An Italian Count for Christmas (London Lords Book 1) Read online

  “Come on, only a few more steps and we shall have this monstrous beast across the threshold,” she said.

  She had just put her hands under the travel trunk, ready to lift it a third time when Nico suddenly appeared at her shoulder.

  “What the devil are you doing young woman?” he asked.

  “Bringing your trunk inside,” she replied flatly.

  He waved his hands in the air and the women stepped away from the trunk. He snorted a loud huff of disgust and turned to Ann.

  “Where are your man servants and footmen madam? Since when did housemaids and ladies have to carry heavy luggage? This won’t do,” he said.

  Ann came around to where Isabelle stood.

  “Our servants are on route from our country estate, we were not expecting you until tomorrow, my apologies. My lord, we are trying to manage as best we can,” she replied.

  Isabelle took personal satisfaction on seeing the uncomfortable look which appeared on the Nico’s face.

  Rude pompous swine.

  “I see. Well since there is nothing to be done about your absent servants I suggest that the two of you take the other end of the trunk together. I shall take this end and we will see how we go. Just remember to let me know if you need to set it down if it becomes too heavy a burden,” he said.

  With the women at one end and Nico at the other the task of lifting the trunk became much easier. They soon lifted it up the front steps and into the house.

  As they went to set the trunk down in the hallway, their shortly lived good fortune failed them. Isabelle’s sweaty hands lost their grip and the edge of the trunk landed heavily on Nico’s foot.

  “Oh! Porca miseria!” he cried, as he danced about the front entrance of the house in pain.

  Isabelle didn’t understand what he was saying, but she had an inkling it would not translate well into English.

  Ann rushed to the front door and closed it behind her. Isabelle caught a snippet of her muttering something about the neighbors and what they would think.

  For herself she had given up caring what other people said about the goings on at number seventy- four. And as for bad tempered Count de Luca, she couldn’t help but think that he had got exactly what he deserved.

  “I am so sorry your excellency. I didn’t mean to drop it that quickly,” said Isabelle, masking her true feelings.

  The morning was quickly turning from bad to worse.

  “I can get a cold compress for your foot if you wish,” she offered.

  Nico waved her offer away.

  “No, my foot is fine. Just a little pain, nothing feels broken. Not yet anyway,” he snapped.

  Ann headed toward the stairs which led down into the lower kitchen.

  “Excuse me while I leave the two of you to get acquainted. I must check on the cook and that cup of tea,” she said.

  As Ann departed Isabelle removed her apron and wiped her hands on it. She caught the odd look on Nico’s face and smiled.

  “No, my mother in law is not mad, she didn’t leave you to socialize with the house maid. I am Isabelle Collins, your tenant. You caught us in the middle of tidying up in preparation for your arrival. You are early, hence the lack of a formal welcome,” she said.

  She curtseyed elegantly to him reflecting her own well-bred status. She was surprised to be rewarded with a warm smile when she caught his gaze once more. Deep brown eyes greeted her. Eyes that sparkled when he smiled.

  Nico bowed low in return.

  “Count Nico de Luca, at your service Mrs. Collins. My sincere apologies for my early arrival and any inconvenience it may cause. My ship made good time coming up the coast of Portugal and we arrived a day or so early in London. It was thoughtless of me to arrive at such short notice and make demands of your household. I am tired but as a gentleman that does not excuse my rude behavior,” he replied.

  Isabelle looked at him, lost for words. She had not had much to do with society since the death of her husband and couldn’t remember the last time a gentleman had visited the house. She suddenly felt sheepish at her own unkind thoughts of the count.

  Count de Luca was not how she had imagined him. He was a lot younger for a start, perhaps only a few years older than herself. Handsome was the next word which came to mind. Devilishly handsome.

  She studied him for a moment. There was something about his appearance that had her wondering as to his family background. He was taller than other European gentleman she had met in her life. He towered over her, his physical presence dominating the space between them. A space that was heating up by the second.

  His jet-black hair and dark brown eyes reminded her of a Titian painting she had once seen while attending a ball at the home of the Earl of Harrington. There was a warmth about him that even his ill temper could not hide.

  And that sensual accent. It was Italian, but his English was flawless. When he cleared his throat. Isabelle felt a rush of heat to her cheeks. She had been silently staring at her guest.

  “Not quite the continental gentleman you had been expecting?” he asked.

  Mortified, she died a little more inside. She could only hope that he hadn’t taken offence at her staring at him.

  “I went to school here in England for several years; and my mother was English if that helps to clear up any confusion. I am told I look more English than Roman, but my father says I have the heart of a Roman and that is what truly matters,” he added.

  Isabelle stifled an ‘Oh’. She had been about to comment on his excellent command of the English language. At least he had saved her from making that embarrassing faux pas.

  “So, you do have a cook? Or is the other Mrs. Collins downstairs trying to light the fire and boil the water herself?” he asked.

  Isabelle would have taken offence at his remark had she not seen the grin which appeared on Nico’s lips. He was teasing her.

  “We have a cook my lord,” she replied.

