Feehan, Christine - The Scarletti Curse (24 page)

Cara mia,
I shall have to come to you and hold you until this
sorrow lessens. Breathe for me,
piccola,
that I may breathe also.

The words stirred in her mind, gentle and warm, a comforting presence.
Nicoletta rested her head against the back of the tub and closed her eyes
tiredly. Giovanni Scarletti. He was like no man she had ever met. He seemed to
have no regard for convention. He could do things Maria Pia would name unholy.
How could he send his words to her in his mind? She had been afraid to ask him,
afraid of learning the truth.

What if he was a devil-worshiper? A sorcerer? What if he was capable of
black magic? Nicoletta was drawn to him as she had never been to another human
being. Dark, ugly tales were whispered of him. Was he capable of heading up a
secret society of assassins, as was rumored? Certainly he had enough visitors
throughout the day, meeting them alone in his study with no one permitted near.
She knew he was capable of killing. He had many times gone with his army to
defeat hordes of invaders. She had seen him take the life of his own cousin.
Was he capable of throwing a woman off the castle tower? Had he perhaps even
murdered her mother?

Nicoletta shook her head decisively. She didn't believe it, not for one
moment. She didn't fool herself into thinking Giovanni was a gentle man. He was
capable of many things, but not of outright murder. And certainly not the
murder of a woman or child. He could be ruthless, unconventional, and
merciless—for all she knew, he might very well be in league with the devil—but
he would not kill a woman.

She touched her mouth, her throat. He could be incredibly appealing. He made
her feel as if she were special. As if he needed her. Wanted her. Even had to
have her. It was in the dark intensity of his eyes. The possession in his
touch. The desire flaring so wantonly in his hot gaze. And yet he had tenderly
comforted her. He had stood up to Aljandro for her, even stripped the man of
his lands and sent him far away.

"He was good to me." Nicoletta looked up at Maria Pia. "He
was very good to me. I went a little mad, I think." Her throat felt raw
from raging at the seas. "I have never felt that way before. I had no
control at all. I even tried to attack Aljandro, but he threw me against the
wall."

Maria Pia gasped aloud. "He did what? Were you hurt?" Immediately
she lit the tapers along the wall to inspect Nicoletta carefully. There were
slight bruises marring her left thigh and hip. "We should put a poultice
on those. I do not think the injury is severe, but Don Scarletti will not be
happy with bruises on your skin."

Nicoletta reluctantly left the warmth of the tub. The terrible trembling had
ceased, and the heated water had restored the glow to her skin. She wrung out
her long hair and twisted it into a loose knot to work with later. She felt she
had a semblance of her self-control back, but it was tenuous at best.

Very slowly she dried her skin. She was exhausted and longed to go to her
bed and sleep. "I do not care this night if evil monsters lurking in the
palazzo choose to visit. I will sleep. They will not disturb me."

"You must eat, Nicoletta," Maria Pia insisted.

Nicoletta pulled on fresh clothes and curled up in the chair beside the fire
as Maria Pia unlocked the door and waved the waiting servants in to remove the
tub. Nicoletta watched the leaping flames and thought about her late friend.

It was only when the manservant brought dinner that she stirred. As he was
leaving she called out to him softly. "Signore Gostanz,
scusa."

Gostanz turned back to her, his features carefully blank.
"Signorina?"

"Grazie.
For your kindness and all the extra trouble you have
had to go to,
grazie,"
she said sincerely. "I will not be such
a bother again."

Gostanz stared at her, clearly startled. He bowed, a clumsy gesture, but for
some reason it brought a flood of tears to Nicoletta's eyes. A shadow fell
across them, the large frame of the don in the doorway. His glittering eyes
slashed at the manservant.
"Piccola,
why are you crying?" It
was an accusation directed at poor, defenseless Gostanz. The man froze, his
head bowed, waiting for a reprimand.

Nicoletta forced a wan smile. "Signora
Gostanz has been so wonderful to me, Don Scarletti. He has gone to much
trouble, when he was up very early with so many duties. To make your big home
run so smoothly, he must be a miracle worker. He is another one of your
treasures, yes?"

