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I don’t believe I ever knew a more dedicated father, Uncle Alfred had explained.There was always a darkness to Edward, even when we were schoolboys, but Alec brought him suchjoy. He had been well for so long that no one expected him to fall as far as he did after the loss of his wife. I was in Venice at the time, but Edward refused to see anyone. Even Alec couldn’t pull him out of it. No matter how hard he tried. I never saw anything so heartbreaking as the image of that boy pounding helplessly on the door of his father’s study. Sometimes he spent all day at it. But Edward never let him in. Not once.
This revelation had stunned Lottie.What must it have been like to fight so desperately for his father’s life, she had wondered,and still lose?
Alec had been gone for three years at that point, and so her newfound sympathy eventually faded away; but now, in the face of his obvious grief, her heart broke all over again for him. He certainly wouldn’t want her pity, though. And it seemed that he didn’t want her help, either. She pulled open the door to reveal two maids holding a sizable tin tub, while two more carried a large cistern of steaming water between them. All four were dark-haired beauties, likely sisters, who looked incredibly perturbed to be there. Until they caught sight of Alec.
“Buona sera.” Lottie waved them in and stepped aside.
The maids marched into the room and began setting up the bath with swift, competent movements. Two poured the water into the bath, while another added a generous helping of sweet-smelling oil and flower petals from a small basket. The fourth retrieved a screen from a corner of the room and neatly arranged it by a chair laden with fresh towels. All the while, each one took every opportunity to throw brazen looks at Alec. If they had actually been married, Lottie would have been rather piqued—not that she could blame them.
Alec leaned against the balcony’s doorway with his hands in his pockets and his eyes cast down, oblivious to their attentions; his mouth was set in a hard line and his brow was furrowed in deep concentration. The setting sun bathed him in that perfect pinkish glow artists only dream of. He resembled a powerful Roman general mulling over strategy on the eve of battle.
Lottie’s heart beat even faster than before, when she stood frozen in the doorway taking far too much pleasure in his declaration.
Youarevery beautiful.
She had thought herself long immune to the shallow flatteries of men, so it was unsettling how badly she had wanted to believe him. But to what end? Finding her attractive certainly hadn’t stopped him from leaving five years ago. No, there was little to be gained by catching the eye of a man. Better to be treated with respect, considered an equal. Though that seemed even more elusive. Lottie began riffling through her carpet bag, if only to have something to do besides stare at him.
After the maids finished preparing the bath, Alec gave each of them a coin. They all finally deigned to speak and made a great show of profusely thanking him. The prettiest one even went so far as to place a palm on his chest, cooing, “Sei un uomo così gentile, generoso.” Alec’s only response was to pluck her hand off his person. She gave a haughty sniff at his rejection and swept grandly out of the room while the other three followed. Not one spared Lottie even a glance.
She rolled her lips between her teeth, trying to contain her laughter, but it was no use. Alec shot her an irritated look but he, too, was fighting back a smile.
“You might want to apologize to the young lady. I see a great future for you here, working alongside Signore Garda.”
Alec raised an eyebrow, amused. “Is that so?” He rubbed his jaw in mock consideration. “I suppose there are some similarities between espionage and innkeeping.”
“You must admit, it would be an excellent cover.”
“That is true. You’d be surprised by how useful innkeepers are.”
Her smile faded at the unintended implication of his words. “Yes. I can imagine.” Alec must have questioned the innkeeper in Florence, a sharp-eyed British emigre. Lottie had taken pains to avoid the older man when she slipped away from the pension, but perhaps she had not been so careful.
He seemed to guess at her thoughts. “You take your time here,” he said, gesturing to the bath. “I’ll go see about our dinner. Make sure that door stays locked.”
Then he was gone before Lottie could manage another word.
By the time Alec returned, Lottie had washed, dried, and changed. After a bit of dithering she had donned a pale blue tea gown, as her sensible skirt and blouse were dusty from the road. If she had still been in her cottage, she wouldn’t have given it a thought, but the lacy gown was designed for more intimate company and meant to be worn without a corset. Lottie then chided herself for evenworryingabout such a thing. It seemed unlikely that Alec would be scandalized, if he even noticed.
Lottie sat in a chair by the window plaiting her damp hair and watching the sky turn ever deeper shades of pink when she heard the key in the lock. The door swung open, and Alec bent down to retrieve the tray he had brought up with him. As he entered, a heavenly smell filled the room, and Lottie’s stomach quietly rumbled. It had been hours since their respite by the river, though it felt far longer.
“I’ve brought provisions,” Alec announced as he moved to set the tray down on the table bearing two plates of food, a small pitcher of water, and two glasses. “Roasted chicken. Signore Garda assured me they still use their nonna’s recipe. I—” He glanced up as she stood and paused.
His eyes moved steadily down her form with such deliberateness that it nearly felt like a caress. Lottie stood a little straighter and tried to ignore the growing appreciation in them. It didnotmatter. And she didnotcare. When she took a step forward, Alec’s eyes leapt back to her face before he immediately looked away.
“I—here,” he mumbled as he set the tray down on the table. “Here it is.”
Lottie took a seat. “It smells delicious,” she said briskly, hoping to cut the tension that suddenly filled the air. “Won’t you sit down?”
Alec shook his head emphatically, as if she had offered him poison. He took a large step back from both the table and her. “I’ll wash up. Before the water goes cold.” Lottie gave an artfully careless shrug and picked up a fork. But Alec remained in place watching her. She cast him an inquisitive glance and he snapped to attention and moved toward the tub behind her.
As she cut into the tender chicken, the screen scraped along the floor. She smiled to herself. Who knew Alec was so modest? But then came the telltale rustling of clothing being removed. Lottie’s throat suddenly went bone dry, and she poured herself a glass of water from the pitcher. Just as she brought it to her lips, there was a light splash as Alec stepped into the tub. She immediately pictured one long, well-muscled leg joining the other as he slowly eased himself into the tepid water. Alec let out a faint sigh and the water sloshed around the tub, making room for his tall frame. Lottie took a generous sip from her cup and attempted to focus on her food. It was excellent. If Signore Garda’snonnawere here, Lottie would compliment her profusely. Then again, the woman would likely be far too preoccupied by the large, naked man in the tub behind her…
Lottie gave herself a shake and cut off another piece of chicken, but as she began to chew, Alec started humming the “Major-General’s Song” fromThe Pirates of Penzance.
Lottie began to mutter the lyrics while she ate, all in a losing battle to distract herself.
I am the very model of a modern Major-General,
I’ve information vegetable, animal, and mineral…
