Bourne (River of Time 3.1 Novella) Read online

  I noticed he crossed himself when he spoke of his parents. "Your mother and father...they have passed on?"

  He nodded. "A good many years ago, after Adela left for the abbey. My father was head of the woolen guild in Siena, and they set off for Spain to see to their business. Their ship was lost at sea."

  "I'm so sorry."

  He peered at me and then shrugged. "We live, we die. I miss them, but their lives were lived well."

  We walked on for a bit, each lost in our own thoughts. Time and again, I couldn't get used to how the people of this age accepted death. "How long has it been since you have seen Adela, Luca?"

  He pursed his lips and furrowed his brow in concentration. "I know not. Eight, nine years? After our parents died, we lived with our aunt and uncle. Then she was accepted as a novice, and I was invited to Castello Forelli to train as a knight."

  I stared at him. Eight or nine years? "Truly?" I caught myself as he gave me a you're so weird look. "That is, I can't imagine being apart from Gabriella for so long."

  "Ah, yes," he said, his face moving back into a gentle smile. "Mayhap 'tis different in Normandy. Here, families tend to live their entire lives in the same village or town or castello, or they likely live very far apart indeed."

  I nodded. "So...do you hope to convince Adela to return with you here?"

  "I do. It's either Castello Forelli or my uncle's country villa, which is too close to the border, and far too difficult to defend, for my comfort." He stopped to glance back, surveying the rear guard following behind my parents and Gabi. When all appeared in order, he looked back to me and then reached down to take my hand. "I'd much prefer it if everyone I cared about would reside at Castello Forelli." He gave me a shy smile—one of the few such smiles I'd ever seen from him—and I squirmed under his gaze. That shyness was the antithesis of his constant flirtation, telling me it was real, not an act, his fondness for me. And I thought it pretty dang enticing.

  "It'd make it far simpler to keep you all in order," he said. "To have you all at the castello."

  I pulled away and resumed walking, smiling over his words. "So you believe you can keep us in order, then? Like a bunch of chickens in a coop?"

  "'Twould have to be a hen keeper worthy of Hercules' court, but a man can try." We shared a quiet laugh, and he lifted a fallen limb from the road and flung it into the woods. "I think you'll be fast friends with Adela," he mused. "If she is as I remember her."

  "Since she is kin to you, 'tis destiny that we shall be," I said. It was my turn to give him a shy smile.

  And it made Luca grin as widely as if I had just made it Facebook Official.

  ***

  That night we feasted, as was customary. Marcello insisted on coming down and was carried in to great cheers. Musicians were brought in, and there was dancing in the Great Hall, but there was a subdued feeling to it with so many men missing or sitting on the side, injured. In the end, I wished we had skipped it. Especially when the baker's daughter turned up, obviously intent on getting Luca to dance with her. She was about five inches shorter than me, with sultry brown eyes and long, luxurious brown hair. Oh, and did I mention that all her curves were, uh, pronounced? As in Snooki-with-more-clothes. There was not a knight in the courtyard that didn't watch her, chat with her, flirt with her, or dance with her.

  Except for my knight, I thought in satisfaction. I pretended not to care, not to notice, as Luca dodged her when she offered him a platter of fruit, and then again when she came by with a jug of wine, leaning suggestively over it to give him an eyeful of cleavage. She pouted that he ignored her, and turned to pour for every other man around her like she'd been assigned bar duty. They buzzed around her like bees drawn to honey.

  Then I got all pouty that Luca hadn't asked me to dance, absorbed as he was in one intent conversation after another with the men of the mysterious brotherhood who'd ridden to our defense—Conte Lerici, Sir Mantova, and Lords Santi, Gallo, Rizzo, Colombo and Hercolani. I knew they were all heading out tomorrow, but man, didn't the guy know I really, really wanted to dance with him? My folks were out dancing like they had to memorize every medieval dance step ever made, and Gabi was absorbed in lady-of-the-house stuff, overseeing both the festivities and her husband, who still looked pretty pale. But at least he was up and eating and drinking. That had to be a good sign.

