Wicked (33 page)

"What gown?" Beau sardonically murmured.

"Precisely. How pleasant that these naked Grecian styles are in fashion while I'm still young enough to take advantage of them. And just to make it interestin
g
—
a
small wager? Will these breasts overcome that sweet innocence?"

"It's only a question of time, darling," Beau drawled, knowing General Mack's tastes. "I'll put a monkey on
thirty seconds."
¹²

"I'll have him netted in twenty and then you owe me a night of special entertainment."

He hesitated, understanding her interpretation of the word "special."

"Not necessarily this visit, darling, any time," she offered, her talent for understanding men her greatest accomplishmen
t
.

"Done."

And when Beau escorted the Countess Niollo out onto the dance floor, they hadn't waltzed for more than a few bars before intercepting the general and Serena and bringing them to a halt.

"Karl, darling," the countess exclaimed in breathy accents, "you simply must dance with me. Don't you remember we danced to this song in Vienna last summer." Inhaling with a captivating buoyancy as if recalling the great fun they'd had, brought her splendid breasts in imminent danger of spilling out of her bodice, their ripe weight straining against the sheer, flimsy muslin of her gown.

The general was mesmerized; he had the look of a trencherman offered a bounteous banquet.

"Don't you just adore Vienna in the summer?" Francesca murmured. "All that sultry heat and whipped cream on all the iced drinks . . ."

"I particularly like the whipped cream," Beau acknowledged when it appeared the general was una
b
le to speak.

"Kar
l
and I went up into the mountains one day, didn't we, Karl," the countess reminded him, sliding her fingertip over the gold braid on his tunic collar. "It was so cool and refreshing. We swam. Do you remember, darling?" she went on, knowing he'd not forgotten their wanton play. The countess took the general's hand. "If you don't mind, Lord Rochefort, I'd dearly like to have Karl to myself."

"She's practically undressed," Serena said, watching the couple dance away. "And you put her up to this I suppose."

"They're old friends," Beau noncommittally replied.

"I could tell. All those allusions to heat and whipped cream weren't very subtle."

"Karl isn't a very subtle person, unfortunately. But he dances well, as does everyone at the Hapsburg court. Did you enjoy yourself?"

"You needn't be so smug about your little scheme. I was considering exposing my bosom and making poor Karl choose."

"First I wouldn't have allowed it and second," Beau said, grinning, his gaze straying to her luscious breasts mounded above her fashionable lace-trimmed décolletage
,
"decisions always overwhelm General Mack, as anyone familiar with his command of the Neapolitan army will tell you."

She smiled. "So I must content myself with you."

"I'll see what I can do to keep you amused." His gaze quickly surveyed the reception room, her tempting breasts bringing to mind more interesting uses of his time than playing the gentleman at court. "Do you want to stay or go?"

"Will anyone notice if we leave?"

"Not if we stroll out onto the terrace first."

Discreetly making their escape, they walked hand in hand back to the Palazzo Palagonia through the Rea
l
e gardens, a sliver of moon lighting their way.

"Forgive me if I spoiled your evening," he mockingly drawled, swinging her hand, "but you wouldn't have liked Karl anyway. His sexual repertoire's without finesse."

She glanced up at his profile and saw his smile flash in the semidarkness. "So you saved me from a dull evening of uneventful intercourse."

"More or less."

"But then I never intended to bed him anyway," Serena sweetly said.

"Really." His voice was mild.

"You must be thinking of the other women you know."

"Really," he repeated, a hint of astonishment flavoring the word.

"The general was very pretty but too empty-headed, darling. And he kept calling me Miss Blight. You've quite spoiled me, Rochefort," she playfully murmured, "for other men."

"Really," he said once more, this time so softly she didn't hear. And for a man who considered sexual congress as a benign form of social intercourse, strangely, her words warmed his heart.

******************

The
Siren
left port very early the next morning in the event Serena might change her mind about the general. But if asked, Beau would have said it was necessary to lift anchor that early in order to catch the tide.

On March 5, the same day the
Siren
sailed for Leghorn, Bonaparte at last disclosed his plans to his generals. General Massena, the commander-in-chief of the Army of Italy, received the following directive:

I am collecting a Reserve Army at Dijon, which I shall command in person. In eight or ten days I shall send you one of my ADC's with the plan of operations for the coming campaign, when you will see that your role will be important and within the means at your disposal. During March and April, if I were in your place, I should have four-fifths of my force, say 40,000, in Genoa. Then I should have no fear of the enemy capturing Genoa. The months of May and June are another matter, but by that time we shall have started our campaign and the instructions which I send you in ten days will serve as a guide.... Finally, I repeat, I feel you are in a strong position. Make the most of it. In the positions we hold, we cannot be beaten if we really want to win. Remember our great days! Fall on the enemy with all your force as soon as he makes a move.