  He nodded. “Molto bene. But since this is your home Isabella, please call me Nico. I should like to think that once we have overcome the awkward introductions we will be friends. I must thank you for making the generous offer to host me while I am in London. I was not looking forward to spending Christmas by myself in a hotel. I promise after this false start I shall not be a burden.”

  Isabelle stood listening to his words, letting the curl of his Italian accent caress her. She had always had a soft spot for men with a foreign accent. She particularly liked the way that Nico called her Isabella, with the soft bella on the end. She had no intention whatsoever in correcting his pronunciation of her name.

  Ann returned, to Isabelle’s disappointment. She was enjoying her private moment with their handsome guest.

  “Your tea will be ready shortly my lord. If you like I could show you to your room where you could freshen up,” offered Ann.

  “Thank you Mrs. Collins I would like to find a place for my coat and things,” he replied.

  After showing Nico to his room, Ann returned a few minutes later and took Isabelle aside. “Well this is going to be an interesting Christmas. He wants us to call him Nico. He is not at all what I was expecting. For a start he couldn’t be much older than thirty, and he is rather dashing. I swear from the moment he stepped across the threshold I was ready to fall into his magnificent brown eyes. And he hasn’t yet made mention of a wife or family. I’m beginning to wonder if our count is a bachelor.”

  Isabelle raised an eyebrow at her mother in law. Ann had been alone with Nico for all of five minutes and yet he was already their count. She didn’t need to ask why Ann was so interested in Nico’s marital status. An unmarried Italian nobleman was the stuff of every widow’s dreams.

  She shook her head. If she didn’t take charge, Ann would be making arrangements for Isabelle to become the Contessa de Luca before the year was out.

  “I expect his wife did not want to come all the way to England for Christmas and is staying at home in Rome with their brood of beautiful sable- haired children,” she replied.

  Ann began to hum softly to herself.

  Isabelle stood and stared at her. Ann only hummed like that when she was up to something.

  “What?”

  A soft smile appeared on Ann’s lips and she reached out and patted Isabelle gently on the arm.

  “You know I love you as my own daughter. So, when the count mentioned that he was looking for someone who could show him around London to help reacquaint himself with the city. I well…,” said Ann.

  “You didn’t.”

  “I did. I offered him your services.”

  Isabelle sighed. Ann was already one step ahead of her.

  Chapter Four

  Nico wandered around his bedroom for a minute or so after Ann left. He sat on the bed and spread his arms wide. The empty vase which stood on the nearby dresser caught his eye. Why the English were afraid of color was something that he had never understood. He would venture out in the morning and buy some fresh flowers to brighten the room.

  His feet touched the floor. It was good to finally be back on dry land. It would take a day or so for his brain to register the fact that he was no longer at sea and for his feet to stop mimicking the rolling motion of the ship.

  His cabin on board the ship had been well appointed and by ship’s standards spacious. Being the owner of the ship did have its benefits.

  A soft tap on the bedroom door roused him from his musings. Clambering off the bed he opened the door.

  Isabelle entered carrying a small tray.

  “Your tea and a piece of Mrs. Brown’s Madeira cake. If there is anything else you would like, please let me know and we shall endeavor to bring it to you,” she said.

  She set the tray down on the bedside table, then turned to face him with hands clasped
in front of her.

  “I must apologize for my state of attire when you arrived earlier. It was entirely my fault that you thought I was a maid. And may I also apologize once more for your foot. If you need a doctor, I can summon one for you,” she said.

  In the light from the nearby window, Nico got his first real look at Isabelle. With the apron gone, he could see her slender waist to advantage. Her breasts though constrained by her gown, still showed themselves to be ample. He was a man with a keen eye for a woman’s breasts. The widow Collins was pleasingly well endowed.

  A primal reaction to her stirred in his body. His mouth went dry as he watched her studying him.

  He delighted in the thought that her gaze was not innocent. Whether she realized it or not, she was slowly stripping him naked with her deep green eyes. His breathing grew shorter as he felt revealed to her.

  He swallowed deep as his gaze took in the rose color of her mouth. A mouth that begged a man to nibble and taste of its sweet lips. Lips he was certain were in need of a thorough kissing.

  He caught himself before his imagination could indulge in the fantasy of what Isabelle would look like naked and laying beneath him.

  “My foot is fine, thank you Isabella. I shall take a short stroll later to check that it is still in one piece.”

  She blushed. Nico struggled to hold back a sexual response to the heat on her cheeks.

  Get a hold of yourself. You have been in this woman’s home all of five minutes and you are already having lascivious thoughts of her. What happened to your vow of being done with women. Done with love.

  She was his tenant. A respectable widow from what Prescott had told him in his letter. His thoughts of what he would like to do to her were however far from respectable.

  A hotel might be a better option.

  “My mother in law tells me that I am to accompany you around London as your guide. I trust that meets with your agreement. If not, I could find a gentleman to do the task,” she said.

  Disappointment stirred in his heart. Isabelle Collins was a far more enticing prospect for showing him the sights of dreary London than a man. A man would want to show him his club or his horses. A woman would be open to art galleries and music. And shopping.

