Winds of Nightsong. V. J. Banis

grandmother’s letter telling her about Adam’s disastrous reunion with his real mother, at which time it was decided that Adam would keep his identity as the new Lord Clarendon, and that his true origins would be kept secret unless he himself chose to reveal them.

      “And you have another brother, a few years younger than you.”

      “Marcus. He’s somewhere in Europe running around in racing machines, I understand.”

      “Racing machines? How thrilling. I must meet him one day.” She sipped her drink. “Your grandmother retired, I understand. Who’s running the cosmetics business?”

      “Uncle Leon, my mother’s brother—until grandmother decides she’s tired of doing nothing.”

      “Ah yes, Leon. I do recall now. His father was heir apparent to the Manchu throne until the republicans took over. You have royal blood then?”

      Caroline laughed softly. “Like my Uncle Leon. I do not like to think about it.”

      “And your mother?”

      “My mother is a different matter entirely. She’s quite proud of the fact that she’s a Chinese princess, and she expects all the privileges accorded to royalty. I’m afraid we don’t get along very well.”

      Alice emptied her glass. “Well, I’m off,” she said as she got up and put out her hand. “I hope to see you again, Caroline. I’m staying at the Amalfi. Call me for lunch. I expect to be in Venice for quite a while.”

      “I’ll do that, Alice. And thank you again for the shove back there,” Caroline said with a laugh.

      “If you like, I’ll walk you to your hotel just in case there are more pieces of loose masonry on somebody’s roof.”

      Caroline declined the offer with more thanks. She didn’t think the falling stone was anything but an accident. She put it completely out of her mind once she was back in her hotel room and sprawled across the bed for her afternoon nap. However, she couldn’t forget that had it not been for Alice Pendergast she might well be dead now.

      Being dead might not be so bad, she decided as she began thinking of Adam again. She closed her eyes and punched the pillow. She had to stop thinking of him.

      When Caroline opened her eyes again, it was six o’clock. Tonio would be calling for her at eight. Caroline stretched and got up from the bed to start getting dressed.

      Tonio was in the hotel lobby when she got off the lift. She thought that in some slight way he reminded her of Adam. Perhaps it was only a case of wishful thinking, though. Tonio was several years older and had neither Adam’s features nor complexion, but it was the way he smiled, the way his eyes moved, the motion of his body when he walked that made her think of Adam Clarendon.

      “You look ravishing, Caroline,” he said, taking her hand.

      Caroline had chosen a pale green dinner gown, fully flared in defiance of the hobble skirts that were so much a craze in America. Fashionable or not, she shunned them as she did everything else that didn’t suit her own tastes. An emerald necklace was draped around her bare throat, and small matching earrings dangled from her lobes. Emeralds were not really her favorite gems, but she knew they brought out the flashing green of her eyes.

      “Thank you, Tonio.” Her smile seemed to enchant him. “Where have you decided to take me to dinner?”

      “Vincente’s,” he said as he took her arm. He escorted her out of the hotel and into a waiting gondola. “It is a small place, but I think you will like it. It is very romantic.”

      “Everything in Venice is romantic,” she said. She let him put his arm around her shoulders and pull her against him as the gondolier poled his boat away from the landing steps.

      Vincente’s was a charming restaurant with dim candlelight and pink damask cloths. Their table was set in a little alcove that looked out over the Grand Canal. Caroline settled herself in the plush velvet-and-gilt chair and gazed out at the gondola lanterns making shimmering shadows on the surface of the water. Through the open windows the soft, lilting voices of the gondoliers’ songs drifted through the night air like lovers’ murmured sighs.

      “This is lovely, Tonio,” she said, aware that he was looking at her very seriously.

      “You are lovely, my dearest.”

      “You said you had something to ask me,” she ventured.

      “There is time. First we eat. You are hungry, yes?”

      “Starving.”

      “Good. I will order. I know the chef. You will not be disappointed.”

      She wasn’t. The food was superb. And by the time she’d finished the several courses, the wine, and the Cassata Napolitana, all she wanted to do was get out of her clothing and relish the feeling of being very stuffed.

      “I ate too much,” Caroline said, rubbing her middle.

      “That is good. I like a woman with flesh on her bones.”

      Caroline was feeling giddy from the wine and a bit reckless. “It’s supposed to curb the more sensual appetites, they say.”

      Tonio didn’t smile. He continued to look deep into her eyes. “I think it is time for me to ask what I have been wanting to ask you for several weeks now.”

      “And what is that?” She wanted to go to bed with him. She could blame it on the wine, but if she were to be truthful, she knew that she merely wanted the feel of his strong, young, masculine body, powerful and surging; wanted him to take her in his arms and drive himself deep inside her.

      “I would like very much, Caroline, if you would become my wife.”

      Caroline stared. She swallowed hard, unable to believe what she’d just heard. “Your wife?”

      “Are you surprised?”

      “To be honest, Tonio, yes I am. I’m very surprised.”

      “Surely you must know that I love you.”

      “But....”

      “I have never loved anyone as much as I love you, Caroline.”

      “But Tonio, we know nothing about one another.”

      “What is there to know? I know I love you, and I believe you care for me. You do, no?”

      Caroline floundered. “Yes, of course I care for you, Tonio, but.... Well, I never thought.... What I mean is, well, I never thought seriously about marrying anyone.”

      “Never?”

      Caroline was completely flustered. “Someday perhaps, but....”

      “You do not want to marry me?” he said, looking devastated.

      “Tonio,” she pleaded as she touched his hand. “You are a very nice man, an extremely nice man, and I am genuinely fond of you. But marriage? I just don’t—”

      “Don’t say no, Caroline,” he broke in, squeezing her hand. “Think about it. I see now that I was lax in not revealing my intentions sooner. I am not acquainted with American customs about such things. Forgive me if I have spoken clumsily.”

      “I do like you very much, Tonio,” Caroline admitted. She still wanted to go to bed with him, but she certainly didn’t want to marry him.

      “Then you will think about it?”

      Adam came back to her mind and she shrugged him away. Perhaps Tonio could remove Adam’s memory if she gave him the opportunity. “I promise you I will think about it,” she said.

      “Good. That is all I ask. Now,” he said, motioning for the check, “as long as you have promised to take me seriously I will do as the American men do and prove to you that I will make a good husband.”

      Caroline didn’t understand.

      “We