Feehan, Christine - The Scarletti Curse (21 page)

His own cousin. A man he had grown up with, a man he called
famiglia.
She was suddenly terrified. More than ever she wanted to go home, back to the
simplicity of the
villaggio.
No hint of conspiracy lurked there; the
people were hardworking and God-fearing. She could count on their stability.
Here, in this place of madness, in the
Palazzo della Morte,
the sands
were always shifting, and she could call no one friend.

"When did you last hear from him?" Giovanni asked his youngest
brother.

Vincente shrugged. "He sent word some weeks ago that he would be here
for the hunt. I think we should send inquiries to his people. Perhaps he has
come overland and has stopped at some inn." He grinned. "Damian has
an eye for the ladies."

"I will send out runners," Giovanni said, his hand tight around
Nicoletta's, warning her to remain silent. "He must attend the wedding."

Nicoletta stared steadfastly at her bare toes. She knew the don could feel
the way her body was trembling beside his, the way her pulse beat so
frantically beneath the pad of his thumb. One hand went to the nape of her neck
in a slow massage. To soothe her? Or to warn her? She stayed very still as she
listened to the three brothers talking, their voices oddly alike, while their
characters were so different.

"Nicoletta!" Ketsia and Sophie rushed at her, unaware of the
dangerous undercurrents, their faces joyful and smeared with white cream.
"We brought a treat for you!" The children were hand in hand as they
approached the adults.

Nicoletta and Maria Pia smiled a welcome at them as they stopped, suddenly
uncertain under the attention of the three men. Nicoletta held out her free arm
to them in encouragement, and both girls immediately hastened into her embrace.
She was as grateful for their presence as they were for hers.

"Sophie, who is your little friend?" Vincente asked his daughter.

Sophie moved closer to Nicoletta, a fine shiver running through her.
"Ketsia," she answered, almost painfully shy again. Nicoletta noticed
that Giovanni dropped his free hand onto the child's head, a small gesture of
affection and encouragement.

Vincente bowed low and pretended to kiss Ketsia's fingers.

"Have you come unescorted? That was very brave of you." Ketsia
erupted into nervous giggling. "Cristano came, too," she explained
without guile. "He wanted to see Nicoletta, too. Nicoletta is my best
friend."

"Well, then, you must come and visit often," Vincente encouraged.
He looked around. "Where, then, is this Cristano?" He smiled at
Ketsia. "Your escort should not be so lacking in manners as to leave you
alone for long. I fear if he does not correct his errant behavior, another man
will swoop you up."

She giggled again, this time blushing, already, at her young age, completely
susceptible to the Scarletti charm.

Sophie clutched Nicoletta's leg so hard, her fingers actually bit into flesh
through the skirt. The child was shaking.

Instinctively, Nicoletta circled Sophie's shoulders and hugged her.
"Thank you so much for entertaining Ketsia for me. Don Scarletti, Sophie
has been so good to me, I think she should be in the wedding party along with
Ketsia. I will need someone to ensure I remember every thing."

Giovanni smiled at the little girls. "Such as her shoes. She seems to
forget them all the time. I would be most grateful to you, Sophie."

Ketsia nodded vigorously. "She does, Sophie. You must help Nicoletta
remember her shoes while she is here."

"Nicoletta lives here now, Ketsia," Giovanni reminded her gently.
"Was it your job before to help Nicoletta remember?"

Ketsia nodded importantly. "She has so much to do. People from all over
seek out Nicoletta because—" She broke off, looking horrified, clapping a
hand over her mouth and looking at Maria Pia as if expecting a sharp reprimand.
At once tears of remorse swam in her eyes.

Giovanni smiled at her with his abundance of masculine charm. "You must
tell Sophie of all your duties, so while you are away, she can look after
Nicoletta properly. Of course Sophie must be in the wedding party and attend
you with Ketsia,
cara.
We cannot do without either of them."

Nicoletta exchanged a genuine smile with him, grateful that, with all of his
duties, the Don would recognize the little girls' insecurities and help to
combat them. Poor Sophie needed attention from her family desperately. "It
grows late, Ketsia. Where is Cristano?" She looked to the don, her dark
eyes eloquent, begging him to allow her to check on him.

