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Authors: Cara Elliott
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where all the fashionable people go to drink the mineral waters. It is built atop an ancient underground Roman bath, which has lots of beautiful art and mosaics for you to sketch."
Her daughter's expression brightened.
"And there is the Society of Roman Antiquities." Alessandra pointed out a handsome classical building in the middle of the block. "I shall be working there some of the time."
"Will you be digging for Roman ruins in its cellars?" asked Isabella.
"No, tesoro. Our excavation site is in the wilds of the countryside, several miles outside of town. For the most part, that is where I shall be. However, when the weather is bad, I shall clean and catalogue our artifacts in the Society's work rooms."
A few minutes later the horses turned off onto Trim Street and stopped in front of the small townhouse Alessandra had rented for the duration of the dig. Her longtime butler, who had come down a few days earlier to prepare the place, hurried down the marble stairs to greet them.
"A message came for you this morning from Mr. Dwight-Davis, signora" he said, reaching for Alessandra's valise. "He apologized for the change in plans, but wished to inform you that his welcoming reception for the Italian scholars will be held tonight at the townhouse of the Bath Society of Roman Antiquities, rather than tomorrow."
"Tonight?" She sighed, wishing she could think of some reason for avoiding the social gathering. But considering that Dwight-Davis had exerted considerable effort to have her appointed to the Excavation Committee, it would be rude to cry off. This phase of the dig—a joint effort involving a special delegation from Rome—was a particularly prestigious assignment.
"Grazie, Ferraro," she went on. "I had better tell Lucrezia."
"Luza and I shall take care of everything" he assured her. "Cook has refreshments waiting in the drawing room. You and the angiolleto must be hungry and thirsty."
"A cup of tea would be welcome," admitted Alessandra. She glanced back at the baggage coach, which had just pulled up behind her carriage. "As for the little Angel—"
"Buongiorno, Ferraro!" Isabella jumped down from her seat "Look, I have drawn a picture of you, and one of Miss Wolcott"
The butler eyed the pencil profile, which greatly exaggerated his prominent Roman nose. "You have, er, excellent technique, bambina."
Isabella beamed. "Miss Wolcott, come look—"
"Miss Wolcott will have ample time to review your portfolio after teatime," interrupted Alessandra. Seeing the little girl's governess approach, she handed over Isabella's sketchbook with an apologetic shrug. "I'm afraid you are going to learn more about art than you might wish."
The governess smiled. "Art is an excellent accomplishment for a young lady to have. And it appears there are a great many interesting sites for Isabella to sketch around Bath."
Reminded of her own reasons for coming here, Alessandra lifted her skirts and started up the stairs of her temporary home. Most people came for the famous curative waters and for the lively social scene, but her interest in Bath had nothing to do with such superficial pursuits.
Recalling Kate's teasing words about meeting a handsome prince, Alessandra made a wry face. Men were the very last things on her mind. She was here to submerge herself in serious work, not to engage in Pump Room flirtations or drink the sulfurous elixirs.
Her throat tightened.
Besides, it would take more than a bubbling thermal spring to wash away the ills that plagued her.
Chapter seven
"How fortunate that you were free to join our committee on such short notice, Lord James."
Mr. Dwight-Davis straightened from his welcoming bow. A noted authority on the life of the emperor Augustus, the elderly scholar was a short, stout man whose rather odd outward appearance mirrored his inner zeal for the subject. His thinning white hair was styled a la Brutus, and despite the warmth of the room, he wore a long cloak artfully draped over one
Her daughter's expression brightened.
"And there is the Society of Roman Antiquities." Alessandra pointed out a handsome classical building in the middle of the block. "I shall be working there some of the time."
"Will you be digging for Roman ruins in its cellars?" asked Isabella.
"No, tesoro. Our excavation site is in the wilds of the countryside, several miles outside of town. For the most part, that is where I shall be. However, when the weather is bad, I shall clean and catalogue our artifacts in the Society's work rooms."
A few minutes later the horses turned off onto Trim Street and stopped in front of the small townhouse Alessandra had rented for the duration of the dig. Her longtime butler, who had come down a few days earlier to prepare the place, hurried down the marble stairs to greet them.
"A message came for you this morning from Mr. Dwight-Davis, signora" he said, reaching for Alessandra's valise. "He apologized for the change in plans, but wished to inform you that his welcoming reception for the Italian scholars will be held tonight at the townhouse of the Bath Society of Roman Antiquities, rather than tomorrow."
"Tonight?" She sighed, wishing she could think of some reason for avoiding the social gathering. But considering that Dwight-Davis had exerted considerable effort to have her appointed to the Excavation Committee, it would be rude to cry off. This phase of the dig—a joint effort involving a special delegation from Rome—was a particularly prestigious assignment.
"Grazie, Ferraro," she went on. "I had better tell Lucrezia."
"Luza and I shall take care of everything" he assured her. "Cook has refreshments waiting in the drawing room. You and the angiolleto must be hungry and thirsty."
"A cup of tea would be welcome," admitted Alessandra. She glanced back at the baggage coach, which had just pulled up behind her carriage. "As for the little Angel—"
"Buongiorno, Ferraro!" Isabella jumped down from her seat "Look, I have drawn a picture of you, and one of Miss Wolcott"
The butler eyed the pencil profile, which greatly exaggerated his prominent Roman nose. "You have, er, excellent technique, bambina."
Isabella beamed. "Miss Wolcott, come look—"
"Miss Wolcott will have ample time to review your portfolio after teatime," interrupted Alessandra. Seeing the little girl's governess approach, she handed over Isabella's sketchbook with an apologetic shrug. "I'm afraid you are going to learn more about art than you might wish."
The governess smiled. "Art is an excellent accomplishment for a young lady to have. And it appears there are a great many interesting sites for Isabella to sketch around Bath."
Reminded of her own reasons for coming here, Alessandra lifted her skirts and started up the stairs of her temporary home. Most people came for the famous curative waters and for the lively social scene, but her interest in Bath had nothing to do with such superficial pursuits.
Recalling Kate's teasing words about meeting a handsome prince, Alessandra made a wry face. Men were the very last things on her mind. She was here to submerge herself in serious work, not to engage in Pump Room flirtations or drink the sulfurous elixirs.
Her throat tightened.
Besides, it would take more than a bubbling thermal spring to wash away the ills that plagued her.
Chapter seven
"How fortunate that you were free to join our committee on such short notice, Lord James."
Mr. Dwight-Davis straightened from his welcoming bow. A noted authority on the life of the emperor Augustus, the elderly scholar was a short, stout man whose rather odd outward appearance mirrored his inner zeal for the subject. His thinning white hair was styled a la Brutus, and despite the warmth of the room, he wore a long cloak artfully draped over one
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