Feehan, Christine - The Scarletti Curse (17 page)

The elusive Antonello Scarletti. Nicoletta had seen him once in the forest.
A few months earlier, he had sustained a terrible injury while out hunting. An
arrow had struck him in the thigh, and he had bled profusely. His horse,
nervous with the smell of blood, had thrown him. Antonello had crawled into the
brush and lay unconscious. The raven had led Nicoletta to his hiding place. She
had immediately set about saving his life. It had been a struggle, and she had
had no choice but to heat a blade in flame and press it to the wound to stop
the flow of blood, a painful process. He had not spoken a word or uttered a
sound other than one throaty cry torn from him when the hot knife seared his
thigh.

He had not wanted anyone to know where he was, shaking his head repeatedly
when she offered to send word to the don. In the end she and Maria Pia had
dressed his wounds, arranged him in his bedroll, brought him food and water,
and stayed silent despite the soldiers combing the hills for him. He was gone
on the third morning, and Nicoletta had never so much as heard a whisper of a
rumor that the don's brother had been injured. Twice, in the winter, though,
someone had left a deer, all dressed out for them, on their doorstep. Nicoletta
suspected Antonello

Scarletti had left the meat for them, to reward them for their aid, but she
never found out for certain.

Nicoletta tapped her fingernails on the coverlet. Antonello Scarletti had
been afraid for his life; she was certain of it. He must have suspected that
someone from the palazzo had attempted to murder him. Why else would he have
refused to allow Nicoletta to call his
famiglia
to aid him? It was a
frightening thought. "Sophie, did Bernado make soup for you before you
became so sick? Do you remember? Was it for your supper?"

Obviously uncomfortable, Sophie glanced quickly at Maria Pia, who continued
sleeping heavily. The little girl looked down at her hands.

Nicoletta smiled at her. "Do not worry,
bambino.
We are alone.
It is safe to tell me."

Sophie suddenly looked frightened and shook her head. "I have to go
before they find me here. Do not tell anyone that I was in this chamber. Do not
tell Papa." She slid off the bed and scampered to the wall. "Come to
the kitchen, and Bernado will fix us treats. Hurry, Nicoletta."

Nicoletta watched carefully as the child slid her hand along the floor until
she found some hidden mechanism. Whatever it was that released the wall was
eerily silent as the heavy marble swung open. Nicoletta peered into the dark
interior. Sophie was right about the thick veil of spider webs. The gossamer
strands covered the walls and hung from the ceiling. The passage was very
narrow and dark. Sophie's little candle was barely adequate to light her way.
Nicoletta stayed in the opening, watching to see that the child returned safely
to the nursery.

Maria Pia was chuckling softly. "I did not think the young scamp would
ever leave. I am too old to lie in bed without moving for so long." She
sat up with a faint smile on her face. "Secret passageways. I should have
known this heathen palazzo would truly have such things."

Nicoletta allowed the wall to swing shut, shivering suddenly. "Perhaps
they need such a thing to store all the bodies of the women murdered
here."

"Nicoletta!" Maria Pia automatically reprimanded her as she began
to dress.

"Tell me what happened to
mia madre
and
mia zia.
I want
to know. Tell me what really happened to them." Nicoletta leaned against
the cool marble and regarded the older woman somberly.

A cold draft seemed to race from the cold hearth and into the room, chilling
both occupants so that Nicoletta shivered uncontrollably. Without conscious
thought she reached to pull the don's heavy coat around her, wrapping herself
in folds of warmth. There was a strange, hushed silence, as if all movement in
the palazzo had suddenly ceased. In that vacuum of sound no mice or rats
scratched, no servants scurried in the halls.

Maria Pia sighed softly and shook her head. "It has been many years,
yet it is not a good thing to speak of, not now when we are in the
palazzo." She looked around her carefully at the staring eyes of the many
demonic sea serpents. "It is not good to discuss the dead,
Nicoletta."

