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Louisa came walking out of the main entrance as Lucia grabbed her case. Louisa looked distracted, as if her mind were on a hundred other things. She hadn’t even noticed their return.
‘Louisa?’ he said, trying to be heard above the building work around them. She was frowning and it marred her pretty face. Her hair was pulled back in a rumpled knot and her long tunic looked like yesterday’s.
Her head flicked up. ‘Logan.’ Her eyes darted over to Lucia. ‘Lucia. You’re both back.’ She walked over quickly. ‘Do you have news?’
Lucia gave her a cautious smile. ‘We do. The fresco is by Burano, he lived and worked in the Renaissance period and we have other examples of his work. He was both a painter and a sculptor. We’re making arrangements to look at the sculpture on the fountain in the village. It could be another piece of his work.’
Louisa gave a smile and a quick nod. ‘That’s great. Really great. What happens next?’
Lucia glanced towards Logan. It was obvious that she was picking up the same vibes that he was. Louisa’s body language was all over the place. She was saying the right words but her hands were continually knotting in front of her abdomen.
‘Things will be fine. I’ll begin the restoration work on the fresco. It could take a few months. All the costs will be covered by the Italian Heritage Board.’
‘A few months?’ Louisa looked shocked. ‘But what about—?’
Logan stepped forward and took her arm, cutting her off. ‘Are you okay? Don’t worry about Lucia’s work. It won’t interfere with any of the plans here.’ He nodded towards Lucia. ‘We’ll make sure of that.’ He lowered his voice. ‘Is this about the headlines? We saw them when we landed at the airport. Is the wedding still going ahead? Is there anything you need to tell us?’
Louisa’s face tightened and she pressed her lips together. ‘Of course the wedding is still going ahead. There’s nothing to tell. Nothing to tell at all.’
It was clear by the tone of her voice that she wasn’t willing to discuss anything.
She waved her hand towards the palazzo. ‘Lucia, you’re welcome to stay here, but...’ she glanced at Lucia’s stuffed suitcase ‘...you might need to make other arrangements while the wedding is taking place.’
Logan turned and stared at Lucia just as she turned and stared at him. Both of them had wide eyes. It was like a cartoon scene. It was something that hadn’t occurred to either of them.
Of course Lucia would need somewhere to stay for the next few months. He’d invited her to stay with him in the farmhouse, but that had been when they’d been at the top of the campanile. It seemed like a million years ago. She’d promised to consider it and they hadn’t discussed it again since.
He knew that he should say something here.
Logan’s arrangement was different from everyone else’s. He was staying in one of the old converted farmhouses on the estate. It was comfortable. It was private. And it was big enough for two people.
There were two reasonable-sized bedrooms. He had hardly set foot in the other one—even though he could have used it as his office. His computer and paperwork were currently spread over the dining-room table. Dining for one didn’t really require the full use of the table.
He caught a glimpse of the expression on Louisa’s face. She was caught in the middle, probably unable to fathom out what their relationship was. She waved her hand. ‘I’ll leave that to you two.’ She walked away into the vineyards.
Lucia was watching her retreating back. ‘Do you think she’s okay?’
He shrugged. ‘She certainly didn’t want to be drawn into any gossip. She could be worried about how this could affect the prospects for the vineyard and the palazzo. I can only assume that the wedding costs are covering all the renovations around here. If they back out now...’ He let his voice drift off. They both knew exactly what that could mean for Louisa.
Lucia gave a little nod and tugged at her case. ‘In that case, I have things I need to do. I’m going back to chart some of the fresco and make an approximate estimate of how long the restoration work will take. I’ll share the timetable with you when it’s finished.’
Logan looked around. There was a mountain of work here for him too. A little gust of wind swept past and carried Lucia’s rose-scented perfume towards him.
He cringed as it automatically evoked memories in his brain. Nights. Days. Passion. Love. And loss