"He was sulking in the maze when last I saw him, and refusing to return
to the ladies," Giovanni said, disclaiming responsibility.

"I saw no one," Antonello said, "but I took the short cut
through."

"I have never found that short cut," Vincente groused. "I
walked only a small distance on the outer edges and saw no one other than
Portia out for her daily walk."

"Perhaps he has gone home," Maria Pia ventured, knowing well
Cristano's fiery nature. If he was angry or humiliated after his talk with the
don he might easily storm off, forgetting he had escorted Ketsia. Yet the child
could hardly be expected to make the journey home unattended.

"Perhaps someone should seek him in the labyrinth." Nicoletta
glared at the don.

Giovanni regarded her silently for a moment, then summoned one of the
guards. They spoke briefly, and the guard quickly did a search of the outer
maze.

Maria Pia shook her head. "Likely he has gone, Nicoletta. Likely he
will be angry and sulk for days."

The fog was beginning to seep in from the ocean, and the air felt much
cooler. Bands of white drifted over the walkways of the palazzo, lending the
sculptures an eerie, unearthly appearance. Nicoletta was growing accustomed to
the strange images, but she could see that both timid little Sophie and the
usually bold Ketsia were becoming nervous.

"I will escort Ketsia home," Nicoletta said. Perhaps Maria Pia was
right. Cristano had a fiery temper and more pride than most. After being
chastened by the masterful Don Scarletti, he would be too humiliated to face
any of them. "I often walk the hills and know the paths well. Besides, I
have a need to check on my hillside garden."

Giovanni laughed softly, his mocking male amusement grating on her raw
nerves. "I will hardly allow you to roam the hills, Nicoletta. Your
roaming days are over now."

"I will escort young Ketsia, and Nicoletta also," Vincente
offered, bowing low.

Giovanni's dark eyes were at once hard and glittering. Nicoletta could feel
the power running through him, the edge of darkness, the shadow of violence.
"Nicoletta will not leave the palazzo. I will send young Ketsia safely to
her mother with two of my personal guards. If you wish to accompany them,
Vincente, all to the good." He glanced down at Nicoletta. "You are
shivering,
piccola.
You must go inside where it is warmer." Having
made it an order, he signaled the soldiers.

Vincente shrugged, hanging on grimly to his smile. "There is no need for
a procession for one small child. I will allow the guards to take on the task.
If you will excuse me, Nicoletta, I have duties to attend."

"And I must go bathe," Antonello added, bowing slightly toward
her.

Giovanni did not relinquish control of Nicoletta, his arm clamping her body
to his. "Come, Ketsia, kiss Nicoletta good-bye, for now. I will inform the
servants that you may visit whenever you desire to see Nicoletta or Sophie. My
guards will escort you home and will tell your mother, that you are always
welcome here and that they will attend to your safety on your return journeys.
No tears now. You do not want Nicoletta to be sad."

"Do you mean it?" Ketsia demanded.

"I do not say things I do not mean," the don said softly.

Ketsia hugged Maria Pia, Sophie, and Nicoletta, the last so hard and long
that the don was forced to pry her little fingers from Nicoletta and gently
send her on her way with two of his personal guards. Finally the child walked
off, tall and straight and self-important between her very own soldiers.

"Thank you," Nicoletta said, in spite of herself. Giovanni
Scarletti was a paradox to her. On the one hand, she sensed he was a dangerous,
violent man, and yet he could also be gentle and thoughtful. It was difficult
not to be intrigued by him. Not to be drawn to him.

She looked up at him and instantly was lost in the depths of his eyes. She
saw so much need there. An intense hunger. Blatant desire. Hot flames that
threatened to consume her if she dared to go near them. Her fingers curled against
his chest.

Giovanni moved her back toward the palazzo under Maria Pia's watchful eye.
Sophie walked with them, looking curiously from one to the other. Ketsia would
have asked a million questions, but Sophie was more reserved and always
restrained herself until she could be alone with Nicoletta.

"I have much work to do, Nicoletta, but I trust you can manage to stay
out of trouble and away from other suitors until such time as I can be with
you," Giovanni teased her. He held the door for the women to precede him
through.

Laughter bubbled up out of nowhere. "I
never
get into trouble,
Don Scarletti. I do not know where you should have gotten such an idea."
Deliberately Nicoletta winked at Sophie to include her.

