Rose Red (34 page)

“Here comes someone.” Francesco squinted,
looking across the expanse of farmed fields toward the villa in the
distance. “There are six riders.”

“Signores.” Giuseppe arrived ahead of the
other riders and drew up next to the three men who were waiting
impatiently to hear what he would say. “Bartolomeo wants you to
come with us. Lorenzo, more sentries are on their way to assist
you, in case you need them.”

“Bartolomeo sent an armed escort for us?”
Andrea frowned at the mounted men-at-arms, all of whom he knew from
the previous winter. All of them were grim-faced and unfriendly at
this meeting. Andrea’s tone was dry when he said to Giuseppe, “We
are honored.”

“Signore,” Giuseppe said, “if you attempt to
evade us, we are to cut you down.”

“I find it difficult to believe that
Bartolomeo gave you that order,” Francesco said as he swung back
into his saddle. “It’s not like him.”

“Madonna Eleonora gave us the order,”
Giuseppe replied. “She said she does not trust you.”

“What a woman!” Francesco’s broad smile
flashed. “I can’t wait to see her again.”

They did not meet Bartolomeo in his office as
Andrea had expected. Instead, still under escort, they entered the
villa through the garden, where plums ripened on one tree and
apricots on another, while the bees busied themselves with the
herbs and the brilliant flowers of early August.

It was a peaceful scene, with the mountains
tall and stately in the distance. Andrea found it difficult to
imagine that danger could lurk here, in Eleonora Farisi’s domain,
where order and reason, scholarly learning and good manners, were
paramount. Yet he knew that where Niccolo Stregone was, there was
always the chance of sudden violence and cruelty.

And
Stregone
was
nearby. Andrea could almost feel the man’s presence. From
the way Vanni looked from the garden to the mountains, Andrea knew
his twin was thinking about Stregone, too, and trying to calculate
where and when that devious man would strike.

Then the guards ranged themselves along the
terrace and Giuseppe pointed toward the sitting room door. Andrea,
Vanni, and Francesco all entered without protest, for this was
where they wanted to go. In the familiar room Eleonora, Bartolomeo,
and Valeria awaited them. But not the sisters.

Glancing around, Andrea noticed Bianca’s
doves rustling about in their cage. He saw Rosalinda’s Latin text
and her handwritten lesson on the table next to a scrap of
parchment bearing what he recognized as Bianca’s fine, even
handwriting with its graceful flourishes. Rosalinda’s handwriting
was not as elegant as Bianca’s, but it was clear and easy to read.
Diverted from his urgent purpose for a moment, Andrea smiled to see
the evidence of Rosalinda’s scholarly industry. The table looked as
if Rosalinda and Bianca had just left it. Andrea could picture
Eleonora sending her daughters from the room as he and his
companions approached the villa.

Knowing Rosalinda as he did, Andrea thought
it likely that she and her sister would not be far away. He
wondered if Rosalinda, with her warm heart and her insistence on
her personal freedom, would find a way to join them. Or had
Eleonora ordered Rosalinda and Bianca confined to their rooms
during this visit?

“Why have you come here?” Eleonora did not
waste time on polite greetings or flowery inquiries about the
health of her unbidden and most unwelcome guests.

“Madonna.” Pulling off his hat with a
flourish, Vanni went down on one knee before her. “We have much to
tell you, but first and, I believe, dearest to your heart, we are
here to announce to you that the Guidi no longer rule either
Monteferro or Aullia. Andrea has been proclaimed Duke of Aullia. As
for Monteferro, I have come as promised to lay the city at your
feet and at the feet of your sweet daughter, Bianca. I am here to
proclaim the restoration of the Farisi to Monteferro.”

It was a bold speech, and one typical of
Vanni. Eager though Andrea was to warn these people against Niccolo
Stregone, still he noted with interest the play of conflicting
emotions across Eleonora’s face. In her reaction to Vanni’s
declaration, Andrea hoped to see some indication of what Eleonora
would say when he asked for Rosalinda’s hand.

“And what reward do you expect for your
valorous deeds?” Eleonora asked, staring down the length of her
high-bridged nose at Vanni on his knees. In her silver-gray brocade
gown, with her hair dressed high and rubies dangling from her
earlobes, she looked every inch the duchess.

