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Leo jumped down from the carriage even before it had come to a complete halt and as a result he almost pitched headlong onto the gravel drive. Managing to catch himself he ran to enfold the waiting Vanessa in a hug. Nico grinned, almost bouncing with excitement. Giuliano stood nearby, stoic, no doubt resigned to Leo's presence.

"Oh, Leo," Vanessa said, clutching him tightly. "I missed you. We missed you so much."

Leo drew back, lip quivering in sympathy with the tears in Vanessa's eyes. "I missed you too."

Nico took his turn for a hug before Giuliano cleared his throat and gestured before Leo could attempt any such intimacy with him. "Let's go inside."

Leo followed them into the impressive house and to a sitting room. A woman was waiting with a child in her arms. She bobbed a curtsy to Leo before Vanessa took the baby.

"This is Giulio," Vanessa said, displaying him for Leo's benefit. Leo tickled the baby under his chin. "If you had been back sooner, you could have been his godfather."

Leo caught the hint of annoyance. "Sorry. Zo and I stopped off in Falmouth and in fact Zo stayed behind because he had some items to trade. He said he'll join us eventually," Leo said. "I think he'd rather just go on to London though. You know how he feels about the countryside."

Nico nodded and Vanessa sighed. "You won't get bored just yet, will you Leo?"

"I promise I will stay put for a while." He beamed at her. "Talking of trade, I brought gifts. Chocolate, and American whiskey, and some clothing and bric-a-brac. Oh, there might be a wooden horse that Giulio would like. I'm sure I'll find more things when I unpack."

Vanessa handed Giulio back to the nanny, and the woman left with the child. Giuliano excused himself too, leaving Leo with his friends.

"Let me look at you properly," Vanessa said, eyeing Leo. "You looked tanned. The sea voyage agreed with you, then. And your hair is so long now. You must let me brush it."

"Anything you want of me," Leo said. "I missed you both terribly. I had Zo with me, and we had some fantastic adventures in the New World, but I am truly glad to be home."

Tea was served and Leo recounted a few of his tales and some of the marvellous sights he'd seen – when he unpacked his notebooks he would show them his sketches – and all about the inventions he'd witnessed and the ideas he'd had.

"Your father meant for you to settle down," Nico observed, sipping from a china cup. "Yet I think you've come back more excitable than ever."

"My father just wanted me out of sight for a while, until the scandal died down," Leo retorted. "America was just the furthest civilised place he could think of to send me. Anyway, what's been going on here? Tell me all your gossip."

"A duchess does not gossip," Vanessa said archly, but with a smile. "She merely takes polite interest in her neighbours."

Leo laughed. "And what has one noticed in her polite interest?"

Vanessa and Nico took turns bringing Leo up to date.

"Oh, and of course Lucrezia went home in disgrace to Rome," Vanessa said, with a stern look at Leo. "The house was empty for some time, but a few months ago her uncle, Alessandro della Rovere arrived and took up residence there with his son."

"Girolamo Riario," Nico put in.

"Different name?" Leo had never quite got his head around the way titles worked or names were passed along and since people were not nearly as interesting as mechanical objects or scientific endeavours he'd never bothered to put in the effort to remedy this.

Vanessa nodded. "Born out of wedlock," she said in hushed tones. "Raised as Alessandro's nephew until recently, or so I understand, but when Riario somehow earned himself the title of Count, Alessandro claimed him as his rightful heir."

"A count?" Leo snorted. "I suppose he's a young damned goose."

"Leo! You are back in England now, among polite company," Vanessa scolded. "I am accustomed to your coarseness but if you talk like that at dinner parties you'll be ostracised."

Leo grinned. "I met someone in America who was going to import ostriches. They're good for eating," and he pulled a face, "but also racing. No, honestly, you can ride them!"

"Don't change the subject," Vanessa said. "You know I said ostracised and what it means. Some of us care about our reputations!"

"I understand. I'm not to call Count whatever his name is a nincompoop or hobbledehoy," Leo said obediently.

She sighed. "Riario is no awkward youth. He is of a similar age as you," she said. "Similar height too, but that is where the similarities end."

"Go on," Leo said, strangely intrigued by Lucrezia's cousin.

"His hair is dark, where yours is not only somewhat longer but much fairer," Vanessa said, running her eyes once more over Leo's sun-burnished locks. "And he's pale."

"I maintain he looks so ghostly because he only ever wears black," Nico put in. "As if he's in permanent mourning."

Vanessa nodded. "Some say he has a dark secret but people will invent gossip. I think it is because he is so reserved that people feel he must be hiding something."

"He's aloof? Superior?"

"No," Nico said. "No one could ever accuse him of being impolite. On the contrary he can be almost obsequious."

"He never truly smiles," Vanessa said. "Just half-smiles that never reach his eyes. I've never heard him laugh or even recount an amusing story."

Leo wondered if it was Riario's natural demeanour, which would be off-putting, or if something had happened to make him so melancholy.

"He's rather like a clergyman," Nico offered, "except I've known many a cheerful cleric. Riario is not your type, Leo. Not gregarious and sensual."

"You'll see for yourself," Vanessa said, "if he and his uncle accept our invitation."

"What invitation?"

Nico laughed. "You don't think we'd let you return without a welcome home ball, do you?"

"That's not necessary," Leo protested, adding in case they took him at his word, "but by all means bring on the feasting and let's liven up this place so even Zo would find it interesting!"

Leo enjoyed being the centre of attention, but he didn't feel he'd earned it at the moment. Surviving his temporary banishment to America and the voyage back home wasn't an accomplishment the way creating a painting or a device was.

Still there was food and drink, and people were being friendly, so he smiled and nodded his way around the guests, some of whom he knew a little, others he didn't know at all.

Then his gaze fell upon a man standing near the french windows and his heart skipped a beat.

Darkly handsome with huge brown eyes and a hawk nose, the man had cheekbones you could cut yourself on. The dark hair, swept to one side at the front, and tied into a short neat ponytail at the nape of his neck, caught Leo's attention briefly, and the elegant black frockcoat probably cost more than Leo spent on clothes in a year.

Caring nothing for social mores, Leo boldly walked over to the man and stuck out his free hand, the other still nursing a drink. "I don't believe we've met. My name is Leonardo da Vinci."

