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“Well, it won’t be easy. Every year I seem to get weaker and less capable, but luckily we’re wealthy enough to have servants to do a lot of the work. I’m thinking of planting Mizuna this year, have you heard of it?”
I thought for a moment. “Salad leaves? I think Uncle had some growing wild on his estate.”
“That’s right, although it won’t be growing wild in these temperatures.” She rolled her eyes. “There was a traveling salesman from the east last year, and I bought some seeds from him. It sounds very easy to cultivate, and will give some variety to the usual vegetable boxes we hand out.”
“Easy or difficult, I’m sure you can manage it. You always did have a green thumb.”
“Yes, one thing neither of my boys seem to have inherited. Perhaps I can get Valeria involved, whoever she chooses to marry.”
That again? “I don’t think she has much choice in the matter, mother. I should get going though—”
“Don’t dismiss her just yet. I’ve never known a Saint Theodora’s girl to simply accept what fate hands her, and neither should you or Petre. If she’s not willful, I’ll be surprised.”
I smiled. “Of course. You know best, as always. But honestly, I don’t think Petre will allow her much freedom to be willful. You know how he is. I really must get going now. I want to sneak out before anyone can force me to join the others for dessert.” I checked the clock. “Or port and cheese, depending on how far along this meal already is.”
My mother laughed. “I shouldn’t encourage that. But you always were the independent one, and I can’t help liking that about you. Go now, while the servants are all busy with attending on the family.”
I smiled, took her hand, kissed her fingers and turned to go, but before I could slip out of the door, she called my name.
“Vasile?”
“Yes, mother?”
“It’s good to be independent. But it’s better to find the person that completes your soul. I should know. What I have with your father…” She took a deep breath, the smile spreading over her face, making her look ten years younger and in full health. “We were meant for each other. And there’s someone out there that is meant for you, too. Don’t let her pass you by because you’re too busy with other things.”
She stopped and considered for a moment, then nodded.
“Or because she happens to be engaged to someone else,” she added, as I turned to leave.
CHAPTER 3
Valeria
The only one who could save me, according to my father, was a no-show for our big dinner.
But Petre, much to my surprise, was not at all what I expected. I had heard so many rumors about him that I was expecting a monster.
What I was met with instead was well-spoken, elegant man, who seemed interested and respectful toward me. He asked me about our journey, offered me his arm and told me that if there was anything I needed to make my life more comfortable he would, of course, provide it. I felt no great affection for him, but my fear dissipated quickly. If I could fault him for one thing, it was that he was very clearly and very aggressively undressing me with his eyes. And a great deal more than that, too. I had once heard the term “eye fucking,” and I knew now exactly what that meant.
Every time I met his gaze, my cheeks flushed, my skin prickling with heat. Such hunger and desire, it hardly seemed polite. And I certainly didn’t return his “affection”, if you can call it that.
But even that seemed, oddly enough, somewhat acceptable. He was certainly attractive, even I had to admit that. I could see why most women would find my position right now enviable. He had dark hair and dark eyes and even his notorious limp, the source of so much gossip, was hardly noticeable. I never judged people by their misfortunes, and Petre matched his disability with an admirable air of confidence.
His suit for the evening was clearly expensive, and a bit over the top. A man who liked attention, I surmised. He wore extravagant rings and a sapphire and diamond neckpiece that looked a century out of place.
Seated at the long, polished mahogany dining table, were Petre and his father, Francis Greengallow. Though the old man had all the trappings and behaviors of a mafia king—the pinkie ring, the raw calm, the sense of power, the slightly off-color jokes—I found that I liked him very much. He was warm and curious, and seemed genuinely happy at the prospect of having me as a daughter-in-law.
“Having a lady to help run the house will be a damned good thing,” he said. “And my wife will be so grateful to have you here as well. I do apologize for her absence; she was simply too weak today.”
