Lucia woke to sunlight streaming through the windows and the distinct realization that she was tangled around Alessandro like ivy on a trellis.
Her leg was thrown over his, her head rested on his chest, and her hand had somehow migrated under his shirt to rest against warm skin. Alessandro, for his part, had both arms wrapped around her and was snoring softly into her hair.
She should move. Establish appropriate distance. Remind them both about boundaries and measured progression.
Instead, she stayed exactly where she was and listened to his heartbeat.
"You're awake," Alessandro murmured after several minutes, his chest rumbling under her ear. "I can tell by the change in your breathing."
"I was considering my options."
"And what did you decide?"
"That moving requires effort and I'm comfortable here." Lucia felt his quiet laugh. "Is this acceptable within our partnership parameters?"
"Extremely acceptable. I've been awake for twenty minutes trying to decide if extracting myself would wake you or if staying still would make you uncomfortable." His hand traced idle patterns on her back. "You're a surprisingly aggressive cuddler for someone so systematically cautious about emotional development."
"I was unconscious. Unconscious behavior doesn't count toward emotional development milestones."
"That seems like a convenient technicality." Alessandro's tone was warm with amusement. "So if I were to kiss you right now, while you're technically still half asleep, would that also not count?"
"That depends entirely on the quality of the kiss."
"Well, now there's pressure." He shifted to look down at her properly. "Good morning, wife."
"Good morning, husband." Lucia met his gaze, noting the way morning light turned his amber eyes almost golden. "You stayed all night."
"You didn't kick me out. I took that as implicit permission."
"Sound reasoning." She traced a finger along his collarbone absently. "We should probably get up. Face the day's disasters with appropriate dignity."
"Probably." But neither of them moved. "Or we could stay here and let the disasters wait a bit longer."
"That's irresponsible estate management."
"I'm willing to be temporarily irresponsible if you are." Alessandro's hand moved to cup her face. "Unless you're ready to establish distance and return to strictly professional interactions?"
Lucia answered by closing the remaining space between them and kissing him properly.
This kiss was different from their previous ones. Slower, more exploratory, lacking the performance aspect of their wedding or the cautious testing of their garden encounters. Alessandro made a low sound of pleasure and pulled her closer, his hand sliding into her loose hair.
When they finally broke apart, both breathing unevenly, Alessandro rested his forehead against hers.
"That was considerably better than adequate," he said unevenly.
"High praise indeed." Lucia's heart was racing in a way that had nothing to do with fear. "We should definitely get up now before this progresses beyond current milestone parameters."
"Agreed. Though for the record, I'm extremely motivated to reach the next milestone quickly."
"Duly noted." Lucia forced herself to pull away, immediately missing his warmth. "I need to dress and review yesterday's progress reports before breakfast."
"Of course you do. My systematic, estate managing wife." But Alessandro's tone was fond. "I'll return to my chambers and attempt to look presentable enough that the staff don't immediately deduce we spent the night in close proximity."
"They're going to deduce that regardless. Nothing escapes household staff notice."
"Fair point." Alessandro climbed out of bed, running a hand through his disheveled hair. "Meet you at breakfast in an hour? We should discuss how to address the staff situation together."
After he left through the connecting door, Lucia lay in bed for several long moments, pressing her fingers to her still tingling lips and feeling absurdly pleased.
Then, annoyed with herself for mooning like a girl half her age, she rose and rang for Paola.
Her maid appeared with barely suppressed curiosity written across her face.
"Good morning, my lady. Shall I prepare your usual morning attire?"
"Yes, please." Lucia moved to her washbasin. "And Paola? Whatever conclusions you're drawing about last night, keep them to yourself."
"Of course, my lady." But Paola was smiling as she laid out clothes. "Though if I might say, you look considerably happier than you did yesterday."
"The count returned. That's cause for relief."
"Yes, my lady. Relief. Certainly." Paola's tone suggested she believed nothing of the sort.
***
Breakfast was waiting in the small dining room, along with Signora Benedetti holding a stack of documents that did not bode well.
"Problems?" Alessandro asked, pouring coffee.
"Complications," Signora Benedetti corrected. "The Dowager Countess's departure this morning caused significant disruption. Three staff members resigned rather than remain under the countess's authority. Two others requested reassignment to the Milan property. And several tenants have sent inquiries about whether the contract modifications are still valid or if they were nullified during the recent, shall we say, administrative confusion."
