by Rosanna Leo
I respected him even more for it.
I did experience a surge of jealousy when a woman sitting behind me made a comment about Finn’s “sexy legs.” However, when I recalled how those legs had entwined with mine the previous evening, the emotion fizzled.
He’s all mine. And I couldn’t have been more proud.
But you’re mine. Have you forgotten?
The voice came out of nowhere. Clear and loud, it seemed to emanate from just over my shoulder. I looked at Joseph. “Did you say something?”
He shook his head. “The concert’s about to start. Here comes Lizzy.”
Ignoring the voice in my head, I turned back in time to watch Lizzy and the other strings take the stage. They bowed as the audience clapped and then took their seats, waiting for Finn’s cue. As he raised his baton, demanding everyone’s attention and getting it, I held my breath. As they started to play, I sighed and convinced myself I was fine.
Hugh hadn’t shown his face in a while, and although the voice had been his, I wasn’t willing to acknowledge it. Not here, not now.
Rather, I gave the musicians my full attention. Lizzy looked beautiful. As she played, confidence radiated from her defined movements, even though I knew how she obsessed over her playing. Striking, with her red hair draped over one shoulder, she proudly displayed the telltale mark of a violinist, the hickey-like mark under her jaw. Lizzy had never been embarrassed about the mark. For her, the permanent bruise was an accessory, her only ornament over a clinging, black gown. She inspired a couple of comments from a man sitting next to Joseph. He continued to mumble his appreciation until Joseph turned and glared at him, murder in his gaze.
It seemed I wasn’t the only jealous one.
I watched and listened, but it didn’t take me long to realize I was only half-listening. Keeping an ear attuned for Hugh’s disembodied voice, my attention began to stray. With Vivaldi’s delicate strains as a musical backdrop, I couldn’t stop envisioning the scenes described in the journal. Malanotte raping Claudia, taking pleasure in her agony. Hugh, carrying her lifeless body back to the manor to bury her. And then his descent into the darkness that claimed him.
Did Malanotte’s curse actually take hold?
I thought back to the moment when I spoke at Hugh’s grave. It was only as I tried to tell him he wasn’t responsible for Claudia’s death that I was assaulted by the sensation of having my airway restricted. I had thought it was my incubus up to his old tricks, but now I wondered if another force was at play. Someone, something, did not want me offering Hugh absolution. Someone wanted him to suffer. Forever.
Malanotte.
Perhaps I’d been going about this the wrong way in trying to address Hugh. Maybe I needed to confront his nemesis instead.
Chapter Fourteen
After the concert ended, Joseph and I went backstage to meet Finn and Lizzy to congratulate them. Finn spotted me and came over, his arms outstretched, his mouth spread in a satisfied smile.
He embraced me. “Well? Was it any good?”
“Are you kidding? It was amazing.” I burrowed against his chest, breathing him in. “Oh, and the ladies in the audience certainly admired your…sporran.”
He looked at me and cocked a playful eyebrow. “Should I have lifted my kilt and mooned them?”
“You can moon me.” I checked to make sure no one was watching and slipped my fingers under his waistband, reveling in the touch of bare skin at the upper curve of his ass. “You Scots. Any excuse to take your drawers off.”
“If that’s an official complaint, Lark, you need to take your hand off my arse.”
As he leaned in to kiss me, I spied a small cluster of people over his shoulder. Festival big wigs, waiting to talk to Finn. I slipped my hand from his waistband and patted him on the chest. “Your fans await. Go.”
Despite our interrupted kiss, his face lit up with anticipation. He’d worked hard on the festival program and I wouldn’t deny him the limelight now. He deserved it.
“Come with me.”
“I’ll be over in a bit. I’m just going to pop over to the manor for a few minutes.”
He frowned. “Why?”
“I want to talk to Margaret, that’s all.”
“No wandering in the portrait gallery?”
“I promise. No wandering in the portrait gallery.”
