“Yes, thank you,” Christopher echoed in English.

CHAPTER 15

M orning dawned brightly sunny but with a winter chill that could

be detected even through the walls of the house. Christopher and

Katerina ate a quick breakfast of hot sweet rolls and powerful coffee before meeting Alessandro in the parlor of his spacious manor.

It was a gorgeous room, boasting delicate blue walls and several floor-to-ceiling windows decorated with ornately cream-colored wood frames and

moldings. The wood floor was covered with a mostly-red rug accented in a blue

that complemented the walls.

Cream and dark wood furniture stood in several seating areas, and in the open space between the furnishings, a small crowd of people in uniforms stood

stiffly at attention.

Alessandro rose from one of the dark armchairs at their approach.

“Everyone,” he boomed in a hearty, carrying voice, “my long-lost granddaughter

and her husband have finally come home. May I present Katerina and

Christopher Bennett!”

The staff applauded, their eyes curious and happy. One particularly round

barrel of a woman approached Katerina, chattering rapidly in Italian. She kissed

her on both cheeks and lumbered away, wiping her eyes with a plump hand.

“Who on earth was that?” Christopher asked.

“Oh, she's the cook,” Alessandro replied, eyes alight with laughter. “She

knew my daughter growing up. They were… friendly, I suppose.

“She thought I was too skinny and is currently planning to cook something

decadent to fatten me up.” Katerina grinned. “She might just succeed.”

“Do you think you might share?” Christopher asked, regarding her with

teasing silver eyes.

“It depends,” she teased him back.

“All right you two,” Alessandro growled, “don't shock my servants.” He

dismissed the staff with a word and led the couple on a tour of the house. On the

first floor, they left the spacious parlor, passed the dining room and peeked into

Alessandro's study, housed in a cavernous library with books stacked floor to ceiling on oiled wooden shelves.

Next, they arrived in the kitchen. The ceiling of rough-hewn and weathered

gray boards drew the eye upward, where shimmering copper pans dangled. The

size of the space caused Katerina to draw in a deep breath, filling herself with the aroma of garlic and olive oil. The cook grinned at them and handed them each a pastry. The sweet treat made Katerina's eyes roll back in her head. It won't be hard to gain weight in this place.

Last, they explored the music room. Compared to the tiny space in the

Bennetts' London townhouse, it was huge. It contained a beautifully carved pianoforte and a harpsichord along with various other instruments displayed on

tables and hung on the wall. In particular, a small instrument that resembled a guitar snared Katerina's eye. Clearly Spanish in origin, it bore ornate decorations

in inlaid wood. She looked at it for a moment before being drawn by the magnetic pull of the pianoforte.

Sliding onto the bench she played a series of lightning-fast scales and smiled.

Lovely tone. Then, her fingers itching to play, she added a spritely Chopin melody.

“Very nice,” Alessandro told her when she finished, “you're quite

accomplished.”

“Thank you, Nonno. I love music.” She switched to Handel and played the

slow opening chords of “I Know that My Redeemer Liveth.” Then she sang.

Christopher remembered her telling him she could sing rather well, and he had teased her about opera, but after their rapid and traumatic wedding, he had forgotten the conversation. Truly she is no operatic soprano, he realized. She's better.

Katerina's voice, delicate and soft, rang like chimes. She hit each note with

pinpoint precision, and her clever fingers never faltered on the keyboard. Just as

she climbed the scale to a high note, which she touched with the lightness of a

butterfly's wing, her impromptu concert was interrupted.

“Brava,” a strange woman said, her voice slightly unpleasant as she eyed the