  I tried to chat with some of the village women who I only knew by name—and had little in common with—and then gave up, sinking into a big chair near the fire. I sighed, wishing for the day Adela would come home with Luca. Maybe she could be the girlfriend I needed here. Because going stag to a castello dance was pretty much boring.

  "Lady Betarrini," said a man to my left. I turned, and Conte Lerici bowed. "Would you do me the honor of a dance?"

  "Certainly," I said, rising from my chair, trying to not get too excited. But maybe seeing me in the nobleman's arms would light a fire under Luca. The archers in Lerici's command—who weren't already on the dance floor—watched us as though they'd been assigned to do so. None of them had been brave enough to ask me to dance, but from the looks in their eyes, they wished they had. That was the problem with being one of the She-Wolves—it seemed like only the noblemen could approach us. It was like I wore an unwanted sign: Commoners Need Not Apply.

  Not that I wanted them to apply. I just wanted to dance. With Luca. But if Conte Lerici was the best I could do, well, I really had no complaints. He was about twenty-four—way too old for me—but pretty cute. And if he was a blood brother with Luca, then he was all right by me. Not that saving our glutei maximi during the battle really had to be topped.

  We bowed to each other, and he led me into the dance as easily as a duck takes to water, towing me along, giving me little clues as to when we were about to switch it up. I knew most of the dance steps, but he had a little showy addition—a lift of the arm, a twist, a twirl, a bow. I'd taken enough jazz/tap in my early years to follow his lead, which clearly delighted him. He lifted my hand to his lips and kissed my knuckles as others around us smiled and clapped for us as if we were on stage.

  "One more, m'lady?" Conte Lerici asked.

  I glanced over my shoulder at Luca, who was bending closer to the burly Mantova to hear him, apparently totally unaware that I was even on the dance floor. I turned back to my companion. "I'd be most pleased," I said.

  He smiled back at me and gestured for me to lead the way, as smoothly elegant as Lord Greco. Which brings to mind... I looked around but didn't see Mr. Tall Dark and Handsome anywhere. In fact, I hadn't seen him since we'd been to the tombs.

  "M'lord, have you seen Lord Greco since we returned this afternoon?" I asked Conte Lerici as he turned me once, twice.

  "Do you find me lacking as a dance partner, m'lady?" he mused, a smile behind his eyes.

  "Hardly, m'lord. I only wondered if he returned with the others."

  We went through eight more counts, drawing away from each other and then nearing again. "I believe he volunteered for patrol duty and rode out with Captain Pezzati."

  Ahh, I thought. It made sense. Luca wouldn't have allowed Rodolfo out of his sight after what had come down yesterday...unless a man like the captain was at his side. Pezzati was one of the few that Greco respected enough to listen to. Maybe it's his age, I decided. There weren't a lot of gray-haired knights around.

  "Will you kindly tell me something else?" I asked, giving Conte Lerici a slow lift of my eyelashes. I know, it was bad. But a girl's gotta use what she's got.

  He studied me as if trying to figure me out. "Anything, m'lady."

  I turned away from him, and we circled each other, back to back. When I turned again, I said, "Tell me of the brotherhood."

  The light and intrigue slipped from his eyes, leaving only concern. "That is a question for Lord Marcello or Sir Luca."

  "Oh, but m'lord... Why so secretive if 'tis nothing but good?"

  He studied me as he took my waist and turned with me. "There are many who would think it was more
than it is...and others who would think it was less."

  Well, gee, thanks, I thought. Way to give me a whole lotta nothin'. I tried a different avenue. "What brought you all together?"

  His smile partially returned. "Friendship. Long summer nights spent prowling the villages for beautiful young girls to court. Finding hidden mineral waters. Feasts to which we weren't invited but sneaked into anyway."

  "You didn't!"

  "We did," he said casually.

  "How many are there?" I asked as the music came to an end. "Did everyone that still lives ride to our defense?"

  He bowed and then kissed my hand, purposefully not answering. Then he straightened, still holding my hand in his. "'Tis Firenze's own question, now." His eyes were gentle, on mine. "And best you not know the details. For your own safety."

  I frowned, and then he let go of my hand. But instead of leading me from the floor, he bowed toward Luca, who took his place before me. Luca watched as his friend eased around a passel of hopeful girls still looking eager to score a dance before the night was through.

