Giulia’s hand tightened on the knob of the door. “Insolence.”
“No, I didn’t mean—”
“You may please him for a few weeks, but he’ll grow tired of bedding a child with no more meat on her bones than a scrawny foul.” Giulia’s blue eyes blazed. “And then he’ll come back to Florence and to me. You’ll never be able to hold him.”
“The question will never arise,” Sanchia said quietly. “You forget, I belong to him. He holds me.”
For some reason her answer only seemed to make Giulia more angry. She muttered an obscenity and slammed the door.
Sanchia flinched, then thrust her feet into slippers and finished fastening her gown. She cast a wistful glance at the apple quarters and cup of wine on the silver tray on the table. A real apple. She’d had a taste of one a few years before, but this one certainly looked riper and more juicy. Perhaps she could have just one bite.…
She sighed and started for the door. Lion was too much the unknown quantity for her to risk angering him. She could put no store in Giulia’s assurance that he would not be irritated if she kept him waiting longer since the woman obviously wished her ill.
Sanchia hesitated at the top of the stairs when she heard voices. Caprino was standing in the hall below talking to Lion. Her hand tightened on the marble bannister. However, her astonishment and wariness were quickly submerged in fierce satisfaction. She had no reason to be afraid of Caprino. He could not touch her; he could not hurt Elizabet. Serenely she now started down the stairs.
Caprino glanced up as she reached the third step from the bottom. “Ah, Sanchia, how charming you look.” His gaze traveled appraisingly over her. “I had no idea you’d clean up so well or I might have hesitated about making you a present to the magnifico.” He held up a leather purse and smiled smugly. “I fear I’ll just have to be satisfied with young Elizabet. I believe I’ll pay a visit to Giovanni after I bid you good journey.”
Sanchia smiled back at him. “I’m sure Giovanni will be happy to see you. I’ve always thought you had many qualities in common. However, Elizabet is no longer with Giovanni.”
Caprino stiffened, his gaze narrowing on her face. “And where is she?”
“With Messer Benedetto and his good wife. As I was forced to leave Elizabet, I thought it wise to have her future settled.” Her smile deepened with mockery. “I’m sure you can sympathize with such a decision. I remember you were quite eager to have her settled yourself. She’s to marry Alessandro within the month.”
“Marriage! But she can’t—” Caprino whirled to Lion. “I’ve been cheated. The money you paid for Sanchia is not enough.”
“It was enough two minutes ago.” Lion’s tone was icy. “The arrangement stands, Caprino.”
“But that was when I thought—” Caprino broke off as he met Lion’s gaze. He was silent, struggling to subdue his anger. Finally he turned back to Sanchia. “You think you’ve bested me.”
“I didn’t try to best you. I intended only to protect Elizabet.”
“From me,” he snarled.
“From everything and everyone.” She gazed at him directly. “But yes, from you most of all.”
“You need not worry. Your Elizabet is no longer important to me.” Caprino’s voice was so soft the underlying malevolence was only barely discernible. “But you and your future are going to be of great interest to me, Sanchia. I don’t like to be cheated of something I want.”
A chilly finger of fear touched her spine. He couldn’t hurt her or Elizabet, she reassured herself, but still she felt his menace. “You won’t know my future. I’m leaving Florence.”
“I can wait. I’m good at waiting.”
“Leave, Caprino.” Lion gestured toward the door. “Our business is finished.”
“Good day, Magnifico.” His voice sounded of nothing but politeness now. “I wish you joy in your purchase. May Sanchia bring you what you seek.” He opened the door and slanted them a faint smile over his shoulder. “But you’d best hasten in your use of her. Young girls such as she are fragile blossoms that sometimes wither and perish overnight.” He gave them no chance to answer as he closed the door behind him.
The tension eased from Sanchia’s rigid muscles and she forced herself to release her grip on the bannister. “I’m sorry I overslept, my lord. I’m ready to leave.”
Lion’s glance shifted from the door to her face. “You do realize he just threatened your life?”