The French invasion plan of Italy was en train.

On their voyage to Leghorn, Serena felt as though time were precious. She found herself gazing at Beau with a more discerning regard, wanting to remember exactly how he looked as he stood or walked or lay, how he smiled, how his strong hands gripped the wheel of the
Siren
with the same grace as when they moved over her body, how he gazed at her with affection, with passion. She needed the memories to sustain her in the wilderness of her coming solitude.

She'd touch him at odd times to comfort herself and he'd glance at her and smile and her heart would ache with sadness. Too soon . .. too soo
n
—
h
e'd be gone from her life.

And when the busy port finally came into sight on the second day, she was overwhelmed with despair.

Could she speak politely at the end when he took his leave? Could she be civil and dispassionate as expected, as required of a discarded lover? Could she behave with obliging good grace?

The sight of Leghorn occasioned unusual emotions in Beau as well, his feelings curiously discontent, restless, without clear motive or explanation, novel sensations for a man who always bid farewell to his lovers with relief He'd really miss Serena, he reflected, mildly surprise
d
—
a
nd not just her lush, wanton body. In minutes he'd be leaving her, a not altogether satisfying thought until sudden inspiration struck hi
m
—
m
otives of personal gratification suggesting a reexamination of his options. "Would you like me to ride with you
t
o Florence?" he asked, wondering even as he spoke if he might still be drunk from last night, his conduct so out of character.

"Oh, yes," Serena answered, her gloomy world suddenly taking on a golden glow. "I'd like that very much."

"Good," Beau succinctly said, gratifie
d
—-no, exhilarated, a sensation he didn't question beyond its carnal implications, his mind already contemplating the nearest inn with a large bed.

******************

The sixty-mile journey to Florence took several days, the country inns so much more tempting than the carriage and dusty road, making love so much more tantalizing than saying good-bye. Neither was quite reconciled to ending their agreeable liaison.

But eventually, even at their laggard, sybaritic pace, they arrived in Florence and on reaching the Castellis' address discovered that Serena's hosts were away in Rome for two months. The neighbor was sympathetic but without the means of ingress to their apartment. She was very sorry . . . perhaps the landlord could be persuaded to allow Serena entrance, but he too was in Pisa at the moment visiting his daughter.

"They weren't expecting me until July," Serena said with a sigh, gazing up at the shuttered windows, her thoughts sober as she contemplated the next months alone in a strange city. But even more lamentable than loneliness, without the Castellis' she was denied access to the ateliers and workshops where she wished to study.

"We'll have to find you lodgings," Beau briskly said. "Which side of the Arno would you prefer?"

"At least I can afford lodgings," Serena declared, smiling faintly, Beau's energetic reaction bolstering her despondent mood. "Thanks to you."

"N
o
—
t
hanks to your skill. And I'd suggest the north sid
e
—-you'll be closer to everything." Taking her hand, he gave it a squeeze of encouragement. "I'll tell the driver to wait for us at the Piazza de
ll
a Signoria while we look for an apartment." The hired carriage, piled high with luggage, almost completely blocked the narrow street. "And I was thi
n
king maybe I'd stay a few days more until you're settled."

"Would you?" Serena breathlessly replied and then realizing how gauche her response to a man overfamiliar with clinging women, she more circumspectly added, "Although I'm afraid I'd be taking terrible advantage of you."

"Let's not consider who's taking advantage of whom or I might be forced to recognize I have a conscience," he said, smiling. "As for my staying, I'd enjoy it." Glancing down the cobbled street, he surveyed the buildings crowding out the sun. "Now tell me what you think you can afford?" he added, careful after their argument over the dresses to be more heedful of her finances.

******************

Three hours later, after climbing countless stairs and navigating their way through residential blocks and narrow byways, they stood in the salon of a sunny apartment facing the Arno, a stupendous view of the goldsmiths' bridge to their left, the afternoon sun glinting off the gently flowing river below, the green hills on the horizon framing the picturesque scene perfectly as if arranged for their delight.

"I can't believe this apartment is so reasonable," Serena happily said, twirling away from the windows to survey her new home. "After all the other much smaller ones we looked at."

"I think the landlady liked yo
u
—
o
r liked having an English lady in her building." Beau stood behind her, pleased that she was pleased, the money he'd given to the landlady overcoming her disinclination to rent the apartment for only two months. "Why don't I pay you for the entire year," he'd said as Serena was investigating the small kitchen in the back. "Would that be helpful?"