Stephanie Howard - The Colorado Countess

‘Yes, it is urgent, Pierre.’ Leone laid down his coffee-cup and there was a distinctly determined look in his eyes. ‘This young lady and I have unfinished business.’

CHAPTER TWO

THE house Carrie had rented for her stay in San Rinaldo was about five miles out of Rino, the capital of the little dukedom, up a sun-dappled, twisting, tree-lined road with a spectacular view out over the city.

To be more accurate, she’d rented only part of the house—a marvellous red-tiled eighteenth-century villa. She’d taken the top floor, which was bright and spacious, with its own front door and huge balconies at the front and back. And she was out on the front balcony now, basking in the July sunshine, with a bowl of peaches at her elbow and a notepad on her knee as she sat in one of the comfy cane chairs and worked out her itinerary for the coming week. And it promised to be a busy one, with lots of meetings and appointments. To her enormous satisfaction, though she’d been here less than a week, work was already getting under way.

But that was Carrie’s way. When it came to matters of work, she liked to dive straight in and get on with the job. And that was why, in the space of just three years, she’d gained a reputation for being a top-rank professional.

It was hard to believe, but it really was just three years ago that she had arrived in New York fresh from college with no experience at all of the publishing world, just a lot of ambition and a fistful of good ideas. Plus an infinite supply of determination, of course. For she’d quickly lost count of the publishing-house doors she’d had to knock on before one finally took her on to do a book on Colorado gold—for her native state was once prospector country—and since the success of that book her career had never looked back.

There had followed a book on Amerindian art, then one on New York’s Guggenheim Museum, as well as the steady stream of magazine articles she wrote. But this latest project, the book on Castello porcelain that she had come to San Rinaldo to work on, promised to be the most ambitious so far. This one was going to be really special.

She sat back in her chair now with a smile on her face and gazed for a moment at the peaceful panorama of cypress-clad hills and green-shuttered villas. What a wonderful place. She was going to adore the next three months here. With a sigh of contentment, she reached for a peach.

At that moment there was the sound of a car down below, turning into the gravel driveway of the villa. Carrie munched on her peach, which was sweet and delicious, and turned her attention back to her scribblings. It must be someone for her landlady, a widow who lived below. Signora Rossi frequently had visitors.

She heard a car door slam, then male footsteps crossing the driveway, past the stone steps that led to her balcony. Though she was barely paying attention. She was carefully studying her itinerary, wondering if she hadn’t maybe over-committed herself tomorrow. And she didn’t bother to glance up when, a moment or two later, there was the sound of voices down below her balcony—Signora Rossi and her visitor talking in Italian. So she was totally taken by surprise when suddenly her landlady called out, ‘Signorina Carrie! There’s someone to see you!’

How odd. Frowning a little, Carrie laid down her notepad, got to her feet and stepped to the edge of the balcony. Who on earth could it possibly be? She didn’t know anyone who was likely to come visiting.

She leaned over the balcony. ‘Thank you, Signora Rossi.’

But then she paused. Where was her visitor? And what manner of lightning bolt had apparently struck her landlady? For the poor woman’s eyes were fixed, saucer-sized in their amazement, on the narrow stone stairway that led to Carrie’s veranda.

Curious, Carrie turned to follow the stupefied gaze. Then she blinked, her own eyes transforming into saucers of amazement. For ascending the stone stairway was no less a personage than Count Leone Alberto Cosimo George di Montecrespi, the heir to the throne of San Rinaldo, whom she had so grievously insulted just two days ago.

She felt herself turn pale. Oh, dear heavens! she was thinking. He’s come personally to throw me out of the country!

He had reached the top of the stairs, where he paused now to address her. ‘Miss Carrie Dunn from Colorado, we meet again,’ he smiled. Then he paused and regarded her pale, fixed face. ‘I hope I haven’t caught you at an inconvenient moment?’

‘Not at all. Of course not.’

Carrie hadn’t a clue what to say or do. So she just stood there, utterly immobile, feeling totally foolish in her skimpy pink shorts and strappy T-shirt, wishing that, at least, she were more soberly dressed. Though he was pretty informally attired too, in a pair of cream cotton trousers, an open-neck blue shirt and light canvas shoes. Nevertheless, he was still a count, the brother of the ruler of San Rinaldo and a member of one of the oldest noble families in Europe. Her brain was churning in confusion. Ought she to curtsy to him, or what?

Leone, for his part, was feeling a touch bemused too. She was even lovelier than he had remembered. Slender and graceful, with a natural, unadorned beauty, and a perfectly spectacular pair of legs. He looked into her face with its wide hazel eyes, gentle mouth and tip-tilted nose and was suddenly struck by the strong resemblance she bore to one of the angels in the painted frieze of the family chapel.

That surprising thought made him smile. That angel had always been his favourite.

But his task at the moment was to put this poor angel at her ease. She was standing there, quite rigid, clutching a half-eaten peach and looking as though she believed he was about to devour her.

He glanced around him. ‘What a lovely place. That’s a pretty spectacular view you’ve got.’

‘Yes, it is pretty spectacular.’

Carrie managed to answer him, though her voice sounded strange, as though it belonged to someone else. What was he doing here? she kept asking herself frantically, over and over. It was bizarre. She couldn’t begin to imagine what he might want of her. Though one part of her, in spite of her quite genuine anxiety, felt like laughing out loud at the situation. If only her family, or friend Louise, could see her now, standing here hobnobbing with the heir to the San Rinaldo throne!

Well, not exactly hobnobbing! That thought brought her up sharply. If her family could see her now, they’d think she was a proper wimp! She straightened her spine carefully and lifted up her chin and, suddenly realising she was still clutching her half-eaten peach, laid it carefully on the little table behind her. Then, taking a deep breath and feeling much more in control now, she forced herself to look her visitor straight in the eye.

‘Forgive me,’ she said in a polite but firm tone, ‘but actually I’m wondering what you’re doing here.’ Then, a little amazed but thoroughly pleased with herself for taking this initiative, she held her breath and waited for his answer.

Leone looked at her and smiled. Good for her, he was thinking. He knew from their last confrontation that she didn’t lack spirit, but last time she hadn’t been aware of who he was. This time she clearly was and he’d wondered if her attitude might alter. That little demonstration that it hadn’t made her even more interesting.

‘Actually, it’s you who should forgive me.’ He held out his hand to her. ‘Here I am in your home and I haven’t even introduced myself. I’m Leone,’ he told her. ‘Leone Montecrespi.’

Carrie continued to look at him with steady hazel eyes. ‘Yes, I know who you are.’ Reluctantly, she took his hand, for she remembered all too vividly the effect of his handshake at the restaurant.