She nodded jerkily as she descended the last steps. “He’s an evil man.”
“Yet you’re paying no more attention to his threat than if he’d just told you he was going to make you a present.”
“What can I do about it? He’ll try to hurt me and perhaps he’ll succeed.” She gazed at Lion gravely. “But he’d hurt me much more if I let him poison all my hours and days with worry and fear.”
“An interesting philosophy.” He gazed at her with an odd intentness. “You advocate living for the present and not the future?”
“All I have is the present. A slave has only the future her master determines.”
The intensity of his gaze was making her uneasy and causing a tight stricture in her chest. He was so big. He towered above her and his simple apparel of black leather hose and boots and russet suede jerkin served only to emphasize the strength of his massive body.
“Then I agree we must make the most of every single minute,” Lion said softly as he drew on his heavy leather gauntlets. “Tell me, did you miss me in your bed last night?”
The tightness in her chest increased until she had trouble drawing breath. “How could I miss you when I’ve never slept with you? I fell asleep right away and didn’t stir until Giulia woke me.”
“Remind me to teach you the virtue of flattery. A man has need of pretty lies on occasion.” Humor glinted in his dark eyes. “It’s an art required of all my slaves.”
“But Messer Lorenzo said I’m your only slave.”
He airily waved a gloved hand. “Not important. One is enough to set a standard.”
He was joking with her, Sanchia realized with amazement. She had seen him in many moods since yesterday afternoon, but they had all been heavy—anger, suspicion, appraisal, lust. Now he appeared light-hearted, charged with energy and good humor. “You’re happy today.”
“I admit I’m very glad we’re on our way. I detest waiting for anything.” He touched her cheek. “Remember that, Sanchia.”
The hard leather of the gauntlet was rough against the soft flesh of her cheek. She imagined the warmth of his finger beneath the leather and it caused a tingle of heat to spread from her cheek to her throat. She took an involuntary step back. “I’ll remember.” She moistened her lips with her tongue. “What kept you here in Florence? What were you waiting for?”
“Why, you, Sanchia.” He turned to the door. “We were waiting for you.”
She gazed at him in bewilderment. “Me? But—” She stopped as the significance of Caprino’s presence earlier sank home to her. “Caprino said he sold me to you. The piazza …”
“A test of your skill, which proved very impressive.” Lion opened the door. “Come along. Lorenzo is waiting outside with the horses. I purchased a few items of clothing for you from one of the women here; they’re tied on the back of your horse.” He frowned. “I was able to obtain a very gentle mare for you. I assume you’ve never ridden.”
“No.” She came toward him, her gaze searching his face. “A thief. That’s why you want me.” At least she knew now why he’d bought her and felt she was no longer blundering in the dark with him.
“When I bought you from Giovanni, I certainly believed I was getting only a thief.” He studied her face. “You seem pleased. I got the impression that taking purses was not to your liking.”
“It’s not; stealing frightens me. But now that I know what value I have for you I feel better.”
“So that you can seek a way to bend me to your will as you did Giovanni?”
Her eyes widen
ed and she gazed up at him helplessly.
“For God’s sake, don’t look at me like that. I’m not going to beat you.” He shrugged wearily, “Sweet Jesus, why shouldn’t you try to manage me? I’ll do my best to use you in the way I see fit.”
“But I promised I would obey you in all things.”
No weapons, Lorenzo had said, and she looked poignantly defenseless at this moment, Lion thought. What must it be like to be as helpless as Sanchia, and have to struggle to maintain even a modicum of dignity and independence in an uncertain world? The thought filled him with astonishment. Where did his anger at her situation come from? Why this inexplicable need to comfort? “One theft,” he said curtly. “That’s all you’ll have to do. Once we’re finished at Solinari you’ll never have to steal again. I’ll find some other—”
“Lion, caro mio.” Giulia was walking down the stairs, a dazzling smile on her face. “Were you not coming to bid me good-bye?”
“I thought we’d said our good-byes last night,” Lion replied. “I seem to remember you wished me a swift journey to …” He paused and gave her a half mocking bow. “A place with an extremely warm but unpleasant climate.”
