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From his conversation, the duke appeared to be a keen-witted, formidable man who earned Will’s immediate respect. He liked Allegra’s cousin, the young duke Alessandro, as well. Listening to the discussion among the guests this evening, he’d gleaned some insight into the tangled nature of local politics and sympathized with the difficulties that lay ahead for the young man, trying to preserve his heritage through what promised to be a turbulent future. Not envying him the task, Will offered the Almighty a silent thanks that Brookwillow was located in the relative peace and prosperity of England.
And as for Allegra—his heart expanded with love and longing just remembering her. She’d sat at the head of the table beside her grandfather, radiantly beautiful in an elaborate gown of pure white, the gracious hostess ever attentive to the duke’s guests. She looked like an angel.
Would that she might be his!
So full of guests was the drawing room tonight, he’d not yet had a chance to speak with her. So when he spied her ahead of him on the terrace, trailed once again by her dour duenna, he went in pursuit.
“Good evening, Duchessa,” he called to her. To his delight she turned and, recognizing him, stopped to wait for him. “’Tis a beautiful night, the stars gleaming like diamonds on velvet. May I walk with you?”
“I should be delighted, Lord Tavener,” she replied.
She took his arm, capturing him in a haze of warmth and lavender scent. His body stirring, he nearly groaned at the pleasure of it. For several minutes they strolled in silence, wrapped in the magical mantle of night and starlight. Will could not help but remember the starry night she’d said goodbye to him…that unforgettable kiss that had shaken him to the core. Did she remember it, too?
He wanted nothing more than to kiss her again.
As if on cue, Barrows emerged from the shadows and approached the duenna, one hand grasping his other wrist as he held it up and out. From what he pantomimed to the duenna, he had cut himself and needed her assistance
Not easily distracted from her charge, the duenna seemed to be telling him where in the house to return for assistance, instructions Barrows apparently did not understand in the slightest. While he gestured to the agitated duenna, Will rounded the corner with Allegra.
For several precious seconds, they would be alone, hidden from view by the dark bulk of the sculpted yew.
As if by unspoken agreement, they both halted. Allegra looked up at him, a tremulous smile on her lips. Will took her chin in his hand and tipped it up so he could read her eyes. The yearning he saw there sent a thrill of anticipation and desire through him. Then she stepped closer and closed her eyes, apparently eager for the kiss he was more than ready to give her.
The first brush of his lips against hers was gentle, reverent. Then need and longing merged in an explosive imperative that compelled him to tighten his embrace while his lips on hers turned hard and urgent.
Instead of struggling or protesting, she leaned into him, a little moan escaping her lips.
Lost then, Will bound her to him, devouring her lips, invading her mouth, pursuing the tongue that fenced eagerly with his. There was a roaring in his ears and blood thundered through his veins in a fierce, primitive rhythm that said mine, mine.
She was his; she must be. One way or another, he was going to win her and bring her home.
Barrows’s loud, theatrical cry of warning dragged him back to the present. Reluctantly, he broke the kiss.
Allegra stepped away from him as well, smoothing her gown before placing a trembling hand on his arm. Before he could decide whether or not to apologize, she nudged him into motion. “Your valet is a most valuable employee. I hope you pay him well.”
“For allowing me moments like the one just past, I don’t pay him nearly enough.”
“Ah, for more such moments.” Allegra sighed.
Hardly daring to hope, he said, “You would have more?”
“A lifetime,” she murmured. “And you?”
“A lifetime is not long enough,” he said with feeling.
Before Will could press her further, see if by her reply she meant what he hoped she did, footsteps approached from behind them. He turned to see Allegra’s grandfather walking with a tall older man in evening dress, the jeweled medallion of some legion of merit hung on a ribbon about his neck.
“Ah, here you are, Allegra, Lord Tavener,” the duke said. “Count von Strossen, allow me to present Lord Tavener, a friend of my granddaughter who is visiting us from England. Count von Strossen is the…local representative for the Austrian government, Lord Tavener.”
It required only the moment it took Will to read the proprietary gaze the Austrian had fixed on Allegra for him to take a dislike to the man. Though the count gave Will a slight bow, his eyes remained on Allegra.
