“My…” she began, then corrected herself. “Giovanni, your sources are mistaken. Perhaps they saw someone in a similar dress. In the darkness of night, with identities concealed by masks, it would be a simple error to make.”
“A large man wearing a horned mask of the Beast of Venice. Sound familiar now?”
Immediately Tavros’s story about Giovanni’s stern warning sprang to mind. Despite her feelings, Antonia was not ready to declare herself unwilling to marry. She needed time to prepare, to choose her words carefully.
“I was merely talking to a friend,” she said. “Nothing more. I would not have been in that position had you not abandoned me in the piazza.”
The look on Giovanni’s face told her she had him dead to rights. His anger only increased, though.
“You will regret your rash decision. I have little tolerance for such treasonous behavior. You have embarrassed and humiliated me for the last time.”
He stood and strode to the door, with Piera quickly moving aside as he passed. Giovanni was met at the door by Antonia’s parents, who were obviously roused from their sleep by the disturbance. Signor Crivelli gawked at the man’s thoroughly soaked hair and clothing.
“Giovanni! What is this a–”
“Your daughter–my betrothed–has been cavorting around Venice with another man.”
Her father looked to her, obviously hoping for an expression of denial, but she was unable to oblige him. Turning back to Giovanni, he said, “A thousand apologies for the capricious actions of an immature girl. I promise I–”
“This simply will not stand,” Giovanni interrupted. “My family and I refuse to be humiliated in such a brazen manner.”
He disappeared through the door, Signor Crivelli following in close pursuit and spouting apologies as rapidly as he could.
Antonia’s mother glared at Piera, who quickly took her leave as well.
Instead of the anger or disappointment she expected, Antonia saw only a look of resigned sadness on her mother’s face.
“My darling girl, what have you done?”
That was all it took for Antonia to burst into tears. Her mother was at her side immediately, holding her tightly against her and absorbing the sobs.
“I don’t love Giovanni, Mama,” she said.
“I know, cara. But love is seldom the victor in these battles.”
Their tender moment ended abruptly with the return of a furious Signor Crivelli.
“Is this true? Were you seen with another man last night?” he demanded, his face red.
“Papà, I tried to spend time with Giovanni, but he continues to ignore me. He practically pushed me away. So I met some friends instead.”
“Gasparo said you came home well after dark.”
Antonia sighed. “My friends and I were having fun at the carnival and I lost track of time.”
“Who was this man you were seen with?”
“A friend who insisted on escorting me home for my safety. His name is Tavros.”
A look of recognition crossed his face when he heard the name. “A Greek? Someone came to the door late yesterday, an older Greek man, asking to speak to you. What is going on here?”
Antonia assumed Kadri had sought her out after their meeting, and that her father mistook the Turkish man for Greek.
“Nothing, Papà,” she sobbed. “I have no idea who it was.”
Her father remained silent for what seemed like an eternity as Antonia tried to staunch her tears. Finally, he said in a firm voice, “I will go visit Giovanni and his father and explain. Maybe hearing it from me will smooth things over.”
“I don’t want things smoothed over.”
“What are you talking about?” he demanded.
“I can’t marry Giovanni, Papà. I don’t love him. Nor does he love me.”
The glare she received in return for her comments withered her to the core.
“Marriage is not about love!” Signor Crivelli bellowed. “Marriage is about creating a strong, wealthy family that will stand the test of time!” His words grew angrier by the syllable. “Love? Love is for bards and poets! You are an immature girl who thinks life will cater to her every whim, but it doesn’t work in such a manner!”
“Don’t make me marry him, Papà! I can’t!”
“You can, and you will! I refuse to have my family’s entire future jeopardized by the silly whims of a childish young woman.”
“No! Please! I have no–”
“I won’t hear another word from you about this, do you understand?”
“But–”
“Basta!” he screamed.
For the next few seconds, the wind and rain pounded the shutters as Signor Crivelli tried to regain his composure. When he spoke again, it was in a calm, firm tone.
“Enough is enough, Antonia. It’s time for you to grow up. You will spend the remaining four weeks until your wedding here at home. You are not to venture out for any reason without your mother or me by your side. Is that understood?”
Antonia nodded, not in agreement but to end the conversation. When her father had gone, she tried begging her mother.
“Mama, I can’t marry Giovanni. I’m in love with Tavros, and he loves me. You must do something.”
Signora Crivelli stroked her daughter’s hair and spoke softly.
“Did you lie with him last night?”
Antonia was stunned by her mother’s question and found it impossible to respond.
Signora Crivelli sighed deeply. “I was afraid of that. Then I must agree with your father. You are to stay at home until your wedding. No more dreams of love with a laborer.”
“No!” Antonia became desperate. “You of all people should understand.”
“I understand only that you are playing a dangerous game, my child. Do you want your family to end up broke and humiliated? We could even be forced to leave Venice! And your blacksmith might wind up dead or in prison. Is that what you want?”
She shook her head, distraught that nobody seemed to understand this as clearly as she did.
