Ella: an Everland Ever After Tale (18 page)

“I… see.”

“I don’t.” He couldn’t help the quip, and a snort from the other chair told him he’d judged the other man’s sense of humor well.

“So you have no eyes to pain you, and you sit here in the darkness, alone, with a silk scarf tied around your face, sipping brandy?”

“You say it like these are negative things.”

“Are you lonely?”

“Indeed not, Doctor. How could I be lonely, with all of the unexpected, uninvited visitors I have stopping by?” This time there was a definite laugh, and Vincenzo smiled deep in the thickness of his beard.

“I’d hoped that you wouldn’t mind visitors. The town is remarkably curious about you,
Signore
. The little information I’ll be able to pass on to them now will only whet their appetites further.” He managed to make that sound like a threat.

Vincenzo placed the brandy glass on the side table and leaned forward, bracing his hands on his knees. “And what exactly will you tell them?”

“That the rumors are correct about your ghastly manners and lonely existence.” Good, that’s what he wanted people to know about it. “And that your accent is definitely not Italian.”

Damn
. Oh well, it’s not like he really thought that he’d pass. He’d taken the name Bellini almost a decade ago, as part of his campaign to always appear just a bit exotic. He could mimic the accent quite well, thanks to his ear for music. And he’d kept up the charade as he toured—except when he visited Rome and Milan, because he knew he couldn’t fool
them
. But coming here for rest, seclusion… he’d known he couldn’t keep up the accent, and rather hoped that no one would ask about it.

Ten minutes into meeting his first Everland denizen, and he’d been foiled. “And you know a lot about Italian accents, do you, Doctor?”

“There were plenty of Italian immigrants where I grew up.”

“New York City, if I’m not mistaken.”

There was silence from the other chair. Over the years, he’d learned to feel, to
taste
the atmosphere of a room, and this one was suddenly quite chilly. Finally, his guest spoke, low and deep and not just a bit menacing. “I prefer to keep my past my private business,
Signore
.”

Vincenzo’s fingers kneaded the fabric of his trousers, and he smiled wickedly, only imagining what it must make him look like. “I’m glad that we understand one another.”

The other man must have understood the implied threat, because he was silent for a long minute. Vincenzo sat back, hoping he’d made his point; his past was his own business, the same as Dr. Carpenter’s.

When the other man spoke, it was in his normal tone again, with a hint of thoughtfulness. “I think, perhaps, that Gordon was right about you and me.”

“That we’re alike?”

A faint brush of skin against fabric from the other chair, which might’ve been a nod. “And because we’re alike, I’ll tell you the same thing I’ve told my other patients, whether or not you have need of me right now.” Vincenzo heard the doctor take a breath, and shift his weight. “My wife Laura and I represent the sum of Everland’s medical professionals. The townspeople call me ‘doctor’, but I have never attended—or graduated from—a medical school. Laura has, but I’ve gotten all of my medical knowledge from books.”

“An interesting confession, ‘doctor’.” And one that he appreciated. It was worth knowing, if he ever had need of medical services. “Why would you tell me all of this?”

“Most of Everland knows,
Signore
. I don’t think it’s fair to pretend to be something I’m not, when lives are at stake. It hasn’t stopped them from coming to me for treatment, or calling me ‘Doc’. I’ve patched up everyone at some point or another.”

“They must consider you competent.”

Another creak of the leather. “I like to think I am. I’ve saved more people than I’ve killed, definitely.”

Can I say the same?
Vincenzo felt for the glass of brandy, and took another burning sip. His unexpected visitor was becoming unexpectedly interesting. ”I think, Doctor—“ he would join the rest of his new neighbors in giving the other man the title until proven otherwise, “That you must have some fascinating stories. I know that we’ve just agreed to leave each other’s past alone, but if you ever feel the need to unburden yourself, I’d be very much interested in hearing how you ended up here.”

There was a snort from the other chair, and Vincenzo heard the smile in the man’s voice when he spoke. “Likewise, I hope you’ll consider me a friend one day, and unburden your own past. My wife and daughter have been clamoring non-stop to know more about you, and to hear your play.”

He’d kept his past a secret for a decade, but was there any real need for it? Now that he’d given up touring, now that he had more money than Midas, now that he just wanted some peace and solitude? He shrugged and toasted the other man. “It’s unlikely Doctor, but I’ll keep your offer in mind.”

