Page 39 of Giorgio

“Better?”

“Much. Thanks.”

They lapsed into silence again as they resumed eating.

Pressing a concealed button, he summoned a maid to clear the table. Waiting until the table was cleared and the maid had left, he pulled out her chair and helped her to her feet.

“I want to show you something.”

“Where?”

“You’ll see.” Taking her hand, he looped it through his arm. “We’ll take the elevator.” He looked at her quizzically. “Unless you want to be carried.”

“I think I will manage.”

“Afraid I am going to let you fall?”

“That never happened the two times you carried me, so no.” She snuggled against him as they made their way out and along the passageway where an elevator was hidden inside the wall. Pressing the button, he stepped into the car, making sure she was fully in before closing the doors.

“No elevator music?”

“No. It’s bloody annoying.”

“The quiet is… Oh, we are here.”

“You were saying something about the quiet?”

“It’s unnerving.”

“Only, you made up for the silence by engaging in a conversation about elevator music.”

“Why Signor Russo, are you implying that I was annoying?”

“Was I implying?”

Before she could retort, he pushed open a door in front of them and called for lights. Glittering chandeliers hanging from a high arched ceiling flooded the vast room and had her gazing around in awed silence.

The room was easily the size of a football field, with padded sofas at strategic corners. Floor to ceiling windows gave it even more space.

A raised dais was in one corner and in another, a massive fireplace, comfortable armchairs, and several others were scattered around. There was also a grand piano with a piano bench in front of it. Flowers were everywhere, perfuming the room with a light floral aroma.

“What is this place?”

“The grand drawing room, where we do most of the entertaining.” He led her over to one of the sofas and helped her to sit.

“Are there always flowers in the room?”

“Only when we are planning an event.”

She looked at him in surprise. “Is there going to be a party?”

He nodded, coming to sit next to her.

“Mother started this masquerade ball when she was alive, and it soon became a tradition.”

“When?”

“Saturday.”