The man gave him a long, appraising look. When he spoke, his voice was low and rough, a throaty sound that thrilled Leo down to his bones. "Then this gathering is in your honour." He shook Leo's hand.

"It is."

"And you are the man who humiliated my cousin."

Leo's mouth fell open. About his height, wearing all black? Too late he realised his mistake. "Count Riario."

One of those half-smiles Vanessa had mentioned quirked the man's lips. "You have heard of me."

"Not from Lucrezia," Leo said, still wondering what proper English etiquette these days said about apologising to the cousin of the woman you'd once been engaged to, especially when you were not actually sorry about breaking it off with her. "She never mentioned you."

Riario lifted one shoulder in a half-shrug. "We were never close. She apportions blame to me for an incident that was not my fault."

"I didn't mean to humiliate Lucrezia," Leo said. "I should have been more discreet when I broke off the engagement but I was furious and I allowed my emotions to get the better of me."

Riario blinked lazily. "To be overcome can happen to anyone," he said softly and there was something in his tone that tugged at Leo, some hint of sadness or remorse.

Leo didn't get to ponder that or push Riario for details because Nico chose that moment to hurry over.

"My Lord," Nico said, inclining his head to Riario, who repeated the gesture in kind. "Leonardo, this is Count Riario."

"We've met," Leo said.

Nico looked at each of them in turn, as if assessing how likely it was a duel might break out.

"I understand you're from Italy," Leo said, trying to prove to Nico that he could be a polite member of society when he chose to be. "How are you finding England?"

"It's a little damp," Riario said, "but verdant. I like it well enough."

"I had not realised until I was back here how much I missed it," Leo said wistfully. "I saw some incredible sights in America but there is no place like home. I made so many sketches but by the end of the year I was drawing the London skyline and the rolling hills of the English countryside from memory."

Riario gave him a look that Leo interpreted as sympathetic.

"I'd love to sketch you," Leo blurted out. Riario looked startled and Nico grabbed at Leo's elbow.

"Let me introduce you to Miss Price," Nico said, barely concealing his desperation and marched Leo away.

"I met her already. I think she dislikes me," Leo protested once they were out of earshot of Riario. A glance over his shoulder showed him that Riario had returned to staring out of the window, but his heart jumped when, as if sensing Leo's eyes on him, Riario turned to meet his gaze, the hint of a smile gracing his lips.

"We gave you a description," Nico said later, when everyone else had gone home and they were seated quietly in the sitting room.

"You didn't warn me he was so handsome," Leo protested.

Vanessa, bouncing Giulio on her knee, sighed. Giuliano, sitting alongside her, rolled his eyes.

"So you want to sketch him?" Nico demanded.

"What harm could it do?" Leo asked.

"That is how it began with Lucrezia Donati and see how that turned out." Nico folded his arms. "I know that look. You think you want to sketch him, but you want far more than that."

Leo shrugged. "What if I do?"

"Haven't you done enough damage to that family?" Vanessa asked.

Leo contrived to look hurt. "What about what they've done to me? Lucrezia was spying on me. Stealing my work! Selling my sketches and inventions. If the prototype she stole from me hadn't exploded I might never have known."

"All the more reason to stay away from Riario," Nico pointed out. "He's probably cut from the same cloth."

Leo shook his head. Riario was something different entirely, he'd sensed that the second he'd laid eyes on him.

"He is from a noble family," Giuliano pointed out, "and you are not."

It was true but Leo would not pay him any mind. His friends would not like it, but Leo was determined to attempt to woo Riario, or at last discover why he looked so haunted, to uncover the count's secrets the way Leo always discovered things. He would take something to pieces and tinker until he understood how it worked, and then put it back together, sometimes improving on the original design.

But people weren't toys, some part of his mind tried to tell him. Sometimes you can't put them back together, especially if they've been badly broken.

Leo was wandering the estate, looking for inspiration. He heard the horse approach but paid it no mind until Riario hailed him.

"Good morning," Leo returned, running a keen eye over Riario's horse. "That's a beautiful creature."

Riario tipped his head, pleased by the flattery. "Andalusian," he said, running one gloved hand over the stallion's mane. "I'm taking him out for a good run, out to the lake and back."

He didn't seem cross about the previous evening, Leo noted.

"It's a nice day for a ride. I came for a walk, hoping for some ideas." Leo shrugged. "I thought I would feel inspired when I came back to England but I can't seem to focus on anything." He stepped forward, lifted one hand carefully and, when neither Riario nor his mount protested, rubbed at the horse's nose.

"I hope you find your muse soon," Riario said.

"Thank you." Leo looked up, squinting a little since the sun was behind Riario. "I'm sorry if I was too forward last night."

Riario considered him for a moment. "Not at all."

"My offer still stands," Leo said, taking a chance.

"I do not recall it," Riario said apologetically.

"I wished to sketch you," Leo said. It hadn't truly been an offer, but an expression of desire. He'd framed it as the former in the hopes of Riario being more likely to accept a gift than he would be to allow Leo any favours.

Riario frowned. "Amongst all this beauty you would waste your talents on me?"

"Such an image would not be a waste," Leo assured him, "nor devoid of beauty."

Riario's cheeks coloured. "Perhaps we can discuss it later?"

"Of course."

Leo watched as Riario rode away. He stuck his hands in his pockets and lifted his chin to the sky, basking in the sunlight, his spirits brightened by the chance encounter.

Leo begged Giuliano and Vanessa to invite Riario to dinner. Possibly to keep him quiet, Giuliano agreed.

"Be on your best behaviour," Vanessa told Leo, smoothing down the lapels on the jacket she was making him wear. "He is a count, he is our neighbour, and his father is powerful."

"Hmm," Leo said, a careful non-committal.

Dinner began as a subdued affair with polite conversation. Leo soon became bored and began asking impertinent questions. Vanessa, Giuliano, and Nico all attempted to deflect them but Riario seemed amused and answered every single one with what seemed like honesty.

To provoke more of a reaction Leo picked up his plate and shamelessly drank the dregs of the gravy.

"Leo!" Vanessa got to her feet horrified; Giuliano looked torn between anger and despair, while Nico covered his eyes with one hand.

