Lady Elinor's Wicked Adventures (19 page)

“Goodness, no. Is it supposed to hurt? I thought it was wonderful.”

He cradled her cheek in his hand and gently caressed her. “Wonderful. Just wonderful.”

The trip back to Rome had been quiet. Lady Elinor and Lord Tunbury were too busy gazing at each other to pay much attention to the others, and Lord and Lady Penworth spent much of the time dozing, except when Lord Rycote's fidgeting prompted exasperated mutterings from them. The moment the coach pulled into the courtyard of
the palazzo, Rycote leaped out and vanished through the door leading to the Crescenzis' chambers.

The elderly retainer—Rycote had never figured out just what his title was—backed out of the way, and Donna Lissandra erupted from the sitting room. She halted abruptly when she saw Rycote. Her fierce expression dissolved and she ran to him, stopping just short of throwing herself into his arms.

“It is you,” she said. “Ah, thank heaven it is you.”

More than a little gratified by this reception, Rycote put an arm around her shoulders. “Yes, I am here. Now tell me what is wrong. Has that swine Girard been bothering you?”

“It is not just Girard, swine that he is. Maria is the one who made the trouble. And such trouble! She told him that Pietro was hiding in Rome. My father was furious with her and sent her off to the country, but Girard has been haunting us. Every time my mother and I step outside the house, even to go to church, he is there, following.”

She started to lean against him, gratifying him still further, but then leaped back. “Madonna! Your whole family has returned, no?” At his nod, she turned and ran for the stairs to the
pia
no
nobile
.

Confused, he followed. “Lissandra, wait. Tell me what is wrong.”

She flew up the stairs, ignoring him completely, and burst into the hall, where the English party was standing in some confusion. With her hands at her breast she began, “My lady, my lord, please, I…” Her voice faded away, and she descended into a faint, slowly enough to enable Rycote to catch her.

He lifted her up and looked around wildly.

Lady Penworth looked amused. “Just put her here on the sofa, dear,” she said.

He did so, but promptly knelt beside her, chafing her hands. His mother clasped his shoulder to pull him away.

“Calm yourself, Pip. Now go and find a glass and some brandy.” When he got up to obey, she waved the others back as well. “Let us give the poor girl room to breathe.” Lady Penworth then knelt beside Lissandra herself, taking her hand and speaking softly enough so the others could not hear. “It's all right, my dear. That was a beautiful faint. Just lie there and give my hand a squeeze when you have decided what to say.”

Lissandra's eyes flew open and she gasped.

Lady Penworth shook her head and smiled. “I'm only trying to help.”

The girl burst into tears. “I am so sorry. I had no intention of making trouble for Lord Rycote. Or for any of you. I just did not know what to do.”

Pip hurried in from the library, carrying the brandy decanter and a glass. At the same time, the door on the opposite side of the hall flew open and Pietro Crescenzi entered with a dramatic gesture. Pip frowned at him. “What are you doing here, Pietro?”

“My sister is innocent, and my parents know nothing of this,” he declared.

“That is no doubt perfectly true,” said Lord Penworth with a wry smile. “I am coming to learn that parents frequently know nothing of what their children are doing.”

“I think, dear, that this must be Lissandra's brother. The revolutionary one.” Lady Penworth came to stand beside her husband and tilted her head to look at the newcomer. “There does seem to be a resemblance.”

“Hmm? Yes, I suppose so.” Penworth frowned at the young man. “But aren't you supposed to wear a red shirt or some such?”

“He's been in Rome in hiding, Father.” Pip glowered at Pietro. “But I thought he had promised to behave like a gentleman and not involve his sister in his activities.”

“Ah, no, it is not his doing.” Lissandra appeared to have quite recovered, and clasped Lady Penworth's hand between hers. “It is I who insisted that he hide here. My father would be distraught if he knew. Please do not tell my parents. I will find another place for him immediately.”

Penworth was still frowning at Pietro, who was swaying slightly. “I do not wish to be rude, young man, but is that blood on your shirt? And if so, is it yours?”

“It almost certainly is, I think, judging from his pallor,” said Lady Penworth. “Perhaps we should all sit down, and somewhere less open. Lissandra, help your brother into the library.”

