Quite a few elm trees had been planted on the lawn, one after another, and they were at least several hundred years old. If a lawn like this had been in a Paris park, it would surely have been covered with people sunbathing.
The honor guard only surrounded the area within a hundred paces of Magenta's house, yet the three of them were the only ones walking across the entire lawn. None of the neighbors had come out, as if those houses were all empty.
She racked her brains for something to say, yet after they had made a full circuit of the lawn, not a word had been spoken.
The Italian sunlight was clearly harsher than Paris's. Georgiana somewhat regretted not bringing a parasol.
The house was actually quite decent. It looked like it was in a sixteenth-century Renaissance style, and might even have been built during the Renaissance. Still, rather than a residence, it looked more like a villa.
"Why have you never considered marriage, Mr. Magenta?"
Magenta froze for a moment. He probably had not expected Georgiana to open with that question.
"I have a friend who says that unless you need to board Noah's Ark, there is no need to make up a male-female pair," Georgiana said casually.
"I... I've never considered it," Magenta stammered. His French had been quite good, but now even an Italian accent had emerged.
"Quite a few French have stayed behind for love, haven't they, Luigi?" Georgiana said with a smile.
"There was a dragoon, the handsomest young man I had ever seen. After arriving in Milan, he received an invitation from a marchioness. But he searched through his regiment and could not put together even a decent pair of boots. By the time he finally borrowed a pair and polished