Heirs of Acadia - 03 - The Noble Fugitive (6 page)

The night was utterly still.

“Luca, is that you? My darling, have you come for me?” There was a slight snicker of sound. Nothing more. A hand might have tentatively tried the balcony shutters. “They have locked me in.” She had to struggle not to scream out the words. She wanted to shriek until the voice was torn from her body or the lock broken and the shutters flung back. “Luca, you must bring a tool, a weapon, something.”

There was another hushed hint of noise. So soft it might have been a cat. Then nothing. She stood motionless for a long time before returning to bed. She slept soundly for the first time in two weeks.

The next afternoon, just after the churches of Venice struck three, her mother unlocked the door and entered. “May we have a moment together?”

Had it been any other day, Serafina might have remained silent. But today she was filled with the impatience of a prisoner awaiting release. “Do I have any choice?”

The words clearly shocked her mother. She drew back a moment. “You can ask me to leave if you prefer.”

Serafina studied her hands. “It does not matter whether you stay or you go.”

“How can you speak to me in such a manner?”

She did not raise her eyes. “How can you keep your own daughter imprisoned like this?”

“What else are we to do with you?” Her mother shut and locked the door, then crossed the room. She sat in the empty chair. On the table between them was the morning tray with its half-eaten meal. “You are not eating enough.”

“When am I to be released?”

“Nothing has been decided.”

“What is it you want from me?”

“Want? What do I
want?
” Her mother collected herself.
“No. I promised myself I would not grow angry again. Tell me this, daughter. What is it
you
want?”

“That should be simple enough.”

Even in the half light she saw her mother tense. “No.”

But today, this time, it was not enough to silence her. “I want to marry Luca.”

“No. A thousand times, no!”

“Then do not ask me again.”

“You dare use this tone with your mother?”

“You asked the question. I have given you my only answer. I want to marry Luca. You refuse—”

“You will never see him again! Never! Do you hear me! I and your father forbid it!” Bettina’s anger turned the simple twisting of her hem into a fiery gesture. “Have you learned
nothing
in this time?”

Serafina chose silence. What good would it do to speak further? Luca would come for her. If not, she would escape. There was nothing else for her but this. No other life except with him.

But for her mother, the silence was the most irritating response she could have made. Bettina’s footsteps rang angrily across the floor. “I had hoped,
prayed
for an apology. You think I
like
treating you this way?”

Her mother fumbled the key from her pocket. She found it necessary to use both hands to fit it into the door lock. “All I ask for is respect. Respect for me, your father, your heritage. A sign that you are willing to obey us. Some indication that you have grown up enough to be trusted. . . .”

Her mother slammed the door upon her unfinished thought. The lock clicked back into place. Serafina sat and listened to the footsteps echo off into the distance. She returned her thoughts back to the one core issue.

Escape.

The days stretched on with Serafina remaining locked
inside the shadows, mostly alone. Her parents visited her every few days—sometimes separately, other times together. Toward the end of the third week, Serafina realized that her best hope of escape was by convincing her parents that she was over the infatuation. That she could be trusted.

But she was not good at subterfuge. Her mother had always been capable of seeing through her when she lied. Serafina tried it anyway. She claimed that she wanted to become the dutiful daughter once more. But before she had finished speaking, Serafina’s mother broke down and sobbed. Her father held Bettina and stared at his daughter. His expression suggested he had no idea who his daughter had become. He did not say another word as he drew his weeping wife from the room. And again locked his daughter inside.

That night Serafina became convinced of the problem. It was her parents’ age. If they had ever known what it was like to be in love, they had forgotten. They couldn’t help themselves. It happened with the years. She saw that now.

Serafina stared up at the dark ceiling and saw Luca’s face smiling at her. Some obstacle must prevent him from coming for her. She was certain of this. But a new worry gnawed at her. How long would he wait for her? How long before he would give up and accept that they could never be together? For herself, she knew she would wait forever. She had discovered love and knew there would never be another for her. But Luca was older. Did this mean he might find another? Serafina knew all too well how the other girls in their art class had yearned for him. Would he give in to their entreaties? Would he forget her? Serafina touched her own forehead, wondering if perhaps she had a fever.

Toward the end of yet another sleepless night, she had an idea. One that held promise of escape. Finally.

She rose from her bed and began making preparations.

Because she had neither quill nor proper paper, Serafina
wrote using her finest charcoal drawing pencil. She wrote upon half a sheet of drawing paper, which was coarse and very thick. She finished writing just as the house was coming awake around her. As she folded the letter, Serafina realized that she was signing away her life in Venice. She wondered at how little this seemed to concern her.