Lucia accepted coffee from Alessandro with a grateful nod. "The contract modifications remain valid. Send confirmation to all tenants immediately. As for the staff resignations, were they essential positions?"
"One was an under gardener, easily replaced. The other two were household maids, also replaceable but their loss creates temporary shortage." Signora Benedetti consulted her notes. "The requests for reassignment are more concerning. One is the assistant cook, the other is the head groom. Both hold positions requiring more careful replacement."
"Let them transfer to Milan," Alessandro said immediately. "I won't keep staff who'd rather serve my stepmother. That's a recipe for continued divided loyalties."
"Agreed. But we need replacements quickly." Lucia turned to Signora Benedetti. "Can you handle hiring, or should I involve myself directly?"
"I can manage it, my lady. I know several qualified candidates." Signora Benedetti paused. "There's one more issue. The solicitor sent word that he's refusing to work with the estate until the, quote, appropriate family authority structure is reestablished."
Alessandro's expression went cold. "He's refusing to provide legal services?"
"He believes the Dowager Countess should have veto authority over the countess's decisions. He's objecting to her, shall we say, forcible relocation." Signora Benedetti's tone was carefully neutral. "He claims it sets a dangerous precedent for family relations."
"The dangerous precedent is my stepmother attempting to usurp my wife's explicit authority while I was absent." Alessandro's voice was hard. "Send word that his services are no longer required. I'll retain new legal counsel in Verona."
"That might create complications with existing contracts—"
"Then we'll address those complications as they arise. I won't employ a solicitor who undermines my household." Alessandro glanced at Lucia. "Unless you disagree with that approach?"
"Not at all. A solicitor who sides with family politics over legal reality is worse than useless." Lucia spread jam on toast with precise motions. "Hire someone competent who understands that the countess manages estate operations without requiring a committee's approval."
Signora Benedetti made notes. "I'll inquire about available candidates. Anything else?"
"Yes. How is Marco recovering?" Lucia set down her knife. "I should visit him today, ensure his family has everything they need."
"His wife sent word yesterday that the leg is healing well. The doctor is cautiously optimistic." Signora Benedetti's expression softened. "She wanted me to convey her gratitude for the continued wages and medical care. Apparently that's, unusual in her experience."
"It's basic decency. People shouldn't have to express gratitude for basic decency." Lucia felt Alessandro's hand find hers under the table, a brief squeeze of support. "But I'll visit anyway. Seeing the situation directly is better than relying on secondhand reports."
After Signora Benedetti departed, Alessandro leaned back with visible satisfaction. "You're in your element again. Issuing instructions, solving problems, terrifying people with your competence."
"I don't terrify people."
"You absolutely terrify people. It's one of your more attractive qualities." Alessandro grinned at her expression. "What? I married a woman who dismissed an embezzling steward and advertised for a husband in the newspaper. Expecting her not to be intimidating would be unreasonable."
"I'm not intimidating. I'm direct."
"Same thing to people unaccustomed to women having opinions and authority." Alessandro stood, offering his hand. "Come on. Let's go terrify the remaining staff with clear announcements about authority structures and expectations."
They gathered the household staff in the main hall, a considerably smaller group than the previous confrontation. Everyone who remained had chosen to stay despite the Dowager Countess's departure, which Lucia took as a positive sign.
"I want to address yesterday's events directly," Alessandro began, his voice carrying to every corner. "The Dowager Countess has relocated to Milan. She won't be returning to Verona. That decision is final and non negotiable."
Murmurs rippled through the assembled staff. Alessandro waited for silence before continuing.
"Countess Ferretti manages this estate and household with my complete authority and support. Her decisions are mine. Her instructions are to be followed exactly as if I'd issued them myself." His tone was firm. "If anyone has concerns about taking direction from the countess, you're welcome to seek employment elsewhere. I won't tolerate divided loyalties or questioning of her authority."
He paused, letting that sink in. "However, if you remain, you'll be treated fairly and compensated well. The countess values competence and dedication. She's already improved tenant relations and planned strategic improvements that will benefit everyone here. Those who work with her will prosper. Those who work against her will find themselves unemployed."
Lucia stepped forward. "I understand the past weeks have been disruptive. Change is uncomfortable, especially when it challenges long established patterns. But I'm not going anywhere. This is my home now, this estate is my responsibility, and I take that responsibility seriously." She met eyes around the room, her voice steady. "I expect competence, honesty, and dedication. In return, you'll receive fair treatment, reasonable working conditions, and appreciation for good work. Those are the terms. Are there any questions?"