An hour after her mother left, Antonia’s pillow was soaked with tears. Her parents were obviously committed to seeing this marriage through, regardless of her feelings about it. Ironically, her remaining sliver of hope was Giovanni himself; his words made her think that maybe he, like she, was no longer interested in marrying someone he did not love.
Consumed by her love for Tavros, she could only pray that the fiancé she had no feelings for would decide to call off the wedding.
The likelihood of that, though, was slim. After all, business was business.
Her blood ran cold and her heart felt vacant at the idea that there was no realistic scenario in which she and Tavros could be together.
Chapter 27
Antonia
One month later
“There, there, cara.” Piera stroked Antonia’s hair as she applied a cool cloth to her throat.
It had been a month since she’d last seen or heard from Tavros, and his absence had left her ill. Or was it the thought of her upcoming marriage to Giovanni, only a week away?
Three times she had dispatched Piera to the shipyard, under the flimsy guise of asking Signor Donato some question about wedding preparations. The governess had never caught a glimpse of the blacksmith, much less be able to pass along a message to him. Antonia had even sent her friend Flora, despite her reluctance to even enter such a place, where young women were rarely seen.
One month, and not a word from the man she loved. Something was wrong, she could sense it.
Another wave of nausea hit her, and she bolted from her bed to the wash basin.
“Piera, I’m dying,” she said mournfully. “I can’t live without Tavros, and I certainly can’t live with Giovanni.”
“You will survive this trauma of the heart, my dear,” the older woman said. “We all do.”
Turning away from the basin momentarily, Antonia moaned, “I cannot imagine myself in the same house as Giovanni,
always miserable. Every day would bring the same—”
Once again, she lowered her head to the basin as her stomach tried to find any remaining contents to expel.
Piera dipped the washcloth in a bowl of cool water and wrung it out. Just before applying it to Antonia’s forehead, she stopped short, staring blankly.
Antonia noticed the odd expression. “What? What is it?”
“Cara, have you not had your visitation this month?”
The meaning behind the question came to Antonia before she could reply, and she instantly felt worse.
It couldn’t be possible. Well, it could, but it shouldn’t. Yet every fiber of her being told her it was true.
She was carrying Tavros’s child.
Her face felt numb and she could barely breathe. Piera had to help her to the bed.
“How can this be?” she asked, dazed.
“Child, you know how,” Piera said calmly. Antonia had never confided in her governess about the night she lay with the blacksmith, but Piera seemed to somehow know, regardless. Keeping secrets from her had always been next to impossible.
Too sick to muster tears, Antonia sighed heavily. “What will I do? What can I do?” Her world was collapsing around her and she was powerless to stop it.
“At this point, you can’t do anything,” Piera told her. “Once you marry Giovanni, you must lay with him as soon as possible so he will think the child is his.”
“I don’t want to lay with Giovanni! Nor does he want to lay with me.”
When her thoughts turned to the baby’s real father, Antonia had a sudden realization.
“Piera, you must go to Tavros and tell him.”
The governess blanched at the suggestion. “Antonia, cara, he never seems to be at his station during the days. Perhaps he works at night now.”
“I don’t care! Ask another blacksmith this time! You simply must find him. He has to know, and I have no one else I trust to send on such a task.”
An hour later, Antonia had succeeded in wearing the older woman down.
“You are as stubborn as you are precious. If I’m caught, I will have no choice but to tell your parents the truth,” she warned.
“Then keep your guard and do not get caught,” Antonia said breathlessly. “Go in the evening this time, during the evening meal, when my parents are otherwise occupied.”
The wait was excruciating for Antonia. She had been able to eat only a few bites of dinner before quickly excusing herself to her chambers. Her parents suspected nothing because she’d been moping constantly in recent weeks, despondent about being forced to marry Giovanni.
As she sat on her bed waiting for Piera’s return, she fidgeted uncontrollably. Finally, she heard the door opening and jumped to her feet as her governess entered.
“Well? Did you see him? What did he say? Tell me! Tell me!”
It took a second before the sad visage in front of her registered.
Something was wrong.
Badly wrong.
“Piera, what is it? What happened?”
Piera forced Antonia to sit on the bed, then sat next to her and placed a hand gently on her knee.
“I’m afraid I have bad news, cara.”
Antonia’s stomach twitched. “What? Tell me!”
Piera took a breath, then said, “He’s gone. Tavros the blacksmith is gone.”
“Gone? No, it can’t be! Gone where?”
In measured tones, the governess recounted her clandestine visit to the shipyard. “I made it to the forges and spoke to one of the other blacksmiths.” Sighing, she continued, “He was told that Tavros left the day after Summer Carnival, on a ship bound for Athens, saying it was time to return home.”
Piera saw the crestfallen look come over Antonia. “Child, I am so very sorry. I know how much this hurts.”
Antonia’s eyes focused. “It’s not true,” she said. “I know it. He would never leave without saying goodbye.”
