Renville to meet you, Royde. As I intimated, the Exhibition space will be largely my wife’s concern. But that should not worry you—she will do a good job of overseeing the work. She has artistic flair and will be happy to advise, will you not, Mrs Renville?’
Lucas looked at the woman addressed and felt his heart sing. She must have been at least twenty years younger than her uncompromising spouse, and a thousand times more attractive. She was bareheaded, and her long, dark hair was drawn back smoothly from an oval face and fastened into a knot from which one or two curls escaped with joyous abandon. Her heritage was betrayed in the smooth olive complexion and the soft brown eyes that even now were smiling out at him. Women’s fashions were often unflattering, he thought, even downright ugly, but the light blue silk dress Alessia Renville wore did nothing to conceal her beautiful form. In the warmth of the office she had unbuttoned her woollen cape and Lucas caught a glimpse of full but shapely breasts and a neatly nipped waist.
When she spoke, the accent was hardly detectable. ‘I am pleased to meet you, Mr Royde. I am most interested in design, though I cannot pretend any expertise. But it will be a great pleasure to work alongside you.’ Her gentle voice seemed to reach into him and give a little tug at his soul.
He stood as though rooted to a few square inches of floor, unable to think at all sensibly. He knew he had to pull himself together. This was a business meeting, and she was his client’s wife.
He moved towards her and took her proffered hand. ‘It is a great pleasure to meet you, Mrs Renville,’ he said in a carefully neutral voice. ‘Our shared acquaintance with Italy is sure to result in a most successful collaboration.’
Seeing a deep frown appear on Renville’s face, Daniel de Vere interposed. ‘Mutual experience will make for an excellent beginning, but naturally the collaboration will be an entirely English one.’
‘Entirely,’ Alessia Renville added unexpectedly. To Lucas’s ear her tone held a note of gentle mockery, but when he shot her a swift glance, her face was without guile.
Her husband gave a loud harrumph and once more collected his hat from the desk.
‘We must be leaving,’ he announced abruptly. ‘I still have many hours of work before me.’ His disdainful glance dismissed the notion that this could ever apply to an architect. ‘And I must first escort my wife home.’
‘Of course,’ de Vere said smoothly. ‘Will Mrs Renville be coming to our offices for consultations? If so, I would be happy to make my room available to her whenever she wishes.’
‘Royde will come to our house,’ his uncomfortable guest stated baldly. ‘Next week, Thursday at two in the afternoon. Bring some ideas for my wife to see. Once she has agreed to them, we will make a start. The Exhibition site has been under construction since last September and is already well developed.’
Lucas was confounded. Surely even this philistine must realise that it would take time to create a design that would perfectly display the beauty of the silks he sold. But there was little point in arguing. Edward Renville was a rich man who expected his demands to be met.
‘If the site has already reached an advanced stage, it would be helpful to know the precise location of the space that you have been awarded,’ he managed in a tight voice.
‘You will need to discover it for yourself. It is immaterial. What I want to see are plans—and quickly. Space at the Exhibition is heavily oversubscribed and only my considerable influence has obtained one.’
Lucas gave up. The man was an ogre and a stupid ogre at that. He could not keep the contempt from his face, but before Renville had noticed the affront, his wife had collected her bonnet from a nearby chair and was holding out a gloved hand.
‘Till next Thursday then, Mr Royde,’ she smiled gently.
‘
A giovedì
,’ Lucas repeated quietly, holding
Lucas looked at the woman addressed and felt his heart sing. She must have been at least twenty years younger than her uncompromising spouse, and a thousand times more attractive. She was bareheaded, and her long, dark hair was drawn back smoothly from an oval face and fastened into a knot from which one or two curls escaped with joyous abandon. Her heritage was betrayed in the smooth olive complexion and the soft brown eyes that even now were smiling out at him. Women’s fashions were often unflattering, he thought, even downright ugly, but the light blue silk dress Alessia Renville wore did nothing to conceal her beautiful form. In the warmth of the office she had unbuttoned her woollen cape and Lucas caught a glimpse of full but shapely breasts and a neatly nipped waist.
When she spoke, the accent was hardly detectable. ‘I am pleased to meet you, Mr Royde. I am most interested in design, though I cannot pretend any expertise. But it will be a great pleasure to work alongside you.’ Her gentle voice seemed to reach into him and give a little tug at his soul.
He stood as though rooted to a few square inches of floor, unable to think at all sensibly. He knew he had to pull himself together. This was a business meeting, and she was his client’s wife.
He moved towards her and took her proffered hand. ‘It is a great pleasure to meet you, Mrs Renville,’ he said in a carefully neutral voice. ‘Our shared acquaintance with Italy is sure to result in a most successful collaboration.’
Seeing a deep frown appear on Renville’s face, Daniel de Vere interposed. ‘Mutual experience will make for an excellent beginning, but naturally the collaboration will be an entirely English one.’
‘Entirely,’ Alessia Renville added unexpectedly. To Lucas’s ear her tone held a note of gentle mockery, but when he shot her a swift glance, her face was without guile.
Her husband gave a loud harrumph and once more collected his hat from the desk.
‘We must be leaving,’ he announced abruptly. ‘I still have many hours of work before me.’ His disdainful glance dismissed the notion that this could ever apply to an architect. ‘And I must first escort my wife home.’
‘Of course,’ de Vere said smoothly. ‘Will Mrs Renville be coming to our offices for consultations? If so, I would be happy to make my room available to her whenever she wishes.’
‘Royde will come to our house,’ his uncomfortable guest stated baldly. ‘Next week, Thursday at two in the afternoon. Bring some ideas for my wife to see. Once she has agreed to them, we will make a start. The Exhibition site has been under construction since last September and is already well developed.’
Lucas was confounded. Surely even this philistine must realise that it would take time to create a design that would perfectly display the beauty of the silks he sold. But there was little point in arguing. Edward Renville was a rich man who expected his demands to be met.
‘If the site has already reached an advanced stage, it would be helpful to know the precise location of the space that you have been awarded,’ he managed in a tight voice.
‘You will need to discover it for yourself. It is immaterial. What I want to see are plans—and quickly. Space at the Exhibition is heavily oversubscribed and only my considerable influence has obtained one.’
Lucas gave up. The man was an ogre and a stupid ogre at that. He could not keep the contempt from his face, but before Renville had noticed the affront, his wife had collected her bonnet from a nearby chair and was holding out a gloved hand.
‘Till next Thursday then, Mr Royde,’ she smiled gently.
‘
A giovedì
,’ Lucas repeated quietly, holding
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