Signora Alberti raised her hand hesitantly. "My lady, what about the household budget? The Dowager Countess claimed you were overspending."
"The household budget will be reviewed and adjusted as needed, but previous expenditures were justified and documented." Lucia kept her tone even. "If you have concerns about specific costs or expenses, bring them to me directly. I welcome input from people with actual expertise."
"And the drainage project?" one of the groundskeepers called out. "Are we continuing despite the accident?"
"Yes. With modified safety protocols and additional oversight. The project will succeed, and when it does, it'll increase estate profitability significantly." Lucia held the man's gaze. "I don't abandon plans because of setbacks. I adapt and continue forward."
No more questions emerged. Alessandro dismissed the staff with clear instructions to return to normal operations, and gradually the hall emptied.
"That was well handled," Alessandro said once they were alone. "Firm but not cruel. Clear without being condescending."
"I was channeling my father during his competent years. He had a gift for addressing staff without alienating them." Lucia felt exhaustion creeping back despite the morning's coffee. "Now I need to visit Marco and ensure that situation is properly managed."
"I'll come with you. United front and all that."
They took a small carriage to Marco's cottage at the edge of the property. The building was modest but well maintained, smoke curling from the chimney despite the warm afternoon. Three children played in the yard, stopping to stare wide eyed as the carriage approached.
Marco's wife appeared in the doorway, wiping her hands on her apron. She was young, probably not yet thirty, with a heavily pregnant belly and worry lines around her eyes.
"My lord, my lady." She curtsied awkwardly. "Marco's inside. He's been fretting about meeting with you properly."
"No need for fretting. This is informal." Lucia climbed down without waiting for assistance. "How is he managing?"
"Better than expected, my lady. The leg pains him, but the doctor says it's healing clean." She led them inside to a small, tidy main room where Marco sat in a chair by the fire, his injured leg propped on a stool.
He tried to stand when they entered, wincing with the effort.
"Sit, please." Alessandro waved him back down. "No need for formality when you're injured."
Marco settled back reluctantly, his face flushed with embarrassment. "My lord, my lady. I'm so sorry about the accident. I should have been more careful, should have noticed the soil instability—"
"The accident wasn't your fault," Lucia interrupted. "The engineer missed the soil composition change. If anyone bears responsibility, it's the planning phase, not the execution."
"Still, I've caused problems. Cost the estate money in medical care and lost work—"
"You've cost the estate nothing. You were injured performing estate work, so your care is estate responsibility." Lucia pulled a chair over and sat directly across from him, her tone matter of fact. "How's the leg actually feeling? Don't give me polite answers, give me accurate ones."
Marco blinked at her directness. "It hurts like the devil, my lady. Especially at night. The laudanum helps but makes me fuzzy headed."
"That's normal for healing breaks. Continue the laudanum as the doctor prescribes, even if you dislike the side effects." Lucia glanced at his wife. "Are you managing financially? I know continued wages help, but medical expenses and lost productivity create additional strain."
"We're managing, my lady." The wife's voice was cautious. "The wages you've continued are more than generous."
"That's not what I asked. I asked if you're managing financially or if you need additional support during recovery." Lucia kept her voice gentle but firm. "There's no shame in requiring help when circumstances are difficult."
The couple exchanged glances. "The baby's due in six weeks," Marco's wife admitted quietly. "I've been worried about affording the midwife if Marco can't return to work soon."
"The estate will cover the midwife's fee as part of your medical care." Lucia pulled out her notebook, making a note. "Consider it an extension of Marco's injury compensation. Bring the bill to Signora Benedetti when the time comes."
Marco's wife's eyes filled with tears. "My lady, that's, we can't accept—"
"You can and you will. I won't have a worker's family struggling financially because of an estate project accident." Lucia's tone was firm. "This isn't charity. It's meeting our obligations responsibly."
Alessandro, who'd been standing quietly by the door, moved forward. "Marco, when you're recovered enough to return to work, we'll find you a position that doesn't require heavy labor until the leg is completely healed. No sense rushing recovery and risking permanent damage."
"That's, that's more than fair, my lord." Marco's voice was thick with emotion. "I don't know how to repay this kindness."
"Repay it by healing properly and continuing good work once you're able." Alessandro smiled slightly. "And by telling the other workers that the countess takes care of people. Word of mouth is valuable."
