seventeen
THE DINNER WAS a dull affair, at least for Keith. Violante was the only ray of light. She chatted with Lady Diana about the typical food served for Saint Joseph’s Day while the count discussed his passion for an Italian game of cards with Nigel who pretended to be fully invested in the conversation. Perhaps Keith should learn to pretend as well before Nigel ingratiated himself with the count. On second thought, bugger it. He wouldn’t pretend to be someone he wasn’t. His fake marriage of inconvenience was already a burden on his heart. He wouldn’t lie about enjoying a stupid conversation when he didn’t.
It was with relief when he said his goodnights to the others and climbed the stairs to his bedroom with Violante by his side.
Mrs. Collins and Murray waited for them in their bedroom, stifling yawns.
“Have you recovered from the trip, Collins?” Violante asked, closing the door.
Mrs. Collins rubbed her pale forehead. “Not quite Miss…I mean, my lady. The carriage was a nightmare.”
Even Murray’s face was ashen.
“You may retire then,” Violante said. “We’ll be all right, won’t we, Keith?”
“Of course.”
Murray didn’t bow to Violante, saying, “Good night.”
“My lady,” Keith added. “You should address my wife appropriately.” Someone might hear them.
Murray was flustered. “With due respect, but we’re deceiving an Italian count, risking a diplomatic incident, and to be quite honest, you’re barely a lord yourself.”
Mrs. Collins nodded. “We don’t even know who this woman is. We have principles.”
Violante lowered her gaze, her cheeks reddening.
Keith didn’t want to make a scene. Not to mention he couldn’t hire anyone else. He lowered his voice. “I don’t give a bloody toss about what you think of me, but you will not be rude to my wife.”
“She isn’t your wife,” Murray said. “This deceit is dangerous.”
“Two hundred pounds, each, to behave as proper, devout servants.” Keith wouldn’t ruin his chances with the count for these two people.
Violante stared at him, worried.
Murray exchanged a glance with Mrs. Collins before bowing low. “I wish you a good night to my lord and my lady.”
“Should you need anything,” Mrs. Collins said, opening the door, “don’t hesitate to call us, my lord, my lady.”
Don’t hesitate his arse. “You both can go now.” Keith shook his head.
Mrs. Collins curtsied, and Murray bowed again before leaving.
“I apologise,” he said to Violante when they were alone. “That was inexcusable.”
She shrugged. “Don’t worry.”
No, he did. “I’ve never paid too much attention to the way they address me, but this situation is different, and you deserve respect.”
“It’s all right. Really. I don’t care.” Yet she looked forlorn.
“Disappointed by Paul’s absence?” he asked.
“Yes. But I can wait another day, and I loved chatting with the countess. She reminds me of my mother. I didn’t realise how much I missed talking about my mother’s culture until I met the countess and the count.”
What a damn beautiful smile she had.
There was a sharp knock on the door. Not Murray and Mrs. Collins again.