Giovanni studied the older man for a long moment. "That is true,
Nicoletta. Gostanz, perhaps you would be so kind as to meet with me on the
morrow to discuss the daily routines of the palazzo. You do work long hours,
and more staff may be needed to ease your burden."

Gostanz bowed several more times as he backed out of the room, his lined
face quite pale, as if he thought his master might be testing him.

Giovanni stood for a long time watching the firelight play over Nicoletta's
delicate features. She blushed and looked down at the tray in her hands.
"Are you going to stare at me all evening?" Self-consciously she
pushed at damp tendrils of hair falling around her face.

He could that see she was trembling slightly. He nodded slowly. "Yes, I
think I might do so."

Maria Pia seated herself across the room, keeping a wary eye on the don. She
knew it would do no good to mention how unseemly it was to have the bridegroom
in the bride's bedchamber prior to the marriage, and she was beginning to feel
desperate. She decided the marriage must take place immediately or the scandal
would be huge. There was no controlling the don. She was an old lady,
unmarried, but even she could see the sexual tension smoldering between Don
Scarletti and her young charge.

Nicoletta turned her attention to the food. Bernado had gone out of his way
to make her a meal that looked quite tasty, but, in truth, she had no appetite.
With a sigh, she put it down. "I do not want to hurt Bernado's feelings.
Perhaps you might eat this?" she asked the don hopefully.

"You look tired,
cara mia,"
Giovanni said softly, and he
lifted her right out of the chair to cradle her close to his body. She was
beginning to feel as if she belonged there.

Nicoletta slipped her arm around his neck and lay her head against his
shoulder. "I am sorry I hit you earlier. It was horrible of me."

He buried his face against her neck and inhaled her fragrance. "I do
not recall such a breach of conduct. I was only grateful to be of
service." He carried her to the bed, very gently placing her beneath the
coverlet. "Sit up for a few more minutes,
cara."
His hands
loosened the thick rope of hair knotted atop her head. He took the brush from
the dresser and began tugging at the tangles.

Nicoletta closed her eyes, so exhausted she was swaying with weariness.
There had been so much blood. Lissandra's eyes had been open, staring
desperately, pleadingly at her. Immediately the vision swam into her mind, and
her stomach rolled. She shuddered.

Giovanni leaned close to her, his hands caressing as he deftly plaited her
hair into a long, thick braid.
You will sleep,
cara,
with no
nightmares. I insist on this, and you will learn, I always get my way.

The words brushed intimately in her mind. Nicoletta could tell the
connection between the don and her was growing stronger; his words were much
clearer, and he used little effort now to reach her. She curled up beneath the
coverlet, his voice a soft murmur, not aloud but rather in her mind, where no
other could hear, no other could intrude. He talked to her softly, soothingly,
weaving tales of adventure, of daring, of beautiful foreign lands, driving out
the nightmare images. All the while he held her close to him, his hands moving
in a caress over her silky hair. There was such gentleness in his hands, such
tenderness in his voice, that Nicoletta relaxed and drifted into slumber.

Light streamed through the thick stained glass, and colors danced on the
mural. Reds and blues highlighted the strange carvings. Nicoletta awoke to a small
body nestled beside hers. Cautiously she turned her head, eyelashes fluttering
open. Sophie lay curled tightly against her, her dark hair spilling around her
face. A melted candle lay on the floor beside the marble wall where the child
had left it, a testimony to her courage in braving the dreaded
fantasmi
in her effort to get to Nicoletta. Her little hand clutched Nicoletta's thin
white night shift.

Nicoletta gently removed Sophie's grip on her shift and sat up. Maria Pia
was no longer in the room, indicating it was probably fairly late. Nicoletta
didn't often sleep past early dawn. There was a hushed silence in the palazzo.
Nicoletta stretched lazily and padded across the chamber to perform her morning
ablutions. Her hair was still damp when she loosened it from the thick braid
the don had woven for her the night before.

She closed her eyes against the memories crowding in: Lissandra's blood and
her young, desperate face looking to her for a miracle Nicoletta couldn't
provide. Then she glanced at the innocent child sleeping so peacefully in the
large bed. This child she could and would help, she vowed.

