Mom tucked her head, frowning at my radical words. It’d take her a little while to get into this It’s Us or Them mind-set. Not that I was eager for her to know that the Fiorentini were on an all-out search for me and Lia. Marcello’s odd hesitation, and the look I’d caught the brothers sharing, made me return my attention to him.
Marcello edged closer. He shook his head a little. “Gabriella, they were tortured and imprisoned. But they were recently traded for Sienese prisoners.”
He took my hand, and out of the corner of my eye, I caught Romana stiffening. “They are far from here, Gabriella. No one shall harm you again. Not if I can help it.”
They were beautiful, warm words. But I knew that no person could protect another from death. Life was life—temporary, a blip on the screen. The doctor had poisoned me while Marcello danced with Romana in the same room! And Dad had died on a road not two miles from our apartment, maybe ten minutes after talking to Mom on the phone.
My eyes moved to Romana. Castello Forelli still might have a devil within her gates, a serious threat. Staring at her—pretty, demure, all Girl in Love—I knew I had to be right.
Or was I just jealous, wanting her gone from my life? This woman who almost became Marcello’s wife?
CHAPTER 3
Fortino called for a feast that evening, and within hours, we were sitting down to a table laden with roasted hens, roast pig, figs, currants, pears in Greek-wine syrup, meat pies, and generous loaves of bread. I spread a dollop of churned butter on my bread and eyed my mother as Fortino asked where we had finally been reunited.
“I was in Piacenza, convalescing from a fall,” she said. I had never known my mother to lie, but she did so with convincing authority. “My hired men turned on me, stole everything I had, and fled.” She shook her head in dismay.
“How horrid,” Romana said. “’Tis not safe for a woman to travel alone. Who might we thank for preserving you?”
Fortino coughed, and Romana immediately stood to pour more water into his goblet.
I stared for a moment. Since when did Romana play the servant? That was a new one. But even as she was pouring, she returned her gaze to my mother, not letting her off the hook.
“If it had not been for the kindness of pilgrims on the Via Francigena, I might have perished.” Smart, my mother was. Brilliant, really. Pilgrims on a holy road would be impossible to find and question. Gone come sunrise. Scattered.
Romana’s eyebrows came together in confusion. “Wherever did you stay, m’lady? With what funds?”
Mom stared back at her, the hint of a smile on her lips. “The pilgrims paid for my lodging, leaving me enough to see me to health.”
“Just like the good Samaritan,” Fortino said, patting Romana’s hand as if to say, That’s enough now. Let it go.
“Indeed,” said my mother. “My daughters found me just before I would have been cast out.”
“Saints be praised,” Fortino said.
“Saints be praised,” said the rest of the table.
But Romana’s voice was little more than a whisper.
“When word reaches Siena that the Ladies Betarrini have returned,” Fortino said, “oh, the feasting shall be grand indeed.”
“Add to that the union of the house of Rossi with the house of Forelli,” Romana added, “and there won’t be a wine cask left corked.”
My smile faded when I saw Marcello. He looked grim and was shaking his head. “We cannot take them to Siena,” he said to his brother, carefully avoiding looking my way.
“We can do nothing but,” Fortino replied. He was much more forceful in his speech than I remembered. A new man, really. Was it his health? Love? The promise of a future? He gestured over to us. “They’ll drive us home at the point of pitchfork and sword if we do not bring the She-Wolves of Siena to be properly honored. What happened here, on their last eve—we all bear the burden of responsibility to right such wrongs. And mark my words, Lord Rossi shall be the most insistent of all.”
Marcello leaned forward, eyebrows furrowed. He shook his head again. “Brother, it is best that the Ladies Betarrini stay here.”
Fortino made a dismissive sound and threw up his hands. “Who is the lord of this house?” He smiled as if trying to reassure us, but the look he sent his brother was unmistakable. It said, Back off, baby brother. “Put your faith in me, m’ladies,” he said. “I will see to it that the road from Castello Forelli to Siena has never been safer than the day we make our way there.” He picked up Romana’s hand and kissed it.