Riario however began to laugh. He coughed into his napkin and composed himself but there had been no mistaking his mirth. He never truly smiles, never laughs, Vanessa had said and yet Leo had just proven he was more than capable of such feats.

Maybe Riario was laughing at the reactions of Leo's friends rather than at Leo's antics, but either way, Leo winked at him.

"It is not yet dark," Leo said, pushing back his chair. "Might I ask the count to accompany me on a short walk before we retire for drinks in the drawing room?"

Riario nodded. "You may," he said.

They wandered the gravel paths surrounding the herb gardens and ornamental ponds. Riario had one hand tucked behind his back, his posture stiff and formal. Leo tried to walk close by and wished he'd picked up a coat, for the evening air was chillier than he had anticipated even if Riario's noble blood either kept him warm or prevented him from admitting to something so common as feeling the cold.

"I do want to sketch you," Leo said as they paused near the lake to admire the setting sun, the horizon a flourish of red and orange against a backdrop of greys and blues.

"If I acquiesce will you cease your pursuit of me?" Riario's tone was soft, almost teasing.

"If you acquiesce we will have to spend more time together and I will not need to pursue you."

Riario smiled. "Then it is agreed. Father wishes me to have a new portrait anyway. He plans to renew his endeavours to find me a spouse."

Leo caught the sadness in his tone. "You don't wish to marry?"

Riario lifted one shoulder. "I have never met anyone I wished to wed."

That was a lie, Leo thought. He could be good at reading people when he tried, which was only when they interested him, and he was captivated by Riario.

"Nor I," Leo said, and he was telling the truth. "I'm still not sure how I found myself engaged to Lucrezia Donati in the first place and even without what happened between us, I doubt we would have gone through with the marriage. But I would woo you, if you will allow it."

Riario blinked a few times.

"I know I'm not a nobleman," Leo began, "but my father is a well-respected gentleman, and if he thinks I'm going to settle down he'll do anything to ensure it, including begging a favour from one of his patrons to bestow a title on me."

"No," Riario said. "You cannot. And it has nothing to do with your nobility or lack thereof."

"Lucrezia? Is it because of what happened with your cousin? Because I was the wronged party, more so than her," Leo began hotly.

Riario reached out and squeezed Leo's shoulder. "No," he said again. "It has nothing to do with Lucrezia either."

"What then? Why won't you let me woo you? Don't you like me, even a little?"

Riario shook his head ruefully. "Let us go inside," he said, and Leo couldn't find a good reason to protest.

Leo hated Riario's father on sight, not least because it was obvious Alessandro felt the same way about him. Alessandro gave him a cold smile that put Leo in mind of a predator eyeing its prey, and he managed to speak politely yet with insults embedded in every other word. He'd seen some of Leo's works displayed in some houses (commoner ones, Leo translated in his head) and he thought Leo might do a reasonable job with a portrait of his handsome son, Girolamo.

Leo saw how Riario, usually so self-assured, shrank under the shadow of his father's presence. He hated that about Alessandro too.

Thankfully Alessandro had a meeting to attend and left shortly afterwards, leaving Leo and Riario to settle to their work in a sunny drawing room. Leo tried to get Riario seated in the best place for the light, a position that would show off his profile.

They kept their conversation light and sparse as Leo began his initial sketches.

"That's enough," Leo said, mindful of how long Riario had been sitting still when his own muscles protested as he straightened up. "I'll come back tomorrow."

Riario nodded. Leo had been hoping for more but Riario was subdued.

"I have had a thought; Giuliano's garden would make a wonderful backdrop," Leo said, packing away his materials. "Far more appealing than this room. Why don't you come to us tomorrow?"

A genuine smile crossed Riario's lips. "If you insist," he said, his tone one of relief and not an off-hand acceptance.

"I do."

Leo whistled as he walked home, not caring about the mud or crossing the stiles, even encumbered as he was with his art supplies. He'd guessed right, then. Riario's reaction to the offer of a new location had proved it. Riario didn't like that house or his father. Was it a lack of affection though, or a genuine dislike of the man, or outright fear? Alessandro was a formidable man, though it took a lot more than a hefty older gentleman wearing a lot of jewellery to intimidate Leo.

It was something else he would have to discover about Riario. Maybe his relationship with his father was the reason for the mournful countenance Nico had first spoken of. Leo would find out soon enough. He would find out everything in time.

Their next session was much more pleasant. Vanessa came outside to watch them for a while, taking the air with Giulio in her arms. Nico stole treats from the kitchen and shared them with the artist and his subject. Even Giuliano made an appearance and gave reluctant praise for Leo's work.

"Perhaps I shall commission a family portrait from you," he said and Leo nearly fainted at this unexpected turn of events, or so he later confided to Nico with some minor exaggeration involved.

When it was again time to take a break, Leo suggested they go riding after lunch and Riario agreed. Leo thought the ride might give them a chance to talk, far away from the prying eyes and sharp ears of either of their households.

However Riario set a brisk pace and they raced back from the lake, giving little time for conversation, though Leo got to admire Riario's horsemanship as well as demonstrate his own.

On their return Leo said, "It's a warm day. Why don't you roll your sleeves up? I'm not painting your clothing at the moment."

Riario gave him a look of panic which was rapidly replaced by a cool demeanour. "I think not," he said. Leo let the matter rest, and the next few hours passed all too soon before Riario took his leave.

This routine continued for a few days. Riario would join Leo for some work on the painting, they'd eat lunch, then go for a brisk ride or a short walk around the estate. And Riario always had his arms completely covered. It hadn't seemed odd until his immediate refusal but now this detail nagged at Leo.

"I have something to show you," Leo told Riario one day.

It was a device of his own invention, a bird-scarer. It involved various mechanisms to trigger the device if a bird got too close, though Leo wanted to also incorporate a means of discharging random shots.

When the device went off with rather more boom than he'd intended, Leo lay dazed on the grass, his ears ringing, and wished he'd been more frugal with the gunpowder.

He rolled over. "Riario?" he called.

Riario was sitting up nearby, looking as dazed as Leo felt, with blood pouring down one cheek.

Leo got to his feet, wincing at the protest from one wrist when he put weight on it. "Come on," he yelled, his ears still ringing. "Let's go inside."

Vanessa was her usual combination of concerned, angry, and disappointed whenever one of Leo's inventions did not go to plan.

