Duke of Scandal (Moonlight Square, Book 1) by Gaelen Foley Page A

answered before Jason could speak. “Oh no, signorina ! There is me with-a my music. And de painter, Omero Caradonna, and the great sculptor, too, Vitale Sanfratello.”
    “One must have Italians for the art,” Jason murmured sardonically to her alone.
    “Ah,” she said.
    “De house where His Grace lets us live and work is like a-being back at home in Firenze. Well, except for the presence of de grumpy Scottish person, Mr. Sloan. But Grumpy Scot is indeed a genius,” he conceded.
    She looked at Jason again in amusement. “What does Grumpy Scot do? Brew your whiskey for you?”
    “Now, now, Scots happen to be excellent inventors, if you hadn’t heard,” he informed her in a lofty tone. “Atticus Sloan builds all manner of odd contraptions. It wouldn’t surprise me if one of his inventions changes the world someday. Indeed, the house in Bloomsbury where I’ve put them up is quite a hive of nonstop, ingenious creation. I should take you there sometime,” Jason said. “It’s rather fascinating.”
    “Si!” Giovanelli seized upon this chance to redeem himself in his patron’s eyes. “Sir, if you bring de young lady, we should all be happy to give her a tour of our works! Grumpy may not speak to you too much, signorina . He is— How you say…?”
    “Eccentric,” Jason supplied, grateful for the opening. He looked at Felicity. “I was thinking of calling on these fellows tomorrow, as it happens. Having a look at everybody’s progress. Care to join me?”
    Her lovely face lit up. “Oh, could I?”
    “Of course.” He was almost abashed by her delight at his suggestion. “You and Mrs. Brown both.”
    “ Signorina , you must come! You love it! Omero’s paintings, they are so beautiful, and Vitale’s marble goddess…she almost seems to breathe.”
    “How wonderful. If you’re sure I wouldn’t be intruding—”
    “Not at all,” Jason said at once.
    The Italian charmer had done well by thinking of the idea, and if the other resident geniuses didn’t like their visit, well, Jason paid for their existence. He bloody well ought to be welcome to call on them whenever he dashed well pleased.
    Within reason, of course.
    His respect for them was actually immense. He did not give a fig that they were lowborn. Leonardo da Vinci himself, after all, had been the illegitimate son of a housemaid.
    “Oh, I’m so excited!” Felicity clapped her hands daintily, beaming. “I’ve never been behind the scenes of an artist’s studio before.”
    The appearance of Lord and Lady Pelletier in the doorway of the entrance, talking to some of their guests, made Giovanelli look over anxiously. “I should go before I am seen,” he said with an apologetic frown. “I have already embarrassed de dear lord and lady of this house enough for one night.”
    “Don’t worry. They’re not angry at you, far as I can tell,” Jason said, feeling generous now that he knew he would see Felicity again as soon as tomorrow.
    Still, the flamboyant Italian could barely drag himself away from the signorina . He clasped Felicity’s hand between his own and bent to place a flowery kiss to her knuckles. “It has been a-such a pleasure meeting you, bella signorina .”
    “Likewise, Mr. Giovanelli.”
    The composer bowed to Jason with a courtier’s flourish. “ Buona sera, Your Grace. Until tomorrow.”
    “Good night,” Jason replied.
    Then the fellow whisked off with a flap of his cape and disappeared into the shadows.
    Standing side by side, Jason and Felicity exchanged a twinkling glance of amusement at his dramatic exit.
    “What a charming fellow.” The arch smile tugging at her lips made him want to throw her in her carriage—which was rolling down the street toward them now—flatten her on the squabs in there, and kiss her senseless.
    Unfortunately, her chaperone was on the way.
    “Until tomorrow, then,” Felicity whispered, discreetly capturing his hand by her side and giving it a squeeze while they were still alone.
    He