  A blush climbed my cheeks. Had Luca heard me trying to squeeze Conte Lerici for information? The music began again, and the ten couples left on the floor edged into the first steps. But Luca was not smiling.

  "Why were the last words from my friend, to you, 'for your own safety'?"

  I forced a smile. "Oh. 'Twas nothing. I only asked about your mysterious brotherhood. Rest assured, he danced around my questions as artfully as he took to the steps of that last song."

  We took a turn, and when I faced him again, he was still not smiling. "His words are true, Evangelia. You must not inquire further."

  It was my turn to frown. "But why? If it involves you...Marcello, Tomas, Rodolfo...isn't it best we know?" Wasn't their business our business now?

  "The brotherhood...given our success, Firenze will be keen to know more of it too."

  Firenze. I was so sick of their lurking threat I wanted to scream at the name.

  "Even in Siena—"

  "'Tis hardly a secret, right?" I interrupted. "Every responsive member rode to our defense."

  He hesitated, his frown deepening, and then I knew. There were some who wished to ride but couldn't, for some reason. Because they were afraid? Were others still behind Fiorentini lines as Rodolfo once was?

  I rested my hand on his arm and could almost feel the triangular tattoo beneath his sleeve. I had a hundred other questions to ask about it, but it wouldn't further my cause this night. Gabi would choose to press and lose in this moment. I would give and hope to win the moment I had a more opportune chance.

  My eyes went to my sister's chair as the dance ended. She'd left—probably to see Marcello back to their rooms. But the questions in my mind lingered, and I figured that if anyone knew the scoop, it'd be my sister.

  "Thank you, Luca," I said. "I think I'll go and check on Gabriella and Marcello and see if they have need of anything before I retire myself." I looked over his shoulder; my parents were still rockin' the medieval dance floor like they intended to release their own version of the game Just Dance 1345. They'd be no help; I needed to find Gabi.

  Luca kissed my hand and searched my eyes. "I shall look for you on the morrow."

  "On the morrow," I repeated, and left.

  CHAPTER SIX

  ~GABRIELLA~

  Marcello was looking like he might pass out any second, so I persuaded him to leave the Great Hall. But he refused to be carried again. Stupid male pride... I hated that he was so stubborn as to not accept help, but my heart leaped at knowing that he felt well enough to rise at all. Hand in hand, we left the courtyard, which was still wet with rain, and entered the corridor that led to our quarters. Moans and the stench of rotting flesh met us; fifteen men still languished inside, each battling to recover from his wounds. There were half the men that there were last night—a relief, for certain. Many had come to collect their men this day, eager to care for them at home.

  I paused among those that remained, but Marcello urged me on. "They are cared for," he whispered in my ear, nodding to the servants milling about them, giving them water and soup, changing bandages...trying to settle them in for the night. Doctor Menaggio entered from the next corridor's hallway and gave us a nod.

  A guard leaning against the wall hurriedly straightened and nodded as we passed. "See that no one but Captain Forelli, Captain Pezzati, or any of the lady's family is permitted upstairs," Marcello said.

  "Yes, m'lord."

  Marcello led me up the curving steps of the turret and then down the hall toward my room. He closed the door behind me and immediately drew me into his arms, grimacing as if it hurt to hold me close.

  "Marcello," I said gently as his warm lips moved over my brow. "Maybe we should wait..."

  "Wait for what?" he teased. "This?" He moved on to covering my eyelids, my cheeks, my ear with tender, soft kisses. He smelled warm and inviting, easing away my fears. But I opened my eyes and nudged him aside as he kissed my neck, tickling me. "Shouldn't you return to bed, m'lord?"

  "Undoubtedly," he said, moving to kiss my lips, parting them with his own. He wrapped his arm around my back and pulled me close, grunting in pain but refusing to release me. I settled in, kissing him back with equal passion.

  A knock sounded then at our door. Marcello groaned in frustration. "If it's anyone but whom I told that man to allow passage..." he grumbled, as he turned toward the door.

  "Nay!" I said with a grin, moving to block his way. "Allow me." I'd deal with whoever had come to call and prevent them from suffering as a result of Marcello's frustration. I went to the door and opened it a crack.