Sophie hastily covered her mouth to keep her smile from showing. She had
never heard her uncle Gino tease or be teased. He was the head of the
household, and everyone was afraid of him. She had never heard him use that
low, caressing voice before either.

"Perhaps it has something to do with looking out my window and finding
you in a tangled heap on the ground with an ardent young man." That
drawling caress was back in his voice, brushing Nicoletta's skin like the touch
of fingers. "Stay with Sophie,
cara,
so I can breathe again."

"You breathe just fine," Nicoletta said, her soft laughter turning
the heads of the servants and the guards.

Giovanni had recently noticed a strange phenomenon in his home. It was as if
Nicoletta's smiles were contagious. Many of the servants and soldiers now wore
answering smiles on their faces. In the gloom shrouding the palazzo, Nicoletta
was a ray of sunlight. His hand curled around the nape of her neck, his head
bending low until he pressed his brow against hers. "I do not think our
wedding can come soon enough to suit me."

Maria Pia clucked her tongue to remind Don Scarletti that he was not wed yet
and that his behavior was bordering on the unseemly. Giovanni let out his
breath slowly, shaking his head ruefully. "You have your chaperone well
trained."

"You are the one who decreed I was never to be alone," she pointed
out. "You could have come to our hill and courted me properly."

He laughed softly, lightly rubbing a fingertip over her tempting mouth.
"Properly? I do not think there would be anything proper about the way I
would court you in the hills," he said wickedly.

His voice alone was scandalous, whispering over her skin until her body
burned with need. Flames danced through her, and she shook her head, mesmerized
into smiling in reply. How could she ever resist the dark intensity of his
eyes, his perfect, sensuous mouth?

Maria Pia cleared her throat noisily. The don gave in to the pressure with a
wry grin, taking Nicoletta's arm and Sophie's hand and walking down the
corridor. "I think I have been reprimanded, Sophie," he confided in a
whisper to the child, leading them toward his study.

Sophie laughed out loud, the sound carefree and unexpected. She was always
such a solemn child, but right now she was giggling along with Nicoletta.
"I am glad it was you being chastised, Zio Gino, and not me. She frowns
like this." Sophie glanced back to ensure the older woman was still some
distance behind, then made a face much like Maria Pia's.

"Zio Giovanni!" The strident voice carried down the long hall and
seemed to echo up to the high, domed ceiling. Margerita emerged from the
staircase leading from the ramparts and hurried toward them from the far end of
the corridor. The last rays of the setting sun pierced the thickening fog and
the stained-glass windows. Colors radiated over the walls and danced on the
ceiling. Then, just as suddenly, a dark shadow swept over the palazzo as the
sun sank into the sea.

Nicoletta's heart was suddenly pounding in alarm. Margerita had nearly
reached the small group, bringing with her an ominous portent of danger. The
impression was so strong, Nicoletta wrenched her arm away from Giovanni. The
corridor seemed gray and sinister, dark and shadowed with violence.

"Zio Giovanni." Margerita pushed rudely past Nicoletta, her nose
wrinkled delicately. "Who are these people? Sophie, stop looking like the
village idiot clinging like a
bambino,
to that woman."

Nicoletta couldn't look at Margerita, with her venomous eyes and her haughty
disdain. The darkness was spreading like a terrible stain over her soul.
"Do you feel it? Something is wrong," she murmured. She pressed a
hand to her stomach, the warning so strong it nearly paralyzed her with fear.
"Someone is in peril…" She stepped away from the others to spread her
arms, reaching for the feeling. Reaching to embrace the warning. Without
looking at any of them, she raised her face to the vaulted ceiling. She needed
to be outside, to feel the wind on her face, to smell and taste the salt spray
riding in from the sea. She needed to read the tales the wind brought her.

Margerita stared at her in horrified fascination. "What in the world is
wrong with her?" she demanded. "Has she gone mad? Zio Giovanni, you
have brought a madwoman into our midst," she bluntly accused in her
whining voice.

"Nicoletta!" Maria Pia said the name sharply in hopes of snapping
her young ward out of what looked suspiciously like a trance. Terrified that
someone would realize Nicoletta's "differences" and name her witch,
Maria Pia called her name loudly a second time.