“Do you plan to go to court?” Celestino asked, depositing his bulky frame in a wing chair opposite the marchese.
The marchese looked bored. “What else is there to do in Naples?”
“There are many beautiful women at the court,” Celestino said.
“Ah, that is something, I suppose. Can one be assured they will not give a man the pox?”
The comte, who had been standing negligently against the mantelpiece, straightened and smiled. “They give their favors freely. I have heard it said that when the queen was younger she kept as many as three lovers at the same time. Of course she is a raddled hag now.”
“I think,” Celestino said with a sharp glance toward the comte, “that a man is only safe taking virgins.”
“Ah,” the marchese sighed. “If I were to pay a gold piece for every virgin I could find, I would still be a rich man at the end of a week.”
Celestino chortled and opened his mouth to speak, but swallowed his words at a frown from Gervaise.
“You are doubtless right in part, mon ami,” the comte said. He gazed down into the amber liquid in his goblet and said slowly, “I would suggest, marchese, that you do not speak so openly of your French leanings in the court. The queen has more secret police than most imagine. More than one innocent man has been butchered because of her hatred and fear of Napoleon. Your exalted rank and your wealth would not save you, I fear.” He paused for a long moment, and added, “Why, even Celestino and I could be in the pay of her majesty. Yes, you must be more careful.”
The marchese stretched his long legs out before him. His dark blue eyes were hooded, almost as if he were nodding off to sleep. “I thank you for your . . . advice, comte,” he said, not looking up. “I trust whatever my father did, he did not raise a fool.”
“Do you play cards?” Celestino said, leaning forward in his chair.
“What gentleman does not?” the marchese said.
“The night is still young,” the comte said. “Name your game, marchese, and Tino and I will contrive to amuse you.”
Adam did not awaken until noon. When he left his room, Daniele Barbaro was awaiting him in the drawing room.
“Well?” he asked without preamble.
Adam yawned. “You and the men did excellently, Daniele. I did not stagger home until dawn. I allowed the Comte de la Valle to relieve me of a bit of gold,” he added.
Adam’s valet, Borkin, entered the drawing room bearing two cups of steaming coffee and a tray of rolls.
“Will you join me, Daniele?”
At the older man’s nod, Adam seated himself in front of a small circular table and began to eat. He said nothing further until Borkin had bowed himself out of the room and pulled the door closed.
“It is not that I doubt him in any way,” Adam said, more to himself than to Daniele. “I don’t want him to know anything that could place him in danger. I trust none of your men were harmed last night?”
“Nay, your feint with your sword was impressive, no damage done to Vincenzo. Did you learn anything?”
Adam stretched, took another bite of a flaky roll, and sat back in his chair. “Not much, but then again, I didn’t expect to. But I expect that the comte’s friend Celestino Genovesi will sooner or later divulge the game. I accompany them to court tonight. There is a ball, or some such thing. The comte will present me to the queen. The king, I hear, is at his palace at Caserta, hunting and whoring.”
Daniele grunted. “Have you heard from the earl?”
“Aye, yesterday.” He raised a mocking black brow. “My damned sister will be arriving shortly with the Lyndhursts.”
“A rare handful is Lady Arabella,” Daniele said, grinning shamelessly at his master.
“I look forward to seeing the minx. But I cannot like the fact that Rayna Lyndhurst is coming with her parents. The chit’s only eighteen, and from what Bella tells me, she’s so innocent she blushes when a rose opens.”
“She shouldn’t recognize you. With that beard, you don’t look the English gentleman—more a damned pirate.”
“Exactly what Celestino observed last night.” Adam chuckled. “Father wrote that Viscount Delford was appalled that he was allowing Arabella to come here because it was her wish to do so. Claimed he wouldn’t allow his daughter to gainsay his wishes, to which my father replied in that satirical way of his, ‘But, my dear sir, I want my daughter’s character to be as strong as her mother’s.’ ”
“Ah,” Daniele said comfortably, “there is that. You needn’t worry about Lady Arabella, my lord. She’s safe with the Lyndhursts. The only danger she’ll know is keeping the young noblemen at court at arm’s length. No different from London.” As he stood, he added, “What harm can a girl come to attending par-ties?”
“You, Daniele, don’t know my sister.”