Page 35 of Bloodlines and Birthright

“Were you waiting for me, too?” I asked.

“Yes, of course. I was worried. We both were. Where were you all this time?”

“I followed the third man, the dandy with the crimson waistcoat.”

“Gavin!” Oscar threw his hands in the air, a gesture he seemed to have picked up from the expressive locals. “What if he was dangerous?”

I pushed my glasses up my nose, prepared to defend my actions, but he was right. If the man noticed me following him, he could have lured me onto that quiet road near the villa and accosted me without any witnesses seeing. I suddenly felt cold.

“This isn’t like you,” Oscar said with a frown.

I was supposed to be the careful one, and he the impetuous partner in this relationship. I shivered at the thought of what coud have happened.

“You’re cold,” Miss Wheeler said. “You should dry off. I have to go, too, and report to Mr. Defoe. I’m supposed to be keeping an eye on you both from a distance. I do want to know all about the man and where he went, Professor, but it will have to wait.” She picked up her skirts and headed to the stairs.

“I think you need a warm cup of tea,” Oscar said to me. “They’ve opened the dining room since the terrace is as drenched as you are. I’ll secure a table while you change.”

When I entered the dining room wearing dry clothes twenty minutes later, I spotted Mr. Defoe and Miss Wheeler first. I pretended not to see them as I headed for Oscar, seated at a table near the window. Rain and wind battered the glass, and the lake had almost completely disappeared from view beneath mist.

“This weather is biblical,” Oscar said as he poured me a cup of tea from the pot.

“I hope it doesn’t last,” I said. “All these tourists will have their holiday ruined.”

Oscar smiled. “Always thinking of others. If only I was half as considerate as you.”

“You are considerate.”

“Not as much as I should be. For instance, my mind has been pre-occupied ever since we settled on a date to depart England. Before that, if I’m being honest. I never factored you into the equation, and I should have. Your opinion on where and when we travel on these jaunts should have equal weight with mine.”

Perhaps I should do things that make him worry about me more often if this consideration was the result. “Oscar, I don’t mind that we waited to coincide our arrival here with Miss Wheeler’s.”

“You don’t?”

“No. I only ask that you consult me in future. If you want to follow her halfway around the world with me in tow, then just tell me. I’ll come if you wish and stay home if you prefer that instead.”

“I definitely prefer your company, Gavin. I’d be bored without you.”

“You’d have Miss Wheeler for company.”

“That’s the thing. I do not have Miss Wheeler for anything. Nor does she seem to want me.” He gave me a flat smile. “Still cold?” He opened the flap of his jacket to reveal a flask tucked into the inside pocket.

“Is that brandy?”

He flashed a smile, dimples and all.

I pushed my cup toward him. “Just a splash.”

He poured a little into my cup and a little more into his. “Where did you follow the third fellow to?”

“Villa Corzoni.”

A drop of the brandy spilled onto the tablecloth before he realized and secured the flask lid. “Bloody hell. Are you sure he didn’t see you?”

“I’m sure.” I told him how I followed the man to the service entrance, and that he didn’t greet anyone he passed on the way. “He seemed to know his way around but isn’t a servant. Nor is he a family member or guest, otherwise he would have used the front entrance.”

“Perhaps.” Oscar slipped the flask back into his pocket. “Whoever he is, I doubt Scala would like that an anarchist was in his house.”

“We don’t know if he’s an anarchist, just that he spoke to two of them in a back alley.” I lifted the teacup but didn’t sip. “Oscar, did you see the man’s face?”