“I was too busy slicing up my leg.”
“I am still frightened,” she said.
“I shouldn’t give you more brandy. I can’t have you reeling about tomorrow with a hangover.”
“Please hold me, Pietro.”
He knew that he shouldn’t. Even after the terror of the evening, he felt desire for her. He looked away from her. “You were very brave tonight.”
“Pietro—”
God how he hated that name. “No, Rayna,” he said firmly, leaping to his feet and putting the distance of the small parlor between them. “And stop looking at me that way. I am not made of stone.”
“Very well,” she said, then, “I believe I am sleepy.”
“Good,” Adam said. “I will bring you a blanket.”
“Yes,” she said, “that would be nice.”
When he returned from his bedchamber with a blanket in his arms, Rayna was staring into the fireplace, a thoughtful frown drawing her brows together. She turned to look at him. “I don’t feel like a virgin anymore,” she said. “Your blood is on my thighs.”
“Would you like to bathe before you sleep?” he said as he unfolded the blanket.
“No.” She shuddered suddenly. “They were all staring at me. I wanted to die.”
“When you see them again, as you will, at court functions, you must pretend complete indifference. I do not believe you have any more to fear from any of them, but promise me you will never be alone.”
“I promise,” she said as she lay on the settee.
Adam tucked the blanket about her legs. “The comte was right about one thing, petite. You do have spirit. Will you gullet me if I ever wander?”
“Yes,” she said.
“You are a lot like my mother,” Adam said. Before she could question him, he added, “Sleep now. I will wake you when it is time to leave.”
Chapter 13
Arabella felt anger so great, she shook with it. And contempt. Contempt at herself. During the weeks in Naples, she had enjoyed herself thoroughly, dancing with gallant Italian noblemen, attending every royal function available, and fancying that she was the one who was engineering the growing feeling between Adam and Rayna. In reality, she had paid mere lip service to the reason why Adam was here, treating the mystery as if it were some sort of harmless puzzle to be solved. But no longer.
She shivered, thinking of what had happened to Rayna. And the contessa. She, fool that she was, had acted like an innocent lamb in the presence of that lady. Aware that Adam had turned back to her, she quickly unclenched her fists and smoothed out her frown. She managed to say calmly enough, “I did wonder why she asked me so many questions. Lord, Adam, if the Contessa Luciana di Rolando is the one behind all this, there has to be a reason.”
“Bella, you have the same questions as I,” Adam said. He looked about the park for a moment, watching the morning sunlight stream through the thick blanket of foliage over their heads. “I haven’t the foggiest notion what her motives might be. I am simply telling you what several of the comte’s friends let slip to me last night. We cannot even be certain that it is she. I am sending Antonio with a letter to Father today, telling him all that has happened. He may know who this contessa is. I expect he will be in Naples with a dozen men within a week.”
“Then it will all be over. I still can’t believe the effrontery of the comte. What a terrible ordeal for Rayna. You may be certain, Adam, that I shall take good care of her now.”
“She was very brave, Bella, but I am concerned that her memories of what happened may affect her. I would appreciate your keeping a watch on her.”
“You may be certain that I shall.” Arabella said. “Will you marry her, Adam?”
“Yes, Miss Matchmaker, I shall.”
If he had given her such credit but the day before, she would have teased him unmercifully. But not today. “That still leaves the contessa,” Arabella said after a moment. “She has invited me to lunch with her at her villa.”
“You will not go.”
“Good heavens, Adam, we obviously need more information. You cannot go to her villa, but I, an invited guest, certainly can.”
“No,” he said, more forcefully this time. “And that’s an end to it, Bella. We will wait word from Father.”