Part 5 (1/2)

Do you not wish me to accompany you?'

'Of course I do, but...'

Then why do you make such a fuss?'

She drew a deep breath. 'I'm not making a fuss. I just don't want to be a bother to you.'

'You are only a bother when you keep arguing. We will have tea and then I will escort you home.'

Back in the salon he rang for a servant while Erica wandered round the room, admiring the many beautiful and priceless objects in it. Half a dozen Faberge boxes were arranged on the gla.s.s shelves of a tall cabinet, while in another one reposed a similar number of jewelled Faberge eggs, some closed and some open to show the unusual interiors.

'It must be a great responsibility to take care of all this,' she remarked.

'It is. I often think I'd be far happier if I were a self-made man. If you make your own wealth, you have the choice of deciding how to spend it But if one inherits so much...' His black head tilted as his eyes ranged the room. 'Sometimes I feel it to be a ball and chain.'

*What stops you from selling everything?'

'And deny my heritage? Such a thing would be impossible. Besides, most of the time I enjoy it. It is only occasionally that I feel I would prefer to be poor and unknown. At least if I were, I would never have any doubts about the sincerity of my friends.'

Without being told, she knew he was really referring to women. Sympathy for him warmed her, melting some of her reserve. To think of the Conte as a man looking for genuine friends.h.i.+p made him less frightening than to see him as the head of one of Italy's leading families.

The door opened and two servants came in carrying a small table which they set in front of the settee nearest to the fireplace. On it was a silver tea-set and a beautifully worked Florentine coffee pot in gold.

'The coffee is for you?' she surmised.

There was an unmistakable twinkle in his eyes. 'When I said we would have tea together, I meant the partic.i.p.ation of the ceremony, not the liquid!'

She laughed and poured him a cup of coffee, trying to keep her hand steady. It was no easy task, for he watched her every movement and, even when she had given him his cup, he continued to watch her as she served herself. The tea was surprisingly strong and milk as well as lemon was provided. Gratefully she added milk and sipped.

'Delicious,' she said. 'It's real English tea.'

'I have it sent from London. My sister prefers it to coffee. It is a legacy left from her marriage.'

'I understand Mr. Charters was killed?'

'Yes. It was a most tragic business. My sister is only now beginning to recover from it. That is why it is so important for her to have no worries.'

Erica found it hard to imagine what worries a member of the Rosetti family could have. Not monetary ones in any event; and other worries could frequently be cus.h.i.+oned by wealth.

'Money doesn't solve one's problems,' he said as though aware of what was going through her mind. 'Frequently it creates them. In Sophie's case, for example. She has-' He stopped as the door opened and a pet.i.te, dark-haired woman came in.

With a sense of shock Erica recognized Claudia Medina. The woman was holding out her hands to the man, her face tilted to receive the kiss which he placed on her cheek.

'Filippo, forgive me,' she said in a husky voice. 'I know we weren't supposed to meet till later, but Uncle Otto caught the earlier plane to Paris and it left me free.'

'I thought he was staying until this evening?'

'We finished our discussion during lunch and he was afraid we'd start to quarrel again if he remained any longer! He is even worse than usual. Anyone would think he is still my guardian!'

'He brought you up,' the Conte reminded her.

'But I have been married and widowed since then.' Claudia tossed her head. 'It is foolish of him to treat me as if I were still a single girl. He as good as told me that if I'm not remarried within a year, he'll cut my allowance.'

'I am sure you will find a way of getting around him.'

She shrugged and looked at Erica. 'We have met before somewhere,' she smiled, 'but I cannot quite place it.'

'I work for Signora Botelli,' Erica said.

Instantly the smile thinned and Erica could almost hear the woman's mind working. What was a jewellery a.s.sistant doing at the palazzo? More important still, why was she taking tea with its owner?

Unwilling to be in the way, Erica stood up. 'Thank you for a delightful afternoon, Conte.' She spoke directly to him, but avoided looking into his face.

'There is no need for you to go yet,' he replied.

Ignoring the comment, she smiled good-bye at Claudia Medina, who stood in front of him, noticing in the split second she focused on them what a handsome couple they made: both dark and olive-skinned; both with black flas.h.i.+ng eyes. But where the man was wide-shouldered and full of animal strength, the woman was feminine and fragile.

Swiftly Erica left the room, not even giving the Conte a chance to reach the door and open it for her. Across the long hall she sped and down the flight of stone steps that led to the vast lower hall. Late afternoon sunlight streamed through the windows overlooking the Grand Ca.n.a.l and sent golden shafts across the grey stone floor. The heavy wooden front door was locked and her fingers fumbled at the ma.s.sive iron bolts. Slowly they slid back, but as she went to open the door itself a long-fingered hand came out to cover her own.

'Why such a precipitate flight?' Filippo Rosetti asked.

Startled, she looked into his face. He was smiling slightly, but she knew he was angry. 'It is late, Conte, and I must be getting back.'

'A little while ago we agreed that I would take you home.'

'That was before Signora Medina arrived.'

'What has Claudia's arrival got to do with it?'

'You can't leave her now.'

'I did not ask her to come so early.'

Dumbfounded, she stared at him.

'There is no need to look so concerned,' he continued. The fact that Claudia decided to call here much earlier than arranged does not alter the plans I made with you.'

'You made no plans with me.'

'Indeed I did.' He held open the door and inclined his head for her to go ahead of him.

'Please don't bother seeing me home,' she protested. 'I'm perfectly capable of going on my own.'

'So you said before. Be careful, Miss Rayburn, or you could become that most obnoxious of all women - an argumentative one! Now please give in gracefully.'

'I've no intention of giving in. Do go back to Signora Medina.'