Page 58 of Tempted By the English Marquis
Gideon barely had his arms inside the sleeves of his jacket before his friend was making a hasty beeline for the front door. Once outside in the street, Flynn headed away from the shop at a fast trot.
“I thought my life was full of drama. At least no one thinks I am dead,” Gideon muttered.
And Augusta. What will she say when I tell her?
Gideon was still mulling over the surprise rebirth of Viscount Flynn Cadnam when Serafina and Augusta stepped inside the shop barely a minute later. They were both carrying elegantly tied boxes in their arms. The heavily armed bodyguards remained outside in the street once more.
A mystified Gideon met the women at the front door. “You will never guess who I just met. Viscount Cadnam. Flynn is alive, and living in Rome,” he said.
Augusta let out a strangled cry of distress, and her eyes rolled back in her head. Her packages tumbled to the floor. Her knees buckled from under her. Gideon darted forward, catching his sister in his arms as she fainted dead away.
ChapterThirty-One
The Duchess of Mowbray took over the care of her daughter as soon as they returned to Palazzo Lazio. Fortunately, the gentlemen’s tailor let them have the use of his private carriage, so they were able to get Augusta home from Via del Corso without too much trouble.
When Gideon pressed his sister as to her reaction to the news of Viscount Cadnam being alive and in Rome, Augusta refused to give him anything more than a mere “I was simply taken by surprise. I am glad your friend is still among the living.”
Serafina kept her lips firmly shut. She was determined to keep her friend’s confidence, even if it meant lying to Augusta’s mother and brother.
Within a matter of hours of their return to the ducal palace Serafina had more than her own fair share of troubles to contend with, the worst being the summons she received commanding her to attend her father’s private offices.
With her hands clenched nervously at her sides, Serafina slowly made her way to Enzo’s door. She knocked then waited, taking the time to practice her apology. Of course, the guards had reported her to her father. Informed him of her behavior with the English lord. What Enzo de Luca would have to say about Lady Augusta fainting in a tailor’s shop she didn’t wish to consider.
The door opened and revealed Donna Francesca on the other side. Serafina’s heart sank. Both parents were here. That was never a good sign.
“Come in. Your father and I have matters to discuss with you.”
Enzo rose from his desk as Serafina walked into the room. Arms held out wide, and with a broad smile on his face, he came to greet her. “Welcome. And may I be the first to offer you my congratulations on the impending formal announcement of your betrothal.”
Bloody. Bloody. Bloody hell.
Her stay in England had taught Serafina some choice English words. She kept them to herself, fearing what might happen if she had to explain them to other people within the palace. Bloody was her particular favorite; it suited many an occasion.
Especially this one.
The deed was done. Her fate was sealed. The negotiations with Giovanni Magri had obviously come to a satisfactory conclusion. Serafina knew enough from the experiences of her older sisters that once the terms of the marriage contracts had been agreed, Enzo would move forward with all due haste and have the betrothal made official.
It wouldn’t be long before she was Donna Serafina Magri. Just the thought of it made her ill.
She met her father’s gaze. The warmth of his smile didn’t carry all the way to his eyes. Then again, it never had. Enzo de Luca was a man who seemed to view his family as a means to an end. His children were there to further his ambitions for power.
“Serafina? You should be pleased at this, at how your impending marriage will benefit your family,” he added.
It will benefit you. I can’t see how any of this is good for me.
Her mother touched a hand to Serafina’s shoulder. “Of course, things are not completely set in marble. Not until after the betrothal ceremony next week.”
Enzo glared at his wife, then returned his gaze to Serafina. “Your future is set. The contracts are ready to be signed. Remember, once you have that betrothal ring on your finger and Signore Magri offers you a kiss, you are as good as his wife.”
“I expect there are other young women in Rome who would be happy with such a smart match. You should be grateful that your father has the connections to have secured you such a fine husband,” Donna Francesca said, but there was a tang of bitterness in her voice.
Her mother didn’t support the match; she was simply going along with it because she had no other choice. Enzo had made up his mind, and his wife would fall into line and do as her position demanded.
Enzo stepped away, the smile disappearing from his face as he moved to his usual spot behind his desk. Had he expected Serafina to be happy? Grateful for what he had done? A small sigh escaped her lips at the thought that he might genuinely believe she would think marriage to an old man was something she would find desirable.
As he dropped into his seat, Serafina settled her gaze on her father’s chair. It had been designed with an elegant high back which flowed down to golden carved arms. There were imposing lion’s heads at the front of the upright supports.
Enzo reclined, a look of self-pleased satisfaction on his countenance. He looked for all the world like a king. It struck Serafina that that was exactly how her father viewed himself. As a ruler. He might be the second son of the de Luca family—his older brother, the duke—but in his mind, he reigned supreme.
