Part 19 (1/2)

I'm just very smart.

Ah, and humble! She was suddenly smiling again, and enjoying teasing him.

In that case, we happen to be evenly matched. Is that why you went out walking without me?

I wanted to run away from you. To have finished my walk before you got here.

That was smart. But he didn't look hurt by it, nor did he look amused. He simply understood.

I'm sorry.

Don't be. Do you want me to leave now? It's all right, Isabella, I'll understand.

But she shook her head and held out her hand. He walked to her and took it, looking down into the bottomless black eyes.

I don't want you to go. I feel stupid now. Maybe I was wrong. She clung to him as the children did, and gently he took her hands and knelt beside her, holding them in his own.

I told you we'd go slowly. I'm not in a rush.

I'm glad. And with that she put her arms softly around his neck and hugged him, childlike. They held each other that way for what seemed like a very long time, and this time it was Isabella who moved her hand slowly, touched his chin and his eyes and his lean, handsome face. It was she who took the first step this time and whose lips sought his, gently at first then hungrily. And it was she who trembled when they stopped.

Take it easy, darling.

But she was smiling again. What was it you said about rape?

If you rape me, I'll punch you. He looked like offended virtue itself as she laughed. Then he was smiling again. Want to go for a drive? He looked hopeful, but he didn't want to push.

You brought the car?

No, I was planning to steal one. Of course I did. Why?

Then I'd love it. She paused. What will we tell Natasha?

That we're going out for a drive. Is that so wrong?

She looked at him sheepishly. I still feel guilty.

But he smiled gently at her. Don't worry about it. Sometimes so do I.

They bid Natasha a casual au revoir and went out for a drive, down to Wall Street, to the Cloisters, and then through the park. Settled against the plush upholstery, sitting close to him, she felt protected from the world.

I don't know what happened to me today, she said.

Don't worry about it, Isabella. It's all right.

I suppose so. Do you suppose I'll ever be sane again? She looked at him, smiling, half in jest, half in truth.

I hope not. I like you like this.

She smiled at him tenderly. I like you too.

But Isabella knew that she more than liked him two weeks later when Natasha was away for the weekend with the boys.

You mean they just left you? He looked infinitely sorry for her when he came by on Sat.u.r.day afternoon for tea. He had planned to sit with her for a few hours and maybe go for a walk, and he had been hoping that perhaps Natasha was going out. He enjoyed his time alone with Isabella, but it was even more precious to him because it was so rare. They were always surrounded by children, or Natasha, or even Hattie, the maid. Where did they go?

Isabella smiled in amus.e.m.e.nt as she handed him a cup of Earl Grey. Just to some friends of Natasha's in Connecticut. It'll do the boys good.

He nodded slowly, but it wasn't the boys he was thinking of as gently he reached for her hand. Do you realize how quiet it is here, and how seldom we're alone?

She sat there thinking, and slowly her mind drifted back to Rome. She had had so much s.p.a.ce in her home there, so much room to herself, so many hours of her own time. I wish you had known me then. She said it dreamily as he watched her eyes.

When, Isabella?

In Italy' . She said it softly and then looked up at him with a soft blush. But that doesn't make any sense, does it? In Italy, in the good days, she had been married. Corbett would have had no place in her life.

But he understood what she was thinking. It was normal that now and then she should long for her home. Do you have a wonderful house there?

She smiled and nodded, and then told him about Alessandro's Christmas carousel as her eyes danced. She looked so lovely as she told him that he put down his cup and took her in his arms.

I wish I could take you back there ' take you home, if that's what you want. And then he spoke very softly. But maybe one day home will be here? But she didn't really think so; she couldn't imagine spending the rest of her life anywhere except Rome. Do you miss it awfully?

She shrugged and smiled. Italy is ' just Italy. There's nothing like it anywhere in the world. Crazy people, crazy traffic, good spaghetti, wonderful smells' . As she said it she found herself thinking of the narrow back streets not far from San Gregorio, of women nursing babies in doorways and children running out of church, of the birds singing in the treetops in her garden ' just thinking of it brought tears to her eyes.

And as he watched her Corbett felt sympathy for her tear at his heart. Do you want to go out for dinner tonight, my love? It was the first time he had called her that and she smiled, but slowly she shook her head.

You know I can't.

But he thought for a moment. Perhaps you can.

Are you serious?

Why not? His eyes danced with mischief now. He had a plan. There's a funny little Italian restaurant I used to go to, way downtown. No one respectable' ever goes there. He grinned. We could probably dash in for a quick dinner, and no one would have any idea who you were. And it's so Italian that it's bound to feel like home. For a moment he wondered if that would make things worse, but he had a feeling that wouldn't be the case, and he was going to see to it that she had a marvelous time.

Like a fellow conspirator he waited in the living room while she got dressed. She emerged giggling, in black slacks and sweater, with a black Borsalino fedora pulled low over one eye.

Do I look mysterious? She was laughing, and so was he.

Very much so!

He even had the Rolls parked a few doors away, and they slipped unnoticed into the restaurant, where they gorged and Isabella chatted happily with their waiter as they drank inexpensive Roman wine.

Promise you won't tell Natasha! She'd kill me for this. Her eyes sparkled, and he agreed.

I couldn't tell her. She'd probably kill me first. But he didn't feel nervous about Natasha. He knew that Isabella was safe, and when they had had their fill of pasta and the simple red wine, they drove slowly home with a brief detour through the park. Happy? She nodded and settled her head against his shoulder. She had put her hat on the seat beside her, and her raven hair lay softly against his coat. He touched it gently, and then her cheek with his hand. And his eyes never seemed to leave her as he and Isabella went slowly inside.

Do you want to come in for coffee? She looked at him invitingly, but it wasn't coffee either of them had in mind.