As silly girls they had discussed the stories of the great and handsome aristocrazia emerging from his ornate palazzo and whisking one of the maidens off to a fairy-tale life of luxury and ease. Of course that lucky chosen one would soon marry off her friends to other young, handsome, rich noblemen. All of the surrounding villaggi and farms owing fidelity to the don had gladly participated in the Bridal Covenant; it was a cause for great festivity. All women of marriageable age had bathed and donned their finery, vying with outrageous flirtations to gain the attentions of the don of the palazzo.
But that was before they all came to believe in the curse. Before the Scarletti women, and even their attendants, began to die in bizarre accidents—or were so obviously murdered. Before the palazzo was named, in whispers, Palazzo della Morte. Palace of Death.
"He cannot do that," Nicoletta whispered, her hand going to her throat defensively. "He cannot."
"He goes to all the villaggi, as if to seek a bride."
Nicoletta rested her chin in her hand thoughtfully. "That he must do; he has no other choice. He cannot show preference beforehand. But it is another trap he seeks to catch me in." She took a deep breath, then let it out slowly. "We must outsmart him once again, Maria Pia. I know we can do it. If it is not so, if it is not me he is seeking, then it will not matter what we do."
"You cannot think to be absent." Maria Pia looked shocked. No one could defy an order given by the don. The honor of the village was at stake. After many generations of the tradition, they could not fail to comply in presenting their maidens to the don.
Nicoletta said the necessary prayers over her food far too absently for Maria Pia's liking. The older woman rapped Nicoletta on the knuckles when she would have quickly broken the bread. Maria Pia recited very long prayers over the meal, and very devoutly. Nicoletta barely managed to stop herself from giggling like Ketsia.
"This is no laughing matter, Nicoletta. I believe the current don had no intention of enforcing the Bridal Covenant. It has been two generations since one of our girls was demanded. Don Giovanni Scarletti has given no hint of such a thing, and his decision was so swift, no one has had time to adequately prepare for it."
"I agree," Nicoletta said calmly. She knew it without Maria Pia's observations. The raven had warned her of danger coming. She felt the danger. "He is looking for me." She broke off a small piece of cheese and slipped it into her mouth, chewing thoughtfully. "He is still not certain. That is why he used the demand of the brides. All eligible women are commanded to show themselves, but he does not have to choose. He can return year after year and never actually make a selection."
"Perhaps he is like a fisherman without a hook." Maria Pia began to relax. "Perhaps we can manage to outthink him after all."
"He has a hook," Nicoletta admitted at last. She glanced at Maria Pia, then averted her eyes, ashamed she had not confessed immediately. "There is the blood of the villaggio running in his veins. He is also different. I know that he is."
Maria Pia gasped and crossed herself, rushing to the shrine of the great Madonna to light several candles. After she had prayed avidly, she swung around. "How is he different'?" She dared Nicoletta to keep any more information from her.
"I cannot explain to you even how I am different. Only I know things I should not, I feel illness when I touch people, and a warmth rises in me to heal them. I know how to mix herbs into medicines, and I know which mixture will help when I touch the ailing one, but I cannot explain how. It is similar with him. He has not my same ways, but he is'different' all the same."
"It is whispered he is in league with…" Maria Pia could not bring herself even to whisper the name of the devil. She went for the holy water and sprinkled it at the doors and windows, then shook a healthy dose of it onto Nicoletta. "His home is dedicated to pagan, heathen deities. There is evil lurking in that palazzo."
Nicoletta shivered. She agreed with Maria Pia about the evil; she had sensed it, also. Who could not? But she did not necessarily agree that the don was in league with the devil. The memory of him standing with his arms wide, vulnerable to the stiletto, and, later, lowering his head with his hands over his eyes, tore at her heart. "Because he has the 'gift' does not mean he is worshipping false gods. It is rare for men to carry it but not unknown, Maria Pia. You yourself told me that when I was but a babe."
"You cannot defy the law, Nicoletta," Maria Pia repeated.
"I would not think of defying the laws of our village." Nicoletta made the mistake of smiling, her dark eyes suddenly alight with mischief.
