Waterfall (25 page)

“Nay, I do not. You are playing with me. You have not seen her.” I turned to leave.

He reached out and touched my arm, deceptively gentle. “I have. She is with the Paratores.”

I froze, hands on my skirts. The Paratores. Impossible. Right? Or most probable of all…. I had convinced myself we would’ve gotten to her before they had the chance.

Slowly, I turned to face him.

“Come closer, Gabriella,” he said. “What I have to tell you is for you to know alone.”

I moved closer, and he offered his hand. Reluctantly, I reached up to take it, and he pulled me into the corner, until my back was against the wall. He traced my cheek with the back of his knuckle, down to my jaw, then down my neck, studying me. There, he let his hand drop. “You did not let me finish. Evangelia resembles you, not in eye or hair color, but in the fine bone structure of your face. It is unmistakable. And she has drawn you, your portrait. I knew you as soon as I saw you.”

He did know Lia. How else would he know such things?

He stepped back, letting me absorb his words.

Two sets of boots came running into the courtyard.

Vannucci pressed a hand against my mouth and pushed me into the wall. “Stay… still,” he hissed.

It was Luca and Marcello, hands on the hilts of their swords, looking about madly. But they barely paused to peruse the shadows before they were off to the piazza. They thought I had gone out… to Il Campo, perhaps home to the palazzo.

Slowly, he moved away from me, the sick expression on his face telling me that he liked being close to me.

“What do you want from me? Why not take me immediately to her?”

He let out a humorless laugh. “There are a hundred different reasons, silly girl. The Paratores are Florentine. That presents certain… challenges.”

“But you were with them. You saw Evangelia.”

“I did.”

“Then you can get me to her too.”

“I could…if I chose to.”

I stared at him. What did he want?

He leaned in, his hand against the wall above me, to my right. With his left hand, he gently touched my temple, as if trying to coax a solution out of me. “Think, Gabriella. What would I want from you?”

Did the guy think I would…? My face twisted in revulsion. He laughed softly, as if he could read my thoughts. “Nay, I have plenty of women to warm my bed. I need something more from you.”

I cast about for what he was after, bewildered.

He leaned in, and his breath warmed my ear. “I want… Castello Forelli.”

I pushed him back and took a step away, unable to tolerate his proximity for a moment longer. He wanted me to sell out the people who had rescued me, fed me, sheltered me? The people who had done nothing but show me kindness?

He laughed again, circling me like a wolf about to devour a trembling, lone lamb. I ignored him, trying to figure out a solution, something else I might give him in exchange for my sister. “Is she a prisoner? Or a guest?”

“A guest, for now. Lord Paratore finds her fascinating. He says she showed up among the tombs two days past, the same tombs where he first saw you. She hit her head in her struggle with Paratore’s knights, and ever since, she has been speaking of a time ahead, that she `traveled through time.’ And,” he added, his eyes narrowing, “she remembers nothing of your `home’ in Dordogne.”

I stared at him, hard, glad that he seemed to think her demented. But she’d arrived only two days ago? When I’d been here a full week. “She …she must be terribly injured. I must see to her. At once.”

“And so you shall. The price of your reunion is but this one task: You must find a weakness in the castello that my allies can utilize.”

“You intend to hand over the castello to the Florentines?” I said incredulously.

He grabbed my arm, sending shards of pain to my shoulder. “Keep your voice down,” he hissed. He looked out to the courtyard and then back to me. “If you want to be with your sister again, you will help us gain access.”

“Every man in Castello Forelli will die defending her.”

“Nay,” he said dismissively. “No one’s ideals are as high as they believe. Life is too precious. They shall surrender.”

I shook my head. “You do not know the Forellis or their knights very well.”

“And you do not understand the intricacies of Toscana politics. Go, Gabriella. Fetch your sister and return to Normandy, if that is where you are truly from. Simply be on your way and never look back. Leave Toscana to us.”

