Page 50 of The Vagabond Viscount
My brother can sleep all the way home to England. Just as long as Serafina is in his arms when he does.
ChapterTwenty-Seven
Serafina purchased the cream capote bonnet, while Augusta absentmindedly chose a red hat which was the exact same color as the one she had bought only a few weeks ago. Her thoughts were elsewhere. Hat boxes in hand, they left the drapers and headed back down the street toward the tailors.
They had barely put a foot in the front door when Gideon rushed over to greet them. His brows were knitted in confusion, but a mystified grin sat on his face. It was a most peculiar sight. Augusta and Serafina exchanged equally mystified looks.
“Gideon, what’s wrong?” asked Augusta.
Unshed tears shone in his eyes. “You will never guess who I just met. Viscount Cadnam. Flynn is alive and living in Rome.”
Flynn. Flynn is alive. Alive. But . . . but how? That’s impossible!
She heard the words and kept repeating them in her head. They didn’t make any sense. Flynn was dead, so how could he be here in Rome?
Her mind had to be playing tricks. It was either that, or she had truly gone mad. It had been an emotional day. Full of life-changing revelations, which challenged her sanity. But this latest piece of news was too fantastical to accept. A loud ringing in her ears, along with a sudden wave of light-headedness, had Augusta swaying unsteadily on her feet.
It was all too much for her to take. 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, and she collapsed. It was only the quick intervention of Gideon which saved her from crashing to the ground.
Flynn was alive.
ChapterTwenty-Eight
Flynn couldn’t believe his change in luck. He had thought the gods were finally smiling upon him when Michael offered him a place to live. Stumbling across Gideon in the tailor's shop had been beyond his wildest dreams. Finding someone he actually knew had come as such a shock that instead of immediately embracing his best friend, he had made a foolish quip about not having the money to buy new clothes.
Gideon was in Rome.
And so was Augusta.
Augusta is here. And she will now know that I am alive.
He let out a shuddering sigh. Whatever pain she had felt for him over the past year would finally be at an end.
This truly was the city of miracles. The thought that the woman he loved was not only in Italy but staying at Palazzo Lazio, a mere hundred yards or so away from where he lived, had Flynn fighting back tears long before he reached his rooms at All Saints.
A glance at his weathered attire validated his hasty decision not to wait for Augusta to return to the tailor’s shop. Her memories of him would be vastly different to how he appeared now. Everything about him spoke of suffering and hardship.
I couldn’t have her seeing me like this, it would be cruel to both of us.
His anxiety over what Augusta might think when she did see him battled with his desperate need to be reunited with her. To hold her in his arms and tell her that the nightmare was finally over. They were both safe, and despite his wicked endeavors, Earl Bramshaw hadn’t won.
But he couldn’t bring himself to do it. Couldn’t bear to see her reaction to his current tattered state of dress and unkempt appearance. He wanted her love, not her pity. More than once this week he had been mistaken for a beggar in the street and offered alms. Pride had seen him refuse the kindness of strangers.
And yet only a matter of weeks ago you would have gladly accepted the coins.
His life had taken a turn for the better. Good fortune had him wondering if he should pinch himself.
When he reached the end of Via del Corso, Flynn eschewed his normal route home by way of the piazza. Instead, his feet moved in another direction. They had him walking up the wide stone steps of the domed church of Santa Maria di Loreto and in through the front door.
Flynn wasn’t a religious man by nature, but he was possessed with the strong urge to give prayers of gratitude for this recent run of miracles. Someone somewhere was finally watching over him.
After settling into a pew, Flynn dropped to his knees and bowed his head. He closed his eyes as the hope he had thought lost forever filled his heart once more. There was no man in the world more humble than him as he whispered, “Thank you.”
* * *
When Augusta came round, she found a worried-looking Gideon staring down at her. The expression of deep consternation which sat on his face had her clutching at his arm.
“What happened?” she asked, more than a little alarmed.
