Glittering Promises (12 page)

“We missed you too,” Lil said, looping her arm through mine. “Wait until we tell you of the young men we saw,” she whispered, giggling with Nell.

“The only young men you need to pay attention to are your brothers,” Felix said, mock-sternly. The girls twittered a giggle again and moved off to change.

Will took my hand and led me through some French doors to a small balcony. “Are you all right?”

“What? Oh, yes. I’m fine, fine. It’s only that…” I paused, suddenly feeling shy.

He bent his head, trying to get a good look at my face. “Only what? Was it as bad as all that?”

“Worse.”

He wrapped me in his arms and held me close. “I’m sorry. Surely it will get better in time.”

“I don’t know. Andrew is simply awful,” I whispered.

“He’s only defending his territory. You keep defending yours.” He kissed my head, and again, I was so glad that he was back. The rest, too. It would alleviate some of the tension, being in their company again.

“Will, do you think we might slip away for a walk together?”

“I’d love that,” he said. “Let me change my coat, and I’ll meet you in five minutes, all right?”

I nodded, and we kissed and parted. But soon, I hurried up the stairs too, knowing that this was the moment I had been waiting for. The perfect opportunity to give him his gift. In my room, I went to the bureau and opened the top drawer, sliding out the wooden box. I opened the lid and smiled over the gold watch. He was going to love it. What a joy it was to be able to give something so nice to the man I loved…

I slipped on my hat, pinning it with three long pins, and placed the box in a drawstring purse, then left the room. Will was waiting for me at the bottom of the stairs and offered his arm with a grin. Hearing voices approach, we quickly scurried out of the foyer and through the front door, closing it quietly behind us. Both of us were more than eager for a little time alone, and wished to slip out unseen in order to avoid a chaperone’s company.

“I know just where to go,” Will said, leading me down the street. “There’s a place my uncle took me once, not far from here.”

“Wonderful. Lead on.”

Along the way, Will told me of their hike and the people they met, of the beautiful vistas, and of a fish fry for dinner down by the sea the night before. It all sounded so much more idyllic than my last two days, it practically made me cry that I had missed it. But such were the sacrifices I might need to make if I were to take on the mantle of responsibility my father had offered me.

Soon enough, we had turned the corner, and I saw where Will was taking me. We went down between two tall buildings to the very end of the street, which was capped by a waist-hall wall. I leaned against it and over it, looking down the cliff face to the sea waves crashing against the rocks two hundred feet below. The sun was sinking in the distance, and the wind blew against my hat. I unpinned the hat and removed it, worried I might lose it, while Will looked up the quiet alleyway and then wrapped his arms around me from the back.

“Mmm,” I said happily. “This reminds me of Carcassonne.”

“Me too.”

I turned in his arms. “I have a present for you,” I said.

“You do?”

I nodded and slipped my purse strings from my elbow and opened it. “Will, I’m so happy to be with you. And I wanted to get you something special. When I saw this, I knew you had to have it.”

He moved his head backward, as if he was both surprised and a little displeased, but he reached for the box and carefully opened the lid. His lips parted in surprise, and I grinned as he lifted the watch from its bed of velvet. But then he was frowning. “Cora, I can’t take this. It’s far too expensive.”

“But you have to accept it!” I said. “I bought it for you! I can’t take it back to the watchmaker…it’s miles behind us now.”

He looked at me in misery. “But I haven’t given you a thing. It’s not proper!”

“I don’t want anything,” I said, confused, taking his hand as he stepped a few inches away. “I have everything I need in you.”

He looked to the sea and then back to me, and so much was going on behind his handsome light-blue eyes, it frightened me. Was he having second thoughts? About us? “Don’t you see?” he asked, squeezing my hand. “This is what I fear most. You buying me gifts. And me, the pauper beau, unable to reciprocate. What will that look like to others?”

“To others?” I repeated, pulling him closer. “I thought we didn’t care what others thought.”

“Oh, Cora,” he said, pulling away. “We all care, despite what we say. Don’t we?”

“This is ridiculous! So I am to never buy you a present? Throughout our courtship?”

“No. I didn’t say that. But this watch…” He held it up, and it glinted a warm, burnished gold in the evening sun. “It’s an extravagance, Cora.”