Nicoletta lifted her chin, her dark eyes eloquent. "I need to know what
happened. I remember them bringing Mama's body back over the hills. That day
was so dark and dreary. I was waiting up in the meadow for her, and the raven
came. I knew she was gone. The bird would never have been out flying about otherwise
with the rain that had poured down so heavily that morning. I knew something
terrible had happened to my mother, but no one would say, no one would tell me.
Later I heard the whispers. People implied she was murdered, but no one
actually came out and told me what happened. She was
mia madre,
and I
deserve to know." She sank down onto the mattress, her hand circling the
tall, thick bed post until her knuckles turned white. "I have to live
here, Maria Pia—here, where my mother and aunt died. I need to know."

"It was said that your
madre
was working on the ramparts,
cleaning the walkway. She was young and beautiful, already a widow so young,
your father taken so early by incurable disease. Everyone loved your mother and
she sang like an angel." There were tears in Maria Pia's voice. "They
said she must have slipped on the wet surface, the marble walkway slick from
the rain."

Nicoletta's dark gaze remained steadfastly on the older woman's face.
"But you did not believe them."

"Why would she be cleaning the walkway in the rain? It was dangerous up
so high. Your mother was very smart; she would not have chosen such a time to
clean the walkways around the turrets." Maria Pia spread out her fingers.
"I examined her body when they brought her home. She had fallen a great
distance and so had many bruises and broken bones, but her fingernails were
torn and bloody, as if she had clawed to save her life. The bones in her
fingers were broken, and there were bruises and scratches around her throat.
And…" Maria Pia turned away from Nicoletta, tears swimming in her eyes.

"Finish it," Nicoletta said numbly. "I need to know what I
will be facing."

"She had been badly used. I think she fought her attacker, and when he
was finished with his dark deed, he hurtled her over the rampart. She must have
caught the ledge, and he pounded her hands until he broke her fingers and she
fell." Maria Pia hung her head. "My beautiful angel. I told the don,
Giovanni's father, my findings, and he conducted an investigation, but nothing
came of it. I could not prove anything."

Maria Pia sighed heavily. "The very next morning Don Scarletti's
grandmother was found dead in her own bed with fingerprints around her neck,
the old man sleeping beside her. The palazzo, indeed the entire land, was
grief-stricken with Donna Scarletti's death. She was much loved and rightly so.
Yet no one would remember the death of a peasant, a poor, widowed
domestica."

A surge of anger erupted in Nicoletta, shaking her body so that for a moment
she could only cling to the bedpost and fight down the volcanic emotions
swirling so strongly within her. It took a few minutes for her to realize that
Maria Pia was weeping silently. At once Nicoletta pushed aside her own feelings
and rushed to the older woman's side. She hugged her tightly. "I am sorry
I made you relive it all again. It is no wonder you did not wish to speak of
such an ill thing."

"She must have been so frightened. And she had gone to the
Palazzo
delta Morte
certain the gossip was not true. I should have stopped your mother
from seeking work at such a place, but we needed to get through the winter, and
we had no man to help. I knew there was danger; I had seen the body of her
sister, your
zia,
when they returned
her
home from the
palazzo." Maria Pia buried her face in her hands, her shoulders shaking.
"Only a few months before, your
zia,
too, had met with an
'accident' while serving there. A statue made of heavy stone fell and crushed
her, they said."

Nicoletta held the old woman to her. The air in the room seemed oppressive,
and all at once Nicoletta didn't want Maria Pia to say anymore. The premonition
of danger was acute, robbing her of breath, stealing her ability to think
properly. "You cannot stay here, Maria Pia," she said decisively.
"I do not want you in danger. If whoever killed the women still resides
here, they must know you are aware that those deaths were not accidents."

Maria Pia patted Nicoletta's shoulder consolingly. "Your
madre
and
zia
died over twelve years ago,
piccola.
The
aristocrazia
would not remember the deaths of two
domestice.
And they cannot know I
examined both bodies and found the truth. Don Scarletti's father is dead these
last eight years. I spoke to no one else."

"Two other women from the surrounding
villaggi
have died here in
strange accidents in the intervening time. And the young wife of Vincente
Scarletti. This is indeed the

Palazzo della Morte."
Nicoletta allowed the don's coat to fall
from her shoulders to the coverlet. "I cannot take a chance with your
life, Maria Pia. You must leave this place."