After they left the cottage, having extracted promises that Marco would follow doctor's orders strictly, Lucia felt some of her tension dissipate. This, at least, was something she could manage properly.
"You're good at that," Alessandro observed as their carriage rolled back toward the villa. "Addressing concerns directly without making people feel like burdens."
"I spent three years managing tenant relations. You learn quickly that treating people like assets to be maintained rather than problems to be solved creates better outcomes." Lucia watched the countryside roll past. "My father's steward treated tenants like necessary inconveniences. After he was dismissed, I made a point of reversing that approach."
"It shows. Marco's wife looked ready to declare you a saint."
"I'm not a saint. I'm practical. A healthy, financially stable workforce is more productive than a desperate, struggling one." Lucia glanced at him. "Basic economic sense."
"See, you say that like it's obvious, but most estate managers don't think that way." Alessandro caught her hand. "You're remarkable. I hope you're starting to believe that."
Lucia felt heat creep up her neck. "I'm adequate."
"You're considerably better than adequate, and I'm going to keep telling you that until you believe it." Alessandro's thumb traced patterns on her palm. "Now, when we return, you're taking the afternoon off. No estate work, no crisis management, no systematically addressing problems."
"I have reports to review—"
"Which will still exist tomorrow. Today, you're resting." Alessandro's tone was firm. "You've been running on determination and anxiety for weeks. You need actual rest."
"I don't rest well. My mind keeps working."
"Then I'll distract your mind with something other than estate concerns." Alessandro's smile turned mischievous. "I'm quite good at being distracting when properly motivated."
"That's a very suspicious statement."
"It should be. I have ulterior motives." He leaned closer, his voice dropping lower. "Specifically, spending time with my wife without the weight of estate management hovering over us. Possibly involving the very comfortable library, excellent wine, and absolutely no discussion of crop rotation or drainage systems."
"That sounds dangerously like leisure."
"Terrifying, I know. But I think you can handle it." Alessandro's expression softened. "I want to just be with you, Lucia. Not the competent countess managing crises, just you. Is that acceptable within our current milestone parameters?"
Lucia considered the question seriously. They'd crossed several significant thresholds in the past day, shared physical intimacy if not actual consummation, established a level of emotional honesty that felt both terrifying and essential.
Taking an afternoon to simply enjoy each other's company seemed almost mundane by comparison.
"That's acceptable," she said quietly. "Though I reserve the right to discuss estate matters if inspiration strikes."
"Naturally. I wouldn't dream of completely suppressing your systematic tendencies." Alessandro grinned. "They're part of your charm."
"I don't have charm. I have competence and occasional ruthlessness."
"Same thing, as I keep telling you."
The library was indeed comfortable, all dark wood and leather chairs and windows overlooking the gardens. Alessandro poured wine while Lucia settled into a chair by the window, feeling her shoulders relax incrementally.
"Tell me something," Alessandro said, handing her a glass before settling in the chair opposite. "Something I don't know yet. Not about estate management or business, about you personally."
Lucia sipped her wine, considering. "I can't carry a tune to save my life. Teodora got all the musical talent in our family. When we were children, she'd sing and I'd handle the accounts for her music teacher."
Alessandro laughed, surprised and delighted. "You managed accounts for your sister's music lessons?"
"Someone had to ensure the teacher wasn't overcharging. Father certainly wasn't paying attention." Lucia smiled at the memory. "The teacher tried to increase his rates midway through the year. I presented him with comparative market rates and a detailed breakdown of his actual costs versus charges. He lowered his prices."
"How old were you?"
"Eleven, I think? Twelve?" Lucia shrugged. "I found account books more interesting than dolls. Teodora thought I was peculiar."
"Teodora wasn't wrong, but peculiar is far better than conventional." Alessandro set down his wine and moved to sit on the arm of her chair. "I was peculiar too. Spent my youth reading shipping manifests instead of attending balls. My father despaired of me ever becoming a proper aristocrat."
"Did that bother you? His disapproval?"
"Initially. Then I realized I'd rather be successful in ways that mattered to me than acceptable in ways that mattered to him." Alessandro's hand found her hair, fingers combing through the black strands absently. "He died disappointed, but I built something real. That's worth more than his approval would have been."
Lucia leaned back against him slightly, allowing herself the comfort of contact. "Your stepmother hasn't forgiven you for that choice."