I shifted, uncomfortable. I’d known it was too much at the time. Why hadn’t I listened to that note of caution in my heart? And all at once, I was thinking about the pearl necklace, the one Father had sent to me for my sixteenth birthday, as he had given Viv and Lil on theirs. But were such gifts the way toward true relationship? I shook my head—confused, embarrassed, frustrated, hurt, angry, all in quick succession. “Keep it or not. I don’t care.” With that, I shoved off, walking swiftly up the street.

“Cora!” he called, and I ignored him, continuing on. “Cora,” he said again a moment later when he’d caught up. He took my arm and forced me to a stop. “Can we talk about this?”

“What, Will? Apparently I made an error of judgment. I purchased the man I love a gift. And that was clearly wrong.” I hated what I was saying,
how
I was saying it, but couldn’t seem to stop myself. I hurried off again.

He caught up with me again. “Look, it’s not that I object to the gift. It’s that I can’t reciprocate. Is it too much to ask that we keep presents small? Trinkets, until…I don’t know,” he said, running an agitated hand through his hair. “For the foreseeable future?”

We were at the corner, and I paused to allow a curious couple to pass us. “Yes. I’m sorry I gave it to you, truly.”

He stared at me in misery. “Please, Cora. Don’t be like this.”

“Like what? Generous? Loving? You’re the one who is practically throwing my gift back in my lap. I didn’t know it would offend you. Why do we have to reciprocate at all? Why can’t I give a gift without expecting anything in return? And why do you think I expect it? I don’t!”

“It’s not proper,” he resorted to saying. “It’s a man’s place to give a girl a gift, not the other way around.”

I sighed and tried to gather myself. “What if this is the only gift I give you—for say…a year?”

He gave me a tentative smile and took my hand. “So…you anticipate being together for a year or more?”

I squeezed his hand hard and gave him a look of displeasure. “Now who is behaving ungentlemanly? What sort of question is that?”

His smile grew, and my tension eased a little, even though I was irked with him. “That was ungentlemanly of me,” he admitted, holding on to my hand and covering it with his other. “Here is my proposal. You make the watch your only gift to me for two years, and I’ll accept it.”

Two years.
I smiled. “Deal.”

He kissed my hand and tucked it through the crook of his arm, and we walked back to the apartments. But even as we settled into some semblance of a conversation, my stomach turned. Because something was now off between us. Just a little skewed. And I couldn’t quite put my finger on what.

~William~

They left the Cinque Terre and journeyed southward for a time, settling into sleepy Siena rather than the crowded Florence. The group traveled into Florence for the day, hoping to get in and out before they were recognized by any journalists or other American tourists, as they had done in Pisa and Lucca. That morning, they were touring the Uffizi in smaller groups—in an effort to attract less attention—gazing in rapt fascination at Botticelli’s massive
Birth of Venus
painting. Time and time again, it surprised Will, seeing the famous works of art in Italy in person. But as they stood there, admiring the painting of a lovely naked woman arising from a clamshell, Hugh Morgan came up behind Cora and whispered loudly, “Well, you all have found far more intriguing artwork than we have today.”

“Really, Hugh,” Cora said. “Must you always try and insert the devil in every tranquil scene?”

“Yes,
must
you?” asked his little sister, fanning her round face. “And why aren’t you with your group?”

Hugh shrugged. “A man needs a little fun, Nell. Look,” he said, glancing over his shoulder and around the room, “I realize it’s a gift to see such famous works of art. But I have to say, if I never saw one more oil painting, it would suit me just fine. My head simply cannot take in any more facts of artistic methods or dates or titles. Can we not find a more entertaining method of learning about Firenze?” he asked Will. “Preferably something involving wine and women?”

“Much as I hate to admit it, I, too, seem about saturated,” Cora said, giving Will an apologetic look. The younger girls bobbed their heads.

Will understood their weariness; by this time on the tour, almost everyone resisted seeing one more art museum or church, as they’d already seen so many. “Regardless of your weariness, Hugh, you’d best return to your group. You’ll send Antonio into fits if he discovers you’ve disappeared.”

“Not at all,” Hugh said with a dismissive wave. “Antonio’s in the next room. About to enter…now.”