"Until you are married, I must stay with you," Maria Pia pointed
out. "Get dressed, Nicoletta. We have much to do this day. Are we allowed
out of the room?"

"The don did not say I was confined to my dungeon," Nicoletta said
resentfully. "Only that the guards must accompany me wherever I go. At
least I have the key to the room and can lock it from this side." She
laughed ruefully. "Not that it will do much good when anyone can come in
through the wall. We should push something heavy against it at night." As
she spoke, she was performing her morning ablutions. The water was cold, but
she washed thoroughly, taking her time to prepare for meeting the household.

"Perhaps I should make another appeal to the don." Maria Pia ran a
gnarled hand over the fine material of the handsome coat. "Ask him to
change his mind and choose another bride, although he seems very set on
you."

"Do not bother, Maria Pia. I was quite eloquent in my appeals to him.
The man has no sense at all, and he listens to no one." Nicoletta turned
away to hide her expression. Her dreams were still very vivid in her mind, hot
color running beneath her skin at the memories. She cleared her throat. "I
feel as if eyes are watching my every movement. I do not know how I can stand
such a thing."

"You must be careful," Maria Pia cautioned. "I believe you
will always be watched. You must never forget that. If you make a mistake, the
don will realize you are… different, and he will condemn you as a witch."

"I thought that, too, but now I do not believe that is not so. I do not
comprehend why he has invoked the Bridal Covenant when he knows I am different.
If he was going to condemn me to death, he would have done so last night."
Nicoletta shivered. "Someone in the palazzo knows who murdered my
famiglia,
and I intend to find out who that person is."

Maria Pia gasped in alarm. "You
cannot. They died so many years ago, and it is dangerous to stir up old wounds.
You could be in terrible danger."

Nicoletta inserted the key in the lock and turned it. She glanced over her
shoulder at Maria Pia, her dark eyes sober. "I am in great danger now. I
know I am. I feel it. I will not be the rabbit cowering in wait for the wolf to
take me." She lifted her chin in determination. "There is evil here,
but I will go to meet it, not wait, shivering like a babe, in my room."
She yanked open the door.

The guard there, a different man from the night before, nodded politely to
her and stepped aside so that she was free to enter the wide hall. Sunlight was
beginning to stream through a series of high, arched, stained-glass windows,
casting colorful rays dancing across the spacious corridor. The second guard
was stationed a few paces down, standing at a window, but his attention clearly
centered on Nicoletta as she started toward him. She kept her chin held high
and her hand clasped tightly with Maria Pia's.

"Would one of you be so kind as to instruct me where the kitchen
is?" She was proud of the fact that her voice didn't shake in the least.

"Follow me, Signorina," the man by the window said, and he turned
to lead the way.

Nicoletta was acutely conscious of the other guard behind them and the
servants stopping their work to stare curiously at the little procession they
made as they walked down the twisting staircase and through the many turns of
the palazzo toward the kitchen. She looked around her, inspecting everything,
determined, in the light of day, to uncover some of the palazzo's secrets.
Without the dancing candlelight, its vaulted ceilings gave off a
cathedral-like, rather than gloomy, effect. The rows of windows provided
sunlight and spectacular views. The servants were industrious, the palazzo
spotless.

As they approached the cook's domain, Nicoletta was expecting a dark, dank
room with scorched walls, sinister carving knives, and heads on platters, but,
in truth, the enormous, airy kitchen was as clean and neat as the rest of the
rooms she had seen. The pleasant-looking cook, Bernado, was working diligently
beside an older woman. Sophie was seated at the smallest of three tables and
let out a glad cry of welcome.

Nicoletta caught the child as she leapt into her arms. "I knew you
would come! I told Bernado you would come. I told him to fix you something
special." She wrapped her arms around Nicoletta's neck and squeezed hard.

Nicoletta laughed as she pried the child's off her. "Thank you for the
invitation, Sophie. Bernado, I am Nicoletta. I have invaded your domain at
young Sophie's invitation. Do you mind?"