  My sister. At least the guard had obeyed Marcello's orders.

  "Lia," I said, frowning. "Are you all right?"

  She paused, looking suddenly ill at ease. Tendrils of hair had slipped her knot and drifted across her neck, obviously from the dancing. "I'm interrupting." She shook her head. "I'm sorry. We'll talk tomorrow. I was just checking on you. Marcello is—" She blushed. "He's better. I can see it in your eyes."

  "Marcello is much better," I said, giving her a soft smile. I took a breath and slipped out the door, closing it behind me. "Are you okay?"

  "Fine! Fine." She shifted her weight back and forth, telling me she was anything but fine. "Sorry. I'm, uh...not used to this whole thing. You know, you being married. I just thought...I wanted to ask..." She shook her head. "This is seriously embarrassing. Luca just... Look, let's talk tomorrow."

  I hesitated, feeling torn between my sister's need and the desire to get back to my husband. "Are you sure?"

  "I'm sure," she said, giving me a false smile. "Go back. I'm so glad he's doing better. Do you need anything? Either of you?"

  "No. We're okay. Lia," I said, leaning forward, "are you sure you're sure? I could take five minutes."

  "I'm sure. Goodnight, Gabs." She turned and walked away from me then, down the corridor.

  Part of me wondered if I should chase after her, make her tell me what was up. Part of me wondered if I should find Doctor Menaggio and see if I could assist him with the remaining patients.

  But my husband decided my course of action for me. He opened the door a crack. Finding me alone, he took my hand and pulled me through, back inside. Then he latched and locked the door, lifted my hands to the wall above me, and began to kiss me like he never, ever intended to let me go again.

  ***

  The next morning, with all the servants in a frenzy to take care of our guests, I convinced Marcello to stay put in the Great Hall by the fire while I went to saddle horses for me and Lia. She intended to ride out with the men and see our guests properly off; I wanted to go with her. It'd give me a chance to find out what she had really wanted last night.

  I entered the stables and immediately saw Rodolfo Greco brushing his gray gelding, obviously as intent on saddling his own horse as I was.

  "Rodolfo," I said with a nod. I paused, nervously looking over my shoulder, wondering if I coul
d snag a squire to do the work. But they were all busy elsewhere, franticly helping so many men, all leaving at once.

  Rodolfo studied me as he continued brushing the gelding. He looked much better today—obviously he'd slept last night since he hadn't been spending the night in the stocks. Not that I should be paying attention to such things. "May I be of service, m'lady?"

  "Nay," I said, moving past him and his horse. "I can see to it myself. The servants are all so busy—"

  "You intend to saddle your own horse?" he said, looking over his shoulder, one eyebrow raised.

  "Certainly."

  "Allow me. I'll bring her out to you."

  "'Tis not only my own. I intend to see to Evangelia's as well."

  "I'll saddle them both."

  "Nonsense. I can at least do one." I went into my chestnut mare's stall and reached up to stroke her nose. "Good morning, Zita," I said. I put a hand to either of her cheeks and looked into her brown eyes, wanting to talk to her but feeling self-conscious in Rodolfo's presence.

  A stable hand came in and exchanged a few words with Rodolfo, then moved out. Then two knights. It was fine, I told myself. Get a grip, Gabs. How can he relax if you don't? It was a totally public place, and we were suitably apart. Besides, he'd soon have his gelding saddled and be gone, leaving me to my own tasks.

  I quickly brushed Zita's back and then reluctantly settled a small blanket and sidesaddle atop her, reaching down under her belly for the far strap. Quickly, I looped the strap through a buckle and locked it down, then checked two others, making sure they didn't need to be adjusted. When I looked up, Rodolfo was in the stall with me, placing the bit into Zita's mouth and wrapping the bridle over her head.

  "I'm all right, Rodolfo," I said. "I can see to it from here."

  "I insist," he said in dismissal, moving out of the stall toward Lia's mare. "This is Lady Evangelia's mount?"

  I nodded. "Yes, but truly—I am fine. Please. Go and report to Sir Luca before he places you in the stocks again."