Dickce headed for the dining room. She was trying to think of a way to include herself in Rosabelle’s conversation with her husband. She was dying to hear what Rosabelle would say to him.
As she neared the dining room, she could hear Antonio talking. In Italian, she realized when she reached the doorway. He had a cell phone to his ear.
“Sì, sì, carissimo. È necessario essere pazienti. Vorrei per il divorzio.” He paused. “Sì, prometto, mio caro. Non appena è saggio. Sì, sì. Prometto, prometto.” He glanced toward the doorway and spotted Dickce. “Ciao.” He ended the call.
“Antonio,” Dickce said, her expression bland. “I am so sorry to interrupt you, but Rosabelle is downstairs now and would like you to join her in the parlor.”
Antonio gave her an odd look, but then he smiled. “How delightful. I am eager to see my lovely wife. I will go to her now.”
Dickce stood aside to let him pass, then followed him down the hall. She was determined to witness his reunion with Rosabelle somehow.
Especially since he’d been talking to someone on the phone about a divorce.
CHAPTER 25
Dickce’s Italian was rusty. The last time she and An’gel had traveled to Italy was seven years ago. She recalled enough of it, however, to get the gist of Antonio’s conversation. He had promised someone that he would talk about a divorce. He had told the other person to be patient.
The really interesting thing was that the person on the other end of the conversation was a man. Mio caro, Antonio had said. My beloved, but the gender of the Italian phrase was clearly masculine. Not mia cara, as one would expect with a woman.
Perhaps Antonio had been speaking to his son. What was the name he had mentioned? Benedetto. The Italian for Benedict. Dickce supposed it wasn’t all that strange for an Italian man to refer to his son in such a way. Italians were more emotionally expressive than Southern men—that was for sure.
It still sounded a bit odd, Dickce decided, as she followed Antonio all the way to the door of the parlor. She stayed a couple of steps behind, and he didn’t seem to realize she was right there with him.
He strode in, arms outstretched. “Rosabella, cara mia, I am so happy to see you. I told you I would return to you as soon as I could.”
Dickce crept to the edge of the door and peered in. Rosabelle stood at the fireplace, from which vantage point she stared coolly at her husband. As Dickce watched, Rosabelle held out a hand and allowed Antonio to take it. He bowed and kissed it, then straightened.
Rosabelle still had not spoken. Antonio held out his hands. “This is how you greet your beloved husband after he returns to you? Do not be so cold, cara, for I bring you wonderful news that will make you so, so happy.”
Rosabelle proffered a cheek, and Antonio stepped forward to bestow a kiss. “Your news had better be wonderful after the way you deserted me, you cad.” She tossed her head. “I could have been murdered at any time without you here to protect me. I will have more to say about that in a moment.” She moved away from the fireplace and sat on the sofa. She patted the cushion beside her. “Come tell me your news first.”
Dickce wished she had her cell phone with her. She would love to have video to show An’gel later when she told her about this touching reunion à la Barbara Cartland.
“The lawyers have rescued me,” Antonio said. “My inheritance is safe, and I no longer have need of your money. Is that not wonderful, my dear? Everything has been restored to me, and I am once again a wealthy man. A wealthy man with a wife who is bellissima.”
He certainly loved that word, Dickce thought. Most beautiful, indeed. She almost snorted but caught herself in time.
“The palazzo in Venice, the country estate, the factory in Milan, and the buildings in Rome? All definitely yours now?”
Rosabelle sounded so mercenary.
“Yes, my dear, I can take you to Italy now and present you as the Contessa di San Lorenzo. You will love the palazzo, I assure you. It will be my delight to show you Venezia. And to show you to Venezia.”
Oh, brother. The corn harvest bid fair to be substantial, if he kept this up. Dickce had to clap a hand over her mouth to contain her mirth.
“You will finally be able to fulfill your promises to me, then.” Rosabelle touched his cheek briefly. Then she turned away. “It was almost too late.”
“What do you mean, Rosabella?” Antonio sounded genuinely puzzled.
“Did An’gel not tell you about what happened in this very house yesterday?”
“She did tell me about the accident, yes, how the wife of your son fell down the stairs and died,” he said. “She also said it was not really an accident, but I did not understand completely what she meant.”
“It was an attempt to murder me,” Rosabelle said in a flat tone. “One of my dear family put water on those stairs out there, waiting for me to slip and fall and break my neck.” She laughed, a little wildly, Dickce thought. “Stupid Marla, however, saved my life. She went down before me and died instead.”
“These stories you have been telling me then, about a person who wants to harm you, they are true?” Antonio shook his head. “I do not understand, my dear. Why would one of them want to do such a terrible thing?”
“They all hate me,” Rosabelle said. “Except perhaps for dear Juanita, although she does pester me for money sometimes.” Her voice rose as she continued. “That’s all they care about. The money. They want me dead so they can have it all for themselves.”
Antonio seized her hands and held them. “Calm yourself, cara. Now that I have returned, you will be safe. I will not let anyone harm you.” He pulled a now-willing Rosabelle into his arms, and she rested her head on his shoulder. “Signorina An’gel tells me that a capable person is investigating and will soon know who did this terrible thing.”
“So An’gel says,” Rosabelle said as she lifted her head. “I have my doubts. But An’gel knows the woman, and An’gel is shrewd, if nothing else. You must stay by my side, Antonio. Now that you are here, I will be able to rest.” She sighed. “I know I look haggard and careworn because I have lost so much sleep.”
Rosabelle was even more shameless than Dickce remembered. Men could be such fools at times.
“You are as lovely as ever, cara mia,” Antonio said. He kissed her cheek. “Do not tell me such silly things.”
His mouth moved to hers, and Dickce looked away. Eavesdropping was one thing, but she drew the line at watching them necking.
After a moment, the embrace evidently ended. Rosabelle laughed in a way that Dickce figured was intended to be seductive. “Tell me more about your business with the lawyers. Did you talk to them about everything you promised me?”
Dickce peeked into the room again. Rosabelle had a stern expression, and Antonio was looking away from her.
“Yes, cara, I did talk to them, but it is not so easy, you understand, to change the will. I must think of Benedetto. He is my son.”
“So you say.” Rosabelle tossed her head.
A voice whispered somewhere near Dickce’s ear. “What are you doing?”
Startled, Dickce drew back from the doorway to see An’gel, hands on hips, glaring at her. Dickce motioned for An’gel to follow her as she moved across the hall to stand in front of the library door. She could hear the murmur from the television set through the partially open door. She pulled it gently shut. No need to disturb Wade and Junior.