“Why did you name her Fearless?” Cassie asked as they walked back toward the villa.
“It seemed appropriate.” He paused a moment and continued lightly, “I have finally done something for you that you approve?”
“Indeed you have, my lord,” she said, pushing a heavy mass of wet hair from her forehead. “She is beautiful, so sleek.”
“Would you subscribe, my dear, to the notion that one good turn deserves another?”
She drew up a moment and gazed up at him warily. “You mean, my lord, if you scratch my back, I’m to scratch yours?”
“I desire a promise from you, Cassandra.” As her eyes gleamed suspiciously, he added with a smile, “Nothing in any way final, I assure you. Merely a stated agreement from you, of one evening’s duration.”
She pursed her lips, arguing with herself, and to his relief, she finally nodded.
“Very well,” she said slowly. “I suppose that I must take your word at some things. What is it you wish me to promise?”
“I am planning a dinner party this Thursday evening and have invited the cream of Genoese society. Since you are here with me, in Genoa, I ask that you attend the party, meet my friends, and conduct yourself with propriety.”
She looked up at him, her lips tightened. “So I am to pay the piper for my boat. You have planned this quite nicely, my lord. I hope you do not expect me to thank you for your deviousness.”
“Surely it is not so much to ask, Cassandra.”
“You are a villain, my lord.” She hunched her shoulder at him, gathered up her sodden skirt, and walked toward the gardens.
During the next few days, Joseph wondered if he would spend the remainder of his days guarding his master’s English lady, so sharp was her tongue around the earl. He knew it was only a matter of time before she approached him to help her escape. She did so on a lazy afternoon when they were fishing aboard her sloop in the middle of the lake.
“The fall months in England are beautiful,” she began, her voice soft with sadness.
“The fall months are beautiful most everywhere, madonna, save of course in northern Africa.” Joseph maintained a stoic countenance, knowing what was to come.
“But I am English,” she said, her voice sharp now, “and to me, there is nothing to compare to the crisp, cool air and the changing color of the leaves.” Her hands tightened around her fishing pole, and he sighed.
She laid a hand on his woolen sleeve. “Joseph, you know that I do not wish to be here, that I am naught but the earl’s prisoner. Will you not help me?” Cassie mistook his brooding silence for uncertainty. “There are ships, English ships, in the harbor. I saw them when we went to the city. I can get money, I know that I can. We could even arrange it so that the earl would believe that I struck you and escaped. You will see, he cannot blame you. Please help me—you must.”
Joseph raised a gnarled hand to her. “Madonna, why is it that you do not wish to wed the master?” She was not a fool, he knew, and the earl was of noble birth, titled and wealthy. Certainly, all the ladies he had observed appeared to find the earl most desirable, all the ladies save one.
“I have no wish to see my name inscribed in their precious Golden Book, and certainly not next to his. I will never wed him.”
“But why, madonna?”
“Your master, Joseph, kidnapped me the day before I was to be wed. He feigned friendship not only with my brother, but also with my fiancé.”
So there was another man who held her heart, he thought. Of a certainty there had not been sufficient time for her to forget. “I suppose that many would see the captain’s actions as ruthless. But I think, madonna, that his going to such lengths is proof of his feeling for you.”
“You will not help me?”
“No, madonna.”
Cassie nodded dully, and the subject was closed between them. It came as something of a shock to her to realize she had come to hold Joseph in great affection. He was unflaggingly patient, and never judged her even when her temper broke its bounds, merely regarding her in gentle silence, his brown eyes clear and untroubled beneath his bushy gray brows. Her temper had flared at him just the day before, because he had not allowed her to visit the harbor. She knew that he had acted on orders from the earl, but she could not contain herself. She wished now that she had not visited the city, though she had enjoyed seeing the shops, watching the flower girls weave bouquets of startling beauty, and drinking a cup of the thick Italian coffee underneath a sidewalk umbrella on the Via Balbi. Joseph had pointed out the Palazzo Reale, a magnificent structure, only one of many handsome palaces that lined the street, and had described its sumptuous rooms, the glowing colors of the tapestries and the pastel delicacy of the frescos.