The villa was even more impressive up close. Lucia stood in the entrance hall, craning her neck to examine the frescoed ceiling while Alessandro conferred with the housekeeper, a formidable woman named Signora Alberti who'd been with the family for thirty years and had opinions about everything from dinner schedules to proper bed linens.
"Your rooms are prepared, my lord, my lady," Signora Alberti announced. "Supper will be served in an hour. I've taken the liberty of preparing something light, as you've been traveling."
"Perfect. Thank you, Signora." Alessandro turned to Lucia. "Shall I show you upstairs? You'll want to refresh yourself before dinner."
Lucia followed him up a sweeping marble staircase, acutely aware of servants appearing and disappearing efficiently. Everyone was watching her, the new countess, the Venetian nobody who'd somehow married their master. She could feel the weight of their assessment.
"They're curious," Alessandro said quietly, as if reading her thoughts. "Not hostile. You'll win them over within a week."
"How can you be certain?"
"Because you're competent and fair. That's all most people want in an employer." He pushed open a heavy wooden door. "Here. Your chambers."
The room was beautiful with high ceilings, tall windows overlooking the vineyards, furniture that managed to be both elegant and comfortable. A large bed dominated one wall, draped in deep blue silk that matched the upholstery. Fresh flowers sat on a side table, and someone had unpacked her trunk, arranging her belongings with care.
"The connecting door is there." Alessandro indicated a door in the far wall. "My rooms are on the other side. The lock is on your side only—you control access completely."
Lucia examined the door, noting the substantial lock and key. A clear boundary, easily maintained or crossed as she chose.
"That's... thoughtful."
"I meant what I said yesterday. No expectations, no pressure." Alessandro remained near the entrance, respecting her space. "Take whatever time you need to settle. I'll meet you downstairs for supper when you're ready."
After he left, Lucia moved to the windows, pushing them open to let in the evening air. The view was spectacular—hills rolling into the distance, vineyards turning purple in the twilight, the city of Verona glowing in the valley below. Out there was the southern section with drainage problems, the olive groves needing new presses, the tenant farms requiring renegotiated contracts.
Her responsibility now.
The thought should have been daunting. Instead, she felt energized.
A knock sounded. "My lady? I'm Paola, your maid. Signora Alberti assigned me to assist you."
Lucia opened the door to find a young woman, perhaps twenty, with intelligent eyes and a practical demeanor. "Come in, Paola. Tell me honestly, is Signora Alberti terrifying or merely intimidating?"
Paola's eyes widened, then she smiled. "Both, my lady. But fair. If you do your work properly, she'll defend you against anyone."
"Good to know." Lucia gestured toward her traveling dress. "I need something appropriate for informal supper. Nothing elaborate, we're not entertaining."
"The green silk, perhaps? It's elegant but comfortable." Paola moved to the wardrobe with the confidence of someone who knew her job. "May I ask a question, my lady?"
"Of course."
"Is it true you managed your family's estate? That you dismissed a steward for embezzlement?"
Lucia studied the girl. "Where did you hear that?"
"The staff talk. Word came from Venice with your trunks." Paola's expression was cautious but curious. "Some of the older servants think you'll be too... forceful. But I think it's impressive. A woman who knows accounts."
"I know accounts because no one else was managing them properly." Lucia began unpinning her hair, wincing as the day's traveling took its toll. "Tell the staff this—I'm fair, I'm competent, and I don't tolerate theft or incompetence. But I reward good work and loyalty. Is that clear enough?"
"Very clear, my lady." Paola's smile widened. "I'll make sure everyone understands."
Twenty minutes later, Lucia descended the stairs in the green silk, her hair re-pinned in the softer style that still felt foreign but was growing familiar. Alessandro waited in the entrance hall, changed into fresh clothes, his hair still damp from washing.
"Better?" he asked.
"Cleaner, certainly." Lucia took his offered arm. "Your housekeeper is formidable."
"Signora Alberti runs this villa like a military operation. Nothing escapes her notice." Alessandro led her through corridors lined with family portraits. "She'll test you within the first few days—something minor, just to see how you handle authority."
"What did she do to your stepmother?"
