Roman Sunset (Tales from the Grand Tour Book 6) Read online

  Chapter 2

  Violetta could hear the audience gathering in the plaza from the make-shift dressing room set up for the acting troupe she belonged to. The dressing room was little more than a tent erected against the side of an old church, but it had plenty of space, partitions so that the actors could dress and undress in relative privacy, and a table with mirrors propped against the church wall, where she sat applying her make-up.

  The traditional make-up for Colombina wasn’t complicated. Unlike the male commedia dell’arte characters, the female characters didn’t wear masks. Although as Violetta stared at her reflection while applying lip rouge and powder, all she saw was a mask of a different kind.

  “You’re looking so pretty today,” her fellow actor, Maria, said as she sat beside Violetta to apply her own make-up. “I would give anything for eyes like yours.”

  Violetta grinned at Maria’s reflection in the mirror, giggling as though the two of them were schoolgirls gossiping late into the night. “We can’t do anything about the color of eyes we were born with,” she said in a voice that was far lighter and sweeter than her natural tone, “but there are a few tricks with kohl that you can use to make your eyes stand out. Observe.”

  She picked up the thin, kohl pencil at her place and demonstrated for Maria how to outline her eyes so that they were arresting, even from a distance. As she did, she preened and posed and made faces that would convince any outside observer that she was nothing more than a vain and silly actress who enjoyed flirting with herself in the mirror.

  Nothing about her outward appearance would let on that she was so much more than an ornament to be enjoyed by an appreciative audience. She’d been biding her time in Rome for more than a year, sending information about The Jackal and his criminal band back to London by whatever secret means she could. Her mission up until that point had been intelligence gathering. It wasn’t the most exhilarating work a spy could do, but it had given her an excuse to leave the difficult and depressing life of a minor gentleman’s daughter, confined to the country by societal rules that she hated, for an exotic life on stage in Rome.

  “I just can’t seem to get the same effect as you have,” Maria sighed, lowering her arms from her clumsy attempt to outline her eyes.

  “Here. Let me.” Violetta twisted to her, taking Maria’s kohl pencil and going to work.

  If her mother could see the life she was living now, she would take to her bed and never recover. As far as her mother knew, she was in Rome as a companion for an elderly widow. The letters she sent back once a month were filled with made-up stories of sitting with the old woman as she napped and looking out over educational ancient ruins. The stories kept her mother happy, so she continued to write them.

  Although her reality wasn’t much different, aside from her stint on the stage. She spent a lot of time looking at ruins and waiting for something to happen.

  Of course, something had happened just the night before. Lord Landry had waltzed into her life.

  She smiled and leaned away from Maria. “There,” she said. “What do you think?”

  Maria turned to blink at herself in the mirror. “Oh, it looks perfect.” She clapped her hands together with a giggle. “And to think, you’re playing my servant in the play and I’m La Signora.” She giggled again.

  Violetta imitated the woman, intent on using that sort of silliness in her disguise. Though the last thing she wanted to do, now that she’d met Lord Landry, was behave like a ninny.

  Lord Beverly had informed her one of the McGoverns would be meeting her at the hotel. He’d given Lord Landry’s name, listed a short history of who the man was, and explained in detail how she should assist the man in searching for his brother. She knew Lord Addlebury by reputation, though she had never met him before. The prospect of searching for a man as important as Lord Addlebury and rescuing him had thrilled her to the tips of her toes. Finally, her mission in Rome would involve something more than writing reports.

  And then she’d laid eyes on Lord Landry. Her whole body thrummed at the memory of him—disheveled from travel, clearly exhausted, and still as delicious as a maritozzo. And just like the sugary pastry, she wanted to devour him in one bite. Her mother would expire on the spot if she knew how carnal her youngest daughter’s thoughts had turned. Living as a spy in Rome had other advantages. She’d received quite an education in seduction, all of it necessary for someone who needed to pry information from men. Not that she didn’t enjoy the prying. She half wished that Lord Landry were a target instead of an ally in the cause. Seducing him would be a joy. Though who was to say that she couldn’t seduce him anyhow?