She bandaged Leo's sprained wrist, telling him he was making their household seem disreputable. Riario sat on another kitchen chair, holding a cloth to his face.

"Does this mean you cannot continue with the portrait?" Riario asked.

"I can use both hands equally well," Leo assured him. He also told Vanessa he would personally tend Riario's injuries and she left the kitchen, muttering uncharitably.

Riario winced as Leo bathed the wound, Leo tipping his chin slightly, and holding onto Riario's jaw for longer than was strictly necessary.

"Hold still. There. I don't think it will scar," Leo said. "I'll leave it out of the portrait anyway. Unless you would have it otherwise. Some people find scars quite dashing. The mark of heroism."

"It was hardly heroic," Riario said. "Though I must admit the demonstration was exciting."

"You could always lie about how you came by the injury." Leo put aside the cloth. "Are you all right, aside from the cut?"

"I believe so." Riario leaned back in his chair. "I have an idea why your bird-scarer exploded. May I explain it to you?"

It was rare that anyone asked Leo's permission to tell him how much of a disappointment he was or how he'd gone wrong this time. Rarer still that people wanted constructive input into his inventions even if everyone thought themselves an art critic.

"Of course," Leo said, and as Riario haltingly pointed out the now obvious flaw, Leo's estimation of him rose. Riario wasn't just a handsome noble, he was intelligent and not easily rattled.

Leo threw himself back into the bed, the borrowed silk dressing robe flying open, and unsealed the letter which the maidservant had delivered to his room along with his morning cup of chocolate. The luxury was enticing. Leo could be happy in a leaky shack if he was inspired enough to lose sight of all else while he worked on a project, but in truth he, like anyone else, preferred to be warm and dry, and he could honestly get used to living in a well maintained house with a bevy of servants at his beck and call.

My dearest Leo, the letter read. Leo leaned back into the pillows and grinned. The handwriting was immediately recognisable. Zo always had wonderful stories to share and this letter turned out to be no exception.

After hoping that Leo had managed to get to Vanessa unscathed, without wandering into trouble along the way, and sending his love to Vanessa, Nico, and even Giuliano as well as the new baby, Zo launched into a tale of his own adventures since he and Leo had parted at Falmouth.

Things had been going smoothly for some time and initially trade had been good, but Zo had quickly tired of the small town and the smell of fish and headed off back up to London, just as Leo had predicted.

Within a week Zo had met up with his old friend Amerigo, who was himself looking for a new start having had to run from the authorities in Portsmouth, where he had been accused of the selling of counterfeit maps that he had allegedly (which Leo took to mean definitely had) suggested might lead to treasure.

Zo and Amerigo had started up a business selling various beverages. And perhaps the Malmsey wine wasn't truly authentic, and perhaps the sugar they purchased hadn't been fully subject to taxation, and perhaps some of their drinks had a little more than the allowable amount of water in them, but they had been successful for a short time.

Then a raid on their waterside premises had led to Zo and his friend having to jump into some recently emptied and still rather damp barrels and bob along to safety, though a squall had nearly put paid to them both and they'd washed ashore rather bruised and remorseful. Zo had, he reported, stunk of stale beer for weeks following the incident, though his hair had been in such good condition afterwards that, once they were settled in Kent, Amerigo had started bottling up weak beer in pretty, though cheaply obtained, glass bottles and selling it as a hair tonic.

The letter ended with a promise to write again soon, providing that Zo hadn't been imprisoned by then, or had to flee the country, or instead showed up on Vanessa's doorstep with some conciliatory hair tonic to soothe Giuliano's disdain at yet another commoner showing up to darken his doorstep.

Leo laughed until he had to blink tears of mirth away. He missed Zo, and at that thought, he sobered. He truly did miss Zo. He missed getting into mischief with Zo and his madcap schemes that rivalled Leo's own. He missed Zo's loyalty and warmth, his easy humour, his lack of prejudice, and his overall tolerance. When even Vanessa was furious with Leo, when even Nico was tired of his behaviour, Zo was always there to lend a hand, an ear, a shoulder to cry on, or a glass of wine - though hopefully not a counterfeit one.

In fact the only people Zo disliked were the rich, not only on general principle, but a result of many past experiences. He made allowances for Giuliano because Vanessa loved him and therefore he must not be completely terrible, but he would hate Alessandro as much as Leo did. He'd also dislike Riario and that gave Leo a pang of regret.

Surely Zo could come to accept Riario as he had Giuliano. Leo frowned and chewed at his lower lip. It would not do for Leo's dearest friend to be at odds with his beloved.

He'd been fascinated by Riario the moment he'd laid eyes on him. In fact he'd been intrigued from the first mention of his name. And he'd vowed to uncover Riario's secrets. But somehow, somewhere, along the way Leo had moved from having an interest in the count to having feelings for Riario.

Until this moment he hadn't realised it but now he found it to be an inescapable fact. It was foolish, for Leo didn't know what lay beneath Riario's calm demeanour, what secrets hid behind his polite mask, and yet that didn't matter. Leo had done far more foolish things than this, and this might prove to be the most rewarding risk of all.

Leo was in love with Riario.

Leo soon stopped working on the portrait. Neither of them needed that justification to spend time together any longer, but the unfinished picture would serve as an excuse if anyone bothered them about their companionship.

Riario began to open up more about his past. His father had never been affectionate but had always been quick to anger, and to strike out. He had always been in control of Riario's life.

"If you marry and have your own household you could be free of him," Leo suggested.

"He will always be looking over my shoulder," Riario told him, his large eyes filled with sadness. "I shall never be free of him."

Leo didn't truly understand how much of a monster Alessandro was until the day he saw the evidence for himself.

They'd gone for a walk and Leo had taken Riario's hand as he always did now. At the top of a hill they sat down to enjoy the scenery and take a breather. Riario and Leo had both taken off their jackets and Leo had rolled up his shirt sleeves.

"No one will see if you dare to bare your flesh," Leo teased.

Riario looked at the ground. Leo moved closer, his knee touching Riario's. "Must I wed you in order to get you any further undressed, Girolamo?"

"I can never marry you," Riario said, choking the words out. "I could never risk your life that way."

"What do you mean?" Leo looked around as if there might be danger lurking in the nearby brambles.