"Rearranged the furniture in every room without permission. My stepmother demanded she be dismissed. My father refused." Alessandro's tone held amusement. "They maintained cold civility for twenty years. I'm hoping you'll manage better."
"I'll manage by treating her like a valued employee rather than a subordinate to be controlled."
"See? You'll be fine."
The dining room was smaller than Lucia expected. Intimate rather than grand, with a table set for two near windows overlooking the gardens. Candles flickered in silver holders, and the scent of roasted meat and herbs filled the air.
"I told Signora Alberti we'd dine informally," Alessandro explained, holding her chair. "No need for excessive formality when it's just us."
They settled into dinner—roasted chicken with rosemary, fresh bread, vegetables from the estate's gardens, local wine that was genuinely excellent. Lucia found herself relaxing incrementally, the tension from traveling beginning to dissipate.
"Tell me about the tenants," she said between courses. "How many families, what are they growing, what's the general sentiment?"
Alessandro's expression brightened. He clearly appreciated her immediate focus on business. "Seventeen tenant families currently. Mostly wheat and vegetables, some maintain small vineyards. Sentiment has been... strained. The previous steward wasn't popular."
"Carlo. The embezzler."
"Exactly. He increased rents while letting property maintenance deteriorate. Several families considered leaving before I dismissed him." Alessandro refilled her wine. "They're cautious about you. Uncertain whether the new countess will continue his policies or change direction."
"I'll visit them. Within the week, if possible." Lucia's mind was already organizing logistics. "Meet each family, assess their situations, understand their concerns. Can't develop effective policy without accurate information."
"You want to visit tenant farms personally?"
"How else would I understand the actual conditions? Reports are useful, but seeing things directly is better." She paused. "Is that inappropriate? Does the countess not typically involve herself?"
"The previous countess—my father's wife—never set foot on tenant properties. Considered it beneath her dignity." Alessandro leaned back, studying her with that intense focus that made her pulse quicken. "But you're not her. Do what makes sense, not what's traditional."
"That's a dangerous philosophy for a count."
"It's the only philosophy that's worked for me." He smiled slightly. "Besides, I married a woman who advertised for a husband in the newspaper. Traditional ship sailed months ago."
"Fair point." Lucia returned his smile. "What about the southern section? The drainage issues?"
They spent the rest of dinner discussing estate improvements, debating approaches, occasionally arguing over details. Alessandro challenged her assumptions; she countered with data and logic. It was exhilarating having a partner who engaged rather than dismissed, who valued her expertise rather than feeling threatened by it.
"You're enjoying this," Alessandro observed as they finished the meal.
"Of course I am. This is what I'm good at." Lucia set down her napkin. "Problem-solving, optimization, systematic improvement. It's far more satisfying than pretending to care about fashion or gossip."
"Most women would find estate management tedious."
"Most women aren't given the opportunity to discover whether they'd find it tedious." Lucia met his gaze directly. "I was lucky or unlucky, depending on perspective. Circumstance forced me to develop skills most women never learn. I'm not going to apologize for being good at something just because it's unconventional."
"I'm not asking you to apologize. I'm admiring you for it." Alessandro stood, moving around the table to offer his hand. "Walk with me? The gardens are beautiful at night."
Lucia accepted, letting him lead her through French doors onto a terrace. The night air was cool, scented with jasmine and cypress. Stars scattered across the sky like spilled diamonds, and in the distance, Verona glowed softly.
"It's peaceful here," she said quietly.
"More peaceful than Venice. Fewer people, less politics, better air." Alessandro didn't release her hand. "I spent five years in Naples building my business. Every time I returned here, I remembered why I kept the estate despite the complications. It's worth the effort."
"And you think I'll feel the same?"
"I think you already do. I saw your face when we arrived, and you were already cataloging improvements, planning changes." He turned to face her properly. "You're not someone who maintains the status quo, Lucia. You see potential and you chase it."
"That's a generous interpretation of stubborn refusal to accept mediocrity."
"Same thing." Alessandro reached up, tucked one of the inevitably loosened strands of hair behind her ear. "Can I confess something?"
"That depends on what you're confessing."
"I was terrified when I answered your advertisement. Not of marriage—I'd accepted that necessity years ago. But of being trapped with someone who'd resent my absences, demand constant attention, make me choose between business and domestic obligations." His thumb brushed her cheek. "Then I met you and realized you wanted independence as much as I did. That was... liberating."