Maria Pia hissed at her, slapping her hand. "Take care, piccola. You are more than my old heart can stand. The don is owed our loyalty and fidelity. We live a good life on his land, our bellies are full, and we are protected from all invaders. Even the good and Holy Church, may the saints be praised, leaves us alone because of him, leaving off their witch hunts and onerous requests for tithing so heavily."
"The law states that all eligible women must come forward. Perhaps I can make myself look younger. Too young for marriage. Perhaps your memory and that of Mirella has faded a bit as to the exact year of my birth. I am certain I am a year too young to be included. If it isn't me he is looking for, there is no harm in the charade. And if it is, it was a harmless mistake." She shrugged. "Many of the girls would willingly take the chance of becoming the bride of so powerful a man. Mayhap he will find one of them to his liking."
Maria Pia regarded her steadily with one eyebrow raised high. She looked pointedly at the generous breasts and rounded hips Nicoletta had been endowed with at an early age. "I do not think he will swallow such a tale, Nicoletta."
Nicoletta made a face. "I will bind myself a bit with cloth. And I will stay out of the way. We can spread the word that people think me half-witted and that I am a year too young for marriage in any case, should anyone be asked."
"Nicoletta!" Maria Pia was shocked at her and showed it. "The villagers will remain silent on your behalf, but no one must tell an untruth. The good Madonna cannot protect us from such a folly. What a thought!"
Nicoletta remained unrepentant. "And you must talk to Cristano, Maria Pia. He is becoming a nuisance. Many of the girls would love to catch his eye, but he looks only at me."
Maria Pia clucked her tongue. "Cristano will grow to be a fine man. You are lucky he is looking your way. It is not good to know you are so beautiful, Nicoletta. Beauty will not last forever and you could be caught in your might-have-beens like that old fool Mirella."
"But Cristano would be one of those cocksure, handsome husbands who is always making enormous demands on his wife while ever looking to greener pastures, Maria Pia. I would not be a wife likely to smile with forgiveness and pleasure when he returned to my bed." The very thought of sharing a bed with him was repugnant to her, so much so that she shivered and rubbed her arms. "I know Cristano will mean well, yet he will strike his wife if she looks at another man and blame her for the attention of another man's smile. He thinks much of himself; he will expect his wife to care for the children and home all alone while he spends his time idly drinking and gaming with the men. This is not a marriage to me." Nicoletta broke off another piece of cheese and grinned at Maria Pia. "I shall remain with you."
Maria Pia made a show of rolling her eyes and crying to the heavens for patience, but, all the same, she looked pleased. "You are probably right about Cristano." With a reluctant sigh she gave up the dream of settling Nicoletta down through marriage to the handsome youth. "Being a peacock and having a quick temper, he should marry a woman who will not stand out quite so much to other men."
Nicoletta raised her eyebrows but refrained from commenting. She had a difficult time understanding how other women accepted the fate of becoming wife and helpmeet so eagerly when she felt the loss of freedom would be intolerable. Married, she would never be able to live the way she was expected to live. She had always roamed free. Because of her differences, she did not have to adhere to the many unspoken rules that bound other women
. It hurt to see childhood friends like Lissandra make disastrous matches, yet they really had no choice. Nor did many of them appear to realize that their marriages could go wrong. They seemed to harbor the illusion that matrimonial bliss would instantly ensue upon their arranged unions, even to men who were uncaring or cruel. Lissandra would be a brood mate and a workhorse for her husband, and she would die at an early age without ever knowing true love.
Nicoletta pressed two fingers to her forehead, to the sudden painful throbbing brought on by her thoughts. She glanced out the window at the beckoning hills. At times like this, she wanted to disappear into nature's embrace and be free of such continual battering at her emotions.
Maria Pia shook her head sharply. "Oh, no, you cannot go out there. If you do, I will not see you again for days. You are no longer a bambino to run and hide when you do not want to face something." She waved a hand at the window and the mountains beyond. "Once you find your way to the hills, even I cannot call you back."
"You still call me a bambina," Nicoletta pointed out with a teasing smile, forcing a brightness she did not feel.