Riario unfastened his cuffs and slid back the white linen sleeves. Leo's breath caught in his throat. Faded but unmistakable scars marred the skin at both Riario's wrists. Leo took one of Riario's hands in his, examining the marks.

"Girolamo. How?"

"Nothing heroic," Riario said bitterly. He refused to meet Leo's gaze.

"I will not judge you," Leo said.

Riario gave a shaky nod. "There was a woman," he said, and Leo didn't let go of his hand but he kept silent, needing to hear this confession though it was clearly still a terrible source of pain.

"She was a maidservant," Riario went on. "Her name was Zita. She was perhaps the only person I have ever cared about. At least, until you."

He looked over at Leo then, assessing how he was taking this. Leo gave him a nod of encouragement.

"My father could not countenance my marrying a servant," Riario said. "Especially when he blamed Zita's presence for my refusal to marry Caterina Sforza. He said it was my duty to marry well, and that my affections had no bearing on the matter. But I loved Zita and could not bear to make her a mistress while I married a terribly young girl whom I had no desire for."

Leo sighed, understanding the predicament. He'd seen this scenario play out amongst his more well-off friends and patrons many times.

"I had plans to visit a neighbour overnight," Riario said. "While I was away, my father ordered Zita to pack up and be gone the next day. When I returned the housekeeper told me how Zita had been chastised in front of the entire staff and, weeping, had gone to collect her things. I was furious and swore I would have her reinstated. But nothing could have prepared me for what I found upstairs."

He stopped, swallowed. Leo let go of Riario's hand. He moved to crouch in front of him. "If it's too difficult you don't have to speak of it," Leo said, desperate not to be the reason Riario relived this terrible event.

Riario shook his head. "I must tell you so that you can understand. I was the one to discover the body. Zita, dead in my bathtub. Both of her wrists slit, the water cold and bloody." He blinked away tears. "I do not know if she truly did kill herself, for it seemed unlikely to me then and now, or if my father had her murdered and staged a suicide. I believe it to be the latter but I can never prove it."

Leo found his own eyes welling up with sympathetic tears. "Girolamo," he said softly, placing his hands on Riario's knees.

"However she died it was my fault," Riario said distantly. "Because she loved me, and I loved her, but could not be with her. And living with that guilt, that heartbreak, well–" He gave a harsh laugh, gestured to one wrist.

Leo closed his eyes.

"To die as she did, my blood in the water in that same bathtub seemed appropriate. A grisly symmetry that would haunt my father, and any who heard of it and who might draw their own conclusions." Riario let out a deep sigh. "But one of the other servants found me. My father's physician bound my wrists and kept me alive against my will."

Leo's heart wrenched at the idea of Riario wanting so badly to die. Leo always had hope. He couldn't imagine choosing death, nor what pain could drive someone to desire it.

"My father threatened me with an institution," Riario went on dully, "but we both knew he'd rather see me dead, with rumours of an accident to cover the truth, rather than to leave me alive in such a place, to be a source of shame to the family if anyone discovered my whereabouts. So he promised that we would make a new start. That we would come to England. He even said that he would let me choose a spouse, an older woman or a man, still subject to his approval, but with far greater leeway than I had with regards to Caterina. Or Zita."

Riario paused, took a shuddering breath. "Yet I have since discovered our relocation was only for his benefit, his ambitions, and I am under no illusion that he will ever let me choose who to wed."

Leo shook his head, furious on Riario's behalf.

"So now you have seen my shame," Riario said, rolling his sleeves back down and regaining his composure. "And even if you can overlook my sin, you must see now why I cannot risk loving anyone ever again."

Leo all but threw himself into Riario's arms, hugged him tightly. "It is not shameful," he said fiercely. "You were hurt and had no-one to share that pain with. You took out that anger and guilt on yourself. I cannot reproach you, nor hold you in contempt. But I cannot let you go, Girolamo. I love you too much for that."

Riario pushed him away, stunned. "You must not say that! Don't you realise how dangerous my father is? Are you so dense that you don't realise Lucrezia must have been working for him when she stole from you?"

"I don't care. I love you," Leo retorted. "I love you. I love you and nothing you say can change that."

Riario stared at him with confusion. Leo grabbed at him again, kissed him roughly. He paused to gauge Riario's reaction. For a second Riario looked as if he were about to backhand Leo but then he kissed him back and there was a moment of struggle, each grappling with the other's clothing, each seeking to dominate the other with their kisses. The wrestling soon gave way to softer caresses and tender kisses.

Riario drew back first. "Leonardo. I love you too," he said, stumbling over the words. "But that is precisely why I cannot risk getting any closer. For both our sakes."

He walked away. Leo sat down on the grass and watched him go, his heart sinking. The count's secret had been darker than he'd imagined and Riario's father more of a monster than he'd realised.

Leo finally went home and, tearful, threw himself into Vanessa's arms. She held him, soothing him for many minutes before she could get a single word of sense out of him.

By this time Giuliano and Nico had joined them, anxious to see what was going on. Giuliano, having heard about the bird-scarer, was quite convinced Leo had destroyed something valuable or worse, killed Riario, and only when he was certain this was not the case did he stop pacing and sink into his favourite leather armchair.

Nico leaned against the fireplace, aware that Leo's passions ran deep and that the storm had to be waited out.

At last Leo was seated on the sofa next to Vanessa. He was clutching a china cup, the tea untouched, while Vanessa was still rubbing his back.

He told them everything. Afterwards he thought that these things were secret and private and he ought not to have revealed them, but in his anguish he had begun to explain in a disjointed manner that threw in all the facts and many theories and, truth be told, embellishments, darting from Lucrezia's betrayal to the move to England, to the body in the bathtub, and backwards and forwards all over again.

Giuliano leaned forward, expression grave. "Again," he said, the first time he'd ever asked Leo to elaborate rather than try to shut him up or constrain him into giving a one word unambiguous answer. "From the beginning and make more sense this time."

Nico nodded. Leo took a breath and started over. The walk, the scars, the story Riario had told him. Zita, Alessandro, Lucrezia, danger.

"I knew Alessandro was ambitious," Giuliano said, stroking his beard thoughtfully when Leo had finished the story for the second time. "And I've heard rumours of his cruelty. However I had no idea he was so despicable."