Lucia's breath caught at the intimacy of the gesture, the honesty in his voice. "I was terrified as well. That you'd agree to partnership but expect subordination. That I'd trade my family's oversight for a husband's control."
"And now?"
"Now I'm still terrified. Just differently." She let herself lean into his touch slightly. "This is more complicated than I planned for."
"The feelings?"
"The wanting. I wasn't supposed to want anything beyond the arrangement." Lucia forced herself to maintain eye contact despite the vulnerability. "But I find myself wanting to know you. Wanting you to return from Naples quickly when you leave. Wanting—" She stopped, uncertain how much to admit.
"Wanting what?" Alessandro's voice was soft, encouraging.
"Wanting to use that connecting door. Soon." The admission felt enormous, dangerous. "Not tonight, I need time to adjust to everything. But soon. That terrifies me because it wasn't part of the plan."
Alessandro's expression went warm and serious simultaneously. "Plans change. Agreements evolve. That's not failure, Lucia—it's adaptation."
"You're very understanding about my systematic approach to developing feelings."
"I'm pragmatic about recognizing that you need structure to feel safe." He leaned closer, his breath warm against her face. "I can work with structure. Set whatever milestones you need. I'll meet you at each one."
"Even if they're arbitrary and overcomplicated?"
"Especially if they're arbitrary and overcomplicated. That's very on-brand for you." His smile was soft. "Now, may I kiss you? Or is that outside tonight's parameters?"
Lucia answered by closing the distance between them.
This kiss was different from their wedding kiss. It was slower, deeper, less cautious. His hands moved to her waist, pulling her closer, and she let herself relax into it, let herself feel without immediately analyzing. When they finally broke apart, both breathing unevenly, Alessandro rested smiled.
"Milestone one?" he murmured.
"First week without murder. We've only completed day one."
"Strong start nonetheless." He pressed a brief kiss to her temple. "Come on. You should rest. Tomorrow Signora Benedetti arrives, and you'll want to be alert for planning estate improvements."
They walked back inside together, hands loosely linked. At the base of the stairs, Alessandro paused.
"I'm glad you're here," he said quietly. "In case that wasn't clear."
"It's becoming clear." Lucia squeezed his hand. "Goodnight, Alessandro."
"Goodnight, wife."
She climbed the stairs alone, acutely aware of him watching until she reached the landing. In her room, Paola had turned down the bed and left a lamp burning low. Lucia moved to the connecting door, running her fingers over the solid wood.
On the other side, she heard Alessandro moving around—footsteps, a door closing, the sound of water being poured.
Her husband. Her partner. Potentially something more if she could manage her terror long enough to let it develop.
The key sat in the lock, heavy and substantial. Insurance against pressure, proof of his sincerity about consent and boundaries.
She didn't turn it. Not tonight.
But soon, she thought. Soon.
***
Morning arrived with brilliant sunshine and an urgent knock on her door.
"My lady!" Paola's voice carried barely suppressed excitement. "Signora Benedetti has arrived. She's asking to meet with you and the count immediately."
Lucia dressed quickly in practical day clothes, a simple brown dress suitable for walking the property, and twisted her hair into its customary severe coil. The softer style could wait for social occasions. Today was business.
She found Alessandro and Signora Benedetti in his study, already surrounded by maps and documents.
"Countess Ferretti." Signora Benedetti rose, offering a respectful nod. "I've completed my preliminary assessment of the property. We need to discuss priorities."
"Excellent. Show me everything." Lucia moved to the desk, examining the annotated maps. "What's most urgent?"
For the next three hours, they discussed irrigation, crop rotation, tenant relations, and necessary repairs. Signora Benedetti was refreshingly direct, pointing out problems without sugar-coating and proposing solutions based on experience rather than theory. Alessandro contributed strategic perspective, asking questions about costs and timelines.
It was, Lucia realized with surprised pleasure, the most productive meeting she'd had in months.
"The tenant visits," Signora Benedetti said eventually. "When do you want to begin?"
"Tomorrow, if possible. I want to meet everyone quickly, establish relationships before implementing changes." Lucia consulted her notes. "How many can we reasonably visit in one day?"
