As they rounded the house, Clara came hastening towards them.
"I heard loud screaming! It sounded as if you had been fighting with James and I thought that could not be possible, but he just asked his valet to pack!"
"Has he said anything to you?"
"No. Of course not, he only ever talks to me when he thinks he has to scold me. It's really quite annoying---"
"Spare me, please. You can discuss that with him once you're married."
"Me? I? Who?"
"Darlington and yourself. You'll be getting married in September."
Clara simply stared and Flora thought that now she looked rather like a pike, a pike on dry land, helplessly wagging it's fins, yapping.
"Sheesh, I feel like I'm herding geese! In with you, Miss Parker!" the Duke commanded and Flora unwillingly proceeded inside.
Ten
Palazzo Sforza, about half an hour later
For the second time in a month, Francesco found himself in Dominic St. Yves clothes. It was really quite amazing how well they fitted him.
English tailoring…
He suddenly felt a strong nostalgia for that rainy isle where he had spent so many years off his youth…for its crankiness and its irony, behind which there lay such a deep sense of honour.
Strange. All I had ever longed for was leaving England. And now, after years of travelling the world I find myself yearning to go back, to live the life of a country gentleman, on a nice estate, with some horses and some hounds and with…
He took a deep breath and banned the upcoming thoughts from his mind.
Strolling towards the drawing-room he heard a resounding female voice.
"I think it is quite the scandal, the poor girl! Dear daughter of mine, your husband is a brute, yes, a brute! And you, Flora, did nothing to prevent it. Now Darlington has simply run off like a frightened schoolboy, not at all the noble thing to do. In fact, it is very unlike him. My, that girl is not fit to be married to a man like him, she has such an innocent mind still, really, hadn't she even enjoyed "The Birds of Cheltenham Gardens"? I'm sure I remember you telling me so…"
Francesco walked brusquely into the room.
"Ah, Surrey, there you are—" the female voice began. The elegant older woman to whom the voice belonged halted in mid-sentence. "Oh, no! It's not Surrey." She got up from the settee and glided towards him. "Your Highness! I haven't seen you in ages. You were much smaller the last time. You will most likely not remember me, I'm Mary Cartwright, but when we last met I was still Lady Rivendon."
"Lady Cartwright, of course…" Francesco, who did not remember her, smiled and gently kissed her outstretched hand. "You have not aged a day."
"Oh, well, I can't complain… I believe you have already met my husband, Baron Cartwright?"
The two men bowed to each other.
"And of course, you have been introduced to our most beloved family member, Mr. Wimple." She pointed towards the fantastically huge basset hound who was lounging with its head on the lap of Dominic's Duchess.
"Thank you, Mama," that Duchess said drily.
"You would not have recognised him two months ago, Highness, his Swiss holiday has benefitted him so very, very much. He is the image of an athlete, would you not agree?"
"Quite, My Lady. Quite."
"The velocity! The ACCELERATION!" General Cartwright boomed. "To calculate how fast he must have run and how high he must have jumped to be able to take such a healthy girl as Flora Parker off her feet! Astounding. Astounding, indeed." He happily puffed on his pipe.
Don't say her name, don't say her name!
"Papa, Flora weighs hardly ninety pounds— contrary to myself. A gentle gush of wind would blow her out of a tree."
Francesco wanted to cover his ears with his hands and sing loudly to avoid hearing that name.
"An impressive specimen," he nodded, folded his arms and fixed the fat canine.
Anything, anything not to see HER.
"Well, your Highness, we've been told that you are a passionate practitioner of naughty— "
NAUGHTY?
He could no longer control his eyeballs and he had to look at her, sitting quietly on an armchair, hands folded in her lap, her hair still damp… she was so lovely it hurt. It's only a joke, she had said.
"…cal sports. Swimming and sailing and the such?"
"Oh, nautical… yes, Madame."
"Charming!"
"It was not at all recommendable to come swimming here with those injuries, not at all a good idea," Flora said severely. "He might have fainted on the way over and be drowned. It was very unwise."
"One cannot always have one's wishes fulfilled, Miss Parker…" Francesco stated coldly.