Part 5 (1/2)
For some reason, seeing her flare at Ravenscroft went some way toward soothing Gregor's temper. She was magnificent! Grinning to himself, Gregor leaned back and waited.
Ravenscroft, ever eager to think things were in his favor, was nodding. He took Venetia's hands in his. ”I am not the sort of man to rush into things without thinking them through. Of course I have a plan, one that has taken into account every exigency.”
Venetia's gaze flickered from Ravenscroft to the window, where snow swirled outside. ”Really?”
Gregor bit his lip to keep from laughing.
Ravenscroft clasped her hands more tightly. ”Indeed, my dear! After marrying, we were to go to Italy via France.”
”How? That would cost a bit.”
”No need to worry your pretty head over that. I have quite a sum put away to pay for the trip.”
”We were to travel in the best of style, I presume?”
He looked a little uneasy, but his smile remained in place. ”Not the best, of course. But well enough.” Gregor cleared his throat. Both Ravenscroft and Venetia turned toward him. ”I know something of crossing to France. How much money did you bring?”
Ravenscroft colored. ”Enough.”
”More than twenty pounds?” Gregor asked gently.
There was a frozen moment, and then Ravenscroft nodded. ”Of course.”
The whelp didn't have ten, if he had a pence, Gregor decided. Still, he would show the lad some mercy. ”Providing you have twenty, you will find crossing the Channel quite comfortable. You can have a private cabin and meals, with your luggage, horses, and carriage loaded and unloaded.”
There was a moment's pregnant pause, then Ravenscroft said, ”And if I have less?”
”If you have ten, you might get a private cabin but will have to provide your own meals and load your own belongings. Of course, since you did not inform Miss Oglivie of your flight, I daresay she has very little luggage, anyway.”
”Very little,” she said in a resentful tone. ”Ravenscroft, I can see from your expression that crossing is much higher than you thought. Did you make any inquiries at all before you began this mad bolt to Italy?”
Ravenscroft glared. ”Yes! I made all sorts! People say it is remarkably inexpensive to live over there-”
”It had better be, since you don't even have enough for pa.s.sage over. How were we going to live once we arrived? If you were planning on my parents a.s.sisting us, you do not know their circ.u.mstances, for they are forever living at the edge of their means.”
”No, no! I would never ask such a thing! I thought, once we arrived, we would find a pretty little cottage in a vineyard. And once there-” Ravenscroft straightened, his expression beaming. ”Once there, I am going to write a book!”
The clock on the mantel ticked loudly. The snow outside silently swirled, the only movement to be seen.
Gregor had his fingers buried in the palms of his hands, struggling mightily not to laugh.
Venetia sent him a fulminating glare, letting him know he was fooling no one, then turned back to Ravenscroft. ”I have to ask you one thing.”
He leaned forward eagerly. ”Anything!”
”What was I supposed to be doing while you were working on this...this roman a clef?”
”Doing? I suppose I thought you would be keeping the cottage nice and clean, perhaps was.h.i.+ng our clothes in a pail and hanging them on a line in the sun.” He smiled a dreamy smile. ”Your hair has the faintest hint of red. It shows every time you are in the sunlight.”
Gregor almost choked. Red? Where had Ravenscroft gotten that from? Although...the light from the fire did indeed cast some reddish glints in Venetia's brown hair. Odd, he'd never noticed that before.
Venetia leaned forward, her face level with Ravenscroft's. ”You thought I would enjoy was.h.i.+ng my clothes by hand, hanging them on a clothesline?”
His smile slid a bit. ”I thought you would not mind helping while I wrote my book.”
”By hanging up your laundry?”
”And yours. And our children's.”
She closed her eyes.
”I know just how you feel!” he said eagerly. ”You are overwhelmed. I was the same way myself when it dawned on me what we were to do. We'll go to Italy, leave civilization behind, and live a simpler life. A more pure one. And perhaps,” he added naively, ”when you've time, you could take in a few local children as students and teach music and English and such.”
”Students?” Venetia repeated blankly. ”You thought I would do all of that and become a governess?”
”Just a few students,” he said hurriedly, his expression uncertain. ”I wouldn't wish you to be overworked.”
Gregor almost felt sorry for the man. ”Venetia, you always said you enjoyed helping your fellow- ”
”MacLean, do not say another word.” She did not look at him, but her frigid voice said it all.
Gregor settled deeper into his chair, placing his hands behind his head and leaning back. ”Ravenscroft, I can see that I underestimated you. I am surprised at the amount of thought you put into this concept, and I apologize for a.s.suming you were impetuously running into things.”
The younger man brightened. ”I'm certain it sounded like a harebrained idea to begin with. It did to me! But after a short reflection-”
”No doubt, over a few gla.s.ses of port,” Gregor guessed.
”Why, yes! Four, to be exact-”
Venetia pressed her fingers to her forehead.
”-I realized that Italy was the place for us. Once there, I know the muse will visit me, and my idea for a novel will come to fruition.”
”Do you have any of this novel written?” Gregor asked, curiosity strong in his tone.
Venetia yearned to hurl one of her boots at Gregor. The a.s.s was begging for a setdown, and poor Ravenscroft was too dim-witted to do more than cheerfully answer.
”No, I haven't written any of it yet,” he said now. ”But I have some notes.” Ravenscroft reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a crumpled piece of paper. He smoothed it out and said, ”I've named two of my characters and have decided to use my travels in Italy as the basis.”
”An educational book, then. One about the history of the state. Very good.”
”What? Oh, no! It's to be a mystery. A murder of some sort has occurred-I haven't decided who or how-and a young man is accused of the crime. Of course, he is innocent, but he must prove it, or else he will end up in jail for all time.”
Gregor quirked a brow. ”Let me guess...this young man, he is your age?”
”Why, yes.”