"I should not put up with your foolishness," the older women reprimanded, but in truth, she could not bear to see Nicoletta unhappy. No one in the villaggio could, not for long. When Nicoletta smiled, she brought them the sunshine. Maria Pia's gaze traveled lovingly over the young woman. Not even her worn and faded clothes could dim her natural beauty. "I do not see how we can so disguise your womanly appearance, Nicoletta." Her gaze fell on the small bare feet. "Where are your shoes?" she asked as she so often had to.
Nicoletta shrugged, unconcerned. "In truth, I do not know. Nor will I be needing them. I think bare feet will add to the illusion of a child." She laughed softly. "Ketsia has quite a task keeping track of the things. Yet it keeps her occupied and out of trouble—and perhaps relieves your worries at the same time."
"Donna Maria Pia!" Cristano's booming voice nearly shook the hut. "I must speak with you."
Maria Pia wrapped her shawl around her shoulders as she shuffled to the door.
Nicoletta made a face. "Do not let that vain peacock into our home," she hissed.
"Behave yourself," Maria Pia demanded, and she opened the door.
Cristano rushed in, almost smashing Maria Pia flat. He knocked the breath out of her and had to catch her to prevent her from falling. Maria Pia slapped at his hands and pursed her lips, clucking with disapproval like an old hen. "What are you about, Cristano?" she demanded.
Nicoletta burst out laughing as Cristano, mortified, turned bright red. Maria Pia silenced Nicoletta with one eloquent look. Cristano shot Nicoletta a withering glare and recovered his dignity sufficiently to face the older woman. "I have come to ask for Nicoletta's hand in marriage. She cannot be counted among the eligible women for the Bridal Covenant."
Maria Pia smiled sweetly and patted Cristano's arm. "What a thoughtful boy, to consider such a thing, but you seem to have forgotten that she is a year too young for marriage yet. She will not be included in the don's Bridal Covenant." She was leading him to the door. "It was kind of you to offer to sacrifice yourself," she added wryly, "but there is no need. Nicoletta will remain unmarried at least another year." As she addressed and patted him, she thrust him out the door and closed it firmly. Then, having uttered an untruth, as she'd sworn she couldn't, she hastened to the shrine to the Madonna to seek forgiveness and charity.
Chapter Five
The air of the village fairly hummed with energy the next evening. Nicoletta shook her head as she watched the festivities from behind a large tree. She pressed herself tight against the trunk, hoping she looked like one of the nameless, faceless children the aristocrazia never seemed to notice. She had bound her generous breasts and wore a loose, shapeless dress, a bit worse for wear but clean. Her feet were inevitably bare, but her skirts hid her shapely legs. Her hair was bound and covered tightly with a scarf. Still, she was taking no chances, determined to stay as far as she could from the don.
During the long hours of the day the adults had continued cleaning and polishing the villaggio in hopes of making it more acceptable to the don. All houses and stoops were now neat and tidy, and no wash hung on the bushes or trees. The small boys were deployed as runners, stationed in the neighboring villaggi to report on the don's progress. He was moving slowly from the small towns and farms, inspecting the young women and evidently finding none to his liking. He was steadily moving toward them.
Nicoletta was agog at the girls, her friends, all of marriageable age, simpering in their finest clothes, scrubbed and powdered, forgetting every tragic death, every sinister rumor. They stood together in groups, talking in whispers, erupting every now and then into fits of nervous giggles. They thought only of the riches, the prestige, and what a coup such a marriage would be. Nicoletta's fingers twisted tightly into the material of her skirt, and her heart thudded hard in her chest. He was coming. He had found no bride yet, and deep in her heart she knew that he wouldn't. He was coming for her.
She was trembling, a fine shiver she couldn't quite control. Her hands were icy cold, and her stomach was doing funny little somersaults. The fog had once again rolled in, bands of it winding in eerie wisps around the trees and houses. There was a terrible drumming in her head, like the sound of thunder heralding a storm. He was coming for her. It sang in her head, a hideous refrain. Self-preservation warred with her sense of duty. The don could not be defeated. Strong men had tried, and they had died for their efforts. He was coming for her.
Nicoletta felt goose bumps creep over her skin. Close. He was close now. Her legs felt rubbery, her knees weak. It took all her willpower to stand her ground, albeit as a shrinking violet propped up by a tree.