“They’ve already hired a young man to take his place in the forge,” Piera said slowly, as if she believed that to be the final word on the matter.
Antonia nodded, but in her mind, she held firm to the idea that Tavros would never have left her—especially not after the night they shared. There had to be more to the story.
“I want to be alone for a while, please.”
Piera told her to call if she needed anything, then took her leave.
Once she was by herself, the reality of the situation set in and she began to wonder if the father of her unborn child had indeed used her for physical pleasure, then run off to avoid emotional entanglements. She had been warned for years about men who did just that, but everything in her heart told her it wasn’t possible. Not her Tavros.
Maybe the engagement to Giovanni was just too big an obstacle to overcome. Perhaps Tavros left to save them both the pain of not being able to un-do her parents’ plans.
The more she thought about it, the more Antonia knew that there was no way out of this wedding.
There never was a way out.
Especially with Tavros gone, she had no choice now but to follow through with her parents’ wishes and marry Giovanni. Then she would convince him the pregnancy was his doing.
When she moved past the idea of the wedding itself, she realized marrying Giovanni meant she had practically no chance of ever seeing Tavros again. Though his being on the other side of the Mediterranean Sea in another country guaranteed that.
The certainty with which she believed he would never leave her evaporated as she imagined him settling into a new life in Greece.
She briefly considered boarding a ship for Athens, but quickly saw the futility of such a plan. She had no money of her own, and if she left her family home in such a manner, they’d never allow her to return. If she failed to find Tavros—or worse yet, found him and was rebuffed—she would be on her own out in the world. With a child, no less. Trying to find Tavros could ruin her entire life.
No, she had no choice but to marry Giovanni.
The event she’d looked forward to for so long was now going to make her miserable forever.
Chapter 28
Tavros
The damp darkness penetrated to Tavros’s core. Dressed only in tattered pants, he was constantly cold in this stone cell. The dank, musty smell kept his stomach turning, as did the one meal each day the guards thrust through the bars towards him: moldy bread mostly, and sometimes a piece of foul-smelling meat. The greatest misery of all, though, was not being able to see or hold his beloved, or to at least get word to her.
He had been here since the day after he and Antonia pledged their undying love to one another in a borrowed bed some two weeks earlier. There was no way to know exactly how long, with the only light coming from a torch somewhere down the hall that was only occasionally lit.
He had begun to fear he would never lay eyes on his beloved again. What had he been thinking, allowing himself the notion that they could be a couple, and putting them both in danger in the process? His was not a normal life with normal occurrences and consequences. His place was to suffer, to endure the cruelest twists of fate until the day he died.
Four men had arrived late in the morning the day after Summer Carnival, while he was still asleep with dreams of a forever-love floating through his fool head. They entered his quarters and immediately pounced upon him, covering his nose and mouth with a cloth that quickly rendered him unconscious. Lucky for them, or the minotaur would have altered their plans.
The beast appeared later, when he first awoke, alone and angry, in this cell. Still confused after being tamed by Antonia the night before, the minotaur hadn’t had the strength to break the sturdy shackles and he soon retreated inward. Maybe for the better; had the guards seen that fearsome creature, they likely wouldn’t have let him live. Since then, the beast hadn’t returned, and Tavros had only grown weaker.
“You’ve got a visitor coming, Greek!”
It was one of the guards, shouting at him. Tavr
os rose to his feet, the metal shackles and chains weighing down his every move. Maybe he would be set free now, considering he’d committed no crime at all. He was convinced Giovanni Donato had been responsible for his imprisonment, though he wasn’t brave enough to show his face again.
The steps grew louder, accompanied by the light of a flame. The torch blinded him when it appeared on the other side of the bars, his vision going from black to searing white in the space of a second.
“So this is the blacksmith?”
Tavros didn’t recognize the gruff voice.
“It is him, sir.” A second voice he’d also never heard.
“Open your eyes, wharf rat!”
Tavros forced his eyelids open. When they’d adjusted to the light, he recognized a man he’d seen in the shipyard on occasion: Signor Crivelli, the father of the woman he loved.
“Why have I been imprisoned?” Tavros demanded in a croaky voice. “Of what crime am I accused?”
“What crime?” Crivelli responded. “The attempted theft of my only daughter! Giovanni Donato was right to have you held in chains. In my opinion, your punishment is far too lenient.”
Tavros had been right about Donato ordering his jailing. “Antonia deserves a better fate than to languish in a house void of love with that spineless coward.” The venom-soaked words spewed from Tavros’s lips, fueled by days of torment and suffering.
“Love!” Slapping the shoulder of the man accompanying him, Signor Crivelli bellowed, “Ha ha! The blacksmith considers himself an expert on affairs of the heart!”
Turning serious once again, he pointed a finger at Tavros through the bars of his cell. “If you ever wish to see the light of the sun again, you’d be well advised to never let my daughter’s name touch those lips. We plan to ship you back to your homeland after the wedding, but one more transgression on your part and you will die here instead, alone in the dark.”
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