  “Signorina, you look as though you are contemplating mischief,” another of her fellow actors, Antonio, said, sweeping up to her side. He wore a lascivious grin and stared straight down the front of her costume as he stood over her in his Arlecchino costume.

  The wary, impatient feeling Antonio always gave her knotted her stomach. “Thank you, Antonio,” she said, smiling up at him as though she enjoyed the compliment. “You’re always so kind to me.”

  “A beauty like you is easy to be kind to.” Antonio leaned closer to her. “I wish you would allow me to be kinder to you still.”

  Violetta giggled and shied away from him. There was nothing inherently wrong with Antonio. He was still in his prime and she suspected he was fit and trim under his ridiculous costume. It wasn’t his physical appearance that put her off so much as the way he had pursued her relentlessly and clumsily since first joining the troupe two months before.

  “Now, Antonio,” she said, standing. “You know that I make it a policy not to dally with fellow members of the company.” It was a bit of a lie. She’d had an interesting fling with the actor Antonio had been hired to replace. Hector had shown her a very good time indeed before being hired as an understudy at the Teatro dell'Opera di Roma. But Antonio didn’t need to know that.

  “If it would make you see me as a lover, I would tear off this costume and throw it into the fire right now,” Antonio said with a dramatic flourish. “You are the sun and the moon to me. You are the ideal of beauty. You make Venus herself jealous.”

  Violetta laughed and pushed Antonio away. “You are too kind, sir.” The wariness that gripped her gut tightened. She pretended to find Antonio nothing but amusing and turned away from him to check her make-up in the mirror once more. “Who knows what the future will hold?”

  “I know,” he said, leaning in and resting a hand on Violetta’s backside for a moment. He squeezed—thankfully, she barely felt it, thanks to the layers of her costume—then walked off, whistling to himself.

  “It shocks me the way he ogles you,” Maria whispered. She glanced over her shoulder at Antonio’s retreating form, then looked at Violetta in the mirror. “I’m anxious for you.”

  Violetta laughed as though she hadn’t a care in the world, though she was just as wary as Maria was. “Antonio is harmless. Actors are all shameless flirts. I can take care of myself.” More than Maria could ever guess. Her Majesty’s Secret Service had trained her in far more than just deciphering documents and sending coded messages. She could defend herself physically far better than poor Antonio would ever guess.

  “Still.” Maria lowered her voice even more. “He obviously has wicked intentions toward you. I would be afraid to walk home alone in the dark if I knew a man wanted me the way Antonio wants you.”

  “I might not have to walk home alone in the dark any time soon,” Violetta said, returning to her gossipy persona.

  Maria took the bait, lighting up. “Do tell.” She twisted on her stool to gaze adoringly up at Violetta.

  “I met a charming English lord last night.” Violetta grinned from ear to ear. Her grin was genuine, as was her need to tell someone all about Lord Landry. “He’s the handsomest devil I’ve seen in a long time.”

  “What does he look like?” Maria asked, clasping her hands to her chest, eyes wide.

  “He’s tall,” Violetta said with a
n overdone sigh. She told herself that her mooning was all part of the act, but it seemed perfectly right, given the circumstances. “He has dark hair and even darker eyes. He’s about as well-formed as a woman could ask for, with broad shoulders and strong arms.”

  Maria’s eyes went wide at the description. Or perhaps at something she saw behind Violetta.

  Either way, Violetta went on. “He’s the sort of man you hope will steal into your bed in the deep of night to—”

  “I hope to God you plan to finish that sentence the way I want it to end.”

  Violetta gasped and whipped around to find none other than Lord Landry standing right behind her. Maria had seen something after all.

  “Lord Landry,” Violetta squeaked. She told herself that her breathlessness and the heat that flooded her face were from surprise and nothing more. “What brings you here?”

  “Call me Thomas, please,” he said with a rakish grin. Though there was a certain amount of tension in that grin. He darted a look to Maria before glancing quickly around. “After all, we have so many mutual acquaintances that we’re like old friends, are we not?”

