The little girl wasn’t fooled. Amelia didn’t smile back and her eyes kept wandering behind Isobel to the tree line at the start of the forest. Isobel didn’t need to look behind her to know that Matteo was there. She didn’t know what he was doing, but she could feel him. She could feel him everywhere these days.
It had been a mistake to bring the children outside again. She should have stayed in the schoolroom for today’s lesson, but she’d felt trapped inside the house. If Matteo was nearby—and it didn’t matter where—then she knew exactly where he was. It was only out of doors that she could catch her breath lately.
Eventually, Amelia relaxed and Isobel followed suit. Matteo had finally wandered to the stables. Unfortunately, it wasn’t the only time they saw him that day. He was strolling the kitchen gardens when the children sat down to lunch and was loitering near the stairs when they went up to the schoolroom to continue afternoon lessons. The pattern was repeated in the following days until Isobel started to feel haunted.
In all that time, Matteo only tried to speak to her once, when she was crossing the foyer after the children to take them upstairs early one afternoon. He appeared out of the shadows with that unnatural quiet step of his, startling her into stopping short when she should have continued after her charges.
“Signorina,” he said, bowing deeper than was required for someone of her station. “I see you and the children have been enjoying the fine weather.”
Blushing slightly despite herself, Isobel nodded. “It won’t last long, I’m afraid,” she said, looking around.
She hoped one of the Montgomerys would appear, and even found herself wishing for the count’s oppressive and disapproving presence. But she was alone as Martin and Amelia made their way up the stairs and Matteo continued to make polite inquiries, mostly about the children and their lessons, which Isobel felt obliged to answer.
Despite her apprehension, Isobel felt flushed and warm under the young lord’s gaze. She avoided looking directly into his eyes, but keeping her focus below his neck just highlighted his broad shoulders and large muscular arms. She idly wondered if Italy had gentleman’s sporting clubs like Gentleman Jackson’s Pugilism saloon. The width and breadth of his shoulders suggested he spent a lot of time in such pursuits.
Stop.
Matteo wasn’t a normal man, and she was not at liberty to enjoy his attentions.
A little movement startled her again, and she looked down to see Amelia creeping close. She smiled down at her charge, marveling at the little girl’s bravery. Amelia had shown every sign of being afraid of all adults and Matteo in particular.
The little girl was a more perceptive child than most, and even though Isobel was fairly certain she didn’t have the sight, she knew Amelia could feel Isobel’s tension every time their guest appeared.
The fact that Amelia had come down the stairs to stand with Isobel said a lot about her inner fortitude. She wondered how much of that was due the untimely death of her parents and being uprooted from the only home she had ever known.
Matteo smiled down at her charge and kneeled down to talk to her. Isobel resisted the urge to pull the child behind her skirts.
“And how do you like your new governess?” he asked softly after a brief discussion on the virtues of ponies, smiling up at Isobel.
That single unguarded look confirmed that the shadowy darkness was still there, flickering behind his eyes. In fact, it seemed like that blackness had spread like a halo around his head.
Amelia was politely answering his questions, but she squeezed Isobel’s hand, betraying her discomfort.
“My lord, I really must continue with this afternoon’s lessons,” Isobel said gently, and Matteo straightened up with a wry grin.
“Of course,” he said, shuffling back a few steps.
His movement was slower than it had been a minute earlier and for a second she imagined that a flicker of pain crossed his face. He was definitely growing paler.
“Are you feeling well, my lord?” she asked before she could stop herself.
Matteo nodded, his expression growing distant. “I’m fine,” he lied quietly, before walking away.
***
Isobel told herself that she didn’t care about what was wrong with Matteo, but his degeneration in the following days was so startling that she couldn’t help being concerned.
He stopped wandering the grounds, trailing after her and the children. In fact, she no longer saw him much at all, even when the weather turned poor shortly afterward and they were all confined to the house.
The few times she did see him, he was in such obvious pain that her heart hurt watching him.
He could no longer walk unaided. The male servants that accompanied the Conte reappeared, helping Matteo from room to room while the house servants whispered like mad about the turn of events.
“’E was doing so well a few days ago,” Mary said with a moue of dismay as she nibbled on some bread, standing near the kitchen hearth.