But my eyes were on Luca and Marcello. They were sharing one of Those Looks.
It was never good when they were sharing one of Those Looks.
Fortino went on, “Truly, Gabriella. If any Fiorentini wishes to try to capture you, they’ll have to get through hundreds of men. They’d have to bring an army capable of full-fledged war. Our scouts would see them coming from miles away. We’ll have ample opportunity to get you to safety. Good?” His eyebrows lifted.
I studied him, so full of life, bravado, hope. All the things I’d wished for him but never thought he’d see. Not really. And now, here he was before me. Lord Forelli, and relishing every bit of the part. I even had a brief thankful thought toward Romana for giving him a glimpse of love, happiness, a future. Who was I to stand in the way of this man and…life, lived to the full? Wasn’t that exactly what I had to convince my mom and sister to allow me to do? If he wanted to take us to a party, what harm could there be in it?
I dared to glance in Marcello’s direction and read the warning there. But what was I to do? I mean, really? “Whatever you believe is best, m’lord,” I mumbled in Fortino’s direction.
“Excellent!” cried Fortino with a broad grin. He rose. “I propose we begin the celebration this very night. The Ladies Betarrini have returned! To their return!” he said, lifting his goblet.
“To their return!” thundered all in the room.
But Marcello did not raise his goblet with the rest.
Fortino—who’d apparently discovered his inner wild child—ordered musicians into the hall and led everyone in dancing, though he never danced with anyone but Romana. The party finally died down in the Great Hall a couple of hours later. Lia and I slipped out to show Mom around, pointing out the pentagon shape of Castello Forelli and where the kitchen and stables were. As we walked back down the corridors toward our room, I said, “Up here is Lord Fortino’s den, where he spends a large part of his leisure time.” I peeked around the corner and then abruptly pulled back, bumping into my mom and Lia.
“Ow,” Mom complained.
“Sorry,” I whispered. They were in there. Fortino and Romana. Grinning across a chessboard like they were any old dating couple. I frowned, thinking. Dancing and now chess. Could it be? Had they really fallen in love? Just like that?
A heavy door shut behind us, making me jump. From the shadows, Marcello emerged. “M’ladies,” he said. “On whom are we spying?” His eyes twinkled in the candlelight.
“We are not spying,” I hissed back. “We are simply having difficulty; rather, we are feeling awkward—” I let out a sigh of frustration. “We do not wish to intrude.”
“Nonsense,” he said, putting a hand at my lower back and propelling me forward. “The sooner we ease this tension, the better off we’ll all be,” he said. He looked back at my mom and sister. “Would you care to join us, m’ladies?” he asked in a normal voice. “Mayhap we can convince Fortino and Romana ’tis time for a round of Tric-Trac. We can play in rounds.”
I forced a smile to my face and nodded at the couple on either side of the chessboard. Two maids-in-waiting looked up from their needlework in the corner. Of course. Chaperones. I’d probably have to get used to the idea, if I wanted to come off as a real lady, worthy of someone like Marcello.
But as Marcello brought more chairs
to the table, Mom leaned toward me. Lia did the same. “I need to turn in, Gabs,” Mom said, lifting a hand to her temple. “I have quite the headache.” Lia nodded, as if she felt the same. I knew what they meant. I had one too; maybe a side effect of traversing six hundred–plus years? It didn’t really matter to me; I wasn’t about to miss a second with Marcello, headache or not. “Go on,” I said. “I’ll join you in a little while.”
Mom nodded, and Marcello neared. “Lady Evangelia and I must return to our quarters,” she said to him. “We are weary beyond measure from our journey, but my eldest seems to have more energy than we. Might you look after her and see her to our door when your game is complete?” So, yeah, Mom was ahead of me on the whole escort deal.
“It would be my honor,” he said with a small bow.
She glanced from him to me, a smile alight in her eyes. She looked as proud as if she were pinning a corsage on my prom dress, and I shifted, embarrassed. “Good night, Mother,” I said, wanting them outta there, like now.
