Feehan, Christine - The Scarletti Curse (43 page)

Giovanni heaved an exasperated sigh and glanced up at his waiting
manservant. "Gostanz, you are unmarried, no?"

A hint of a smile crept into Gostanz's eyes. "That is so, Don
Scarletti. And for good reason. I will tell those waiting that the healer will
be with them immediately."

"Tell the stableman to prepare my horse. I will take Donna Nicoletta
myself." Giovanni's hand tugged at her knotted hair. "We should
gather whatever you will need."

"Grazie,
Giovanni," Nicoletta said softly, her heart in her
eyes, unknowingly giving him more of a reward than she could have imagined.

Nicoletta gathered her satchel and cloak hastily, taking time only to make
certain she had all her herbs with her. "I know you are busy, Giovanni.
You really needn't come with me," she ventured cautiously as they hurried
through the palazzo toward the entrance closest to the stables. "Truly,
Francesco and Dominic guard me closely. I know you were frightened earlier when
you snapped at them, but you did not mean it."

"I am not about to allow you out of my sight. And do not talk to me
about Francesco or Dominic right now. They were supposed to stay with you at
all times, not allow you to flit away from them at any opportunity."
Giovanni politely held the door open for her. "They cannot protect you if
they do not know where you are."

It was a small thing, Giovanni's opening the door for her, but that courtly
gesture made Nicoletta feel cared for. No one had performed the little niceties
for her before, and Giovanni did it as if she had every right to such respect.
She smiled at him, refraining from arguing further. It was enough that he was
letting her go against his better judgment.

Once outside she inhaled deeply to allow the wind and sea spray to carry
their tales to her. Overhead the raven circled once, twice, while Nicoletta
settled in front of the don on his horse. Then the bird turned inland, away
from the sea, flying as straight as an arrow.

"Hurry, Giovanni. The injuries are severe, but it is not too
late." she said. It was the first time she had uttered such words to him
without fear. The don might carry madness in his blood, but he watched over his
wife with a fierce desire to protect her.

His arms were tight around her as he held the reins, the wall of his chest a
support for her back so that her head could rest on his shoulder.
"I
have complete faith in you,
cara mia."
His words were soft in her
ear, in her mind, settling in her heart.

Nicoletta smiled as the horse swallowed up the miles with its long strides.
Giovanni had gotten the directions from the waiting runner, and as night began to
fall, he pressed the animal to greater speeds. The encampment was small, up
amidst the boulders jutting above the tree line, an area Nicoletta had never
seen. She was certain they were on the border of Giovanni's lands, and as he
reined in the horse and called out to someone unseen, she was more certain than
ever.

"Are we at war?" she asked in a low tone, looking around her at
the hastily erected camp. There was a secrecy about the encampment she couldn't
otherwise explain away.

When Giovanni announced their presence, several men slowly emerged from the
shadows into plain view. Many had various wounds, and all looked exhausted.
Nicoletta slid from the horse onto the ground, swaying slightly as she tried to
find her legs after the long ride. She forgot her question as she looked around
her at the men's bloodstained clothing. Giovanni tossed the reins to one of the
soldiers, yanked her satchel free, and took her arm to help her over the uneven
ground. His fingers tightened like a band around her upper arm, and he leaned
into her.
"Dio!
 Nicoletta, you have forgotten your shoes
again."

Nicoletta barely noticed. She had run barefoot for so many years, it seemed
natural to her, but her husband sounded so exasperated, she flashed him a quick
grin. For one timeless moment his eyes met hers. There was pride there,
respect, and something far deeper and richer that turned her heart over. They
had time for one shared smile, one moment of complete understanding, and then
she was led to the most injured patient.