Will shook his head and heaved a sigh, then waved Antonio over as the other group did indeed appear. “I’ve changed my mind,” Will announced to the reunited group. “I’ll give you the short course of the Uffizi, then take you to see something rather more interesting…something few tourists can see. If I can manage a visit with no notice, of course.”

“Well,
that
sounds intriguing,” Vivian said, her eyes alight. But she wore a certain worry in the depths of her eyes. He wondered how she and Andrew were faring. Would she ever have the courage to break off her courtship with the man, once and for all?

“It is,” he said, cocking one brow and nodding. “So, onward. I wouldn’t be any sort of tour guide if you didn’t at least see a fair number of Lippi, Titian, and Caravaggio paintings, as well as a few da Vincis and Michelangelos. Then we’ll separate again outside and get some lunch, meet at the campanile, and I’ll take you someplace special.”

Antonio gave him a long look, questions in his eyes.

“I thought we’d stop by Signore Feliza’s,” Will said quietly. “See if he might grant us access to the warehouse.”

Antonio’s bushy black-and-grey brows shot up on his wide, wrinkled forehead. “You think it’s possible? It’s been years. Last time your uncle tried, he refused us.”

“But he felt bad about that and now probably feels he owes Uncle Stuart a favor. I think I’ll collect on it, since Stuart shan’t be seeking to do so.”

Antonio half turned to the group. “If your bear succeeds, you are in for a treat. A treat indeed.”

“My man is most resourceful,” Cora said, looping her arm through his and placing her other hand on it too. “I have every confidence he’ll succeed.”

Will blushed at her use of “my man,” partially liking her claim but chafing over it too. Was he her man? Or was she his woman? Or both? He shook his head.
You’re being foolish. Prideful. Move on, man.

He loved her. And if he could afford a ring, he’d propose to her that very day. If she wore his ring, if he knew they were promised to each other, would that ease some of his agitation? He pondered that as they left the Uffizi, walking down the street and opting for a brief picnic of bread and cheese on the steps of the church and baptistery. It reminded Will of another place he wanted to take Cora. He lifted his head and checked the sun. It might be perfectly timed, if he was figuring right.

After eating, they moved back into the stream of crowds, passing vendors who sold leather goods and pottery, and crossed over the cobblestone streets to the Accademia dell’Arte. “Inside is the
David
,” Will said to Cora, “which I definitely want you to see. But today I want you all to see something I like even better.”

~Cora~

We passed the front entrance of the Accademia and moved around to the back of the big building, pausing at what appeared to be an entrance to a storehouse behind it. Will cast an anxious eye to the throngs of people heading to the famous museum that held
David
and rapped on the door around the corner. After a minute, a short, older man with a bulbous nose opened it, wiping his mouth with a napkin. “
Chi è?”
he asked in irritation, squinting into the sun.

Then recognition softened his expression, and his face split into a wide grin. “William!” he said, lifting his arms out and offering his face for the common Italian greeting of a kiss to one cheek, then the other. The man I assumed was Signore Feliza squeezed Will’s arms and then patted them, speaking rapidly in Italian. He cast an admiring glance over Will’s charges, and then his eyes landed on me.

“Bellissima! Chi è questa ragazza?”

I didn’t know what he said, but his expression and tone seemed directed at me, so I smiled at the man, who was about my height. He patted his chest as if my smile alone gave him heart palpitations and elbowed Will knowingly, chattering on.

“Signore Feliza
mi permetta di presentarle
Miss Cora Diehl Kensington,” Will said. “Miss Diehl Kensington, meet Signore Feliza.”

“How do you do, Signore?”

“Very well,” he said, obviously proud of this little bit of English. “And you?”

“Very well,” I said.

He seemed to remember there were others with us then and reached out to shake Antonio’s hand and warmly greet the rest, one at a time. Then he cast a look of concern to Will again. “
Dove è Stuart
?”

“
Sono davvero spiacente di dirti che Stuart è morto più di un mese fa
,” Will said.

Even I could figure out that the two were conversing about Stuart’s passing. The man’s face contorted with sorrow. Then he said, “
Vieni, vieni
,” gesturing us into a small apartment. He and Will went on chatting. I decided that Will was telling our host about Stuart’s death in Carcassonne, and after a moment, the two laughed over a shared memory, Antonio and Pascal joining in.