They went in procession, Lord and Lady Penworth leading the way, Lissandra helping her brother, and Pip helping her. Harry and Elinor, who had been paying virtually no attention to the drama being enacted, trailed behind, walking just close enough for their arms to brush.

“Is there something between your brother and the Crescenzis' daughter?” Harry asked softly.

“Oh yes, hadn't you realized?”

He smiled. “All my attention has been on you. I have very little left for him.”

Elinor grinned. “I think she's good for him. He was getting much too stuffy.”

“However he managed that in your family, I can't imagine.” Harry grinned back, so Elinor jabbed an elbow into him.

Once everyone was settled in the library, where the dark paneling had a soothing effect, Lissandra attempted to fuss over her brother. He, however, was determined to speak.

“My lord, my lady, I beg your forgiveness. It was an emergency.” He shook off his sister. “I should never have imposed upon you this way.”

“It was that spiteful old witch Maria,” burst out Lissandra. She turned to Pip, who took her hand. “After you were so good as to warn me, I was very careful. Never once did I allow Girard to follow me. But I never thought to watch for Maria. I knew she was angry, but it was inconceivable to me to think she would ever betray our family.”

“What did she do?” Elinor asked, fascinated.

“Followed Lissandra and then led the French to the house where I was staying,” said Pietro bitterly. “My comrades and I fought them off, but Giovanni was killed. It was his house, and I do not know what will become of his family.”

“Pity you didn't think about that earlier,” Pip snapped. “It's all very well and good to go about risking your own life if that's what you choose to do, but you should not endanger innocents like his family and your own.”

Lissandra frowned at him and tried to pull her hand loose. He wouldn't let go, so she left it while she turned to the others. “Our father was very angry. He dismissed Maria from his service and sent her back to the village she came from—ah, you should have heard him. ‘Viper' was the kindest term he used. But he was even more angry with Pietro. He said he was a disgrace to the family and he disowned him.” Tears of pity filled her eyes as she looked at her brother.

Pietro looked tragic himself. “Why can he not see that this is the future? Only once Italy is free and united will she be strong. Can he not see that the real disgrace is allowing France and Austria to tyrannize us? Too long have we been denied our liberty.”

While he continued for some time in this vein, Lady Penworth whispered to her husband, “I believe they must have learned their English by reading Byron.”

He smiled in agreement. “That fellow has a lot to answer for.”

Finally, a cough from Lord Penworth drew the young people's attention. “Yes, well, I think we had best leave the politics for a different time. I was hoping, Miss Crescenzi, that you might explain what your brother is doing here in our apartments.”

“And, while you are at it, explain what has happened to the servants,” added Lady Penworth. “I must confess that I had been looking forward to a cup of tea and a hot bath when we arrived.” Her arched brows indicated less than total sympathy with the Crescenzi children.

Completely ignoring his earlier criticism of Pietro, Pip leaped to Lissandra's defense, putting himself between her and his parents while still holding her hand. “I am certain Donna Lissandra would not have imposed on our hospitality except in the direst of circumstances.”

“No doubt. However, since you have not been here and she has, I suspect she can provide an explanation more easily than you can.” Lady Penworth was having difficulty suppressing a smile at her son's unusually dramatic behavior.

“A hundred thousand apologies, most gracious lady.” Lissandra clasped her free hand to her breast. “But my brother was wounded and could not travel. I could not think of any other place where Girard would not search for him. But here, in the chambers of a noble English family—Girard would not dare force an entrance.”

“Not bad thinking,” Harry said with a judicious nod.

“I will remove him at once,” she said. “We can surely find another place.”

“Nonsense, Donna Lissandra,” said Pip. “Our family will be glad to shelter him until his safe escape can be arranged.”

Lady Penworth raised her brows and was about to speak, but her husband put a hand on her arm and she contented herself with a second inquiry as to the whereabouts of the servants. It appeared that they had all been given leave to visit their families for a few days, lest news of Pietro's presence leak out.

“Pity,” said Lady Penworth. “Because I really would like a hot bath.”

At that, Lissandra burst into tears.

