Page 30 of Tempted By the English Marquis
Gideon had never seen anything like it. It put the English Prince Regent’s usual carriage to pitiful shame.
When Gideon caught Nico’s eye, the count simply shrugged. “My family doesn’t do things by half. The noble families of Rome are particular about displaying their wealth and power.”
“You don’t say.”
When Nico ushered him into the coach, Gideon’s eyes grew even wider. The walls were lined with fine red wool, and the curtains were hung in a matching silk fabric. He sank down opposite the count onto one of the gold-colored overstuffed cushions, which served as seats.
“Oh,” he murmured.
It was in stark contrast to what he had experienced over the past six weeks. His cabin on board the boat had been functional, offering little in the way of creature comforts.
I could get used to this without any effort.
“This is rather luxurious, Nico. My ass says to offer you its profound gratitude.”
A smiling, Nico motioned toward theAventino.“You did rough it for the voyage over from England. We have better ships for passengers such as yourself to travel in.” He fell silent for a moment, and Gideon got the impression the count was choosing his next words carefully. “Something tells me, Lord Holwell, that you were not prepared to wait for one of our other vessels. That time was of the essence.”
Gideon gave a brief nod but didn’t add anything further. He might well have his firm grievances with his mother, but Lady Anne still had the right to hear how things were from him before he spoke to anyone else.
A footman came to the door of the carriage. Nico spoke a few words to him in Italian, and the man bowed. He turned the handle and pushed the door closed.
Sitting back in the seat opposite to Gideon, Nico reached over and lifted the lid of the wooden box which was situated to the left of him. The box had been built into the bench, effectively splitting it into two separate seats.
Smart. It serves as a storage space and an arm rest.
Nico took out two small wine glasses and handed them to Gideon. To Gideon’s delight, the count then produced a large cask and poured them both a drink of wine.
After taking one of the glasses, Nico held it up. “Alla nostra salute. Which in English means, to our health.”
“Happy Easter,” replied Gideon.
He took a sip of the wine, and it wasn’t just his backside which was filled with joy. The wine was light. It was sweet. And it went down beautifully. Gideon let out a sigh. “This is magnificent.”
Nico gave him the smile of one who is happy to share his secret pleasure. “It’s a dolcetto, from the northwest. I am partial to lighter wine, especially when travelling. It makes the long journey back to Rome that much easier.”
Rome.Gideon was finally on the last leg of his trip. Tonight, he would be in the Eternal City. More importantly, he would see his mother and sister.
The carriage jolted as it lurched forward. The cheerful cries of farewell drifted to his ears from up on top.
“What are they saying?” Gideon asked.
“The coach servants and the ship’s crew are all wishing one another a Happy Easter and the blessings of our Lord. It’s a tradition. This land is everything when it comes to traditions and celebrations.”
“Speaking of lands, I had forgotten that your wife was originally from England.”
A smiling Nico nodded. “I met Isabelle in London. She was a widowed tenant of mine. Like your good self, I arrived in the middle of a festive holiday and had nowhere to stay. Isabelle kindly offered me a room over Christmas. One thing led to another . . .”
“My cousin Francis Saunders says that fate plays a hand in where and when we find love. Only a fool ignores the signs.”
“Wise words indeed. I hope that when fate smiles upon you Gideon, that you heed his advice.”
A nodding, Gideon shifted in his seat trying to adjust his clothes. Every time he sat down, he found his trousers had slipped and he had to pull them back up. “I lost a lot of weight on the sea voyage. None of my clothes fit. It’s like I am a young boy trying on his father’s suits.”
“Not a good sailor?” asked Nico.
“No. In fact, if my cousin’s wife Poppy hadn’t packed a large box of ginger tea with me and shown me how to use the pressure points on my wrists, I am certain I wouldn’t have made it all this way.”
Nico’s brows rose. “Poppy? She wouldn’t happen to be Poppy Basden—or at least that was her name before she was married—would she? I don’t know too many women with that name who are also proficient with Chinese acupuncture. Does she own a ship with a lion’s head on its prow?”
