The old woman spat at the toe of his boots. “You ruined any chance of my daughter ever making a good match! You will at least give her your name now that you have taken her spotless reputation.”
“He will do no such thing,” Lia stated with venomous anger. Ren stared at her in amazement. “This was a plan that you and Ottavia concocted.” He watched closely as Lia stood up to her aunt and began reciting what she saw and heard.
“I stood at the open door and listened as your daughter began some sad tale about wanting to leave your house and go to England with us. She’d never be able to create any such tale on her own—much less act on it. Neither of your children have a backbone stronger than pasta morbida. Her lines were practiced, and she is a horrible actress.” Lia stepped closer to Ren and added, “By the way, that was one of my dresses you tore.”
“It was a cheap rag!” The aunt turned to him, and he could see she knew she was trapped. “Your Grace,” she said, and immediately her eyes grew wide as she realized her mistake.
She addressed him by his title. “Wait. What makes you think I’m a noble? We told no one here, not even the innkeeper.”
“Sta puttana, addressed you as such in front of the seamstresses and you responded,” she stated. “It was an easy deduction.”
He was sure now. No woman was ever to be trusted. Ever.
He glared down at the shriveled face of the old hag before him. “Your niece is going to be my wife in a matter of hours. She will outrank you, and my children will outrank you. You will not stand in the way of my wife and her brother gaining their inheritance. You will replace any and all funds you have removed from her accounts, including the allowances you stole from the time you removed her from her home in Naples. Is this understood?” Ren didn’t bother waiting for a reply. He could tell by the growing anger in the old woman’s face that she understood his less than perfect Italian. “If you ever so much as breathe a negative comment about my wife, I will ruin you. You are fortunate we do not go to the authorities with the truth. For you will be facing charges of attempting to murder my future wife and her brother.”
Lia looked at him and asked, “Maura?”
“I never touched her,” the aunt hissed at Lia. “You have no proof that the boy’s nurse did not die a natural death.”
“But I have a witness to what happened here today,” he continued in a barely controlled voice. “Since your daughter was weak enough to agree to your hair-brained scheme, she deserves whatever ostracism she faces in the years to come.” He began to pace the length of the room. “In all my years, I have never hit a woman no matter the circumstance. But you, Contessa, might just be the first if you don’t get out of my life. Now you can either walk out that door, or I can throw you out that window.” He pointed at the wall of tall windows that faced the front of the building. “The choice is yours.”
The old woman’s stare was hard and angry as she looked from him to Lia and back. She turned to leave, but not before pointing at Lia and cursing her one more time, before quitting the room.
“Tu veramente sei una puttana opportunistica!”
“Guardare ti specchio,” Lia hissed.
If it were possible, the old woman turned even redder. Her back stiffened as she motioned for her daughter to follow. The girl passed by the doorway, clutching her cloak about her once again, still crying.
Ren looked at Lia. He was already exhausted from the day’s events. He pulled out the chair at the small writing desk and lowered his body into it. Dropping his head between his hands, he rubbed his eyes. “That didn’t sound like an apology. What did she say?”
“She called me an opportunistic whore.”
“And what did you reply?”
“I told her to look in a mirror.”
He chuckled at Lia’s quick-witted retort. “You were right. She truly is evil.”
Looking up to his rescuer, who stood with her hair still wrapped in a thin cotton towel, Ren said, “Thank you. I don’t know what I would have done if you hadn’t witnessed the girl’s actions.”
“I saw nothing.” She pulled the towel from her head, allowing her wet hair to cascade about her shoulders.
He stared at her, amazed and grateful for her assistance. “Then how did you know?”
Lia returned his steady gaze. “Don’t you think it odd that my aunt and her housekeeper arrived before anyone had gone for them? I told you to beware of her. I warned you.”
Ren wearily rubbed his eyes. “You are right. Everything happened so quickly.” He glanced up at her again. “You made assumptions. But, what if you had been wrong?”
“I know my aunt, and what she is capable of. As much as I may dislike the situation I am in, I could never bring myself to do the wicked, evil deeds she does.” She turned and walked toward the door, only his words stopped her from leaving.
“You would run away instead, breaking your word and jeopardizing your brother’s health.”
Her green-eyed gaze was filled with angry slivers of gold as she said, “After overhearing your words yesterday, I had nothing to lose.”
He owed her an explanation. But now was not the time, as the priest from the local church was due soon. He didn’t know what she overheard yesterday, but evidently she thought him insincere in his urgent need for a wife and an heir. Whatever it was, it motivated her attempted escape last night.