He stared at me for an extra moment, squeezed my hand, and walked away to greet the well-wishers. I craned my neck to spot Lizzy and saw she was surrounded by music fans as well. I waved to catch her attention. When she waved back, I knew it was safe to make my exit.
Slipping through the groups of patrons and classical music groupies, I headed back to the path leading to the front door. I went inside, sidestepping the line of tourists gathered at the front, and headed to the administrative office doors. After winding my way through the basement, I arrived at Margaret’s office and knocked on the closed door.
“Come in,” she called. When she saw me, she smiled. “Ah, Renata. Not singing today?”
“No. Soon, though.” I sat in the chair opposite her.
“And how are…things?”
“Okay,” I ventured. “Only I have a question about Malanotte. What happened to his body after Hugh killed him? And why wasn’t Hugh imprisoned?”
She made a humming noise. “Don’t forget, dear. The innkeeper claimed he saw the whole thing. Apparently, his account was accepted as gospel. Hugh was never charged with the count’s murder. It was accepted Malanotte killed Claudia and that the scion of the manor killed him in retribution.” Her lips compressed as she put her pen down on the desk. “As for the count, they gave him a pauper’s funeral. It seems he had no surviving family and rumors of his wealth had been exaggerated. Hugh’s father paid for a simple burial, perhaps out of regret for his son’s situation.”
“But where did they put him?”
Margaret thought for a moment. “Actually, he was buried in the churchyard at St. Bartholomew’s. There’s no marker. He was placed in a grave just inside the east wall, the furthest corner from the church.” She paused. “Why do you ask?”
“Because it’s time I paid Count Ignazio a visit.” I stood and headed for the door.
She followed me. “I don’t think that’s the best course of action.”
I continued walking, undeterred. “That’s the problem with this situation, Margaret. I have no course of action. I’m tired of reacting and I don’t know how to fight a ghost. I’m not sitting around, waiting for Hugh to visit me again on a whim. I’m not sitting still anymore while Malanotte’s curse causes more women to waste away. I won’t be one of them and I’m not going down without a fight.”
I got as far as the front hall before she spoke again. “Don’t you think you should bring Finn with you?”
Finn. Sighing, I realized I’d promised him I wouldn’t go looking for trouble. Of course, I’d really only said I’d stay away from the portrait gallery, so I wasn’t breaking any vows. I opened the front door and headed outside. “Finn’s very busy right now. I don’t want to disturb him.” Margaret followed me down the path and toward the short road leading to the church, objecting the whole way. As we reached the churchyard, I finally turned to her. “You don’t have to stay with me.”
“I can’t leave you here by yourself.”
“I’m not afraid.” In saying the words, I realized I wasn’t—for the first time in a long time. Malanotte might have destroyed Hugh’s life, and several other lives in the process, but I wouldn’t let him have mine. I wasn’t sure if I believed in curses, or God, or magic. But I believed the count’s words of malice had taken on a life of their own, changing Hugh from a loving man into a vessel for evil. Someone had to stand up and try to stop the insane pattern.
I looked toward what I thought was the eastern corner of the graveyard and Margaret confirmed the direction with a nod. I walked across the lawn, taking care to step around the obvious graves, until I came to a patch of grass with no markers. Set und
er a large oak tree, it struck me as a picturesque location, better than Malanotte deserved. The groundskeeper obviously took pride in his work, even here in a section of the cemetery dedicated to vagrants, unknowns, and the odd criminal.
It seemed strange to confront a dead man on a green lawn while the sun shone, but it was as good a time as any. “Count Ignazio?” I called. “Are you here?”
I looked at Margaret, but she remained silent, her back to the wall, her face etched in concern.
Turning from her, I did a slow rotation on my spot, calling out to him. Feeling a little like the village idiot. “I know you killed her. Claudia Sebastiano. And all because she dared to resist you. But then, according to Hugh, you always liked it when women fought back, didn’t you? It got you excited.”
It might have been my imagination, but I swore a breeze rustled through the oak leaves above my head, on an otherwise-windless day. Craning my neck so I could peer into the branches, I gasped when coldness met my face, like a cyclone of air rushing toward me. I closed my eyes for a moment, absorbing the shock of frigidity on my warm skin.