I considered his words. Maybe it was best, for me to leave, fast, before I could mess it all up further. I’d done enough damage to Marcello and Romana’s coming marriage. Maybe I could somehow warn Marcello in time, after I had Lia…somehow, some way, we had to find our way out again. Without selling out the good guys.

At least, all the way. “How will I get word to you?”

A smile spread across his face and for the first time, I saw his white teeth, gleaming in the moonlight. “That’s a good girl. That’s a very good girl.” He leaned forward and pinched my right cheek between his thumb and forefinger. “I’ll come to you at Castello Forelli. They do not yet have just cause to decline me a measure of hospitality. Be certain you have what I need when I arrive.” He leaned closer, dropped his hand, brushed his lips swiftly across each of my cheeks, and then strode off, his dark cape fluttering behind him.

I wiped my cheeks with my hands-as if I could wash off his kisses-and shuddered.

The good news was that my sister was alive and within reach.

The bad news was I had just made a pact with the devil.

I hurried across the piazza, staying near the side in case I needed to pause and hide in the shadows. Marcello and Luca would freak if they knew I was out at night, unescorted. They were still looking for me. When they found I wasn’t in the palazzo, they’d probably return to the dance, certain they’d just missed me in the crowd.

I saw them then, moving through the tunnel, toward me. I ducked into a stone doorway and froze, listening to their muffled voices echo across Il Campo but unable to tell what they were saying.

I had to leave, return to Castello Forelli on my own, and figure out a way to get to Castello Paratore and free Lia before Lord Vannucci got there himself. Otherwise, I was doomed to play spy for them…and I couldn’t live with myself if I sold the Forellis out.

I thought through my plan to reach Castello Forelli. I could hide in the woods if I came across any rogue bands of mercenaries or soldiers. It was my only chance. In the light of day, I’d never make it.

The men disappeared into the Palazzo Pubblico and I rushed up and through the tunnel, then down Via di Banchi to the Rossis’ home. Hurriedly, I knocked at the door, and a wide-eyed servant allowed me access. “Lady Betarrini! Lord Forelli was just here, looking for you.”

“Yes,” I said, feigning confusion. “Somehow we got separated in the crowd at the dance and then I was outside, all alone.” I brought a hand to my chest as if even the memory brought me breathless with fear. “I am so frightfully weary. I believe I might be taking ill.”

“Oh, my poor, dear, lady.” She drew me in and shut the door, locking it behind me. I eyed the keys on her waistband, knowing I would need them to get into the stables and get a horse. There was no way I could walk all those miles in the stupid tapestry slippers. My feet would be a mass of broken blisters by the time I arrived. Lady Forelli had been my height, but clearly, her feet had been a half-size smaller.

She tucked her arm in mine and led me upstairs. “I’ll help you out of your gown and you can go right to sleep. You’ll see. You’re probably just overwrought with excitement over the ball and all those dashing young men.”

“I’m certain you are right,” I muttered, faking my agreement.

She unlocked the door and entered the room in front of me. Before she could hook the ring back on her waistband, I turned to her and presented the back of my gown. “Oh, please, dear lady. Suddenly I feel faint. I must be out of this dress in an instant!”

I forced back a small smile when I heard her drop her keys to the table as she immediately set about her task. I had seen enough of her to know she was kindhearted but a bit forgetful. Forgive me, friend, I thought, as I carefully placed my lace handkerchief over the keys.

“Would you like me to brush out your hair, m’lady?” she said once I had shed the russet gown.

“Nay, nay,” I said turning to her. “I can see to it myself. But I might want to take a turn on the rooftop, gain some air, if my stomach doesn’t settle. You know how it is. Can you help me into this other dress?”

I lifted my regular gown out of a trunk at the foot of my bed and handed it to her. She held it up as I put my arms in, then turned to allow her to button it up the back. “I know how you feel, m’lady. If I dare to eat onion, my stomach gives me fits all night.”