“Madonna,” Vanni said, “I hold Monteferro so
securely in my control that I was able to leave the city without
concern for what would happen during my absence. It is my honor to
offer Monteferro to you.”

“In payment for what?” Eleonora demanded in a
voice like ice.

“I ask only the hand of your beautiful Bianca
in marriage,” Vanni answered. “I love her with all my heart, and I
will endeavor to make her happy for the rest of her life.”

“Keep Monteferro,” Eleonora said, still in
that same icy voice. “Keep it until I find a way to take it from
you. As for my daughter, I told you when last you were here that I
would never give either of my children to the sons of Federigo
Sotani, and I have not changed my mind. At that time, my daughters
told the two of you that they agreed with my decision. They have
not changed their minds, either.”

“Let us hear it from their own lips,” Andrea
said.

He had to see Rosalinda. Standing in the room
where they had passed so many contented evenings during the
previous winter, he knew he could not live another hour without
sight of her. When Rosalinda and Bianca were in the sitting room,
then he would warn all of them at once about Niccolo Stregone.
Eleonora hated Stregone more than she hated Andrea or Vanni. She
would heed his words. If, for some perverse reason of her own, she
chose to ignore what he said, Andrea was sure Bartolomeo would
listen. In the meantime, all he wanted was Rosalinda within his
vision.

“Let Rosalinda look me in the eye, and Bianca
look Vanni in the eye, and let each of them say of her own free
will that she refuses to marry a man who has honestly won her,”
Andrea insisted.

“After you have heard a repetition of what
you already know,” Eleonora told him, “you will be escorted off my
land and never again will you be permitted to set foot on it. The
next time we meet, you three will be prisoners and Monteferro will
belong to the Farisi in truth, not offered as a bribe from the
children of a murderer.

“Valeria,” Eleonora turned to her friend,
“will you ask Bianca and Rosalinda to come to the sitting
room?”

“They aren’t at home,” Valeria said. “They
went riding.”

“No!” Andrea exclaimed, his thunderous tone
causing Valeria to jump backward a step.

“How long ago did they leave?” Vanni
demanded.

“Did they say where they were going?”
Francesco asked.

“Bianca said only that Rosalinda wanted some
exercise and that she was going, too,” Valeria answered, looking
from one grim masculine face to another as she spoke. “It was,
perhaps, three hours ago.”

“Andrea, we have to find them,” Vanni
exclaimed.

“You will do no such thing,” Eleonora
declared. “Is that your scheme? To kidnap my daughters, to carry
them away and marry them by force? Guards! Come in here!”

“Will you forget your stubborn, misdirected
resentment long enough to listen to me?” Andrea caught Eleonora by
the wrists so quickly that she could not prevent what he did, and
he held her facing him so he could look directly into her furious
eyes as he spoke.

“Vanni and I mean no harm to your daughters.
Niccolo Stregone has escaped from Aullia after making threats
against Bianca. We believe he is on his way to Villa Serenita, if
he is not here already.”

“Hold!” Bartolomeo shouted, stopping the
guards who had rushed into the room at Eleonora’s cry and who were
now about to take Andrea and Vanni into custody. Giuseppe had his
hand on Andrea’s arm to pull him away from Eleonora, but he stepped
back at Bartolomeo’s order.

“Madonna Eleonora,” Bartolomeo said, “I
suggest we hear what Andrea has to say about Stregone. Andrea, if
you will release the lady, I guarantee the guards will not touch
you.”

Andrea let go of Eleonora’s wrists. She
staggered and Francesco put an arm around her waist. When she
pulled away from him, he removed his arm at once, but he did keep a
hand at her elbow to steady her, and to that she did not object.
She remained standing close to Francesco while Andrea revealed all
they knew and what they had guessed of Stregone’s intentions.

“Do you expect me to believe these
fabrications?” Eleonora asked scornfully when Andrea was done.
“This is an excuse you have invented to gain entrance to the
villa.”

“Are you willing to risk your daughters’
lives on that unfounded accusation?” Andrea demanded. “Will you
allow old bitterness and anger, and your own stubbornness, to rule
your actions now?”