Even though I knew I could pass off the phenomena as a stray breeze, by this point I took nothing for granted. Opening my eyes, I addressed him again. “I know you’re listening, Count Ignazio. I have a hard time believing you passed onto a better place. I think the same curse you used on Hugh has bound you here, as well.” I raised my voice. “You killed her, just as your actions led to the deaths of those other sopranos. I believe it and Margaret believes it. Don’t you, Margaret?”
I turned to face her. Silent, she leaned against the stone ledge behind her, face partially obscured by the shade from an overhanging branch. Her head bowed, she did not respond to my call.
“Margaret?”
With a slowness that made me ache in anticipation, she raised her head. I could only make out half of her face, but that half barely resembled her. Although still her features, they were transformed somehow. Made harsh and unfeeling. Her eyebrow cocked in grim amusement and her lip curled. And when she finally spoke, it was in a man’s voice and with an Italian accent.
“The old cow isn’t here, bella. It’s just you and me now.”
I took a step toward her, rather, him. “What have you done with her?”
Malanotte, clothed in Margaret’s body, stalked toward me. Amazed at the changes in her posture and gait, I froze in disbelief. The slight stoop to her back was gone and her eyes shone with a strange light.
“I am just borrowing her. But if I wanted to, I could kill her. It would be so easy right now to put a squeeze on her heart until it stops pumping.”
“You wouldn’t.”
“Wouldn’t I? No one would question her death. Certainly, no one would ever believe a ghost killed her. She would be just another old woman dying of heart failure.” He laughed. “I think I’d enjoy it.”
“Don’t. Please. Your beef isn’t with her. It’s with me.”
He put his hands together in surprise. “Beef? I have no beef with you, bella. And there’s no need for me to kill you. My puppet Hugh is doing a fine job of it himself.”
“He won’t kill me.”
“No? He killed me and he haunted those other women until they died.” He looked me up and down with lecherous ease. “Yes, you are proving more…stubborn. You haven’t withered away quite as easily, but you will. He’ll wear you down eventually. Hugh has no choice but to exploit your weaknesses. You are weak, my dear. Make no mistake. Just as weak as he was.”
“Why did you curse him? Why did you turn him into this…thing that ravishes women in their sleep?”
He stared at me for a moment and his expression froze me to the bone. “Because it pleased me. He took what I wanted most, so I took everything from him. An eternity of sexual torment is what Hugh Dawlish deserves,” he continued. “Always self-righteous. Always the proper English gentleman. I hope his morals keep him company in hell.”
“I will free him.”
“I’d like to see you try.” He laughed. “Ah, I’m afraid Hugh will spend eternity as a victim to foul desire. And, I assure you, his incubus nature will eventually destroy him as surely as it will cause your destruction. Every time he kills a woman who resembles Claudia, it tortures him a little more. I’ve ensured he’ll never know peace.”
“You talk a lot and you disgust me.”
“You amuse me.”
“I won’t let you win. I’ll make sure his suffering ends.”
“And I’ll see you in hell.” He tilted his head, grinning. “Ciao, bella.”
From out of nowhere, from him, the breeze once again lashed at me, like icy fingers trailing down my neck. I wrapped my arms around myself in a futile attempt to get warm. The sinister breeze ruffled through Margaret's white hair, lifting it, making it dance. Her eyes rolled back. Her body wove and then it crumpled, collapsing on the ground.
Dashing toward her, I kneeled next to her and supported her in my arms. “Margaret? Are you okay?”
It took a moment but her eyes fluttered open. “Renata. Did I take a funny turn?”
Relieved to hear her voice, and not Malanotte's taunting tones, I passed my hand over her hair. “You could say that. Come on. Let's get you back to the manor.”
“Had enough of cemeteries?” she joked in a weak voice as I helped her stand.
I looked back at the oak tree, now so still and calm. “I've definitely had enough of this one.”