“My dear,” her grandfather continued, “Alessandro needs your assistance in the ballroom.”
“Then I shall go at once, nonno. Lord Tavener…” She pressed Will’s hand before releasing it with obvious reluctance. “Thank you again for visiting, my lord. I hope to see much of you in the coming days.”
“Let me walk you in,” the count said.
“’Tis kind of you to offer, but I wouldn’t dream of interrupting your conversation with Grandfather.”
Will wondered if the coolness in her tone was as obvious to the Austrian as it was to him. Ebullient with relief, he relaxed. Covetous Von Strossen might be, but it was clear to Will that Allegra had no interest in him.
The count stood silently watching Allegra walk into the house before turning back to his host. “’Tis the loveliest bloom in your garden, my good sir. Enjoy it, for you shall not keep it long.”
“Having just discovered so rare and lovely a blossom, I have no desire to lose it just yet,” the duke replied.
“Ah, but a rose should be picked at its peak.”
“’Tis well known that Antinori roses are always at their peak,” the duke countered.
“You are correct, I am sure.” The count gave the duke a thin smile. “However, its most ardent admirer is quite impatient to sample its fragrance.”
“Patience and self-discipline will make the prize all the sweeter,” the duke advised.
“But if the admirer becomes too impatient, he may feel compelled to pluck the rose whether the gardener is ready to relinquish it or not.”
“Pluck the rose” indeed! Anger burned in Will as he listened, wishing he had the right to confront the count. But this was the duke’s domain. He had no choice but to allow Allegra’s grandfather to handle the man—with honeyed innuendo rather than the fists Will would have preferred.
“Such an admirer would do well not to provoke the wrath of the gardener, who guards his rose well,” the duke was saying.
“A gardener who wished to prosper would be prudent not to foil the desires of one who has the power to strip from him both rose and garden,” the count replied, his tone silky.
“A man who would yield his prize and his garden so meekly does not deserve either,” the duke riposted.
“Indeed.” The count’s lips twitched as if he were suppressing a smile. “Let us hope this gardener has the wisdom to manage his garden prudently.”
“Let us indeed,” the duke agreed. He turned away from the count as a footman approached.
“Il Duce, some of the guests would like to pay their respects before returning home,” the servant said.
The duke turned to Will and the count. “Excuse me, please, but I must go in. Do linger and enjoy the night air.” With a bow to them both, the duke walked off.
Covertly Will inspected Von Strossen. He thought it unlikely that the count, who’d subjected Allegra to intense scrutiny, could have failed to notice that her treatment of Will was far warmer than the chilly indifference she offered him. So Will was not surprised when the count turned his penetrating gaze in Will’s direction.
The man actually looked down his aquiline nose at Will, his expression haughtier and more disdainful than Lynton at his most imperious. Will curled his hands into fists, his fingers itching inside his gloves.
“Lord—Tavener, is it? You are English, no? I was at the Congress of Vienna and I do not recall hearing such a name. You must be a person of no great importance. Nonetheless, let me offer you a bit of friendly advice.”
Will wished he might reply with the insult trembling on his tongue, but he didn’t want to create an incident at the court of Allegra’s grandfather. So instead he said, “And what would that be?”
“Do not turn your eyes to the Duchessa. She will be mine, and I do not suffer other men to approach her.”
“How can you be so sure? She does not appear to hold you in much affection,” Will pointed out.
The count shrugged. “Her opinion is of little importance. An alliance with the Antinoris would help solidify the position of my administration in this country, quiet some of the clamor of the lackwits who think Italy should be independent—as if this weak, puling mass of petty principalities could ever manage to shape itself into a nation! So for the advantage of us both, I have determined to take the Duchessa as my bride.”
“Whether she wishes to be or not?”
“As I said,” the count repeated a bit impatiently, “her wishes are of little importance. If her grandfather the duke knows what is good for him, he will see that she does her duty. And I must confess, a little resistance in a bride makes the game more satisfying. Ah, how I shall enjoy taming that one! She so whets my appetite with her constant temptation, I’m not sure how much longer I can wait to claim her. And so I warn you—set your eyes on another, or go back to your little island.”