They turned, and in spite of myself, I stared after them until they disappeared into the dimly lit corridor. They totally looked like the real deal. Seriously. Like they’d always lived in 1342, rather than popping in for a visit from the twenty-first century. There was no way I looked that good. It was no wonder Romana suspected me as much as I suspected her.
She rolled the dice. “You shall have to teach me this game,” I said, staring at the board—which looked a bit like a backgammon board—and pegs.
All three of them stared at me. “You have never played Tric-Trac?” Romana asked. “How can that be? ’Tis a game of the Normans.”
I gave her a slight lift of my shoulders. “It is not popular in our circles at home.” Lay off, chick. It can’t be that crazy.
“Mayhap we should begin an import business,” Marcello casually said to his brother. “Sets of Tric-Trac. We could make a fair fortune, since it seems the Normans have yet to capitalize on it.”
Fortino cocked a brow and nodded, and I smiled again, taking in the sheer health of him. So different from the last time I’d seen him. I had wondered if I’d see him or his father again. While Lord Forelli had passed on, Fortino appeared to be on the brink of a new life. As he patiently explained the rules of the game to me, he and Romana shared several secretive, lingering glances. It was as if her relationship with Marcello had long been forgotten—as if she had never had eyes for anyone but the eldest Forelli.
I stared hard at her, trying to see if I detected any bit of fakey-ness, but could see nothing but honest, girly love in her eyes. Maybe I’d done them all the ultimate favor, splitting Marcello and Romana up, so she could get together with his brother. As we began to play, my eyes fell on a leather-bound copy of The Golden Legend on the table between two wooden chairs. “Have you moved on from your readings of Dante, m’lord?” I asked casually, moving my peg two notches along the board.
“Nay, ’tis Lady Romana who has taken to reading of the saints,” Fortino said, shaking the dice in his hand. He paused to smile over at her. “An early wedding present from me.”
I imagined the two of them in a Sienese bookshop. Books in these days cost a fortune. “You have suffered no relapse in your health, m’lord?”
He pursed his lips and laid down a card, and then his brown eyes met mine. “There are good days and there are bad. But most are good, now that Romana has agreed to be my bride.” He lifted her hand again and kissed it. She smiled indulgently in his direction. I sighed inwardly. The two of them were a bit disgusting with all the lovey-dovey stuff. Were Marcello and I that bad?
I looked his way, and he smiled gently back at me. We really hadn’t had a chance to be together, day by day. To just be. It had been crazy, the last time I was here, dashing from one battle to the next. Would we settle into plain old boring life as these two had? I hoped not. And then I changed my mind. It wouldn’t be all bad, always being together, sharing covert glances, stolen kisses.
I sneaked another glance at Romana and Fortino. They seemed good. Solid. Real. As long as Romana was not an assassin, and she wasn’t trying to steal back Marcello, who was I to get in the way of love?
I looked back at Marcello. Was he really over her? Was he truly mine, through and through? A warm sensation flooded through me, so sudden it stole my breath for a moment.
We finished the game, Marcello, Fortino, and Romana bantering all the while, as I struggled to keep track of the rules.
“Friends,” I said when Romana emerged as the victor. “I can see that I shall enjoy this game very much, but I must beg your leave and retire to my quarters. I am suddenly so weary I fear I might nod off right here and now.”
“May your sleep be sure and sweet,” Fortino said. He and Marcello rose with me. “I’ll return in a little while,” Marcello said to them. “I shall not rest until I have beaten you both.”
“It shall be a long evening, then,” Romana said, daring him with a cocked brow. Fortino laughed, and I forced another smile, pretending that it didn’t matter at all to me that Marcello intended to return here, near her. I had to get over this suspicion and fear and jealousy. Get a grip, Gabi. He left her for you.
We headed to the next corridor, but at the turret stairs, Marcello paused and gestured upward with his chin. “Shall we? For but a moment?”