  Violetta’s heart raced for a whole different set of reasons. Lord Landry—Thomas—had figured things out, or so it appeared. But Violetta could tell in an instant he wasn’t particularly skilled in the art of subterfuge. “Of course, we do.” She laughed, completely in character for Maria’s sake, and shifted to Thomas’s side, taking his arm. “Thomas and I ran in the same circles in London,” she explained to Maria. “Though we’re only just becoming better acquainted now.”

  She turned to Thomas, fixing him with a look that ordered him to say as little and be as charming as possible. A flash of confusion pinched Thomas’s brow for a moment before he smoothed it out and smiled.

  “We have so much catching up to do,” he said.

  “Yes, we most certainly do.” Violetta giggled and pretended to fawn over him, though that much wasn’t hard to do. “Come over here so that we can have a word in private,” she said, taking Thomas’s hand and leading him to the far end of the room.

  She tugged him behind a screen, then, when she peeked through the cracks to see whether Maria or any of the other troupe members who milled about, getting ready for the show, were watching, she lifted the edge of the tent and pulled Thomas outside and into an alley beside the church.

  “I’m sorry that it took me so long to figure things out last night,” Thomas said in a tight whisper. “If I hadn’t been so tired from the journey from Venice—”

  Violetta clapped a hand over his mouth to silence him. “The less that is said on the matter, the better,” she whispered. She craned her neck to look up and down the alley. There were far too many people crossing this way and that, either coming to the plaza to see the show or going about their usual business. Anything they said there ran the risk of being overheard.

  “It’s just that Lord Beverly didn’t give me much information to go on,” Thomas continued in a whisper. “He told me to look for the English Columbine, but he didn’t—”

  Violetta grabbed the lapels of his jacket and lifted to her toes, planting a deep kiss square on his mouth. It was the only way she could think of to shut him up, seeing as he utterly missed the point of her telling him to be quiet.

  As soon as his shock at her bold move passed, he hummed deep in his throat and closed his arms around her. Violetta should have been alarmed by the way he molded her body to his and kissed her back, but the ability to think quickly left her. His body was solid and tempting. His lips parted hers, and his tongue slipped deep into her eager mouth. Shivers of lust seared her as she gave in to the kiss, going so far as to make desperate, pleading noises. Every inch of her was suddenly on fire, and all she wanted was more, more, more.

  The sound of something being dropped in the tent beside them and a man clearing his throat shook her out of the moment of bliss. She gasped for breath and leaned back, though Thomas continued to hold her. Her pulse raced, both from the kiss and from the sure and certain knowledge that someone inside the tent had been spying on them. She hoped to God it was just Maria being nosey.

  “Do you see why we must wait to discuss this until later?” she whispered, barely audible.

  He made a series of indistinct sounds that didn’t quite form themselves into words. The way his eyes were glazed over was a sure sign that he wasn’t certain what had just happened.

  Violetta giggled for the benefit of anyone who might still be spying on them. “My, my, Lord Landry. You are a treat,” she said as though he were just another theater patron who hoped for a second show after the public one.

  “I…um….” He continued to look bowled over.

  Violetta slipped her arms up over his shoulders, leaning into him and bringing her mouth as close to his ear as she could. “I have a few ideas where your brother might be,” she whispered, still smiling. If anyone was able to see them, they would think she was making lewd suggestions and not sharing crown secrets. “I believe he has been moved more than once since being brought to Rome. But we can’t speak now. I have a show to do.”

  “Er…um…a show?” Slowly, after a few blinks, his face still pink with passion, Thomas started to come to his senses.

  “Yes.” She rocked back, gazing up at him with undisguised interest. “Once the show is over, I’ll show you everything you want to see and then some. We’ll make a night of it.”

  Anyone eavesdropping would think they were planning an assignation. If she were honest, Violetta wouldn’t say no to exactly that sort of sinful congress. Having Thomas’s arms around her, even when they were both fully clothed, was a delicious preview to what the main show might be where he was concerned.

  “Now go.” She forced herself to take a step back. “I have a performance, and you have thoughts to gather.”