Leo nodded fervently. Giuliano was on his side. This was clearly some sort of heavenly sign because Giuliano was never on Leo's side on principle.

"Oh, Leo. What have you got yourself tangled up in this time?" Vanessa asked with a sigh. But she put her arm around his shoulders and squeezed him tightly.

"You can't let Alessandro keep ruining Riario's life," Nico said. "Have you seen what a good influence on him you've been? He actually smiles, Leo. We didn't think that was possible."

Giuliano nodded. "Much as it pains me to admit it, you have brought light into the count's life once more. I had no knowledge of his tragedy and now I do know of it I think I have judged him unfairly. He is not at all like his father."

Leo put aside his cold tea. "What do I do?"

"Do you love him?" Vanessa asked.

"Yes!"

Giuliano shook his head. "Do you truly love him? Not in the way you tend to love things, intensely for a short time before you tire of them and toss them aside, but with absolute devotion?"

"Things no longer useful and outworn ideas are what I toss aside," Leo said. "Not people I care about. And never him."

Giuliano looked to Vanessa and then back to Leo. "Do you wish to marry him?"

Leo got to his feet. "Yes. Yes, I do." To his own continued surprise, it was true.

Giuliano studied him, sizing up his sincerity. "I suppose even if you do tire of him at least by that time he will be free of his father," he said. "Very well. We will invite them both to dinner and attempt to broker a deal with Alessandro for Girolamo's hand."

Leo blinked a few times. "You would do that for me?"

"I will do it for you both," he said, "for love should not be denied." He glanced at Vanessa, adding, "And to keep peace in my house, for my wife will otherwise bring me constant tales of woe regarding the count until I relent."

He smiled at Vanessa however and she smiled back.

"Thank you," Leo said. Before Giuliano could protest, he threw himself at Giuliano, hugging him, and pressing kisses to both cheeks. "Thank you!"

"Enough," Giuliano said, firmly shoving Leo aside and brushing at his clothes, though there was a twinkle in his eye. "Get out of my sight before I change my mind!"

Leo nodded and ran from the room, giving a whoop of joy that echoed through the corridors. Giuliano raised his eyes heavenward but Vanessa came to embrace him and he melted at her touch.

Leo knew Riario's favourite routes and was waiting for him the next day when the count rode out towards the lake.

Riario dismounted and approached Leo, tugging off his leather gloves and toying with them. "What do you want?"

"You," Leo said without hesitation.

Riario's mouth opened before he clamped it shut and gathered himself. "Even after what I told you yesterday? The danger I pose?"

"Nothing you said made me love you less. And I am not easily frightened or discouraged," Leo said with a shrug.

Riario sighed. "Beyond that, I am not for the likes of you. Unlike your bird-scarer I am beyond repair."

"I don't believe that," Leo said, moving forward. "You've been hurt but you're not broken. You still feel. You are still capable of guilt, and love, and fear, and happiness. That you try to push me away to protect me proves how much you care."

Riario gazed into Leo's eyes as if seeking the truth. "I do not bestow my affections casually," he said throatily, with the hint of a challenge.

But Leo did, everyone knew that. So he didn't disagree, instead saying, "I understand. I respect that about you. It makes me feel special, that you would bestow them upon me."

Riario tipped his head. Leo got the impression he was wavering, that he wanted to be persuaded, and that gave him hope.

"They say you are unreliable," Riario said. "That you leave in your wake a trail of discarded projects and people."

Did he mean Lucrezia? He certainly thought he might be subjected to a similar rejection. Leo shook his head, desperate to reassure him. "Not those people who are important to me." He reached out, stroked Riario's lower lip with a feather-light touch. Riario shivered in delight. "You are important to me."

Riario clasped Leo's hand, held it in place. He pressed a kiss to Leo's thumb and then to his palm. "You are important to me too," he said, his voice rough.

Leo lifted his free hand and stroked Riario's now healed cheek. "Girolamo."

They were kissing again before either man had truly planned on doing so, urgent kisses that left them both breathless.

"You will come to dinner?" Leo murmured, his forehead resting against Riario's own.

Riario's fingers tightened against Leo's arm. "My father has already accepted the invitation. But we must be careful, Leonardo." He pulled away, gave Leo an imploring look.

Leo gave an insincere smile. He was many things but as he'd already told Riario, risk-averse was not one of them.

Alessandro was initially charming as they all sat down to dinner and Vanessa and Giuliano were being impeccable hosts. Riario was subdued. Leo was on his best behaviour. Nico was watching them all intently.

After social niceties, and general gossip, and recent political and business matters were addressed, Alessandro raised the issue of Riario's portrait which was still not completed.

"I have heard this is not unknown," Alessandro said, eyes on Leo. "That you frequently abandon projects and bring few things to fruition."

Leo would have been angrier if it were not mostly true. "Art is never completed," he said evenly. "As it is, the most important things are the ones I do release into the care of their new owners and I have had no complaints about any of those."

There was more relaxed conversation for a while. Dessert was served. Leo looked over at Giuliano and raised an eyebrow.

Giuliano cleared his throat. "It occurs to me that Leonardo is reluctant to complete the portrait because of the opportunity it has presented for him to spend time with your son."

Alessandro put down his spoon. "Indeed."

"I believe Leonardo has grown fond of him," Giuliano said.

Leo nodded. "I have."

Riario looked up, startled.

"And he feels the same way, don't you, Girolamo?" Leo met his gaze, gave him an encouraging smile.

"In fact, there has been discussion of the possibility of matrimony," Giuliano said.

Alessandro gave an ugly laugh. "What madness is this? My son is a count. Leonardo is a commoner. Fondness does not enter into it."

Vanessa glared at him. She had been born a commoner. Some creative family documentation alluding to very minor noble connections had been prepared by Nico with Giuliano's assistance and presented to Lorenzo. Lorenzo knew the documents were false but he also knew his brother was in love and would not abandon Vanessa, and so had accepted the lie.

They would have done something similar for Leo in advance of this meeting if had there been any chance Alessandro would allow the deceit.

"Leonardo's father is a well-respected gentleman," Giuliano said. "And Leonardo is held in esteem by my family."

