City of Swords (39 page)

‘Are you ready to tell me why now?’ asked Ms Jewell.

‘You believe me about this last cut?’

‘I do. And I believed you last time when you said you wouldn’t do it again. But you still haven’t told me anything about why you did it in the first place.’

Laura was silent for a while. This was a bigger thing in her life than being cut by a sword. ‘You know you asked about what my parents expect from me?’

‘Yes.’

‘Well, it’s more about what I expect from myself.’

‘It’s a big responsibility being an only child.’

‘But that’s it,’ said Laura. ‘I’m not actually an only child.’

She had managed to say it at last.

Ms Jewell felt a thrill of unexpected excitement. Bingo!

‘Tell me about your sibling,’ she said, trying to keep her voice even.

‘She’s in a hospital,’ said Laura. ‘She’s not like a normal sister.’

Chapter 22

Lost Silver

In the black and white cathedral in Remora the members of the di Chimici family were again assembled for a funeral. Again without Beatrice, the princess who had been banished from the family by the Grand Duke.

The service was taken by the Bishop of Remora, a figure who had always been overshadowed by having the Pope based in his city but who now had a chance to shine; it would have suggested too much favouritism from the family to use any of the Cardinals, especially since one, Cardinal Rinaldo, actually was a di Chimici family member.

Prince Ferdinando was laid to rest with all the pomp and honours he could have wished; his coffin was enormous and very elaborate. His successor, Prince Gaetano, had a place of honour at the ceremony above his brother, the Grand Duke. He sat in absolute misery, next to Francesca, not so much any more for the known death of his uncle but for the probable death of Ludo the Manoush.

Gaetano had reached Remora with ten guards – seven of them wounded but three as corpses – two days earlier. By then, Fabrizio was in the city and had listened to his brother’s account of the raid and kidnap. He did not seem surprised.

‘These things happen,’ he shrugged. ‘You did your best to protect him, I’m sure. The important thing is that you are safe.’

But Gaetano wasn’t convinced by Fabrizio’s apparent detachment from the ambush.

Now he looked at his brother’s noble profile. He didn’t want to believe Fabrizio was an oath-breaker and, worse, an assassin. Gaetano agreed with Luciano that the person who ordered a murder was as much to blame as the one who carried it out. And he remembered clearly what their father had been like.

Luciano was not in the cathedral; it was far too dangerous for him to be there. Rodolfo was representing the Duchessa of Bellezza.

‘Not many of the older generation left,’ he said to Paolo the Horsemaster.

‘Indeed,’ said Paolo. ‘Only Jacopo of Bellona and old Ferrando of Moresco.’

He nodded to where the princes sat.

‘It is a burden on the young ones to come into their titles so early,’ said Rodolfo. ‘And the balance between us and them is all the more volatile.’

‘But you think well of Gaetano?’ asked Paolo.

‘I do indeed. He is cut from a different cloth, so unlike his father and older brothers.’

‘Then Remora will be all right.’

‘That all depends on the next Pope,’ said Rodolfo.

‘I am going to tie you to the chair and never let you go anywhere again!’ said Arianna.

Luciano laughed and held up his hands. Arianna had been alternating between showering him with kisses and scolding him ever since he had got back from Fortezza.

Rigello, the great spotted cat, was growling softly deep in his throat, unsure whether he was seeing an embrace or an attack.

‘You’re upsetting the cat,’ said Luciano. ‘You must tell him you love me really.’

‘Shh, Gello!’ said Arianna. ‘I am cross with your master, but it will pass.’

‘Why are you cross with me? I came back in one piece, didn’t I?’

‘Only just,’ said Arianna. ‘When I think of the risks you took, going into the middle of the army, letting Fabrizio catch you!’

‘I am here now,’ said Luciano.

‘And not going anywhere!’ said Arianna. ‘Do you realise we are supposed to be getting married in less than a week?’

‘I think of nothing else,’ said Luciano, trying to snatch another kiss.

This time she slapped him and Rigello leapt up and took the Cavaliere’s wrist in his mouth.

‘Ow!’ said Luciano. ‘Tell him to let go. I am totally serious and totally at your disposal. What would you like me to do?’

‘I don’t know,’ said Arianna. ‘I can’t get used to not worrying about you. Gello, let go. Maybe you should – I don’t know – decide what to wear?’

‘But the wedding is still days away. I’m sure I have something suitable in my room,’ he teased.

Arianna snorted. ‘You clearly have no idea what a wedding is like. I’ve been having fittings for weeks.’

‘I’ve never been to a wedding before,’ said Luciano. ‘And I’m not going to be wearing a dress.’

‘Go and ask Doctor Dethridge what you should be doing. He’s been married twice. He must know.’

But William Dethridge was not to be found; he was closeted with Rodolfo. It was the first time they had had a chance to talk more about Vicky’s stravagation and they wouldn’t have wanted Luciano to be party to that discussion.

‘My opinioune is still in favour of hire stravayging,’ said Dethridge.

‘You are sure?’ asked Rodolfo. ‘Do you think her talisman will be safe from any other accidental stravagation?’

‘Wee moste juste mayke sure yt is somme thynge she would notte parte with,’ said Dethridge.

When Ellen Reid came back to the therapist’s to collect Laura, Ms Jewell asked to have a word with her.

‘It’s all right, Mum,’ said Laura. ‘I’ve told her about Julia.’

Ellen sat down suddenly.

‘I think, Mrs Reid,’ said Ms Jewell, ‘that it would be a good idea for you and your husband to come with Laura for some family therapy.’

‘You think that’s what made Laura cut herself?’ asked Ellen. ‘Because of her sister?’

‘I think she has been trying to handle a family grief on her own,’ said the therapist.

They were silent in the car going home.

‘You don’t mind that I told her?’ asked Laura when they got back to the house she had left more than a fortnight earlier. It seemed very quiet.

For the first time she thought about what it must have been like for her parents on their own in the house while she had been at Isabel’s.

‘No,’ said Ellen. She looked much older. ‘Not if it got to the root of the problem. I wish you’d told me first that you were going to though.’

‘I didn’t know I was,’ said Laura.

Her mother went to put the kettle on for tea.

‘I’m ashamed that we have to go and talk about it to a stranger,’ she said. ‘I should have realised how much strain you have been under. And how wrong it is that no one outside the family knows about . . .’

‘. . . about Julia,’ Laura finished for her. ‘That’s been part of the problem. We never say her name.’

The kidnappers were holding Ludo in a hideout in the woods. They hadn’t injured him, had barely spoken to him, but he was under no illusions about his eventual fate. The little band of men wore no colours, but he was as sure that they were in the Grand Duke’s service as if they had been dressed in di Chimici livery from top to toe.

The only way he was going to get away with his life was if he could escape. But that was unlikely. His hands and feet were bound, his hands released only to eat, and Luciano’s Merlino-blade had been taken away. Each day was the same: a long, boring confinement to a rough shelter. And each night was restless and uncomfortable; the Manoush had not had enough exercise during the day for sleep to come easily. He was permanently tired but never drowsy.

And yet – he found he really did want to live.

He was only twenty-four and apart from the recent deprivations, he was fit and healthy. His heart and mind might have felt despair about the future, but his body revolted against the idea of being held prisoner until he was shot or hanged or stabbed.

He passed the unfolding hours considering various escape plans.