Dickce returned with the requested glass of water and brought it to their guest. “Grazie, signorina.” He accepted it and drank half of it. “That hit the spot, as you say.”
“My pleasure.” Dickce sank onto the sofa by An’gel.
“What a terrible thing to happen,” Antonio said, his expression grave, as he returned to the subject of his conversation with An’gel. “A most unfortunate accident. I must express my sympathies to Wade and, of course, to Rosabella.”
“I regret to have to tell you that it was not an accident,” An’gel said. “Someone arranged it to look like an accident, but it was not.”
“Antonio, what are you doing here?”
Startled, An’gel turned to see Juanita advancing into the room. She did not appear happy to see her grandmother’s husband.
Antonio stood and set his glass on the table beside his chair. He moved forward to greet Juanita, both hands extended. “Bellissima, I have just been told the terrible news. Here I come to find my lovely wife, and instead it is tragedy I find.”
Juanita stopped in her tracks and folded her arms across her chest. She glared at Antonio, whose hands fell to his sides. “You are unbelievable,” Juanita said. “You disappear for three months, and then you suddenly turn up here. Well, you aren’t welcome. Grandmother doesn’t want to see you or speak to you.”
An’gel glanced at her sister, and Dickce shook her head as if to say what next?
“Juanita, my dear, I told Rosabella that I must return to Italy for several weeks to attend to business matters. My son, Benedetto, required my assistance, and I had to consult with my lawyers on other matters. Your grandmother knows this as we discussed it thoroughly before I departed last month.” He shrugged.
Juanita grimaced. “I should have known Grandmother was making things up again. She said you had abandoned her and vowed never to return. I’m sorry, Antonio.” She held out her hands.
“Do not worry, bellissima.” Antonio smiled and drew her to him. He kissed both her cheeks and then released her. “I, too, know your nonna, and she loves to tell these stories. She must have drama, that one, or her day is otherwise so tedious.” He turned to smile at An’gel and Dickce. “She told these charming ladies that she was a widow.”
“Honestly,” Juanita said, “is there nothing she won’t say to get attention?”
Antonio laughed. “She is fiery, my Rosabella, and never boring.”
He’s either a fool or completely besotted, An’gel thought. How did Rosabelle manage to fascinate men to the point of fatuity? An’gel couldn’t understand it.
She rose from the sofa. “I believe lunch should be ready in the dining room. Shall we go in?”
“As you wish, signorina.” Antonio offered her his left arm, and she accepted. Dickce and Juanita followed them into the dining room.
On the way An’gel explained that the meal would be a simple one, and Antonio insisted that whatever food he found at her table would be delightful.
The dining room was empty, and An’gel took Antonio straight to the sideboard and urged him to help himself. He smilingly refused. “No, the ladies, they must go first.”
“I will, if you don’t mind.” Juanita smiled as she picked up a plate. “I want to take something to Grandmother. She was just waking up when I left. I think I will let her have her lunch before I break the news of your arrival, Antonio.”
He inclined his head. “As you think best, bellissima. Your nonna will want time to prepare herself to receive me. I know her little ways.”
An’gel knew those little ways, too, and she suspected that the next time they saw Rosabelle in public, she would barely resemble the weary, frumpy woman who’d arrived yesterday.
Once Juanita finished loading a plate for Rosabelle, An’gel and Dickce helped themselves. Only then would Antonio prepare anything for himself. He accepted a glass of iced tea from An’gel, and the three of them sat, with An’gel in her usual place at the head of the table.
They ate in companionable silence for several minutes, and An’gel wondered where the rest of her guests were—not that she minded being able to enjoy her food without their lowering presence. Moments later she heard voices and footsteps in the hallway, and Wade Thurmond and Junior Pittman strolled into the dining room.
Wade stopped suddenly, and Junior, who was right behind him, almost knocked into him. Junior managed at the last moment to sidestep.
Wade’s lip curled. “Well, well, the gigolo returns.”
CHAPTER 23
To Dickce’s surprise, Antonio laughed heartily at Wade’s insult.
“You will have your little joke, Wade.” He sobered as he rose from his chair. “But I must not laugh at a time of such tragedy. Signorina Ducote has told me of the sad loss of your wife. I am so sorry to hear of this.”
“Save it for my mother.” Wade went the long way around the table to the sideboard, where he picked up a plate and began filling it.
Antonio shrugged and resumed his seat. Dickce was appalled—though not much surprised—by Wade’s rudeness, and the ensuing silence felt awkward to her. Even An’gel seemed at a loss for words.
Junior stood uncertainly in the doorway for a moment before he followed his uncle to the sideboard. He glanced at Antonio, then quickly away, as if embarrassed. Dickce wondered whether he agreed with his uncle’s opinion of Antonio. What if Maudine and Bernice felt the same way? Things could become increasingly uncomfortable if the others resented Antonio as much as Wade seemed to do.
Dickce tried to catch her sister’s eye, but An’gel appeared focused on her plate for the moment. Dickce wondered where they would put Antonio as she ate her ham sandwich and potato salad. Would he want to share Rosabelle’s room? It seemed only natural, since he was her husband. Juanita would have to move the trundle bed to the other guest room in that case. Of course, Rosabelle might not want him in her bedroom. Hard to predict how Rosabelle would react to her “dead” husband’s sudden resurrection.
Wade and Junior left the room with their plates and canned soft drinks. Dickce felt the atmosphere lighten with their exit. An’gel must have felt it, too, because she raised her head from her plate and spoke.
“Everyone is a bit on edge, Antonio, because of what happened.” An’gel patted her mouth with a linen napkin. “Our sheriff’s department is working on the case, and an extremely capable deputy is in charge of the investigation. You will have a chance to meet her soon.”
Antonio reached out to touch An’gel’s hand lightly, and Dickce was amused to see her sister’s face redden the tiniest bit.
“You have no need to make excuses for my stepson’s behavior, An’gel. He does not like me, because he believes I am a man with no resources of his own. Therefore, I am the sponge.” He shrugged. “It is true that when Rosabella and I first married, I was, how do you say, in reduced circumstances. All my income was tied up in the family business in Italy, but the circumstances, they have changed. Business has much improved, and now I am able to repay my darling Rosabella for her generous support.”
That was certainly smooth, Dickce thought. The man oozed charm and sincerity the way a cat shed its hair. He was the most attractive specimen of maleness she had encountered in a long time. She couldn’t help responding to his courtly manners earlier, and even now she felt the appeal of his gorgeous voice and charmingly accented English. That attraction aside, however, she didn’t completely trust him. Watching him was going to be truly interesting, she decided.