Giulia shrugged. “I was angry. You know my bad temper is fleeting. Forgive me for attacking you as an apothecary would a barber. Caro, I am so sorry for my venomous words. Come, we must part friends.” She cast Sanchia a careless glance. “We had no problem before she came. Do not bring her back and all will be well.”
“I don’t care for ultimatums, Giulia.” Lion’s hand encircled Sanchia’s wrist and he drew her toward the door. “Nor do I care for viragos. I don’t believe I’ll be returning to your casa.”
“But Lion, I didn’t mean—” Giulia stopped. The door had closed behind them.
Giulia’s hands slowly clenched into fists. She should never have pushed him, she thought. She had known it was a mistake to show her anger the night before, but she hadn’t been able to stem the vitrolic words. Jealousy. Dio, she was jealous of that bony child. It was just as well that this madness with Lion was at an end. Caprino was right; a woman in her profession had to maintain control. Money was important, not pleasure … not the pleasure she had received from Lion, certainly.
She turned away from the door, lifting her skirts as she started up the stairs. Still, she did owe Lion a small debt for giving her so many hours of servicing in the bedchamber. She would repay him by waiting until late this evening to summon Caprino and tell him what she had overheard as she came down to the front hall. Caprino might be delayed as much as a full day before starting whatever it might be he chose to do with the information she would sell him. He’d promised her seven ducats for finding out what Lion wanted Sanchia to steal for him. In this she’d failed, but the name of the place where the theft was to occur should be worth at least five, Giulia thought shrewdly.
Solinari. The name sounded vaguely familiar, she mused. Now in what connection had she heard it?
“Where is Solinari?” Sanchia asked as Lion lifted her onto the saddle of the chestnut mare. She clutched desperately at the reins trying not to think how far she was from the ground.
“It’s a palazzo just outside of Pisa.”
“What am I supposed to steal there?”
“A kev.”
“A key to unlock what?”
“A door.” Lion mounted his own black stallion.
“Oh.” Sanchia was silent a moment. “What’s behind the door?”
She heard a low chuckle from Lorenzo, who was already mounted behind her.
“You’re very inquisitive.” There was an edge to Lion’s tone.
“I’ll have to know sometime, won’t I?” She asked anxiously, “Do questions displease you?”
“Cristo, what do I care? Question away as you please.”
Lorenzo chuckled again. “I’m sure she will.”
Lion scowled at him over his shoulder. “I never have to worry about you saying what you like, Lorenzo.”
“That must be a great comfort to you.”
“You’ll have to tell me how to please you,” Sanchia said quickly. “This is all new to me. I’ve had no master but Giovanni and he—”
“I don’t want to hear any more about that man,” Lion said tersely as he turned his stallion, Tabron, toward the south. “I find any comparison between him and me less than flattering.”
“And I’m sure Lion will let you know what pleases him,” Lorenzo murmured, “when he gains the courage.”
Lion’s expression was lethal. “It may please me to take a mace to your head in the very near future.”
Lorenzo clucked reprovingly. “Such violence. How can you set a fitting example for the young when you are clearly a barbarian?”
“Lorenzo, I’m going to—” Lion stopped abruptly. “Sanchia, you may ask your questions when we stop at the Inn of the Two Swords this evening. I’m in a hurry now.” He kicked the stallion into a trot. “Bring her.” A moment later he was halfway down the street.
Sanchia frowned. “I made him angry.”
Lorenzo shook his head. “The situation makes him angry, but that will change shortly. I’m surprised he’s lasted this long.” He edged his horse closer and took the reins from Sanchia’s hand. “However, perhaps I shouldn’t have goaded him so. I believe we can expect to have an extremely hard and fast trip today. Lion grew up on a horse and forgets there are others who prefer traveling on two feet rather than four.” He grimaced as he turned his horse and began leading Sanchia’s mare in the direction Lion had taken. “Dio, how I hate riding these foul-smelling beasts.”