Giovanni watched her perform her tasks, never taking his eyes from her
small, slender figure as she worked quickly and efficiently with far more
experience than one of her age should have. She was totally focused on her
patient, a young soldier with several stab wounds in his shoulder, chest, and
leg. The don was amazed at her power. Her presence alone commanded respect.
Others leapt to obey her quietly spoken orders, not looking to him to verify
them at all. He, too, found himself leaping to get the things she needed,
amazed at the amount of hot water she insisted upon. But he soon became a
complete believer. Giovanni would have sworn no one could save the young man,
but she inspired such confidence, commanded such obedience, no one in the camp
thought she would fail. He was beginning to think Nicoletta
willed
the
wounds to heal.

She worked until the darkness descended and the wind howled through the
camp, causing the men to shiver. Tucking blankets around the wounded man,
Nicoletta straightened up, looking around her at the faces of the others.
"Who else is injured here? This man will live with good care. You must see
to it he is taken to shelter as soon as possible and given plenty of liquids.
Perhaps he can be brought to the palazzo, where I will be able to attend to him
daily." She glanced at Giovanni, who nodded in approval. She was swaying
with weariness.

Giovanni swept an arm around her, gathering her close. His mind sought hers.
Her incredible gift of healing took a tremendous amount of energy, draining her
strength. He felt it in her, yet she was still looking over the soldiers,
determined to give aid to any other in need. "Rest for a time," he
suggested softly.

She smiled up at him. "These men have suffered much in their battle. I
will do what I can to make them more comfortable." They had seen combat,
but not in the type of battle she had first imagined. The injuries they had
sustained were from knives, not from swords or arrows. These men had been very
close to their assailants.

Giovanni moved a distance away, still keeping his eye on her while he
consulted with the captain in low tones. She moved among the men, attending
wounds, smiling, even laughing softly with them, very much at ease, yet she
managed to look regal in her bare feet and peasant clothing, managed to look
beautiful and every inch a lady. Giovanni tried not to notice the way his men
looked at her, the way their eyes followed her. He tried to ignore the
tightness in his chest and the surge of hot blood swirling beneath the thin
surface of his civilized veneer.

Nicoletta knew she wasn't supposed to see too much. These men were members
of the don's elite guard. Trusted soldiers, every one of them. Men who had
proven their loyalty to the don many times over. Don Scarletti seemed to know
each one personally. The captain and the don spoke in hushed tones, going over
a map much like the ones she had seen in the elderly Scarletti's private study.
For one brief moment it occurred to Nicoletta that Giovanni had rifled through
his
nonno's
maps and stolen those he needed. But that made no sense.
Giovanni was the don, and owned everything in the palazzo and in the
surrounding lands. More likely his
nonno
quietly made his grandson fresh
maps to aid him.

When Nicoletta was finished attending her last patient, Giovanni gathered
the soldiers together. "There is a continued need for secrecy. You
unmarried men volunteered, and none of you have families that might insist on
knowing where you are. You must continue to be silent, rest, and be ready for
the next call. Transport young Goeboli to the palazzo."

Nicoletta's head went up, and she immediately turned to stare at the young
soldier whose injuries were so severe. She knew the name well, the history of
the house of Goeboli. The elder Signore Goeboli had owned the vast lands to the
north of the Scarlettis. He had the reputation of being a good don. Long before
Nicoletta's birth, when the King of Spain had looked greedily upon the land,
his family had taken in high-ranking members of the Holy Church and hidden
them. At the same time he had tried to make a peace treaty with Spain. But he
had been slain, his lands gobbled up, his people scattered, and it was rumored
that his sons were long dead along with their father. This young man had to be
a grandson. All had not been lost.

"What is going on here?" she asked Giovanni as he swung up onto
his horse and pulled her up in front of him with his casual strength.

