Page 57 of Tempted By the English Marquis
“You look like you have seen a ghost, Lord Holwell,” said Flynn.
A stunned Gideon nodded. “I thought you were dead. So does most of London. Your uncle has been trying to get a formal inquiry established into your disappearance, but your father refused to help. I can’t believe you are alive!”
He dropped his arms before offering a waving apology to the tailor, who simply shook his head and walked away. Hopefully he had the right measurements. Gideon’s interest in his new clothing had evaporated the second he set eyes on his long-lost friend.
“You are a sight for sore eyes. A miracle beyond anything I could have ever prayed for. What the devil…” Emotion threatened to overwhelm him. Flynn was alive.
A chuckling Flynn embraced Gideon, hugging him tight. “More like what the devil are you doing in Rome? I never thought you would travel any farther afield than your uncle’s drafty castle in Scotland.”
Flynn had spent two weeks of a particularly chilly autumn at Strathmore Castle and had never let Gideon hear the end of it.
Gideon stood staring at his friend. He was in shock and also in possession of bone-deep relief at seeing his friend alive. Any moment now he was going to burst into tears.
I thought I looked like a rag-and-bone man, but he looks like he has been through hell.
Flynn drew back, his tear-glazed eyes tracing Gideon’s form. “You have lost a bit of weight since I last saw you, Gideon Kembal. Good for you. I always thought you were headed for the portly side of things.”
Gideon held his words. Flynn’s attire was grubby and battered. His hair, badly cut. And when it came to weight loss, Flynn had Gideon beat. His cheeks were sunken. He was alive, but he had clearly been through hell.
Say something. Anything.
“It has been well over a year since you walked out of Whites’ club and disappeared, Lord Cadnam. Dead men might tell no tales, but you seem quite capable of offering up an insult or two.”
He would stand here all day and happily listen to his friend’s insults.
“I can guess where the dead rumors came from—my father. I expect he would like nothing better than to see me six feet under, the avaricious swine. I live just to spite him,” replied Flynn.
Viscount Cadnam had suddenly disappeared from London more than a year ago. Within days, the gossip mill of thetonhad swung into action. Various stories had started up, but the only one which seem to have gained any real traction was that the young viscount had been most foully murdered.
A moment of silence fell between them, and Gideon sensed that Flynn didn’t want to say anything further in public. Earl Bramshaw had never been one for hiding his dislike of his son and heir. He had been nothing short of a terrible father to Flynn.
His interest in being fitted for clothes now gone, Gideon reached for his waistcoat and jacket. If they needed any more measurements, the tailors knew where to find him.
“Your father put a story about town that one of the Bramshaw House servants might have murdered you. But no one could locate the man he had fingered for the crime. How did you end up in Rome?”
Flynn shrugged. “Thanks to my father, the past year has been a long and not very pleasant one for me. But as they say all roads lead to Rome, so here I am. What about you?”
“I’m in Rome with my mother and eldest sister,” said Gideon.
His friend’s face turned ashen. “Augusta is here in Rome?” muttered Flynn.
“Yes, she and Serafina de Luca have gone up the street to one of the other shops. You remember Serafina? She stayed with our family for a time a little while back.”
Flynn nodded absently at the mention of the Kembal household guest. “Yes, fetching creature. Couldn’t understand why you didn’t snap her up. But you aren’t the brightest when it comes to women. They can be sending you all the signals they like, and you remain oblivious to them.”
Flynn’s take on Gideon was disturbingly accurate. Gideon was often at a loss when it came to the less sexually forward members of the female sex. Reading subtle signs wasn’t something he had yet mastered.
Which means I need to speak to Serafina and make things patently clear about how I feel. Then I need to ask for her take on the situation. That kiss was a good start, but I need to know more.
It was too dangerous to go bumbling about figuratively in the dark. If he and the Italian beauty could talk and come to an agreement about where they stood as a possible couple, it would help him make firm plans.
Flynn’s gaze darted back to the door. He bounced up and down on his feet. Something was making him anxious. “Where are you staying in Rome, Gideon?”
“Palazzo Lazio. Mama and G have been here for a number of months. I only arrived yesterday morning. If you are happy to wait for a few minutes, Augusta and Serafina will be returning. We were planning on going to get a bite to eat. You are most welcome to join us. I’m sure G would be delighted to see you. She took your disappearance rather hard.”
Flynn glanced down at his clothes, then slowly shook his head. “I don’t want Augusta to see me like this, I look nothing better than a street-worn beggar. Which unfortunately until only a matter of days ago I was.” The sadness in his voice was heartbreaking. The viscount had clearly suffered a hard life since his disappearance. “I will send word to Palazzo Lazio, I live not far from there.” He gave Gideon a hopeful grin. “It’s so good to see a friendly face. We shall talk soon. Would you let Augusta know you saw me.”
“Of course, I will tell her. But please send word as soon as you can. I am here for you.”