The trip was as grueling as Lorenzo had predicted, and Sanchia was near exhaustion when they finally stopped at sunset at the Inn of the Two Swords. A hundred times she had wanted to ask Lion to stop and let them rest, and a hundred times she had bitten her lip and remained silent. It was not her place to complain, and she had little opportunity to speak to him anyway. For most of the journey he rode at least a quarter of a mile ahead of her and Lorenzo.
The interior of the small inn appeared clean and a cheerful fire burned in the stone fireplace in the common room. The delicious aroma of roasting hare drifted to Sanchia’s nostrils from the spit that a buxom maid was turning over the fire.
The innkeeper bustled forward, a broad, toothy smile lighting his angular face. “Welcome, my lord, it’s a pleasure to have you again under my roof. How long will you be with us?”
“We leave at dawn tomorrow, Antonio.” Lion drew off his leather gauntlets and tucked them in his belt. “See that our horses are cared for and water heated for us for washing.”
“At once, Magnifico. I’ll call my son to take your horses to the stable and they’ll receive the finest care.” The innkeeper snapped his fingers and the maid left the spit and hurried toward them, an eager smile on her lips. “Heat water and bring it to Lord Andreas and his companions at once, Letitia.” His gaze went to Sanchia and he frowned. “You remember, we have only the two rooms, my lord. Will the lady—”
“The lady will occupy my bed,” Lion interrupted. “Send Letitia with wine at once and with our dinner after we’ve had an opportunity to wash.”
Sanchia caught the flickering expression of disappointment on the servant girl’s face before she hurried from the room, trailing the innkeeper.
Lorenzo was already climbing the short flight of stairs. “I’m going to stretch out and rest these aching bones. When the wench brings the food call me.” He grimaced as he glanced down at them from the landing. “I don’t know why I let you persuade me to mount one of those beasts from hell, Lion.”
“Because you’re too lazy to walk,” Lion said dryly. “And you’re afraid you’ll miss something if you stay at Mandara.”
“Things were much simpler and more comfortable before you decided to save me from my life of iniquity.” Lorenzo opened the door at the top of the stairs. “I managed very well in Naples without running from place to place jarring my bones and doing grievous harm to my person.” He
glanced over his shoulder. “By the way, you’d best care for your urchin. If you weren’t avoiding looking at her, you would notice that she may collapse at any moment.”
Lion’s gaze flew to Sanchia.
“I’m not tired,” Sanchia said quickly. “Well, perhaps a little.” She tried to keep from swaying. “I’ve never ridden a horse before and the sun—”
“Cristo!” Lion’s hand was on her elbow propelling her up the steps. “Why didn’t you tell me you needed to stop?”
“You said you were in a hurry.”
“So you let me drive you until you were ready to fall off the damned horse? Have you no sense?” Lion threw open the door next to the one through which Lorenzo had disappeared and half pushed her into a small bedchamber. “Lie down until Letitia comes with the wine.”
“I don’t have to lie down. I’m not ill.”
He picked her up and tossed her unceremoniously onto the bed. “And you’re not going to be ill. I have no time to be your nursemaid.”
A ghost of a smile touched her lips as she thought of Lionello Andreas in a sickroom. He was so big, his energy and vitality so great, she couldn’t associate him with illness. “I’ll endeavor to ward off all maladies so as not to inconvenience you.”
“Are you laughing at me?”
Her lashes fell to veil the glint of mischief in her eyes. “I would not dare, my lord.”
“You’d dare.” He stood looking down at her for an instant before turning on his heel. “Rest. I’ll go next door and let Lorenzo laugh at me awhile. I’m more accustomed to his barbs than yours.”
Sanchia raised herself on one elbow. “Barbs, my lord? I merely jested a bit. If you’d rather I wouldn’t laugh, you must tell me and I’ll—”
He held his hand up. “Must you be so obliging? I’m not so puffed up that I can’t laugh at myself.” Suddenly a smile lit his harsh features with rare warmth. “And I always get my own back eventually.”
The Wind Dancer/Storm Winds Page 8