Pip pulled her into his arms and glared at his mother, who simply raised her brows again.

Lord Penworth muttered, “Stop teasing them,” to his wife.

Pietro leaped to his feet and declaimed his intention to depart that instant, Lissandra wailed, and Pip assured her that everything would be taken care of, all at increasing volume.

“It's as good as a play,” said Elinor to Harry.

“Yes,” he agreed, “but I think we'd better take a hand and straighten things out before your mother enjoys this too much.” He stepped into the middle of the chaos, grabbed Pietro by the shoulder to swing him around, and clapped his hands loudly an inch from Pietro's nose. That halted Pietro in mid-oration.

Elinor, meanwhile, picked up a vase of somewhat wilted flowers, pushed it under Lissandra's nose, and then raised it as if to dump it on her head. Lissandra's wailing ended on a gasp.

Elinor and Harry exchanged congratulatory smiles.

“Oh, well done, children. I am pleased to see you working so well together.” Lady Penworth beamed at them.

Lord Penworth gave a harrumph worthy of a much older man. “Suppose you tell us just precisely what is going on here. Signor Crescenzi, I gather you are persona non grata in Rome. Might I ask precisely who is objecting to your presence?”

“My lord, I was requested to return here by…”

“No, no, no.” Lord Penworth shook his head decisively. “I absolutely do not want to know what you are doing here. As far as I am concerned, you came to visit your family, and that is all. What I do wish to know is, who is hunting you?”

“Ah,” said Pietro, smiling as the light dawned. “As an English lord, you would have, of course, no interest in our Italian politics and could not be seen to do anything that might suggest that your government took any interest in the matter.”

“Good to see that he isn't a complete fool,” Harry muttered to Elinor.

Penworth nodded, so Pietro continued. “That Girard is the one who seeks me. It is not that I am of any great importance, you see, but he has tried to force his attentions on my sister, who naturally scorns the pig. I fear he wishes to have me in his hands, thinking that then he can bring pressure on her.”

“The devil you say!” Pip looked horrified.

Even Lady Penworth looked taken aback. “Why, the utter cad,” she said.

“That settles it,” Pip said. “Father, we cannot stand by and permit such an outrage.”

“No, of course not,” said Lord Penworth quietly. “The first thing we must determine is how badly injured this young man is.”

Pietro waved dismissively. “Truly it is not serious.”

“Ah, my lord,” broke in Lissandra, “the blood—you would not believe the blood.”

“
Basta
, Lissandra.” Her brother hushed her. “Enough. It was nothing more than a graze.”

Penworth nodded. “I trust you will not consider me overly intrusive if I ask to examine the wound? I do have some experience with injuries.”

With his wife hovering over his shoulder, the marquess expertly removed the bandage to examine the wound in Pietro's side. It was indeed little more than a graze, though deep enough to have bled profusely. Penworth nodded in satisfaction and Pietro maintained a stoic air.

“And when did this occur?” Lady Penworth sounded mildly curious.

“Yesterday it was.” Lissandra waved her arms dramatically. “When Eduardo brought him here… Pietro had gone to Del Falcone, but that is the first place Girard would look so Eduardo brought him here. I very nearly swooned at the sight—so pale he was. And then my father began shouting and threatened to disown him, so I whispered to Eduardo to take him up here to your apartments. I know it was wrong of me but I could not think what else to do.”

Pip took her outstretched hand and patted it reassuringly. “Not wrong at all. That was very clever of you indeed.”

Lady Penworth glanced at her son in amusement before returning her attention to Pietro's injury. “Well, there seems to be no sign of infection, and the wound appears to have been properly cleaned. There has been no fever?” When Pietro shook his head, she continued, “In a week or two, you should be as good as new.”

“Yes,” Penworth agreed. “I do not see any need for a physician at present, so there should be no problem with your remaining here until you can leave Rome to rejoin your friends.”

The Crescenzi siblings immediately burst into prolonged and flowery protestations of gratitude, which Lady Penworth brought to a close with a gesture demanding silence. “I do hope, however, that you have some notion as to how we can manage for servants. I am still, as I mentioned earlier, longing for a hot bath and a meal.”