Postcards From Rome: The Italian's Pregnant Virgin / A Proposal from the Italian Count / A Ring for Vincenzo's Heir

“It seems the family will all be here,” he said. “Such a surprise.”

“Engaged. You’re engaged. That’s why Mother called us and told us to get on Cristian’s private jet, I imagine.”

“Most definitely,” Renzo returned.

“You didn’t tell me,” Allegra said.

“In fairness to me, you did not tell me that you were expecting my best friend’s baby until it became unavoidable. You can hardly lecture me on not serving up a particular piece of news immediately.”

His sister’s face turned scarlet, and he looked back at Esther, who was watching the exchange with rapt attention. “Don’t pay attention to him,” Allegra said to Esther. “He very much likes to be shocking. And he likes to make me mad.”

“That seems in keeping with what I know about him,” Esther said.

Cristian laughed at that. “You two can’t have been together very long,” he said. “But it does seem you have a handle on him.”

Esther looked down. “I wouldn’t say that.”

Renzo poured himself a drink, feeling slightly sorry for Esther that he could not offer her the same. Especially given what he was about to do. “Since Mother didn’t tell you the great news of my engagement, I imagine she didn’t tell you I have other news.”

“No,” Allegra and Cristian said together.

“Esther and I are expecting a baby.” He reached out, putting his arm around Esther’s shoulders, rubbing his thumb up and down her arm when he felt her go stiff. That didn’t help, but he knew that it needled her. So, he would have to take that as consolation.

Allegra said nothing, Cristian’s expression one of almost comedic stillness. Finally, it was Cristian who spoke. “Congratulations. Start catching up on your sleep now.”

Allegra still said nothing.

“I can see you’re completely stunned by the good news,” he said.

“Well, yes. I know you’ve made many declarations to me about how you intend to be shocking at all times, so I don’t know why I’m surprised. Actually, I heavily resent my surprise. I should be immune to any sort of shock where you’re concerned.”

Of course, she wasn’t. Being his younger sister, Allegra always seemed to want to believe the best of him. Which was a very nice thing, in its way. But he was a constant disappointment to her. He knew that his marriage to Ashley had been something more than a shock. Although, why, he didn’t know. He had told her, in no uncertain terms, that he intended to marry the most unsuitable, shocking woman that he could find.

That was one that had backfired on him.

“Truly, little sister, you should know me better than that by now. Anyway, let us refrain from speaking of the other ways in which I’ve shocked you in front of Esther. She’s still under the illusion that I’m something of a gentleman.”

Esther looked at him, her expression bland. “I can assure you I’m not.”

Cristian and Allegra seemed to find that riotously amusing. Mostly, he imagined, because they thought she was being dry. In fact, he had a feeling Esther was being perfectly sincere. She was sincere. That was something he was grappling with. Because he didn’t know very many sincere people.

He was much more accustomed to those who were cynical. Who approached the world with a healthy bit of opportunism. It was the sincere people who dumbfounded him. Mostly, because he couldn’t figure out a way to relate to them. He couldn’t anticipate them.

Seeing her earlier today trying on all of those clothes, the way she had looked at him when he had touched her leg, when he had bent down to change her shoes, had been something of a revelation. Until then he had still been skeptical of her. Of her story, of who she claimed to be.

But who she seemed to present was exactly who she was. A somewhat naive creature who was from a world entirely apart from the one she was in now. Her reaction to his parents’ house only reinforced that. He had watched her closely upon entry. If she were a gold digger, he felt he would have seen a moment—even if it was only a moment—where she had looked triumphant. Where she had fully understood the prize that she was inheriting.

Frankly, the position he had put her in gave her quite a bit of leverage for taking advantage. Yes, DNA tests would prove that the child wasn’t hers, but who knew how a ruling might go in Italy where there were no laws to support surrogacy. She was the woman who carried the child, and she would give birth to the child. He imagined that legally there was no way she would walk away with nothing.

And he had offered to marry her. Another way in which she could take advantage of him and his money. And yet she had not seemed excited by that either.