  “I most certainly do,” he said, breaking into a heated grin. His expression was made all the more endearing by the fact that a good deal of her lip rouge had transferred itself to his lips.

  “Go,” she repeated with a giggle, wriggling out of his arms—though her body protested and begged her to fly back into them as quickly as possible—and turning him to the path that would lead him out to the front of the stage. “We’ll finish this later.”

  Thomas pointed to the path, glancing at her as if asking if she really wanted him to leave that way. She nodded yes, and he started down the path. He sent a cheeky grin to her over his shoulder right before turning and making his way around the corner of the tent.

  Violetta laughed, clapping a hand to her mouth. She’d been looking forward to the mission Lord Beverly had set for her, but now she was more eager to get started than ever. She ducked back into the tent, her head filling with all the ways she and Thomas could work together in the coming days.

  Her giddy thoughts were stopped short as she stepped out from behind the screen to find Antonio staring at her. His arms were crossed and he wore a disapproving frown.

  “Is that what you like?” he asked, clearly hurt. “Stupid Englishmen who look like they just stepped off the boat?”

  Violetta laughed and rested a hand on Antonio’s arm. “Don’t be jealous, Antonio. Lord Landry is just a friend from home. It was nice to see him again, but you have nothing to worry about.”

  In spite of her top-notch acting effort, Antonio didn’t look convinced. “I wish you would give me half the chance you gave him,” he said, his bottom lip turning into a pout. “I’m a good man too. I would treat you the way a queen should be treated.”

  He was so sweet and so clueless that Violetta almost felt sorry for him. “Perhaps someday,” she said, walking back to her case of stage make-up to refresh her rouge. “But for now, we have a performance to put on, my Arlecchino.”

  “A performance that the crowds of tourists will be talking about for years to come,” Antonio said, seeming to recover. He headed toward the tent flap that led to the stage, singing as he went.

  Violetta lost her smile as she appl
ied lip rouge. Lust had a way of making her clumsy, but she couldn’t shake the feeling that Thomas McGovern, Lord Landry, would be worth every dangerous situation and near discovery that their association might land her in.

  Chapter 3

  Thomas stumbled out of the alley and into the crowded plaza as if he’d had a whole vat of wine to drink and no longer knew which way was up. He wore the sort of foolish grin a drunkard would have worn as well. His lips still tingled from Violetta’s kiss, and his cock was so stiff he couldn’t walk comfortably. A few passersby in the plaza sent him odd looks, as though he might be a danger to them or to himself, but Thomas ignored them.

  He cleared his throat and straightened, tugging at the hem of his jacket to make certain the evidence of the way Violetta had turned his blood to fire wasn’t visible to every tourist and local that passed him. He was in Rome for an incredibly serious reason, and he couldn’t let a pair of pretty eyes—and a pair of other pretty things—distract him from finding and rescuing Asher.

  But, dear God, it was hard to keep his wits about him when Violetta Roan was in the world.

  With a smile still plastered across his face, he sauntered around the edge of the tent where the actors were busy preparing and took his place in the audience for the show. There were only a few benches at the very front of the plaza, and since those were taken up by the elderly and small children, Thomas wandered to the back of the standing crowd. A pair of clowns were already on the stage, miming through a crude and hilarious routine where one was searching for an apple that the other kept hiding in various, unmentionable body parts. It was entertainment of the lowest order, but the tourists and holiday-makers who had lined up to see the show seemed utterly amused by the spectacle.

  After only a few minutes, the clowns ended their act, and the main characters of the commedia dell’arte show entered the stage to great fanfare. Thomas knew very little about the theatrical art form that was commedia dell’arte. He knew that the show was made up of certain stock characters—The Lovers, The Doctor, The Captain, Pierrot the sad clown, and the clever servants, Harlequin, or Arlecchino, and Columbine—and that, while there was a set plot, the lines were usually improvised. Violetta’s troupe seemed to be masters of the art right from the start. The aristocratic lovers took the stage, complaining that they were being kept apart by the woman’s father, then concocting a plan to use their servants to bring them together.