Roman Sunset - Merry Farmer Page 0,5

enjoyed the compliment. “You’re always so kind to me.”

“A beauty like you is easy to be kind to.” Antonio leaned closer to her. “I wish you would allow me to be kinder to you still.”

Violetta giggled and shied away from him. There was nothing inherently wrong with Antonio. He was still in his prime and she suspected he was fit and trim under his ridiculous costume. It wasn’t his physical appearance that put her off so much as the way he had pursued her relentlessly and clumsily since first joining the troupe two months before.

“Now, Antonio,” she said, standing. “You know that I make it a policy not to dally with fellow members of the company.” It was a bit of a lie. She’d had an interesting fling with the actor Antonio had been hired to replace. Hector had shown her a very good time indeed before being hired as an understudy at the Teatro dell'Opera di Roma. But Antonio didn’t need to know that.

“If it would make you see me as a lover, I would tear off this costume and throw it into the fire right now,” Antonio said with a dramatic flourish. “You are the sun and the moon to me. You are the ideal of beauty. You make Venus herself jealous.”

Violetta laughed and pushed Antonio away. “You are too kind, sir.” The wariness that gripped her gut tightened. She pretended to find Antonio nothing but amusing and turned away from him to check her make-up in the mirror once more. “Who knows what the future will hold?”

“I know,” he said, leaning in and resting a hand on Violetta’s backside for a moment. He squeezed—thankfully, she barely felt it, thanks to the layers of her costume—then walked off, whistling to himself.

“It shocks me the way he ogles you,” Maria whispered. She glanced over her shoulder at Antonio’s retreating form, then looked at Violetta in the mirror. “I’m anxious for you.”

Violetta laughed as though she hadn’t a care in the world, though she was just as wary as Maria was. “Antonio is harmless. Actors are all shameless flirts. I can take care of myself.” More than Maria could ever guess. Her Majesty’s Secret Service had trained her in far more than just deciphering documents and sending coded messages. She could defend herself physically far better than poor Antonio would ever guess.

“Still.” Maria lowered her voice even more. “He obviously has wicked intentions toward you. I would be afraid to walk home alone in the dark if I knew a man wanted me the way Antonio wants you.”

“I might not have to walk home alone in the dark any time soon,” Violetta said, returning to her gossipy persona.

Maria took the bait, lighting up. “Do tell.” She twisted on her stool to gaze adoringly up at Violetta.

“I met a charming English lord last night.” Violetta grinned from ear to ear. Her grin was genuine, as was her need to tell someone all about Lord Landry. “He’s the handsomest devil I’ve seen in a long time.”

“What does he look like?” Maria asked, clasping her hands to her chest, eyes wide.

“He’s tall,” Violetta said with an overdone sigh. She told herself that her mooning was all part of the act, but it seemed perfectly right, given the circumstances. “He has dark hair and even darker eyes. He’s about as well-formed as a woman could ask for, with broad shoulders and strong arms.”

Maria’s eyes went wide at the description. Or perhaps at something she saw behind Violetta.

Either way, Violetta went on. “He’s the sort of man you hope will steal into your bed in the deep of night to—”

“I hope to God you plan to finish that sentence the way I want it to end.”

Violetta gasped and whipped around to find none other than Lord Landry standing right behind her. Maria had seen something after all.

“Lord Landry,” Violetta squeaked. She told herself that her breathlessness and the heat that flooded her face were from surprise and nothing more. “What brings you here?”

“Call me Thomas, please,” he said with a rakish grin. Though there was a certain amount of tension in that grin. He darted a look to Maria before glancing quickly around. “After all, we have so many mutual acquaintances that we’re like old friends, are we not?”

Violetta’s heart raced for a whole different set of reasons. Lord Landry—Thomas—had figured things out, or so it appeared. But Violetta could tell in an instant he wasn’t particularly skilled in the art of subterfuge. “Of course,