Миранда Джеймс - Bless Her Dead Little Heart

Dickce thought Rosabelle looked peevish, and she wondered how much Antonio had told her in advance about the unexpected addition to their dinner party. Luca rose as his employer and Rosabelle neared the table.

Dickce watched Rosabelle’s face as she beheld Luca for the first time.

Rosabelle’s eyes widened, and then she smiled. Dickce had to stifle a giggle. Rosabelle couldn’t resist the allure of an attractive man, and Dickce knew Rosabelle was getting ready to be at her charming best with Luca. Is she in for a surprise , Dickce thought.

Antonio glowered at Luca as he spoke. “Rosabella, dearest, allow me to introduce to you my valletto , Luca Cavalcante. Luca, my wife, the Contessa di San Lorenzo.”

Rosabelle held out her hand, and Luca bent over it, his face impassive. “ Piacere, Signora la Contessa .”

“ Piacere , Luca. I’m delighted to meet you. Antonio, the naughty man, has told me so little about you.” Rosabelle fluttered her eyelashes at Luca, who merely nodded. Rosabelle frowned, obviously disconcerted at the lack of further response.

“Please help yourselves, everyone,” An’gel said. “There is red wine for those who would like it; otherwise there is iced tea and water.”

There was no conversation as the guests lined up to fill their plates at the sideboard. Wade went first. His consumption of whiskey earlier in the day didn’t seem to have affected his appetite, Dickce mused as he piled his plate high with roast and mashed potatoes. Within a few minutes everyone was seated again at the table, and Wade grabbed a bottle and filled his glass. More bottles were passed up and down the table, and Dickce noted that everyone except Benjy and An’gel partook of the wine. She would probably need to fetch another bottle or two. She didn’t think Wade would be content with a single glass nor, she suspected, would Antonio.

The latter focused on his food, with frequent sips of wine. Probably trying his best to ignore Luca’s presence, Dickce figured.

Rosabelle, however, picked at her food while casting furtive glances at the manservant. Trying to figure him out , Dickce thought with amusement. She’s not used to men who aren’t immediately dazzled by her .

“Luca, my husband has told me so little about you,” Rosabelle said. “How long have you worked for him?”

Luca, wineglass to his lips, drained the contents and set the glass down before he replied. “Three years we have been together, but I remain in Italy when he comes to the United States.” He scowled as he picked up the nearest bottle and emptied it into his glass.

Rosabelle smiled. “Then you have worked for him a year longer than I’ve been married to him.”

“ Si, è vero .” Luca lifted his wine and drank half the glass.

Rosabelle’s eyes narrowed. “Sorry, I don’t speak Italian. What does that mean?”

Luca curled his lip. “It means, yes, it is true.” His tone sounded insolent to Dickce, and she could see that Rosabelle was bothered by it.

“There’s no need to be rude, young man, because I don’t speak your language.” Rosabelle poked her fork hard into a piece of roast and stuck it in her mouth.

Luca shrugged, and Dickce thought the gesture even more insolent than his tone. This is getting good . How much more would it take before the fireworks started?

Antonio spoke rapidly in Italian, and Dickce found it almost impossible to follow. He was chastising Luca for his behavior, she knew that.

Luca muttered under his breath for a moment, then spoke clearly. “ Sì, Signor il Conte .” He inclined his head toward Antonio.

Rosabelle turned to her husband. “Does he behave like this frequently? I would not put up with this from any servant of mine, not for a minute.”

“It is no matter, my dear,” Antonio said in a soothing tone. “We Italians are a passionate race, and sometimes we sound angry or insolent to others when we are simply talking in a normal fashion. Do not be upset.”

Rosabelle didn’t look convinced, and Dickce could sense the tension building in Luca. He fired off a comment in Italian, and Dickce had to stifle a gasp of surprise. She understood just enough of it to know that the young man had basically asked Antonio if he made love to his wife as often as he made love to Luca.

She stole a glance at An’gel. From what she could tell, her sister hadn’t understood any of it, which was just as well. She would have had a fit on the spot.

Antonio’s face turned purple with rage. Rosabelle stared back and forth at him and Luca, aware that something had gone wrong but not sure what. Antonio stood suddenly, pushing his chair back with a jerk. He threw his napkin down on the table and started yelling at Luca.

Luca rose from his place and yelled back.

An’gel got to her feet. “Stop this at once,” she roared.

Antonio stopped in mid-yell and stared at her, as did Luca.

“This is ridiculous,” An’gel said in a more normal tone. “I will not have this outrageous behavior at my dinner table.”

“I am appalled, Antonio, that you would behave like this with your servant in front of everyone.” Rosabelle shook her head. “You are a gentleman, a nobleman, and this is surely beneath you.”

Wade laughed, surprising them all. “Mother, how stupid can you be?” He laughed again. “Don’t you get it? Haven’t you ever heard a lovers’ quarrel before?”

CHAPTER 36

An’gel could happily have wrung her sister’s neck at that moment. Dickce had deliberately stirred this up, and it was even worse than An’gel feared. Rosabelle might have a stroke at any second if any of this were true.

“Wade, that’s utterly ridiculous. You’re simply trying to drive Antonio and me apart with this nonsense.” Rosabelle directed a furious glare at her son, but he laughed at her.

“Oh, I think Luca over there has already done that.” Wade lifted his glass and toasted the young man.

Luca grinned. “Grazie.” He mimed a kiss at Antonio.

Rosabelle shrieked at the sight of that gesture, “Is it true, then? He really is your lover?” She clutched at her heart with both hands. “Antonio, you’re having an affair with another man?”

Antonio reached for Rosabelle, but she batted his hands away. “Don’t you dare touch me.”

“Rosabella, cara, it is not how you think,” Antonio said.

An’gel heard the desperation in his voice, but she wondered why he would want to placate Rosabelle at this point. She didn’t believe Rosabelle could ever forgive him for betraying her with a man. A woman she might have forgiven, thinking she could easily win him back. But not with Luca standing there and smirking.

“It is exactly how I think.” Rosabelle picked up her wineglass and threw the contents in her husband’s face. There was only a dribble, and Antonio wiped it away with one hand.

Rosabelle’s chest heaved. “I only wish that was acid instead.”

“Miss Ducote, what’s going on here? Do you need assistance?”

An’gel, startled, looked up to see one of the deputies in the doorway. She walked over to him while Rosabelle continued to scream at Antonio.

“A domestic quarrel,” she told the deputy. “I doubt it will get much worse than this, but please stay here in case.”

“Yes, ma’am,” the deputy said. He moved to stand near the head of the table, where no one could fail to see him.

Rosabelle paused mid-tirade and crooked her finger at the deputy. “Officer, I want you to escort this man out of the house immediately. I never want to see his face again.”

“Perhaps that would be best,” Antonio said as he backed away. He turned to An’gel. “My sincere apologies for this most unfortunate incident. It is a poor way to repay you for your generous hospitality.”