  Nico was a lover of many things. Music and dance called to his Italian soul but being in London he itched to work his way through the array of shops on Oxford Street. Women were always a delight to take shopping. Alessandra had been appreciative of his talents when it came to buying her lavish gifts. Talents she rewarded with allowing Nico to unwrap her gown once he accompanied her home at end of their shopping trips.

  His mind was already wondering how many shopping trips it would take before he could entice the widow Collins to unwrap herself for him.

  “No, I am happy for you to show me the sights. Mrs. Collins tells me you are a native of London and know all the right places to visit. It has been many years since I lived in England, so having a local guide will be invaluable. I promise not to take up too much of your time,” he replied.

  He had not been all that too concerned when Ann Collins first offered for Isabelle to accompany him around London, a guide was a means to an end. But having now seen her up close and gained an appreciation of her fresh beauty, Nico wanted to have her by his side.

  “Well then we have an accord. When do you wish for us to undertake our first outing?” she asked.

  “Tomorrow?” he ventured. The sooner he got more acquainted with her the better.

  “Tomorrow it is, please enjoy your tea before it gets cold. If you need anything for the rest of today, you may wish to come downstairs. Unfortunately, your travel trunk will have to reside downstairs until tomorrow when the rest of the servants arrive,” said Isabelle.

  She left Nico alone with his rapidly cooling tea and spongy cake. He crossed the floor to where the bag with his personal papers was sitting. The tall wooden box had been placed safely against the wall.

  “I need light,” he muttered.

  Spotting a small table in the corner, he carried it over to the window where he set it down. Retrieving his satchel of papers, he emptied its contents onto the table.

  Within a short time, he had his papers in ordered piles on the desk. His paper and ink were set out just the way he liked them. After placing a chair under the table, he stood back and surveyed his work.

  “Molto bene,” he said.

  Everything was ready and in its place. He could sit at his desk and observe the English rain while working on his business letters. Sightseeing in London had been a secondary priority before his arrival but having now met his tempting travel guide he felt a sudden urgency to play tourist.

  “So much for giving up on women,” he chuckled.

  His resolve to harden his heart against the prospect of love had lasted less than a day.

  Chapter Five

  “What a lovely gown my dear Isabelle. Is it new?”

  Isabelle stopped mid frown when she saw Nico rise from his chair in the downstairs sitting room the following morning. He gave her an elegant bow, which had heat racing to her cheeks.

  “You look stunning,” he said.

  If he had not been present she would have reminded Ann that the gown was at least three seasons old, which she well knew.

  The happy smile on Ann’s face explained the reason for her comment. Isabelle was not dressed in black and she was about to spend a day out on the town with a gentleman. A rich handsome Italian gentleman.

  “Thank you. I wasn’t sure about the gown, but the dressmaker convinced me to buy it,” she replied, adding another white lie to the growing list.

  Isabelle was dressed in a pale purple gown with grey and white stripes down the skirt. Anthony had bought it for her during one of his rare runs of luck with the cards. She didn’t particularly like it, but the gown was warm.

  It was early December and the weather had already turned to winter. On her daily walk to the market Isabelle had seen people venturing out onto the frozen sections of the River Thames to ice skate.

  “Are you sure you won’t join us today Mrs. Collins? The carriage I have hired has plenty of room, you would be most welcome,” said Nico.

  Ann shook her head.

  “The staff began arriving early this morning and I want to be home to ensure that they get settled back into their routines as soon as possible. Our butler will act as your valet during your stay,” she replied.

  The glint in Ann’s eyes at the thought of having a household of servants again brought joy to Isabelle’s heart. She knew that within minutes of her and Nico’s departure that Ann would be marshalling the household staff and making sure they understood their duties. She couldn’t begrudge Ann her amusement. The day after Nico departed, the servants would be gone and the Collins women would go back to their quiet life of cleaning and dusting.

  The weight of expectation of her securing a new favorable marriage in the coming year sat heavily on her shoulders.

  She looked once more at Nico, and Isabelle’s eyes lit up.

  He was like something out of a renaissance painting. His pale brown skin no longer held the tired look of one who had been on a long journey. His eyes sparkled in the morning light, reflecting warmth and charm.

  “I trust you slept well last night my lord,” she asked.

  Oh, my you are lovely. How your wife could have ever let you travel alone to England is beyond me.

  “I did thank you. The bed was a great relief from the constant rolling of the ship. But please call me Nico,” he replied.

  Ann rose from her seat and took hold of Isabelle’s arm.

  “I was just telling Nico about all the places you wanted to show him. Floris perfumery was first on your list of shops was it not my dear?”

  Isabelle kept her gaze firmly on Nico, but silently nodded. She had actually planned a trip to Hyde Park and around Buckingham Palace, but she was too lost in staring at the magnificent man who stood before her to bother correcting Ann.

  “Ah so you think I need to update my cologne, do you?” asked Nico.

  Isabelle shook herself awake from her pleasant day dream.

  “Yes. I mean no. I.”

  He chuckled at her obvious embarrassment. The deep tone of his laughter filled her heart with unexpected joy. She couldn’t recall the last time anyone had genuinely laughed in the house.