Page 98 of Tempted By the English Marquis
Gideon placed a hot kiss on the nape of her neck. “I would rather touch you this morning, my love.”
She smiled and turned, wrapping her arms around him. It was still early, and Matteo had sent word late last night that he would come for them just before eight. Thank heavens for a brother who had no intention of fighting a duel at the crack of dawn.
“Take me back to bed; show me just where you want to touch me. And where you’d like me to touch you,” she purred.
“All in good time. Let me taste you first,” said Gideon, kneeling before Serafina and setting his mouth to her heated core.
She closed her eyes and let her head fall back. “Gideon.”
* * *
The four Kembals and Viscount Flynn Cadnam left the Albergo del Sole just before eight o’clock. As soon as they stepped out into the piazza, they were greeted by the sight of the de Luca coach and its liveried servants. Matteo de Luca was leaning nonchalantly against the side of the coach, chewing on an apple.
He hailed them with a cheery. “Ciao!”
When a tearful Serafina came to him, he wrapped her up in his arms. “Congratulations, Lady Holwell. Sorry I missed your wedding; I was busy having my swords sharpened.” He gave Gideon a handshake. “You picked a fine morning to die, dear brother.”
Matteo helped the women up into the coach followed by a mystified Gideon. As he passed Flynn, his friend gave him a hopeful grin. “Well, at least you have a happy assassin.”
Reaching Palazzo Lazio, they were met by armed guards who escorted them through several of the elaborately decorated galleries and into a narrow room with a high ceiling. Gideon glanced around; he hadn’t been in this part of the palace before.
The first person he spied was Father Morris wearing his plain black cassock. Seated next to him on a long low bench was a man in a black simar with scarlet piping and matching buttons. His skullcap and waist sash were also red.
“Well, at least I have two priests here for my funeral,” he muttered.
Matteo’s hands settled on his shoulders. “That’s my great uncle, and he is a cardinal. Don’t ever let him catch you calling him a priest.”
At the end of the room was a dais with a high-backed chair. It looked for all the world like a throne. Seated on the chair was the Duke of Lazio.
Standing on the floor in front of the raised platform was Enzo de Luca. He was the first-person Gideon had seen thus far who didn’t look like he was here for a celebration. In either hand he held a long sword with the tip pointed toward the highly polished wooden floor.
Well, someone hasn’t forgotten that my blood is meant to be spilled today.
The Duchess of Mowbray stopped and took a hold of Gideon’s hand. “I love you. Whatever happens this morning, your father and I have always been proud of you.”
Augusta went to say something but promptly burst into tears. Flynn ushered her away. Gideon and Serafina remained standing together.
“Approach,” said the duke.
As they both moved forward, Enzo de Luca stabbed the end of both swords into the floor. “Only Matteo and Lord Holwell. My daughter stays back.”
More people now entered the room. Count Nico, Contessa Isabelle, and Donna Francesca. They moved to join the rest of the gathered witnesses.
When Gideon and Matteo were close to Enzo, the Duke of Lazio held up his hand. “Brother, please put the swords down. I will hear your complaint, but not while you are armed to the teeth.”
A fuming Enzo let the swords drop to the floor, where they landed with a loud clatter. He turned to the duke. “My daughter has been tainted and soiled outside of marriage. Her virginity stolen by that man. I demand satisfaction by duel to the death.”
He pointed at Gideon.
The duke nodded. “And what do you say to this accusation, Lord Holwell?”
Gideon straightened his spine. “I have lain with my wife. Serafina and I were married yesterday by Father Morris of the Church of England.”
Enzo shook his head. “No. I do not recognize this marriage. It was not in the Holy Catholic Church; therefore, it is a lie.”
Matteo turned and beckoned his mother and the cardinal to come forward. The cardinal handed him a piece of rolled parchment, and Serafina’s brother bowed to him.
“Thank you, Your Eminence.” He strode forward and handed the paper to his uncle.