Nicoletta did not want to think too closely about her own behavior with the
don last night. He had taken her blouse right off her, exposing her body to his
burning gaze. At the time she had been in shock, but now her memory was vivid,
far more vivid than she would have liked. The look in the don's eyes had been
intensely possessive. In her mind, she had felt his honest attempts to comfort
her, but his gaze had held stark, raw desire. Her body grew hot and
uncomfortable at the memory.

She sighed and deliberately turned her attention back to the painted mural
and the carvings in the marble wall. With the rays of the sun pouring through
the stained glass, prisms of color bathed and illuminated the relief. Across
the coverlet, red, green, yellow, and blue hues fashioned a beautiful rainbow.
Nicoletta looked back at the panel of windows. It caught her interest, it was
so unusual—very tall, with a virtual tapestry of pictures woven into its
various circular panes. Scenes of the life of the
aristocracia.
Winged
guardians watching over the
famiglia aristocratico.
Weaving among the
panes were leaded vines drawing the scenes together. It was truly a work of
art, and the metal filigree had a strange effect on the mural on the far wall.
The serpent coils looked completely different, almost like spiral staircases
leading down to the bottom of the sea.

Sophie stirred, her little hand moving around in the bed, obviously seeking
Nicoletta. When she discovered she was alone, she gave a startled gasp and sat
up, her eyes wide with fear. Nicoletta instantly hurried to her side. "I
am right here,
bambino..
Surely you are not afraid. You braved
i
fantasmi
last night to share my room. In the light of day, nothing can
scare you."

Sophie circled Nicoletta's neck with her thin arms. "I was afraid you
would not come back. Margerita said you were an evil witch and Zio Gino would
never marry you. She will insist he make you go away or have you stoned or
drowned. She does not like you and does not want you here." She burst into
tears and hugged Nicoletta tightly. "I want you here, Nicoletta, and I do
not think you are a witch."

Nicoletta stroked Sophie's tangled hair soothingly. "Margerita was just
trying to scare you with her silly tales, Sophie. Your
zio
is a great
man. Not even the powerful Spanish king has dared to invade his lands. The king
has swallowed our neighbors, but he has not managed to defeat your
zio.
A mere
bambina
such as Margerita will not change his mind." She
kissed the child's head and reached for her comb to begin taming Sophie's
tangles. "Margerita has a wild imagination." Nicoletta was very
gentle as she eased the knots from the child's hair.

"I do not want you to ever go, Nicoletta," Sophie confided.
"You could marry
mio padre
and then you would be
mia
madre."

"I am to marry your
zio,
Sophie, so I will be your
zia
and live here in the palazzo. We will always be together, and if I ever have a
bambina,
you will be the
zia,
and you will help me so much." She hugged the
child to her. "Do you suppose we should go to the kitchen and ask Bernado
to fix us a treat? I think we overslept."

A smile crept into Sophie's eyes, dispelling her troubled look. "I must
dress." Then her face clouded. "Did you hear them last night?"
She scooted around Nicoletta to the alcove where the chamber pot was.

"Hear them?" Nicoletta echoed. For some reason her heart jumped at
the phrasing. Her hands curled around the bed post. "What did you hear last
night, Sophie?"

The little girl came back to Nicoletta, her large, dark eyes solemn. "I
heard them whispering again. They found me in the nursery. I thought I was safe
there, but they are coming for me. That is why I came and hid in your
room."

Nicoletta felt her heart pounding out a drumbeat in her ears. She believed
Sophie. She had heard the strange murmurings her first night in the palazzo.
And Giovanni Scarletti could project his voice directly into her mind. Could it
be that he was conducting some strange experiment with his ability, and poor
little Sophie was feeling the effect of it?

"Come here,
bambina,"
she invited softly, holding a hand
out to the little girl. She was aware of Sophie waiting anxiously to be
condemned for lying as she had been in the past. "I want you to tell me
whenever you hear those voices. You were very brave to come through the passage
to me. I am proud of you."