stared into the same blue eyes of his sibling. The two bore a superficial resemblance to each other in height and their black hair. Both were taller than their father. His throat tightened in fresh pain.
“Papà died early this morning,” he spoke quietly. Vittorio could still visualize the scene at the palazzo a little while ago.
Dr. Farini, the longtime physician of the family, had examined their father before sliding the sheet over his face. Count Mario Goretti Della Scalla, beloved husband, father, brother, friend and CEO of the Della Scalla Shipping and Passenger Line Company, was officially dead.
The doctor had stared into Vittorio’s eyes. “You are now Count Della Scalla. Your father has been blessed to have a son like you ready and able to step into his shoes.”
There was another son Vittorio felt should be taking his place, but that wasn’t possible. Soon the news would be out. The bells would toll throughout Venice for the loss.
“How did he die, Vittorio?”
“Dr. Farini said it was a heart attack. It happened quickly, the only blessing I can see.”
Gaspare’s eyes glistened with unshed tears. “He was too young.”
“No one expected it.”
A deep sigh of pain escaped. “How are Mamma and Maria?”
“I’m sure you can imagine.”
He bowed his head. “They worshipped him.”
“We all did,” Vittorio whispered. “I left a message with Uncle Bertoldo’s maid. He and Aunt Miah are due back from Rome before the day is out. The doctor is with the family and will stay until you and I arrive. Being with you will help all of us get through this.”
His brother stood stock-still, but Vittorio saw the mask of sorrow that had already settled. “Wait here for me. I have to talk to the abbot and gather a few things. I’ll be back in a few minutes.”
While Vittorio waited, Gaspare walked back to the visitors and said something to them before he left through a side door. The action reminded him that Signora Lawrence would be coming to the monastery before long seeking out his brother. The image of her had been constantly in his thoughts.
Vittorio had determined that the woman who’d caught his interest last night had been maybe twenty-four, twenty-five, dressed in a summery blue and white print suit. As he’d moved closer to the dinner table, he’d been stunned by her beauty. She’d possessed such exquisite features, he hadn’t been able to look anywhere else.
Her glossy short black hair of soft natural curls made his breath catch. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen an hourglass figure like hers. Luminous gray eyes fused with his.
Vittorio had felt her appraise him with unexpected candor before she got up from the table with the others. In his opinion the gorgeous creature looked too young to be a professor, yet she’d been with a team of experts on Lord Byron. It was for this group he’d arranged the dinner on board one of the Della Scalla passenger liners.
Vittorio had instructed the captain of the Sirena to make a special stop in Ravenna. He’d done it as a special favor for Gaspare, whose birthday would be celebrated in a few days, an early present. His brother had been longtime friends with Dr. Manukyan, who was from Yerevan State University in Armenia and had been visiting Ravenna.
But when Vittorio had made the arrangements, little did he know there’d be a woman like Signora Lawrence attached to this group. Had he realized, he could have flown there earlier to eat dinner with them and get to know her better.
He was still thinking about her when he heard Gaspare’s voice. “I’m ready.”
His head swung around. “I didn’t see you come back in.”
Gaspare stood there carrying a suitcase. “I’m not surprised. None of us could imagine this day arriving this soon in our lives.”
Shocked to have been caught distracted while their father’s death was on their minds, he headed for the doorway to the museum. Gaspare caught up to him, and they left the monastery for the boat.
There were many things to discuss, not the least of which was the planning of the funeral. No one had expected their father to die for at least twenty more years.
But even with so many weighty matters to consider, including the running of the company, Vittorio had a difficult time putting the enticing American woman out of his mind. How incredible was it that she’d planned to come to the monastery today and he would miss her by only a few hours!
The fact that he might never see her again shouldn’t matter to him, but it did... He couldn’t understand it.
Vittorio had enjoyed several intimate relationships with women in his adult life. They’d been important to him, but he hadn’t fallen in love with one of them to the point that he wanted to be married.
Maybe it was the burden of the family name and title, plus all the expectations that came with it, that had prevented him from wanting to settle down yet. Growing his side business had taken up any free time Vittorio had away from the company.
If an affair of the heart was going to happen, Vittorio hadn’t felt it.
Until last night...
Just looking at her had caused something to come over Vittorio—an indescribable feeling that had pulled at all his senses and more. Vittorio had been so drawn to Signora Lawrence, he’d invited the whole group of scholars assembled to ride to their hotel with him in the hope of talking to her for a while longer. But it had increased his guilt over Paola, who still thought he would marry her. How was he going to let her down gently?
* * *
Once he and Gaspare reached the jetty, they climbed on the boat and Vittorio headed toward the bell towers of San Marco and San Giorgio Maggiore in the distance. As the island receded behind them, his mind was still on a certain gorgeous woman who would be arriving there soon.
But before long they reached the palazzo, where their devastated family was waiting for them to arrive. Once again Vittorio felt the dark cloud of sorrow descend, knowing their father was gone and he was now the head of the family. He felt the heavy weight because already the family looked to him for everything.
THE NEXT DAY nothing went the way Ginger had planned. First of all, when she arrived in Venice and went to the monastery, she discovered that Father Giovanni, the resident authority on Byron, had been called away for the better part of a week.
One of the other monks showed her around, but he didn’t have the information to certain questions only an expert could answer. Disappointment swept through her before she took a water bus back to Venice. By five in the afternoon she met Zoe’s plane.
Ginger was thrilled to see her friend. They ate dinner and headed for the train station, excited to meet up with Abby and enjoy their month in Switzerland. But another disappointment awaited all of them the next day when they arrived in Switzerland and found out the vineyard where they’d be vacationing had been sold.
Magda’s friend had died.
Though they could stay on while the caretakers ran the place, the girls decided they would prefer to go somewhere else and not be a burden. They were planning to travel to Europe together to make the most of their last few weeks. Then came another shock—Abby had met an attractive French relative of the previous owner staying at the vineyard, and he invited her to travel to Burgundy with him.
The invitation had included Ginger and Zoe, but they didn’t want to intrude if something of a romantic nature was happening to their friend. Instead they agreed to go back to Italy and Greece, where they could spend a week in each place.
After taking the morning to