eleven
IN THE SUNLIGHT, Violante’s pallor was more evident than indoors, but Keith was relieved to find her cheeks less hollow. Her dress, on the other hand, was a different matter. He wasn’t a fashion expert, and his housekeeper had done an excellent job of mending and cleaning Violante’s worn clothes, but they added an air of desperation to her thin figure he didn’t like. She resembled a character in one of Dickens’s novels. Her steps remained slow and guarded as she walked next to him, but her slowness might be due to her shoes. He’d given her a pair of old boots because Violante’s were too worn.
He hadn’t talked to her about their last conversation years ago at the police station. He desperately wanted to, but she needed to be stronger and more comfortable when in his presence. Their clarification could wait.
He offered her his arm. “Beautiful day, isn’t it?”
She hesitated before hooking her arm through his. “A bit chilly though.”
He wasn’t surprised. Her cloak had more holes than a slice of Swiss cheese. “We can return home.”
“No.” She gripped his arm harder. “It’s all right. I need the walk although…” She gazed at him. “Someone might recogniseme, and your reputation might be questioned if your peers see you with someone like me.”
“It’s a good thing my peers know where I come from and who I really am. Besides, I’m rarely seen with other aristocrats. I’m considered an arriviste who had a stroke of luck and easy money. Not exactly the type of men the gentlemen invite to the club to smoke expensive cigars with.”
He couldn’t completely remove the disappointment from his voice. Not because he was desperate for theton’s approval, but because he wished his business didn’t suffer because of the aristocrats’ snub.
“There’s something I’d like to ask you,” she whispered.
“Anything.” He meant it.
“What happened to Paul? I couldn’t help but notice that you correspond with a man called Paul who’s from New York City.”
He exhaled. He should have told her. “He’s Paul Wellington.”
She came to an abrupt halt, her fingers clenching around his arm. “You’re still his friend? He stole from my house when the police were attacking my father. He took my mother’s pendant.”
“That was despicable, and no, I’m not his friend. Not really. I searched for him because I wanted to know if he knew where you were.”
“He’s nothing but a scoundrel.”
“Try to understand, though. He stole from you because he was afraid that he and his mother would starve.”
Anger flushed red in her cheeks. “Please don’t defend him.”
“I’m not defending him. I’m only saying he was scared.”
“As everyone,” she said. “Anyway. What happened to him?”
“He started over.” Keith felt as if he were walking on eggshells. No matter how lightly he moved, he would crush something. “It won’t please you, but he invested the money he took from your strongbox.”
She scoffed. “Great.”
“He moved to the Americas with his mother, and he’s now a businessman, dealing in shipping as I do. I met him in London months ago. He does business with the Italian count as well.”
“So he’s rich thanks to my father’s money.” Her facial lines tightened, enhancing her flaming cheeks. “He stole from me and became a successful businessman while he left me with nothing, forcing me to become a thief. Fate doesn’t lack irony.”
“Paul is very sorry for what he did. He told me he tried to find you. I don’t approve or forget what he did, and as I told you, we aren’t really friends, but eventually, anger and disappointment are tiring for the soul.”
“I want my mother’s pendant.”
He could relate to her sentiment. Paul had disappointed him, too. “I can contact him on your behalf. He should come to London soon. We might do some business together.”
“What’s this project of yours?” She stumbled on a stone on the gravel path, and he coiled an arm around her waist to steady her.
They stood so close her flowery scent teased his senses.
He withdrew his arm when she stiffened. Right. She didn’t like too much closeness to him. “I can show you if you want. It’s not far from here.”