He came into sight riding a huge black horse with a flowing mane and tail. The horse was restless, prancing sideways, tossing its head, but the powerful figure astride the animal looked calm and in complete control. Many outriders accompanied him, strong men every one, with an obvious pride in and complete loyalty to their master. Nicoletta could see the emotions on their faces, and it frightened her all the more. These would be the men who would burn her at the stake if he commanded it. They would do anything he commanded.
Don Giovanni Scarletti, with his great height and broad shoulders and thick chest tapering into narrow hips, had the hard stamp of authority on his handsome, angular face. He was no youth but a full-fledged man. His mouth had a merciless touch to it; his eyes were frankly sensual, glittering black obsidian, heavy-lidded with thick black lashes. He looked intimidating, a man born to command.
He robbed Nicoletta of her breath. He was handsome and frightening and so powerful looking, he seemed completely invincible. She didn't look directly at him, terrified of drawing his gaze. One of his men took the reins of his horse, and Don Scarletti dismounted in one fluid motion. He appeared patient and gracious as the elders of the villaggio greeted him with several long-winded speeches and presented him with gifts. The village musicians did their best to entertain, loud and enthusiastic rather than on key. The sound grated on Nicoletta's already raw nerves.
She was mesmerized by the don, by his graceful movements, the play of his muscles beneath the fine material of his shirt, the way power clung to him. He looked strong and capable, utterly confident, invincible. A dark sorcerer casting his spell. Nicoletta wanted to look away, terrified of drawing his attention but unable to tear herself out of the web he seemed to weave around her.
"He is very handsome," Ketsia confided, tugging at Nicoletta's skirt.
"You think every man is handsome," Nicoletta answered, keeping her voice low, although they were some distance from the main festivities.
Ketsia giggled. "But he is old, Nicoletta. I am glad you are not with the other girls, or he would surely choose you."
Nicoletta stiffened, but she did not dare let the don out of her sight even for an instant. She didn't altogether trust the situation. Her heart was pounding louder than ever.
"Why would you
say that, Ketsia?" Her mouth was so dry, she could barely speak.
"I just know he would. Anyone would pick you, Nicoletta," Ketsia said confidently. "You are so beautiful and good." She studied the don. "I think he is not having a good time. He looks bored. Do you think he should look bored when he is choosing his bride?" She wrinkled her nose. "He is not even looking at the girls. He walked right past Rosia, and she is wearing her best dress."
The strange shivering was becoming worse. Nicoletta's teeth were chattering so hard, she clenched them tightly, afraid the sound would attract the don's attention. Ketsia was right; Don Scarletti was giving the young women only the most cursory of inspections. He was barely avoiding being rude, but she could see it didn't matter to him what anyone thought. His face was darkening like a thundercloud. She saw him turn his head to examine the crowd, his glittering gaze sharp like that of a hawk. He was hunting prey, and Nicoletta instinctively knew that she was the prey he was seeking. Her hand went protectively to her throat, and she tried to make herself even smaller. He scanned the faces in the crowd with thoughtful eyes and then suddenly went very still.
Nicoletta followed the direction of his eyes and gasped when she saw that his gaze had settled on Maria Pia. He leaned and spoke softly to the man nearest him. At once the man pushed his way through the crowd and went straight to the older woman. Head down, she obediently followed him back to the don.
Nicoletta squeezed her eyes shut, wanting to shut out the inevitable. She could not allow Maria Pia to take the brunt of the powerful don's anger. Ketsia seemed to sense something was wrong, for she moved closer and clutched at Nicoletta's skirt. "Why is he asking Maria Pia questions?" Ketsia asked plaintively. "He looks scary."
"Hush, bambina," Nicoletta pleaded, wanting to hear. Again Ketsia was right; the don looked very intimidating.
His voice was softer than ever, but there was no mistaking that he had every intention of getting his way. "Where is the young woman who accompanied you to the palazzo? Make no mistake, old woman, I deal harshly with anyone who attempts to defy my orders. The Bridal Covenant was invoked, and all women were to be brought forward."
Feehan, Christine - The Scarletti Curse Page 8