“No.” On Eleonora’s face, fear replaced anger
and scorn. She went white and began to tremble. Swallowing hard,
she leaned against Francesco for support, and when she spoke again
her voice shook. “Of course not. Nothing matters more to me than
Bianca and Rosalinda and their safety.”

“We must begin a search at once,” Vanni said.
“We have to find Bianca and Rosalinda before Stregone does.”

“Yes,” Bartolomeo agreed. He then proceeded
to give concise orders to the guards, who left the room as soon as
he was done.

“I’m going with them.” Andrea headed for the
door and the terrace.

“So am I.” Vanni was right behind his
twin.

“Not so fast.” Bartolomeo blocked their way.
“I can see you have ridden hard, and you probably haven’t eaten
recently.”

“I don’t care about that,” Vanni exclaimed.
“I am going to find Bianca.”

“The guards who were here will begin the
search and will inform their comrades to be on the watch for
Stregone. Take half an hour,” Bartolomeo advised. “Eat, drink, and
catch your breath. Your minds will be the clearer for the respite
and thus you may find the girls more easily.”

“There’s sense in what he says,” Francesco
spoke up. “I know I would search with greater energy after a chunk
of bread and a wedge of Madonna Valeria’s good cheese.”

“You shall have it, and a pitcher of wine
besides.” Valeria left the sitting room, heading for the
kitchen.

“The first thing to do,” Francesco said, “is
decide where Bianca and Rosalinda would be most likely to go. I
suspect Rosalinda will be the leader.”

“She is as bold as ever her father was.
Always, she prefers to ride the higher trails,” Bartolomeo said,
“though whether Bianca will agree to accompany her on those paths,
I cannot say. Let us hope they stay together. It will make our task
easier.”

“
I know
some of Rosalinda’s favorite trails. I can show them to you,”
Andrea offered. He thought of a rock-fall across a narrow path, and
then of a sunlit meadow with a clump of tall fir trees where he and
Rosalinda had spent a passionate afternoon. He grew warm at the
memory of her kisses and of the sweet curves of her firm young
body. If ever he held her in his arms again, it would take the
devil himself to tear them apart. The devil or Niccolo
Stregone.

Valeria arrived with a tray hastily piled
with food and drink. In addition to the bread and cheese requested
by Francesco and the promised pitcher of wine, she had included a
platter of grapes and juicy plums.

“Leave that on the table,” Eleonora
instructed. “Let the men serve themselves. Come with me, Valeria. I
will need your assistance.”

After a quick look in Bartolomeo’s direction,
Valeria followed Eleonora from the room.

During the next half hour, while the men
refreshed themselves, they discussed with Bartolomeo the
arrangements for securing the borders around Villa Serenita so no
one could enter.

“Of course, it is impossible to guard the
paths into and out of the mountains as I would like,” Bartolomeo
said. “I have always relied on the river as a barrier to intrusion
and have set men to guard the meadow and, most particularly, the
old Roman bridge and the ford across the river at the other end of
the valley.” Bartolomeo broke off suddenly, staring as Eleonora and
Valeria returned.

Eleonora had changed her clothes and was now
wearing a dark blue woolen riding dress, with her hair tightly
braided and confined beneath a net. With its loose lines and long
sleeves that buttoned at the wrist, the gown was at least fifteen
years out of style, yet it set off Eleonora’s upright posture and
still slender figure to perfection, and the color emphasized her
pale complexion, giving her a curiously youthful appearance in
spite of her worried expression and the hard set of her mouth. She
wore matching blue leather gloves and carried a small riding
whip.

“I am going with you,” Eleonora announced to
the startled men.

“Madonna,” Andrea protested, “there could be
danger.”

“If there is danger for me,” she responded,
speaking so readily that it was clear she had thought about her
arguments before appearing in the sitting room, “then my daughters
will face even greater dangers. How could I not join the search for
them, so I can be with them when they need me? You cannot stop me,
Andrea. Nor you, either,” she snapped, her eyes on Francesco’s
face.

“Madonna, I admire your courage,” Francesco
told her. “But have you considered what you are risking?”

“I know exactly what the stakes are,”
Eleonora said. “Bartolomeo, tell the stable hands to saddle a horse
for me.

“
Valeria,” Eleonora went on, “prepare a room in case there
are injuries to be treated. You will need bandages, ointments,
needles and thread—”