Cassie gazed about her with pleasure. Fresh flowers overflowed from vases that lined the walls of the wide entrance hall, and branches of candles had been added, making the villa as dazzling bright as if it were day.
The knocker sounded loudly, and Scargill motioned one of the footmen to the door.
“It would appear, my lord, that you have approached this evening with quite a flair,” Cassie said behind her hand as the wide front doors swung open to admit Caesare.
“I hoped that you would approve, cara. Ah, my dear brother, you are a vision to behold.” He pumped Caesare’s outstretched hand.
“As ever, Antonio, it must be I to carry on the Parese tradition of elegance. Ah, but you are the vision, Cassandra, not I,” he said, his eyes resting a moment on the pearls. “Antonio, expect all the gentlemen tonight to yearn for your imminent demise.”
The earl laughed. “I trust that you will protect me, Caesare.”
“Nay, dear brother,” Caesare said, “I shall be the one to head the list.” He turned to Cassie. “You know, of course, that any party given by the earl is a topic of conversation days in advance.”
Cassie raised her eyes from his bright plum velvet evening wear to the frothy silver lace at his throat, and cocked her head to one side questioningly.
“What Caesare refers to, my dear,” the earl interposed, “is my English predilection for providing an abundance of food.”
“But what has that to say to anything, my lord? Of course one would provide a splendid meal for one’s guests.”
Caesare grinned, and shook his head. “Surely the earl has told you of the famous Genoese thriftiness? It extends, alas, to providing the most niggardly of refreshments to guests. Genoese society, I am persuaded, forgives my brother his half-English blood for this vagary.”
Cassie was grinning reluctantly when the earl turned to greet the newly arrived Signore Montalto, a paunchy, heavy-jowled gentleman of middle years.
“Marcello,” the earl said smoothly, “this is Signorina Brougham, the young lady I mentioned to you.”
“Enchanted, signorina,” Signore Montalto said, bowing with some difficulty.
Cassie inclined her head and bid him welcome. His almond eyes flitted an unasked question toward the earl. As Cassie’s attention was drawn by Caesare to Signore and Signora Accorambonis, she did not see it.
“How delightful to meet you, signorina,” Signora Accorambonis said in a pleasant voice. “We so rarely have new faces in Genoa. I do hope that you enjoy our city.”
“The pleasure is mine,” Cassie said ambiguously, knowing the earl was listening. She was aware that Signora Accorambonis was scrutinizing her from beneath her heavy eyelids, and stiffened for an instant. But she could not fault the lady, for she could well imagine how a foreign lady, living unmarried with an English gentleman, would be treated by the English aristocracy.
The wizened Signore Accorambonis was all complaisance. By the time all the guests had arrived and the earl and Cassie had made their welcomes, Cassie firmly on his arm, she was forced to admit that the earl seemed to have chosen his guests well.
She grinned crookedly at the earl when Scargill entered the brightly lit drawing room and announced dinner in the most formal voice she had ever heard from him.
The earl guided her firmly to the foot of the long table in the dining room and seated her himself. He gave her arm a slight squeeze before walking to the master’s place at the head of the table. She gazed down the expanse of table at him, but he merely smiled at her reassuringly. She stole a look at their guests, fourteen in all, and found to her amusement that the heavily laden table was the focus of their attention. Seated at her left was Caesare and to her right, a Signora Bianca Piasi, a young woman as vivacious as she was lovely.
“I see that you have decided to stay with us, signorina,” Signora Piasi said, her fork already in her hand, hovering over an abundant portion of braised pheasant.
Cassie could not understand how Signora Piasi saw anything of the sort, but she merely smiled and said lightly, “Everyone is very kind, signora.”