I hustled her to the door, and she paused there a moment, looking befuddled. She put her hands in her pockets as if looking for something. I held my breath. “Oh, dear. I have the strangest sensation I’m forgetting something.”

I bodily turned her and gently urged her outward again. “If you remember what it is, come back at once. It’s late, and no doubt you’re as weary as I.”

“Yes, yes,” she muttered, walking, not at all convinced, but obedient, above all things, just as a good servant ought to be.

I closed the door and leaned against it for a moment, then hurried to shove my other things in my two valises. I wrapped the bread in a cloth, and stuffed it in too. I took the round bottle of wine, emptied it in the chamber pot, and then filled it with water from a pitcher, popping the cork back in.

Then I rushed to the door and quietly pulled it open.

He nearly gave me a heart attack.

Marcello stood there in the doorway, left hand on the casing above, right thumb tucked into his waistband. Luca was across the hall, arms crossed, leaning back against the wall.

“Where are you going, Gabriella?” Marcello asked me.

“I have no time to explain,” I said, pushing past him.

He caught my arm and whirled me about. “You shall explain. It may be different in Normandy, but here in Toscana, only certain sorts of women scurry about unescorted in the night.”

I wrenched my arm from his grip and resumed my flight down the stairs, Marcello right behind me. I had no time for this. With trembling hands, I searched for the right key for the door that led to the stables.

“Nay,” Marcello growled, pulling the keys from me. They clattered to the ground. “You are not leaving!”

Luca came down the stairs slowly, and glanced back up, as if wondering if our voices would draw a servant.

But Marcello only continued to stare furiously at me.

“Marcello, I need to go,” I said urgently. “It is for the best. For you. For me. Please, please let me go.”

“Where are you going? You’ve only just been introduced to the men who might aid you in your-“

“Back to Castello Forelli,” I said, feeling as if I might cry. “If your father and brother will have me. Only for a few days, until I figure out where I will go next.”

He frowned at me in confusion. “Did something frighten you?”

“Nay,” I said, pacing a bit. He had to stay here-if he showed up, back home, Lord Vannucci might take Lia away, back out of the deal. I looked back up at Marcello and chewed my lip, considering what I could tell him. “I think Lia is back there, near your home. I want to get back. I fear I might miss her, and that we shall never be reunited.”

“You asked to come here.”

“And now that I see she isn’t here, I must move on.”

He took a deep breath and held it. “We will see you to safety. You can leave when you choose. I only intend that you not come to harm.”

“You cannot accompany me. What would Lady Romana think? You are betrothed to her, remember?”

He stepped back, as if my mentioning her name had splashed cold water on his face.

“I will escort you, then,” Luca said, stepping forward.

“Nay, nay. I will draw far less attention if I travel alone.”

“Untrue! Do you not remember what became of you the last time we traveled that road?” Marcello said.

“Exactly my point. We were part of a train full of soldiers. You are like magnets, pulling your enemy forces in. They will ignore a single rider.”

“Marcello…” Luca said. He held up a piece of paper.

The note. It must’ve fallen from my waistband when I disrobed, and Luca had nabbed it from my room. Marcello looked at me out of the corner of his eye and then reached for the paper. He unfolded it and scanned it.

I closed my eyes, bracing for what was to come.

“What does it say?” He leaned toward me. “Gabriella, what does it say?”

“He knows who has my sister,” I translated softly.

“Who? Who knows?” Marcello said. “Where is she? It was Lord Vannucci, wasn’t it? He was the one who gave you this note.”

I shook my head, my eyes still closed, and then let out a gasp when he took hold of my shoulders and shook me.

“Who has her?” he ground out, suspicion making his eyes cold, studying me. “There is only one family that would make you keep her whereabouts a secret.”

I nodded, looking to the stones at my feet. It was going to look bad, any which way I cut it. “The Paratores,” I whispered. I looked up at him, misery washing through me.