"My stepmother hasn't forgiven me for existing, honestly. I was a reminder that my father loved someone before her." Alessandro's voice was matter of fact rather than bitter. "She tried to mold me into the son she wanted instead of accepting the one she got. When that failed, she resented me instead."
"That must have been lonely."
"It was. Until I found business and discovered I was actually good at something." His fingers stilled in her hair. "Then I met you and discovered partnership could be something more than transaction."
Lucia twisted to look up at him properly. "This got serious very quickly."
"You asked me to be honest about my feelings. I'm attempting honesty." Alessandro's expression was open, vulnerable in a way that made her chest tight. "Though if you'd prefer lighter conversation—"
"No. This is good." Lucia caught his free hand. "I'm not accustomed to people being this direct about emotional things. It's unnerving but not unwelcome."
"Unnerving but not unwelcome. I'll take that as progress." Alessandro leaned down and kissed her forehead. "Now, tell me about your mother. You've mentioned her death but never discussed who she was."
So Lucia did, finding words for memories she rarely examined. Her mother's laugh, her practical wisdom, the way she'd managed household and husband with competence until illness took her suddenly.
Alessandro shared memories in return. His father's stern expectations, his uncle Giorgio's unexpected support, the loneliness of childhood in a house full of people who didn't understand him.
Hours passed in conversation that drifted from serious to silly and back again. At some point, Lucia relocated from her chair to Alessandro's lap, finding that position considerably more comfortable for extended conversation.
"This is nice," she said eventually, her head resting against his shoulder. "Not thinking about crises or responsibilities. Just this."
"Just this," Alessandro agreed, his arms tightening around her. "We should do this more often. Schedule leisure time like it's estate business."
"That defeats the purpose of leisure."
"Not if scheduling it ensures it actually happens. Otherwise we'll both work constantly and forget to enjoy anything." Alessandro pressed a kiss to her temple. "Besides, I'm discovering I quite like having my wife in my lap. Would be a shame not to repeat the experience regularly."
"That's a very self serving argument."
"I'm a very self serving person when it comes to spending time with you." He shifted slightly, settling them both more comfortably. "Though I should probably move before your legs lose circulation."
"My legs are fine." Lucia made no move to relocate. "Besides, moving requires effort."
"That's remarkably similar to your argument this morning about cuddling."
"It's a consistent philosophy. If I'm comfortable, moving is counterproductive."
Alessandro's laugh rumbled through his chest. "My practical, systematic wife who applies logical analysis to affection. I adore you."
The words hung in the air, casual but significant. Lucia felt her breath catch.
"That's," she started, then stopped. "That's a very significant statement."
"Is it? I meant it casually." But Alessandro's voice had gone careful. "Should I not have said it?"
"I don't know. We're only a month into this partnership. Adoration seems premature."
"Adoration can be premature and still accurate." Alessandro's hand moved to cup her face, tilting it up so she had to meet his eyes. "But if it makes you uncomfortable, I'll keep such sentiments to myself."
Lucia searched his expression, looking for performance or manipulation. She found only sincerity and a hint of vulnerability.
"Don't keep them to yourself," she said quietly. "Just, give me time to catch up. I'm not accustomed to someone actually meaning affectionate statements."
"Then I'll say them frequently until you're accustomed to it." Alessandro smiled, soft and genuine. "Starting now. I adore your systematic approach to feelings. I adore how you attacked household management like a military campaign. I adore that you're sitting in my lap discussing whether affection requires logical justification."
"You're being ridiculous."
"I'm being honest." He kissed her, brief and sweet. "Now, are we staying in this library forever, or shall we face dinner with appropriate dignity?"
"Dinner sounds practical." But Lucia didn't move. "Though perhaps five more minutes of completely impractical behavior first?"
"Five minutes of impractical behavior. I can work with that." Alessandro settled back, pulling her closer. "Your systematic scheduling of spontaneity continues to delight me."
"Someone has to maintain structure, or we'd descend into complete chaos."
"Heaven forbid we experience complete chaos." But Alessandro was smiling against her hair. "My extraordinary, occasionally terrifying, systematically affectionate wife. I wouldn't trade you for anything."
Lucia closed her eyes and allowed herself to simply feel, without analysis or concern about whether she was progressing through milestones appropriately.
This, she realized, was happiness.
Complicated, unplanned, entirely different from what she'd anticipated when she'd written that newspaper advertisement weeks ago.
But happiness nonetheless.
And perhaps, she thought with cautious optimism, the beginning of something even more significant than a successful business partnership.