Starling (2 page)

“What?” she asked. She looked down at the water, her eyes tracing the path of the wooden oar as it cut through the lagoon, before
letting her gaze return to her fiancé. He was still watching her. “You’re
staring.”
“I was thinking that each time I feel I know you, you surprise me
again.” His voice was low but full of warmth, like if he were feeling a
bit stronger, he might lean over and kiss her.
Cass fumbled one of the oars at that thought. As she reached out
to retrieve it, she remembered a trip in a batèla she’d made with
Falco. It was the night they had found the body of Sophia, Joseph
Dubois’s former servant. Cass’s cheeks grew hot as she thought of
Falco tugging at fabric and undoing laces, at the two of them tangled
together beneath a blanket as their mouths tasted each other.
Idiota,
she cursed herself. She was certainly full of surprises. Unfortunately,
not all of them would make Luca look at her with such tenderness.
“You’re starting to get winded. You should let me take a turn,” he
said.
Cass shook her head. She’d force herself to row until her back was
breaking and her hands were bleeding before she did that. Luca
would reinjure his shoulder if he tried, and besides, she
deserved
to
suffer. She had dishonored him with Falco. She had put her handmaid in harm’s way, and Siena had died. Cass didn’t know if she
would ever forgive herself.
She followed the southern coastline of the Giudecca around to the
east and then turned south before reaching San Giorgio Maggiore.
The shore of San Domenico appeared out of the mist, its tall grass
blowing back and forth as if beckoning to her. Cass navigated the
boat past an open field and around to Agnese’s dock. She looped a
coil of rope around one of the mooring posts. Tying what she hoped
was a secure knot, Cass rose slowly to her feet in the wobbling craft.
Luca took her arm and steadied her as she alighted from the boat.
She turned to give him her hand as he stepped from the batèla after
her.
They stood at the edge of the dock, uncertain, a pair of silhouettes backlit by the moon. Cass couldn’t believe she was home again.
It had been only a week, but the place felt alien to her. Patches of the
normally neatly manicured lawn were unkempt, the shrubbery that
framed the front of the villa beginning to overtake the grass. Her
knees went a bit quivery, and her heart rose into her throat. Giuseppe
had never neglected his gardening duties. What did it mean?
“Cass? What is it?” Luca asked.
Rather than explain why the unruly hedges seemed a harbinger of
bad tidings, Cass stepped from the dock onto the lawn. Luca was
close behind her. As she neared the front door, she could see the
draperies of black fabric that covered the door and all of the windows.
Draperies that meant someone was dead.
A shudder moved through Cass. She reached out for the carved
molding around the door to steady herself, trying to deny to her
brain what her heart was screaming. Her aunt was fine—she had to
be. For all Cass knew, the swatches of fabric might be for
her.
Perhaps after failing to locate them, the Senate had declared Cass and
Luca dead. Agnese could have hung the ceremonial draperies to
honor Cass, despite having no body to bury.
Luca rested a hand on her back. His touch gave her the strength
to move forward, but the front door was locked, the villa completely