Going anywhere with him sounded perfect to me. Outside for a breath of fresh air, under a blanket of celestial stars? Better than Black Friday and a wallet full of cash.
I smiled as Marcello took my hand and led me up the curving staircase. I loved the feeling of his warm fingers and palm covering mine! I shivered in excitement, still trying to convince myself that this was all totally real.
We emerged through the small door that led to the parapet—the castle walkway, at the top of the walls, beyond the crenellated barrier. Ahead of us was a man, hand on the hilt of his sword, staring outward and walking away from us. Marcello put a finger to his lips—shh!—and pulled me around the corner, out of the guard’s view, and then into his arms. He bent and kissed my lips, softly at first, then more insistently. “Much better than Tric-Trac,” he said, stroking my hair, and then, cradling my cheek, kissed me again, more eagerly.
He pulled back after a moment, eyes closed, as if wanting to memorize this moment. I knew the feeling. “How I’ve longed for you, Gabriella,” he said.
“I was gone but hours,” I said with a smile.
“For you,” he said, shaking his head. “’Tis still nearly impossible for me to believe. If I hadn’t carried you in there, so close to perishing, seen you disappear…Indeed, if Luca had not been beside me to witness it, I might’ve thought you were nothing but a figment of my imagination.”
“Have you told no one?” I asked, wrapping my arms around him.
“Not a word, to a single soul,” he said, tucking a strand of my hair over my ear and kissing the top of my head. “We’d all be tried for madness and found guilty. They’d call us wicked, turn us out.”
That sounded pretty un-fun. “Marcello…what of Romana? Did you…were you not…”
He waited until I looked into his eyes, then shook his head. “What I feel for you, Gabriella, is nothing like what I shared with her. I feel kinship with her. Responsibility. A general fondness. Not love.”
“And Fortino? Does he love her?”
“Fortino is glad to be embracing life. He is happy to have a pretty woman on his arm, a future ahead of him. He is content to fulfill our family’s duty to Siena. But you saw them for yourself—there seems to be more between them than there ever was between me and Romana.”
“I’m not certain I could marry anyone out of a sense of duty.” I pulled him closer, so glad there was more between us than that.
“I very nearly did. Is it so different in your age?”
Uhh, yeah. In a hundred different ways. “People rarely m
arry for anything but love. Some live together and forgo marriage.”
He pulled back, looking at me as if I was joking.
“Truly,” I said.
“And what does the Church say of this?”
I cocked my head and thought about that. “I think they don’t like it, but I really don’t know.”
“You do not know? What of your priest?”
“I…I have no priest.”
“You mean your church is waiting on a new priest to be sent?” He pulled back a little farther, looking hard at me.
My mouth felt dry. Why was I suddenly feeling separated from him? Why was he making such a big deal of it?
“No, I mean, we don’t attend mass. Christmas, Easter, we go. But beyond that…”
He stared at me, hard. I shifted, uncomfortable when he remained silent.
“Gabriella, you are baptized? You believe in God?”
“Well, yes. Of course.” Most people I knew believed in the Big Guy. Or at least some sort of Good Force. A Creator. I knew a few agnostics and atheists, too, but most of them took the title to get attention.
He seemed relieved by my answer, and I was more than ready to move on to another subject. I took a step away. “Marcello, are you certain Romana had no idea that the doctor was poisoning me?”
“Would I allow my brother to marry her if I thought her capable of such duplicity?”
I let his question go unanswered. He had good reason to give her a second chance, with all of Siena lobbying for a union between the house of Rossi and the house of Forelli. But even with that pressure, Marcello obviously thought her innocent. But that didn’t mean she was. Was he simply so happy to be relieved of his duty that he was willing to overlook any lingering questions? This whole dumping one brother for another was new to me—I couldn’t imagine Lia dating someone who’d broken up with me. But for these guys, it seemed as if it was totally fine. I didn’t get it. Maybe you had to be born here, in this time period, to understand.
The River of Time Series Page 34