“You can call me Jack, you know.”

Can I?
Vincenzo thought about it. Calling the man by his given name would imply they had a bond, a connection. Would mean he was a friend.

He was saved from trying to answer by the door from the hall opening again. This time he didn’t hear Gordy’s heavy tread, but the fleet four-footed patter he knew so well. He whistled between his teeth, hoping that for once Rajah would come when he was called.

The big cat’s steps skirted the doctor’s chair, and Vincenzo braced himself as he heard his pet leap. Rajah’s weight landing in his lap at the same time he heard his guest suck in a startled breath. Grinning slightly, Vincenzo stroked the large cat as if being sat on by a giant feline was an everyday occurrence in his life. Which it was.

Rajah made a noise deep in his throat which sounded a bit like a clicking growl, but which Vincenzo knew to be a purr. He moved his right hand—he was still holding his brandy in the other, after all—up to the sensitive spot behind the cat’s pronounced ears, and the purr became a rumble.

“Good God, man.” The doctor’s voice sounded strained, barely above a whisper. “Is that a leopard? You’ve got a
leopard
sitting on your lap?”

Rajah seemed to know when he was being mentioned, because his head whipped around towards their guest. Vincenzo scratched under the long chin, and the cat made a pleased noise. “This is Rajah, Doctor. Rajah, meet Doc Carpenter. He’s not a real doctor, but I think we can forgive him that, can’t we?”

The cat, bless his soul, chose that moment to let out a
meow
that didn’t sound anything like a house cat. “Rajah is a Serval, Doctor, from Africa. He was given to me by the Tomasi family, the princes of Lampedusa in Italy. The Serval is on their crest, and rather important to them. Rajah was hardly a kitten when I received him, and would only answer to the ridiculous name they’d pinned on him.”

“He’s not a leopard?” The other man’s voice was still strained.

“No. A leopard wouldn’t be able to sit on my lap, nor would I want him to.” There was a slow, controlled exhale from the other chair, as if the doctor was relaxing again.

“
Why
do you have a… a Serval?”

“I told you; he was a gift. He’s been my only companion, haven’t you, boy?” He scratched harder, and was rewarded with a
meow
that made him grin. 

“Except Gordon?”

“Well, Gordy hardly counts, does he?” It was an ongoing joke between the two of them, but the doctor didn’t need to know that. “Dr. Carpenter, Rajah is my pet, and is quite used to me. I assure you that however fierce he may look, whatever stories you may have heard about wild beasts, Rajah is quite gentle. He knows he’s a bit of an oddity, and I think he likes it.”

It wasn’t until the silence stretched for a little too long that Vincenzo reviewed what he’d just said, and realized the implications.
Oh, damn
. The other man wasn’t going to ignore them, either. “Rather like yourself, I think,
Signore
.”

Vincenzo didn’t reply, focused only on the short fur under his callused fingertips and the steady rumble from the animal on his lap.

“You know, there are some people in this town who are here for the same reason you and I are. People who want to leave their pasts behind them. Everland is a good place for that.”

“I’m glad I picked it, then.” He hadn’t; his agent had, but there was no need to tell the doctor that.

“And with a few notable exceptions, the people of Everland are good as well. We’re a community,
Signore
. There are people here who will gladly welcome you, who look forward to the chance to become your friend.”

“I’m not looking for friends, Doctor.”

“Everyone needs someone, Vincenzo.” He hadn’t given the other man permission to use his name, but he couldn’t bring himself to fight it. The creaking of the leather told him that the doctor had shifted forward in his seat. “There’s got to be something—someone—in this town, among your neighbors, who you’d like have in your life.”

Vincenzo resisted the urge to deny it outright, and instead thought.
Was
there something that was missing in his life? There was plenty missing; but was there something that this town could provide that none of the Eurasian capitols of the arts could?

After a long, silent minute, he knew. “Does this town have a bookstore? A library?”

“Mrs. Mayor’s store serves both purposes.” He could hear the confusion in the other man’s voice.

“Does Mrs. Mayor have a nice voice?”

“I hadn’t thought of it, but I suppose it’s unobjectionable.”

