade arranged around a low marble table, settled upon an elaborate Persian rug. A massive mirror set in an intricate gilt frame topped the fireplace. At the far end of the parlor, French doors opened onto one of the wide balconies he had seen from the street.
Ellie’s gasp drew his attention. She had passed through a doorway into a bedroom, the four-poster bed laid with plush pillows, silks, and linen sheets and covered with a sage green cashmere throw. Next to the dressing table and matching armoire, a gilded mirror took up half the wall.
“The gentleman’s room is on this side.”
Henry turned to see their host gesturing to the unnoticed chamber to the right of the sitting room. Smaller but still grand, a cherry dresser and bed set with deep burgundy linens and counterpane commanded the chamber and looked delightfully inviting after the long day. Turning around, he saw a large washroom with a giant copper soaking tub, offset by white marble and black tile accents. A silk screen in pale green created a discreet changing area within the cavernous space.
“Henry!” He barely had time to turn before the force of Ellie’s embrace knocked the wind from his lungs. He laughed, wrapping his arms around her waist. “This is tremendous,” she gushed. “How did you find this place?”
Hours of conversation with experienced travelers in his circle? An Italian expatriate hired to translate the correspondence with the hotel? Hundreds of pounds to ensure everything was perfect for her arrival?
“Sheer dumb luck,” he said with a wry smile.