Alessandro made a dismissive gesture. "My son will marry someone with a title equal to or greater than his own," he said. "Girolamo, have you been encouraging this foolishness? I thought you had learnt your lesson back in Italy."

Since Giuliano had broached the subject, Riario had been looking wretched. At the mention of Italy however, anger flashed in his eyes. "I have not encouraged him," he said. "But he is persistent and…"

"And?" Alessandro prompted.

Leo held his breath, fearing a denial. But Riario looked over at him and a smile spread across his face. "And I find myself deeply in love with Leonardo."

Alessandro's lip curled. "We will talk further on this when we return home," he said, his voice low and dangerous.

Riario shook his head. "There is nothing to discuss."

Alessandro hauled Riario to his feet and before anyone could react, slapped him across the face, first one cheek and then the other. Riario was younger, stronger, and could have easily defended himself, but he did not.

Leo moved to separate them; everyone was standing now.

"Enough," Giuliano roared, dropping his napkin like it was a gauntlet. "Release him!"

Alessandro tossed Riario aside. He stumbled, caught his balance, gave a sharp sob. Vanessa slipped one arm around the shaking Riario, and drew him further away from Alessandro while Leo placed himself between father and son.

"You dare to disrespect me?" Alessandro asked.

"You dare to disrespect my hospitality?" Giuliano returned. "I will not permit violence against a guest in my home."

Alessandro frowned. "You do not want to make an enemy of me."

"You are not the most powerful man in England. My brother's interests here are a match for your Italian influence." Giuliano gave a sneer. "Our families have never been friends and if you would have us be enemies then so be it. I will not see Leonardo belittled nor your son hurt for the sake of your pride."

There was a tense moment during which everyone was silent.

Alessandro gave a sharp laugh. "As you wish it." He snapped his fingers. "Come, Girolamo."

"No," Vanessa said, tightening her grip on him. "He stays with us."

Nico had surreptitiously picked up a fire poker. Leo approved because more violence seemed likely before this was over.

"Now, Girolamo," Alessandro said as if Vanessa had not spoken.

Riario shook his head numbly.

"You will regret this impudence," Alessandro swore. "All of you."

He swept out of the room. They heard him bellowing at the servant who was already in the process of handing him his coat. The heavy front door slammed and everyone relaxed.

"What have I done?" Riario asked, voice hoarse.

"Don't worry," Vanessa said. She kissed his hair. "You are under our protection now."

"You don't know what he is capable of."

Leo sighed. "We do. But sometimes you have to take a stand."

He gave a nod of thanks to Giuliano and then moved to take Riario from Vanessa, wrapping his arms tightly around the man he loved.

"I suppose I should have asked if you wanted to marry me," Leo said, holding him close.

"Surely you know the answer is yes," Riario said, muffled against Leo's shoulder.

As soon as everyone had gone to bed Leo let himself into the guest room. Riario was sitting at the dressing table, fully clothed, as if expecting him.

"Girolamo," Leo said. "Can we talk?"

Riario nodded. "We should."

"I am sorry. Events seemed to gather pace and spin out of my control."

"That happens frequently, I venture."

Leo gave a wry grin. "I do love you. I do want to marry you. I don't care much for the trappings of matrimony but if that is what it takes for us to be together I will gladly forswear all others. I want you to be safe from your father and I want you to be happy."

Riario stood and moved to caress Leo's cheek with his knuckles, running silky strands of long hair through his fingers. "I love you too," he said. "But I fear that my father will find a way to prevent our happiness."

"Do not fear," Leo said. "I have had plenty of practice in defending myself. I will not go down without a struggle if he sends people to murder me."

Riario sighed. "What sort of life is that, with us both looking over our shoulders constantly? And how can we risk putting your friends in danger? Giuliano, Vanessa, Nico, little Giulio?"

He was right but Leo would not be easily deterred.

"Then we'll run. Return to America. I made some friends there and they will help us start a new life."

Riario kissed him. "Oh, mio caro. You think everything is so easy to solve if you can just start over. As if my father's reach does not extend further than we can imagine."

"Then what do you suggest?"

Riario shrugged. "I do not know yet. Let me sleep on it. There may be a way we can persuade my father to let me go. Perhaps you can build him an invention that will satisfy him."

Leo kissed Riario back. "All right. But do you need to sleep at this moment?" He raised one suggestive eyebrow.

Riario gave a throaty laugh and bestowed upon him one final kiss. "Save something for our wedding night," he said softly and turned away, tugging at his cravat.

Dismissed, Leo went to his own room and fantasised about all the things he would do to Riario once they were married. He slept little, but he was not tired in the least when the dawn came with the promise of spending the day with the man he loved.

Riario left the house before anyone but the servants were awake. He walked home across the fields, thinking about what he would say to his father, if anything could convince Alessandro to let Leo live, let alone have Riario marry him.

If Leo would devise an invention for Alessandro, though a weapon would be the only thing Riario could imagine that would satisfy him, then Leo would have proven his worth enough to be allowed to survive. However Riario was Alessandro's only son, or at least the only son he had chosen to recognise. Alessandro needed Riario to marry a noblewoman or a titled man – and he would want Riario to be the one to sire a son with a willing courtesan in that latter scenario. Alessandro had an elevated opinion of himself and his bloodline.

Riario's mother was dead and the rumours were that she had been lowborn, which made it even more hypocritical for Alessandro to pressure Riario to marry well. It was all about appearances however; Alessandro didn't care if Riario slept with half of Hertfordshire nor begat a dozen bastards, so long as he wed an equal in status.

Riario waited for Alessandro in the dining room, pacing the wooden floorboards. He still had no idea how best to broach the subject.

"The prodigal son returns," Alessandro said when he at last came downstairs to breakfast and took a seat at the head of the table, dismissing the servants.

Riario bowed his head, hoping that his politeness might keep this discussion civil. "Father."

"So you've come to your senses," Alessandro said, a smug smile on his face as he picked up a napkin and flicked it open.

"If you mean have I forsaken Leonardo then no," Riario said. "I will marry him."

Alessandro's eyes narrowed. "It seems I should have put you in an asylum," he said. "Perhaps I still will."

"And bring shame on your family name?" It took every ounce of Riario's courage not to take a step back.