That didn’t mean things wouldn’t change, but for now, he was forced to reconcile with the fact that she might be the rarest of all creatures. Someone who was what she said.

“Excellent,” Allegra said to Esther. “I would hate for you to marry my brother while thinking he was well behaved.”

Spurred on by his earlier ruminations, he turned his head, nuzzling the tender skin on Esther’s neck, just beneath her jawline. “Of course,” he said, allowing his lips to brush against her, “Esther is well aware of how wicked I can be.”

He looked up, trying to gauge her response. Her burnished skin was dark pink beneath, a wild, fevered look in her eye. “Yes,” she said, her voice higher than usual. “We do know each other. Quite well. We are... We’re having a baby. So...”

“Right,” Allegra said.

Just then, a servant came in, interrupting the awkward exchange. “Excuse me,” the man said. “Your mother has asked me to ‘come and fetch you for dinner.’”

Likely, those were his mother’s exact words.

Keeping his hand on Esther’s lower back, he led the charge out of the room and toward the dining hall. He could feel her growing stiffer and stiffer beneath his touch the closer they got, almost as if she could sense his mother. He wouldn’t be surprised. His mother radiated ice, and openly telegraphed her difficulty to be pleased.

“Take a breath,” he whispered in her ear just before they walked in. She complied, her shoulders lifting with a great gasp. “See that you don’t die before dessert.”

And then he propelled her inside.

His mother was there, dressed in sequins, looking far too young to have two grown children, one grandchild and another on the way. His father was there, looking every bit his age, stern-faced and distinguished, and likely a portrait of Renzo’s own fate in thirty years.

“Hello,” his mother said, not standing, which Renzo knew was calculated in some way or another. “So nice to meet you, Esther,” his mother said, using Esther’s first name, which he had no doubt was as calculated as the rest. “Allegra, Cristian, so glad you could come. And that you brought my favorite grandchild.”

“Your only grandchild,” Allegra said, taking her seat while Cristian set about to setting their daughter in a booster seat that had already been put in place for her.

All of this was like salt in a wound. He loved his niece, but there was a particular kind of pain that always came when he was around small children. And when his parents said things like this...about their only grandchild...that pain seemed insurmountable.

“Not for long, though,” Allegra continued. “Unless Renzo hasn’t told you?”

“He has not. Good. Well, at least now we’re all up to speed.” His mother gave Renzo a very pointed look. “Do you have any other surprises for us?”

“Not at the moment,” he said.

Dinner went on smoothly, their mother and father filling up most of the conversation, and Renzo allowing his brother-in-law to take any of the gaps that appeared. Cristian was a duke, and his title made him extremely interesting to Renzo and Allegra’s parents.

Then suddenly, his father’s focus turned to Renzo. “I suppose we will see both you and Esther at the charity art exhibit in New York in two weeks?”

Damn. He had forgotten about that. His father was a big one for philanthropy, and he insisted that Renzo make appearances at these types of events. Not because his father believed firmly in charity in a philosophical sense, but because he believed in being seen as someone who did. Oh, he wasn’t completely cold-blooded, and truly, it didn’t matter either way. A good amount of money made it into needy hands regardless.

But bringing Esther to New York, having her prepared to attend such a land mine–laden event with very little preparation was... Well, just thinking about it was difficult.

More than just the Esther complication, there was always the Jillian complication. Or worse, Samantha. They split their time between Italy and the States, so the probability of seeing them was...high.

But he’d weathered that countless times. Esther was his chief concern. She would probably end up hiding under one of the buffet tables, or perhaps eating a bowl of chocolate mousse on the floor. Thankfully, it would be at night, so there would be no sunbeams for her to warm herself beneath.

“Of course,” he said, answering as quickly as possible, before Esther opened her mouth. He had to make it seem as though they had discussed this. That he had not in fact forgotten about the existence of this event—one that he attended every year—due to the fact that he had been shocked by the news of a stranger carrying his child.