"Four, perhaps five if we're efficient. Some farms are remote and requires significant travel." Signora Benedetti glanced between Lucia and Alessandro. "Will the count be joining us?"
"No," Alessandro said before Lucia could respond. "I need to prepare for my return to Naples. This is the countess's domain—she'll manage it as she sees fit."
Lucia felt a surge of gratitude for his immediate deference to her authority. "Then Signora Benedetti and I will go together. Paola can accompany us as well. Extra eyes are useful."
"Paola?" Signora Benedetti's eyebrows rose. "Your lady's maid?"
"She's intelligent and observant. She'll notice things I might miss." Lucia met the steward's gaze steadily. "Do you have objections?"
"None at all, my lady. I'm simply unused to... unconventional approaches."
"You'll find the countess specializes in unconventional approaches," Alessandro said dryly. "Better to adjust your expectations now."
They spent another hour finalizing plans before Signora Benedetti departed to prepare for tomorrow's visits. After she left, Alessandro moved to stand beside Lucia at the window.
"You're in your element," he observed.
"I am. This is what I'm meant to be doing." Lucia felt certainty settle in her chest. This had been the right choice, complications and all. "When do you leave for Naples?"
"In four days. I'll stay long enough to ensure you're settled, then return in six weeks." Alessandro's tone was carefully neutral. "Unless you need me to stay longer?"
"No. Go conduct your business. I'll manage here." Lucia turned to face him properly. "We're partners, remember? That means trusting each other to handle our respective responsibilities."
"I do trust you. Completely." Alessandro caught her hand. "But I'll miss this. Discussing problems together, debating solutions. Working alongside you is far more engaging than I anticipated."
"You'll have shipping manifests to keep you company."
"Significantly less interesting than my wife." He tugged her closer. "Promise me you'll write? Not just about estate business—about everything. I want to know how you're managing, what you're thinking."
"That's not part of our agreement."
"Consider it an amendment. Correspondence between business partners who happen to be married." His smile was warm. "Besides, your letters will probably include detailed accounts of confrontations with incompetent staff. I find your ruthlessness entertaining."
"I'm not ruthless. I'm efficient."
"You dismissed an embezzling steward with documented evidence and demands for partial restitution. That's textbook ruthlessness." Alessandro's thumb traced circles on her palm. "I'm counting it as one of your more attractive qualities."
Lucia felt warmth bloom in her chest. Very dangerous, very inconvenient, and entirely too significant. "You have strange criteria for attraction."
"I have practical criteria. Intelligence, competence, willingness to challenge assumptions—those matter far more than conventional beauty." He paused. "Not that you're not beautiful. You are. Especially when you're analyzing financial documents with that intense focus that suggests you're about to destroy someone's fraudulent accounting."
"That's... specific."
"I'm a specific person. We've established this." Alessandro pulled her properly into his arms. "Now, we have four days before I leave. How should we spend them?"
"Productively. Reviewing estate operations, meeting key staff, finalizing improvement plans—"
"Lucia. I meant us. How should we spend our remaining time together?"
She looked up at him, at the amber eyes that somehow saw her completely—both the competent estate manager and the terrified woman attempting to navigate unexpected feelings.
"Carefully," she said quietly. "Moving forward but not rushing. Building something sustainable rather than something that burns out quickly."
"Sustainable. I can work with that." Alessandro pressed a kiss to her forehead. "Milestone one is nearly complete. We've survived three days without murder."
"Four more days until you leave. Plenty of time for homicide if you become insufferable."
"I'll endeavor to remain sufficiently bearable." His arms tightened around her. "For the record, I'm glad I answered that advertisement. Even with all the complications."
"Especially with the complications," Lucia corrected. "Simple would have been boring."
"Exactly." Alessandro smiled against her hair. "My extraordinary, systematic, occasionally terrifying wife. I wouldn't trade this for anything."
Lucia let herself relax into his embrace, let herself feel the warmth and safety of it without immediately retreating behind practicality.
Four more days, then six weeks apart while he managed Naples and she managed Verona.
It would be a test of this fragile, complicated thing building between them.
But tests, Lucia thought, were something she'd always been rather good at passing.