Alessandro considered this. He got to his feet. "You're right." He moved around the table and used his left hand to grab Riario's chin, twisting his neck cruelly. "If I am to be spared the shame of either a mad son or a son wed to a commoner, then it seems I must choose to embrace the tragedy of a dead son!"

Riario had not expected that. Would Alessandro truly rather be without issue than to see Riario free of his control? Alessandro's free hand clutched at Riario's throat. His father's grip was strong and Riario was now flung against the table.

There might be other sons out there, Riario remembered in his panic, fighting for breath. Alessandro was willing to toss him aside and start over. Even Leo wasn't that bloody minded. Leo had chosen Riario to be his constant, someone he would never throw away, no matter how broken.

Riario's hands clawed at Alessandro's fingers but his father had the strength of the insane, madness burning in his eyes.

This was it. Riario was going to die.

"Why couldn't you be obedient!" Alessandro was deaf to the sound of Riario choking, caught up in his rage. "Why did you not learn your lesson? Was it not enough I had to have that whore murdered? Must I murder this artist too?"

Zita. Alessandro truly had been behind her death, had finally admitted it. And called her a whore. And had threatened Leo.

Riario's fear evaporated, replaced with white-hot anger.

Enough.

Riario's own fury gave him one last burst of strength. He let go of Alessandro, leaned further back against the table though it dug painfully into his back, and sought for a weapon, his hand feeling blindly across the linen tablecloth. A salt cellar fell, his fingers brushed against a china cup, and then, as Riario's vision danced and dimmed due to lack of air, his fingers closed over a cold metal handle.

Alessandro's stunned look at the sudden pain, the unexpected betrayal, was burned into Riario's memory, though it would never haunt him, for he felt no guilt. Riario felt only relief when Alessandro's fingers slackened and he could breathe once more. Well, relief, and, he hardly dared ever admit it, a certain satisfaction.

As his father lay on the floor, bleeding, but still alive, Riario massaged his throat and slowed his breathing. He weighed the knife against his palm and then weighed up his options.

And made his choice.

"It was self-defence," Riario told the local magistrate and he was believed, once he showed him the finger-shaped bruising on his neck, the table-made bruises on his back, and the wrist scars which he displayed without shame for the first time, lying that they were the result of past abuses. Though in truth, it could be argued that they were, for they were the eventual consequence of the moment Alessandro had ordered Zita killed and the subsequent hurt that had caused his son.

"It wasn't my fault," Riario told Vanessa and Giuliano, unable to admit to murder in front of these good people who had taken pity on him when they had little cause to. They didn't argue. Vanessa held him close and told him it would be all right.

"It was him or me," Riario told Leo, and it went without saying that even if that had not been the case, it had been Alessandro or them, their union. Leo merely nodded, relieved it was over with at all, and grateful that his beloved was alive.

"I'm not sorry," Riario told Lucrezia when she came to pay her family's respects, or possibly to make sure her uncle was dead.

"Neither am I," Lucrezia replied, staring with distaste at the fresh grave. "He hurt us both and turned us against each other. He will never hurt anyone again and for that, cousin, I offer you my thanks. I also grant you my forgiveness. I know now that you were as much a victim of his cruelty as I was. As Amelia was."

Riario nodded, eyes full of sorrow.

"Come, cousin. We are free of him. It is a better world now." She took Riario's arm and they turned their backs on Alessandro's final resting place and headed back to their carriage.

Leo had a few words with Lucrezia at the manor before she left for Italy once more. Riario and Vanessa were nearby, discussing the plans for an upcoming ball, and so they were as alone as they were going to get.

"You betrayed me," Leo said. "And I might have forgiven that in time, but it would not have made a suitable bedrock on which to build a relationship."

"I agree. Know that I am sorry," Lucrezia said. "I did what I had to do. But now my uncle is dead and my cousin and I are both truly free. I have already been making a new life in Italy, and I am happy. As you and Girolamo are happy."

Leo glanced at Riario. "You know, then?" He hadn't told her about their upcoming nuptials. No-one outside of Giuliano's household yet knew about their engagement. They had all agreed that it was better that way, to wait until the funeral was over and the dust had settled.

"I know that you look at him the way you once looked at me," Lucrezia said, her tone soft, with a touch of regret. "For both your sakes, love him the way you might have loved me if things had been different. For he looks at you the same way."

A few days later Riario began to talk of selling the manor.

Giuliano shook his head. "You have been a welcome guest, but your place is as lord of the manor now. And you will of course take our other guest Leonardo with you."

Nico coughed into his tea cup. Vanessa hastily dabbed at her mouth with a napkin.

Riario bowed his head. "Of course. I would not overstay my welcome. I merely feel that house has so many terrible memories."

Giuliano nodded, contrite. "Forgive me. I had not thought of that."

"Perhaps we can get a priest to exorcise the property?" Nico raised an eyebrow but no-one seemed to like his suggestion.

Vanessa tipped her head. "What would you do if you sold the manor? Where would you live?"

Riario shrugged. "It would grieve me to remove us from your proximity," he said, "but there are other properties not too far from here that might suit. And yet I wonder if I am not ready to make such a decision. I feel the urge to travel. My inheritance is substantial enough but the proceeds from the sale would make any expedition possible."

Leo smiled. "He's never seen America. Or Greece. Or even Scotland. We could travel for a while, settle down later."

Vanessa lowered her gaze. Nico looked away.

"We'll come back often between excursions," Leo promised, seeing their distress. "And since we'll have no house of our own, we will continue to prevail upon your hospitality."

Giuliano looked as if he'd bitten into a lemon but his gaze softened when he saw how Vanessa brightened at this promise.

"I thought we'd start in France though," Leo went on. "I received word from Zo yesterday, telling me of a great venture he's headed off to partake in there."

Vanessa glanced at Riario. "Girolamo has not met Zo," she reminded Leo with a hint of caution.

Leo drained his cup. "Oh, I'm sure they'll get on famously," he said.

"Or infamously," Nico muttered.

But Leo paid him no mind, for he had returned his attention to Riario and now stroked his fingertips along one cheekbone. "It doesn't matter where we go," Leo said. "So long as you are with me."

"I shall always be so, artista," Riario said.

Nico made a muffled choking noise but Vanessa's balled up napkin sailed across the table and found its way into his face, and thus this loving declaration went unspoilt.