Giovanni was silent until they had ridden some distance from the camp.
"You asked if we were at war. We have no choice but to be at war. Large
wolves surround us, powerful and greedy. They look to our lands and our riches.
That is why I have long kept the treasures and wealth of the
famiglia
Scarletti deep within the passageways, protected by our ancestors' traps. Our country's
wealth has been plundered time and time again. A good leader senses when a
change is in the wind, and he must act immediately. Wars are not necessarily
fought on a battlefield, yet they can be just as deadly and just as fierce.
Austria looks to control our lands, and soon, if I am right, she will be in
power. I think the time is right to align with her. She will allow the more
powerful
famiglie
to continue ruling here while she looks to her own borders. We
will have a chance to grow stronger and thrive. To arrange this, when some are
evidently not in favor of my decision, we meet in secret, in small groups, so
only a few may identify others. Since there is a traitor in the palazzo, the
young Goeboli must be kept hidden. The men will bring him to the cove, and I
will bring him into the palazzo through the passageway. My own guards will see
to his safety, and only you will enter his room to attend him."

"How did you get the scratch on your chest last night?" She asked
abruptly, trying to keep her voice even and her mind blank, as if his answer
was not of great importance to her. But he urged his mount into a thick stand
of trees, brought it to a halt, and dismounted with her.

They were back within familiar territory, not far from Nicoletta's herb
garden. She stretched, raising her arms above her head to the night sky. The
sea breeze was cool and crisp, swirling wisps of white fog around her skirt so
that she seemed to rise up like a siren from the clouds.

Giovanni sighed softly. "You told me you believed my own cousin had
entered into a conspiracy against me. I know my life is in danger. Four times
recently there have been attempts against me. Damian on the beach, the poisoned
soup, once when I was out hunting with Antonello, and our wedding night.

Nicoletta stared at him, her eyes enormous in the silvery moonlight.
"How long ago was your hunting trip with Antonello?" She could read
the sincerity in his voice, his eyes. He hadn't gone to another woman on their
wedding night, abused and mistreated her. Nicoletta had been certain he hadn't,
but it was still comforting to hear him confirm he had not been the one to harm
Beatrice. The memory of Beatrice's wrist, the terrible bruising and burns, was
suddenly vivid in her mind. And Margerita had the exact same circlet of bruises
on her wrist. Nicoletta's breath caught in her throat. Both women had been with
the same man. She bit down hard on her lip, trying to concentrate on what her
husband was saying, holding the revelation to herself tightly.

Giovanni shrugged. "Some months ago. The sudden assault was enough of a
warning. I knew someone must have gotten wind of our plans. I immediately moved
to protect our treasures and my
famiglia."

Nicoletta turned away from Giovanni, unwilling for him to read her
oft-transparent expression. Antonello had been hunting with Giovanni. Yes,
Antonello had been wounded, but that could have been an accident. Damian had
been Antonello's best friend as well as cousin. Anyone in the palazzo,
including Antonello, would know that Bernado always left soup warming for
Giovanni. Antonello had been with the guards the previous night. And Antonello
had come out of the maze the day Cristano vanished within it, his clothing
bloodstained. He moved freely throughout the countryside, unlike Vincente, who
would never willingly venture among the peasants in the
villaggi.

"What happened on our wedding night?" Nicoletta asked softly.
Antonello had been in the hallway, calling her husband away from her.

"It is necessary to silence those who choose to oppose us, those who
would betray us and endanger our
famiglie.
I was asked to speak to two
emissaries sent by an ally who was in need of aid. But the 'visitors' were
actually assassins sent to kill me. They did not succeed." He spoke
softly, matter-of-factly.

Then he moved up behind her, sheltering her from the wind with his body.
"We need unity, and Austria has no real desire to rule this country; she
has far too many other troubles. I believe we can strengthen our position and
move our people into place to be ready to take advantage when the offer to
align comes to pass. It is my belief that Austria will leave the ruling to the
stronger
famiglie.
I see no way other than unification with her to protect my
people."

Very gently he circled her slender body with his arms and drew her back
against his chest. "Have I told you how proud you make me? I know it was
wrong of me to bring you into a dangerous world of intrigue, but I could not
help myself. I did my best to stay away from you, but there you were, right in front
of me, no longer haunting my dreams, no longer whispered reports from my men,
but real flesh and blood and so beautiful I could not breathe when I looked at
you."