Just then Flynn walked in carrying a large package in his arms. He handed it to Lia, who turned to Ren curiously.
“There’s more downstairs,” Flynn said. “Shall I have it all sent to the ship?”
“Yes, and did you get the other I asked for?”
He patted his pocket. “Of course.”
“Thank you. Send someone for Cully and the boy.”
Lia looked at him, steadily. “I will not marry you.”
He took a slow, deep breath to calm himself. She was trying his patience. “You will,” he replied, staring at her immobile form.
“I will not marry you,” she said, her fists clenched before her, her expression so tense he felt the anger coming off her. “I will not marry you until you promise never to separate me from my children.”
“You will,” he said. “Remember the bargain, Lia. Your brother for my heir.” Ren removed the gold watch from his pocket and popped opened the cover. “Now go and prepare yourself. The priest will arrive shortly, and the papers needing our signatures await us below.” He snapped the lid shut and replaced it in the pocket of his waistcoat.
“And if I do not?”
“Don’t defy me Lia. I have had enough today. If you aren’t ready when I come across for you, you will be married in whatever you are, or are not, wearing at the time.”
Her eyes narrowed as her lips grew taut. Ren thought he saw the muscle in her cheek twitch before she turned and left the room.
Lia struggled with the tiny buttons on the back of the pale yellow dress when a light rap sounded at her door. “Go away!” she shouted. The person on the other side knocked again, this time a little harder. With a look on her face she was sure reflected her mood, she swung the door open expecting to find Ren on the other side. Instead, she found the maid, Ghita, black-eyed and with a swollen bruise on her jaw.
Shame washed over Lia at the sight of the young woman’s pain. If she could turn back time, she would never have asked the girl for help.
“His Grace says you have three minutes to get to the front parlor downstairs or he will come for you himself,” the maid said.
“Sta cornuto,” Lia muttered. “He thinks the world revolves around him. Well, it doesn’t! How did he think I would get into this impossible dress?”
“I’ll do the rest of your buttons, my lady,” Ghita offered.
She turned and let the maid finish dressing her. Ghita then began to comb the tangles from Lia’s hair and styled the wavy mass up and fastened it with several pins before adding the small, matching veil over her head. The maid then placed the slippers on the floor and Lia stepped into them.
Ghita looked over Lia’s gown with wide eyes. “You are very beautiful, my lady. Your man is very fortunate to have you for his bride.”
“Tell him that.” Lia took a deep breath. When she was ready, she opened the door, walked down the steps and into the front parlor, where the maid said Ren waited. Luchino stood next to Ren wearing a set of new clothing and shoes. When the boy recognized her, he ran across the room and into Lia’s open arms. She pushed him back so she could inspect him.
“Luchino, how are you? Are they treating you well?”
“Lia, Lia. You should see! I have my own room on the ship and new clothes and shoes. The cook is my friend now, and so is Signore Cully. I’m going to be a captain of a ship one day. It’s so much fun!”
Finally the boy stopped for a breath. Lia hugged him close once more, and he pulled away. “I can’t play with girls anymore. I’m a little man now. Signore Cully said so.”
“Yes, I see you are.” Lia looked up to Ren with grateful eyes, thanking him for her brother’s life.
“Come, Lia,” Ren said. “Our fate awaits.” They signed the license and church register with the priest and innkeeper as witnesses. She straightened and slowly stepped toward Ren. He wore a pristine white shirt tucked into black breeches that fit his well-muscled thighs to perfection. Over that, he wore a double-breasted dress coat with large lapels, coming to just below his waist. It, too, fit him perfectly, as though tailored onto him.
His face bore an impatient expression as his cool silver eyes focused on her. If he thought staring daggers at her would hurry her along, he had much to learn about her. She turned away from his gaze to smile warmly at the young, dark-haired priest who stood next to Ren.
“Buon giorno, padre,” she said softly.
The priest returned her greeting. “Are you ready to proceed?”
“I am not given a choice in the matter,” she replied.
Ren turned to the priest. “Father, as I told you earlier, she’s not thinking clearly. There is the possibility she carries my child as we speak, so time is of the essence.”
The priest turned to Lia. “Is this true?”
Afraid of seeing the disappointment in the priest’s eyes, she lowered her gaze and nodded.
She felt Ren’s burning glare, as he said to the priest. “Please begin.”
