Page 25 of Tempted By the English Marquis
Serafina reached out and took hold of her friend’s hand. “I’m sorry; that was thoughtless of me. Sometimes I forget that you expected to be betrothed over a year ago. I can’t begin to imagine how hard things have been for you not knowing what happened to Viscount Cadnam.”
Augusta had privately revealed her secret romance with an English nobleman. A passionate love which should have resulted in them marrying. Instead, early the previous year the viscount had disappeared without a trace.
“It’s another reason why I want to go home. To find out what happened to him. But enough about me. What are we going to do about you and this mystery man?” asked Augusta.
Serafina considered that last thought for a moment. What was she going to do? It was not as if she could avoid the marriage if her father contracted it for her.
Who knows? He might well be kind. We could have a marriage of understanding.
Even as she imagined that possibility, her heart told her otherwise. Her mother rarely crossed her father. For them to be embroiled in a blazing row, Donna Francesca must have solid reasons to be so dead set against the union.
“I don’t know anything about Giovanni Magri, but I think between us, you and I should endeavor to find out what we can. The first thing I want to do is to get a good idea of his reputation,” said Serafina.
I would also love to get a look at him. Does he have a kind bearing about him?
If her future husband was a nice man, it would go a long way to settling Serafina’s concerns. But the thought of her mother’s reaction still sat heavy in her mind. There was far too much to consider. Plans within plans. All it did was give her a headache.
I need some fresh air. And to stretch my legs.
Getting out for a walk would not only do her mind a power of good, but it would mean she was conveniently absent if either of her parents sent for her. Neither would actually come to her door, but she wasn’t in the mood for risking it. She also had another very good reason for leaving the palace.
There is someone I know who might be able to shed some light on my future husband.
“Come on, G; let’s take a stroll up to the Fontana di Trevi. We can stop at a café on the way back and get something to eat.”
Palazzo Lazio had dozens of kitchens and hundreds of staff, but nothing compared to sitting out in the sunshine in central Rome, drinking coffee while casually watching the world go by.
Augusta withdrew her hand from Serafina’s. The offer of food always went down well with the English girl. “I shall get my cloak and coin purse. If we stop for a meal, we can always get a sweet gelato. Mama won’t let me have them when I am with her—says it will add too many lumps to my hips.”
“Food, followed by gelato, then a long walk home via the riverside. By the time we make it back here, hopefully my parents will have ended their disagreement.”
Her brother Matteo and his wife lived in a palace along the River Tiber, and if anyone would know who Giovanni Magri was, it would be Martina. She would also have a firm opinion of the man and his suitability as a husband.
Reaching the door, Augusta turned. “Bring some small coins. I think we both might need to toss one or two into the fountain.”
“Not three?”
Augusta had a point. Tradition stated that three would mean falling in love and marrying. Two might be a better idea. At least that promised love.
“Let’s make it two. A wedding is already on the cards for me, so we should save the third coin.”
Their gazes met and they both fell silent. They might be young women, but neither was foolish enough to hope that throwing coins into an elegant fountain could possibly change their lives.
Serafina was merely a pawn in her father’s never-ending game of power.
ChapterThirteen
Later that afternoon
Palazzo Fonsato, Rome
“Giovanni Magri? Your father cannot be serious.”
As Martina de Luca rose from her seat, she shifted the infant which she held, onto her left arm, then lifted her right hand to the heavens. The wife of Serafina’s oldest brother Matteo began to pace back and forth in front of the fireplace. Every so often she would stop, mutter something foul under her breath, then continue with her pacing.
“Are you sure that was the name he gave you?” she asked.
Serafina glanced at Augusta, who was seated stiffly next to her on the sofa. Her friend gave a brief nod.