»»•««
“Ooh, is that red? We’ll take more of that, please.” Lizzy smiled at the waiter and held out two glasses for him to fill. When he left, she handed one to me. “You look like you need a refill.”
“Is it that obvious? Maybe we should save some for the rest of the guests.”
As I glanced at the full bar, I knew there was no chance the caterer would run out of booze, but I wanted to keep a clear head. As part of the opening night festivities, we had gathered in the Dawlish Manor ballroom for a party to thank the patrons of Sonata. Everyone was there. Finn and Lizzy and I, and the rest of the musicians, administrative staff, and so many patrons I could barely move in the expansive room.
I had attended similar functions before with Anthony’s choir, but those cocktail parties were nothing compared to this affair. Some of the Sonata fans oozed old money with their unstudied elegance and conversations about private schools and horses. I thought I even heard one or two titles being bandied about and couldn’t help feeling a bit out of my league.
Glancing over to where Finn held court among a group of women clad in what I suspected to be designer clothing, I saw he had no such qualms. Of course, I reminded myself, he’d run in these circles growing up. Although from relatively “new” money, his father had many contacts in British society. Finn was at home here, as much as I was unsure of my home.
Would I move to London and stay with Finn when the festival ended, or would I return to Toronto? With everything going on, I had yet to confront this question.
“See the woman in the pink dress?” Lizzy said, interrupting my thoughts. “Joseph told me she’s some sort of countess.”
“Do they still have countesses?”
She rolled her eyes. “Fuck me if I know.”
Suppressing a giggle, I shook my head. “I’m glad you’re here. I don’t know how to talk to a countess. Am I supposed to curtsey? Or maybe I should hop on one foot while singing ‘Rule, Britannia!’”
Lizzy bit her lip and smiled. She stared at me for a minute as her eyes grew misty and then she leaned in for a quick hug. “You’re back, aren’t you?”
“I never went anywhere.”
“Yeah, my friend. You did. But the light’s back in your eyes. I haven’t seen it for a long time.”
I held her gaze and blinked back my own tears. “I haven’t felt it for a long time.”
“See what a good fucking can do. I knew Finn would be good for you.”
“Lizzy!”
She held up her hands. “What? It’s the truth.�
��
“It’s not just Finn. He’s been amazing…but I’ve decided to take my power back. I’ve decided to confront my ghosts.”
Since my encounter with Malanotte, since hearing him call me “weak” over and over, I decided I was tired of feeling vulnerable. Margaret had said I needed to deal with my demons, and I now understood the only way to accomplish this was to open myself up to old hurts.
I needed to talk about my parents with Finn. I’d put it off for years and couldn’t anymore. Malanotte had said my weakness was the same as Hugh’s, and I knew I wouldn’t be able to save either of us until I accepted it, and moved on.
I had to free myself of my crippling guilt, and the only way to do it was to talk about it.
A tear slipped from the corner of Lizzy’s eye and she swiped it away. “I’m so glad.”
Setting my wine glass on a nearby table, I grabbed her hands and squeezed them. “Lizzy, I want you to know something. Whatever happens, I love you like a sister. Nothing will ever change that.”
Her brows came together over her nose. “I love you, too, but what’s with the declaration?”
I smiled. “I just want you to know. That’s all.”
I didn’t have the heart to admit I wasn’t sure where my journey would lead. However, if it indeed killed me, as Malanotte promised it would, I didn’t want to leave anything unsaid.
Glancing over at Finn, I caught his eye and waved. He nodded at the elderly lady talking at him and rolled his eyes discreetly, smiling at me.
As soon as the party ended, I’d talk to him, too.
»»•««
It was about midnight when Finn and I crawled into bed…and into each other’s arms. Naked, but warm, I relished the glide of his skin against mine. He curled his fingers in my hair and brought my head to his chest, kissing the top of it. He didn’t say a word and made no sexual advances. I knew he was tired and I wouldn’t have pushed him.
But I did need to speak my peace before I lost my nerve. “Finn?”
