Page 69 of The Vagabond Viscount
“The de Lucas don’t know your mother is staying on in Rome?”
She found herself resenting the judgment which laced Flynn’s question. While he had no right, especially when his father was an unashamed villain who had tried to murder him, she could well understand his confusion. The duchess was keeping her future plans to herself.
I can’t imagine the horrible rumors I am going to have to deal with when I get home.
The matrons of thetonwere going to be beside themselves with vicious glee when news of the Duchess and Duke of Mowbray formally separating became widely known. She would be married and settled with Flynn, but her sisters Victoria and Coco were still on the marriage market. The scandal would impact their chances of making solid matches. Of finding love.
Flynn brushed a hand down her back then released her. As their gazes met, he slowly shook his head. “I am sorry. I didn’t mean for it to sound the way it did. I meant it more of a question as to whether the duchess has perhaps had second thoughts. She might now that Gideon and Serafina are married.”
Augusta had a horrid suspicion that her mother had stubbornly painted herself into a corner, and it was her pride which was the main thing keeping her here. Not that Lady Anne would ever admit to such a thing.
“No, Mama is keeping her own counsel. Which is why I think she won’t move back into Palazzo Lazio even if invited by the de Lucas. I think Gideon and Serafina might, just to help smooth things over. Mama will likely stay at the hotel until she decides on permanent lodgings.”
It was hard to speak of her mother carving out a life away from the rest of the Kembal family, but Augusta was slowly coming to terms with this change in her life.
Flynn bent and spoke softly so only Augusta could hear. “G, can we go back to the hotel soon? There is something important I wish to discuss with you. Actually, it’s a few things, but we cannot talk here.”
She hesitated. It would appear odd if she and Flynn left the gathering. The event itself had transformed from what was meant to be a bloody duel to that of an open exchange of diplomacy. And now wedding congratulations.
Flynn turned and nodded toward the priest, Father Morris, who had accompanied the party this morning. He had confirmed that he had indeed married the Marquis of Holwell and Signorina Serafina de Luca the previous evening. At Flynn’s signal, Father Morris made his excuses and hurried over.
“Father Morris, I am going to take Lady Augusta back to the Albergo del Sole. I was wondering if you would like to accompany us. I am sure your family will be waiting for you at the hotel.”
A soft smile appeared on the priest’s face. “Thank you. I was wondering how I was going to find my way. Everyone here seems busy with making amends, and I thought it might be rude to ask. Thank heavens it all appears to have worked out for the best. I must confess I was worried there for a moment.”
So was I, but sanity has prevailed.
They slipped quietly out of the reception room and made their way to the front door of the palace. Considering how unceremoniously she had been forced to leave only a day earlier, Augusta wasn’t certain about the protocols of farewell, so she didn’t bother to say goodbye. Truth be told, she was still angry over the way she and her family had been treated. Enzo had thrown them out into the street like unwelcome beggars.
And now he is family. But at least he won’t be in London any time soon.
Once they were outside in Via della Pilotta, Flynn took Augusta by the hand. “Let’s walk. It’s only a short way. I feel the need to stretch my legs.” He turned to Father Morris. “You don’t mind walking do you, Father? We can give you the guided tour of this area on our way back if you like.”
* * *
At the hotel, Augusta headed toward the stairs. She stopped when Flynn didn’t make a move in the same direction, rather he remained with Father Morris in the foyer. “Aren’t you coming with me?” she asked.
“In a moment. I need to speak to Father Morris. I promise I won’t be long. Then you and I can talk.”
Augusta’s gaze went from Flynn to the priest. Her brows knitted together, and he could just imagine what she was thinking. What possible reason would Flynn have for talking to Father Morris? Gideon and Serafina were married, and there was nothing left for him to do.
He watched her go, then turned to Father Morris. “You have done the Marquis of Holwell a great service this day. I was wondering if I could call upon you to do the same for me.”
ChapterForty-One
Augusta threw herself onto the bed. Arms stretched out on the coverlet, she sighed up at the ceiling with unrestrained relief. “Thank you, Lord.”
The past day had been trying to say the least. The butterflies in her stomach were still bouncing around. She hadn’t bothered with food, afraid that she wouldn’t be able to keep it down. Throwing up all over the polished marble of Palazzo Lazio would have been the final humiliation.
She glanced at the door, silently wishing that Flynn would hurry up. A laugh escaped her lips as a knock came at that very moment, and the door opened.
“I was just hoping you would appear, and here you are,” she said, rising to sit up.
He stopped mid-stride, and his head dropped. “I lost count of the nights I lay and wished to have you beside me. And I expect you did the same. It’s still a little strange to think that we can now do that, and our wishes will be heard.”
Her gaze never left his as Augusta crossed the floor and came to Flynn. There were moments when she feared that if she dared look away, he might suddenly disappear.
Flynn wrapped his arms around her, whispering, “I love you, G. Life without you has been near impossible. You are the only thing which kept me sane through the darkest of days.”