“Good.” He nodded, and put down the glass of brandy. “I used to read, before I lost my eyes. Gordy has been a poor substitute, not least of which because I had to teach him to read after he joined me. The damn brogue of his is annoying, and a man can’t enjoy the paper or the book with him dropping his ‘Gs’ and rolling his ‘Rs’ all the time.”

“You want Mrs. Mayor to
read
to you?”

“Perhaps. You asked if there was anything that this town could offer me, besides the solitude I’m obviously not getting. Well, I suppose that I wouldn’t be adverse to meeting Mrs. Mayor, and working out some sort of arrangement.”

“Laura did tell me that she thought Mrs. Mayor could use another income…” The doctor sounded as if he didn’t like gossiping. Excellent; Vincenzo didn’t want to hear any more about Everland’s denizens than he had to.

“Then I’m sure we’ll work something out. Shall I have Gordy arrange a meeting?”

“Has he met her?”

“How should I know what he does while I’m practicing? I assume he’s wandering the streets of his new home, wailing and gnashing his teeth because I’m not available to be waited upon.”

A chuckle from the other chair. “I’ll arrange for Mrs. Mayor to meet with you, Vincenzo. And I’ll take Gordy around to meet your other neighbors.”

“You’re bound and determined to involve me in this blasted town, aren’t you?”

“I’m a doctor. I heal people. And I think that becoming part of our community would heal you.”

“You’re wrong.” Vincenzo’s voice had gone flat, and Rajah hissed in response. “I’m beyond healing, and I’ve made my peace with that. I’d appreciate it if you’d respect my wishes.”

The other man stood, and Vincenzo heard the sounds of him picking up his bag and moving towards the door. “I can’t say that it’s been a pleasure,
Signore
Bellini, but it certainly has been an experience. I look forward to my next visit.”

“Assuming I allow it.”

“I think you’ll find Wyoming to be a bit…
wilder
than London or Paris or wherever you’ve been touring. Here, people are nosier, and there’s not a hell of a lot you can do about it. Good afternoon.”

Long after the door shut behind the other man—the man who Vincenzo was flatly refusing to consider a friend—he sat and petted Rajah, and thought about what he the doctor had said. Why was he
here
? Why had he decided to stop touring, to leave it all behind him? To settle down? Did he really want solitude, or was settling here a subconscious way of desiring a place in a community? Did he know what he really wanted, now that he was putting that other life behind him? Had he thought about it before, thought about his future?

He thought about it now, sitting with only the large cat’s company. In the darkness.

Find out how beastly Vincenzo tames beautiful Mrs. Mayor in

Beauty: An Everland Ever After Tale

ACKNLOWEDGEMENTS

First of all, thank you to all of my fans; readers who enjoy sweet historical western romance crossed with fairy tales! I couldn’t do what I love without your support. I owe a grand debt to my critique partners
JA Coffey
and
Merry Farmer
, and my “I wanna be you when I grow up” mentor,
Kirsten Osbourne
. Thanks are also owed to my editor, the awesome Eve Hart of
Hart’s Romance Pulse
, and to my Cohort. If you’re on Facebook, and you adore the Everland tales enough to want to help brainstorm the next one and promote the current one, drop me a line about joining Caroline’s Cohort. The more, the merrier!

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Caroline Lee is what George R.R. Martin once described as a "gardener author"; she delights in “planting” lovable characters in interesting situations, and allowing them to “grow” their own stories. Often they draw the story along to completely unexpected--and wonderful!--places. She considers a story a success if she can re-read it and sigh dreamily... and she wishes the same for you.
 

A love of
 historical romance prompted Caroline to pursue her degrees in social history; her Master's Degree is in Comparative World History, which is the study of themes across history (for instance, 'domestication of animals throughout the world,' or 'childhood through history'). Her theme? You guessed it: Marriage throughout world history. Her favorite focus was periods of history that brought two disparate peoples together to marry, like marriage in the Levant during the Kingdom of Jerusalem, or marriage between convicts in colonial New South Wales. She hopes that she's able to bring this love of history-- and this history of love-- to her novels. 

Each one of the books in her Sweet Cheyenne Quartet has reached the Best-Sellers list on Amazon, and all are available in e-book and paperback formats. 

Caroline is living her own little Happily Ever After with her husband and sons in North Carolina.

You can find her at
www.CarolineLeeRomance.com
.