In the front parlor of the inn, with several of Ren’s men and Luchino as witness, she and the Englishman became man and wife. Lia didn’t remember much of it, except that she responded appropriately when asked if she would have Marcus Renfield Sewell Halden, ninth Duke of Caversham, as her husband for the rest of her life.
How could she not answer in the affirmative when he glared down at her, trying to intimidate her as he did? As His Grace placed a thin gold band on the third finger of her left hand, a strange, warm tingling traveled slowly up her arm and through her body, to settle in her belly. The rational part of her knew it was just Ren’s touch that caused the strange sensation, not the piece of gold around her finger.
She tried to pull her hand away from his, but he held her fast, probably afraid she might flee with her brother again. After the priest signed his name to the license and blew sand over the ink, he rolled it and handed it to Ren, who had to let her hand go in order to give the priest a leather pouch. He tucked the rolled parchment under his arm and began to issue orders to his men.
The priest opened the pouch and peered inside. “Santa Maria!” His brown eyes went wide with shock at the amount of coin in the bag. “Your Grace, you are indeed very generous. This is more gold than my small church sees in a year’s time!”
Ren pulled Lia next to him, putting his arm around her. “Consider it our gift to your parish for the service you did for us this day.”
“There are many families who will benefit from your unselfish donation, Your Grace. Mille grazie.” With that, the priest left.
Lia glimpsed Ghita standing in the doorway, watching tears falling from the maid’s eyes. The innkeeper’s wife shouted at her, ordering her to get busy cleaning the rooms upstairs. Feeling responsible for the other girl’s condition, Lia had an idea.
She hugged her brother one last time before he left with Cully. It seemed Ren had assigned Luchino to be in Cully’s charge, and the little boy was ecstatic at the idea of following a ship captain around.
After her brother was out of sight, Lia turned to Ren. “May I have a word with you, Your Grace?”
One black brow arched up curiously. “Yes?”
“I was thinking,” Lia said, “that I will be in need of a ladies’ maid. Will I not?”
“Not any time soon.”
Lia turned and worried her lower lip. There really was no other way around it. She’d just have to ask him. Turning back she stared into his hard eyes, all the while hating the position he’d placed her in. “Can I please hire the girl, Ghita, as my maid?” When he didn’t respond, she continued. “I feel responsible for what happened to her. No woman deserves to be beaten, whether she be low born or not.”
“As you said, you are responsible for the punishment meted out to her this morn.”
Her face burned with shame. She lowered her gaze. “And I would now correct that wrong by offering her a position in my employ. With me, she would never have to worry about being struck again.”
“No.”
Lia always did have a difficult time feigning meekness. “As the wife of a duke, will I not require someone to attend me?”
“You will. Once we arrive in England.”
“All right then. I would request that my ladies’ maid be someone I trust. Someone I can communicate with in my native tongue.”
“She is also someone who has helped you escape me once. How could I ever trust her? Besides, you speak English well enough.” He moved closer and stroked her cheek with his knuckles. “And with a very captivating accent.”
He attempted to distract her, so she turned from his touch, intent on helping the maid. “But…”
“My answer is no.” Ren took her by the arm and led her from the room. “Come, Lia. We sail with the evening tide, and we have a stop to make.”
They crossed the lobby of the inn and she saw the innkeeper’s wife again strike Ghita as the old woman scolded the maid for something. Lia tugged against Ren’s grip, wanting to do something to help the girl.
He tightened his grip on her arm, and pushed her toward the door right as they all heard a scream and a crash. Lia turned to see the maid fall, along with the buckets she carried, spilling water on the inn’s wooden floors. The innkeeper’s wife kicked at her, and the maid cringed, trying to move away from the old woman’s booted foot.
Lia turned to him and pleaded for the girl’s safety one more time. “Please, Ren, please! I promise I’ll never run from you again. Just save the girl from this place. Even if she does not come with me.”
He led her out of the inn and onto the sidewalk, where Cully and Luchino waited. “Go to your brother and stand with him.” He motioned to Captain Cully, and watched her closely as he spoke in low tones with him. When he was done, Ren led Lia to the carriage that waited to carry them to the docks.
“Aren’t my brother and your man coming with us?”
“Cully needs to see to the removal of our belongings before he meets up with us on the pier.”
“But what about…?”
With a look he quieted her. And she turned away from him and kissed her brother, promising to see him later. They made one stop in the business district where she and her new husband visited with the guardian of her trust with proof of their marriage. Ren then gave the man the address in London of the bank in which he wanted the funds transferred. Upon their return to the carriage, the rest of the short ride to the docks was done in complete silence.