She knew she should be filled with remorse over the distress she was causing her beloved parents. And now she was preparing to sever connections to the only city she had ever known. She loved Venice. This water-borne realm was the only place she had ever imagined calling home. And her family was the finest in the whole world. Yet here she was, giving it all up without a backward glance.

Serafina considered this as she used the remnant of the previous evening’s candle to seal the letter. Her parents had decided to put themselves and their home and even this city on one side of love’s divide. On the other side stood Luca. She had been forced to choose.

In truth, there was no choice at all.

The upstairs maid, Carla, unlocked her door. Serafina had come to know the difference between the sound her mother made inserting the key and that of the maid. Carla was more hesitant, as though she had to resist the urge to knock. Carla was eighteen years old and had been in service to the family since she was thirteen. In a sense, she and Serafina had grown up together.

Over the weeks, Serafina had detected a hint of sympathy from the maid. Serafina also knew Carla loved to gossip. Her mother had once said they should discharge her because of how the family’s secrets were spread about the street. But to let go a young woman such as Carla without references meant she could never find another place of service. She would be reduced to working in one of the weaving mills or the silk dying factories. Serafina’s mother was far too good-natured to do this without extreme cause. So Carla had been warned and left in place as the upstairs maid.

“Good morning, mistress.” Carla was careful in her movements. Clearly she had been given strict instructions by Serafina’s mother. The girl set the tray and the bowls down just inside the room and turned to lock the door behind her. Then she brought over the breakfast tray and set it where Serafina had been writing. “I hope you slept well.”

“I never sleep.”

Carla sighed. Up until now, that had been the extent of their morning conversations. Carla always sighed. But she never said anything more. Her dark eyes showed a certain wisdom far older than her years. Serafina examined the face before her, wishing she had come to know this young woman better. “I need to ask you to do something for me.”

“I can’t.”

“You could,” Serafina said softly, “if you did not tell my parents.”

Carla straightened. She openly examined Serafina. “They would dismiss me.”

Because she was listening so intently, Serafina detected a number of unspoken hints. Carla had not said no. Which meant she might do this. But there was something more at work here. In that fleeting instant, Serafina realized she was no longer addressing a maid. Carla had become her equal. Even perhaps her superior.

Serafina whispered, “What do you want?”

Carla’s eyes flickered about the room, then came to rest upon the corner of the dressing table. “You have such lovely things.”

Serafina knew instantly what the maid saw. There upon the table sat Serafina’s jewel box. The carved little box with its velvet interior contained only three items of any real value. All of them had been left to her by her grandmother, her father’s mother. Serafina loved all three items dearly. Even so, she did not hesitate.

Serafina slipped the tiny golden key from the bracelet on her left wrist. She unlocked the box and opened the inlaid
top. She picked up the ruby brooch. She held it between them. “Is he still here?”

Carla’s face came alive in a manner that not even the room’s murkiness could mask. “He has been dismissed from the art academy. But he is still in Venice.”

“Can you find him?”

“I know where he lodges.”

The news caused an icy shiver to course through Serafina. She realized with a shock that Carla was quite attractive, although in a dark and somewhat earthy manner. Serafina fought down a sudden urge to grip the woman’s shoulders and shout at her, demanding to know how she knew such a thing. But the impulse was instantly dismissed. Luca loved
her
. “Will you take a letter to him and deliver his reply?”

Carla’s gaze never left the brooch. “Yes.”

Serafina took the letter from her pocket. She kissed the seal. Together with the brooch she placed it in Carla’s outstretched hand. “Go. Hurry.”

The day loitered in torturous fashion. Never had the slatted light seemed to travel so slowly across the floor of the room. Serafina endured what felt like eons of doubt. Finally, however, the key scraped into the lock, the door opened, and the maid reappeared.

Serafina remained seated in her chair only by gripping the arms and holding herself back. To her mind, Carla’s motions were more languid than ever before. She moved across the room, taking precious minutes to settle the tray upon the table between them. Finally, Serafina could stand it no longer. “Well?”

“I saw him.”

“You gave him the letter?”

Carla’s focus came to rest upon the jewel box. Serafina knew she wanted more payment. But she also knew there
were only two more items of any value. And there was a great deal more that needed doing. “Well?” she said again.

Carla seemed to accept that she would receive nothing further at this point. Her gaze hardened. “He says yes.”

“That’s all? Yes?”

“I was hoping for additional payment. After all, I have risked—”

Serafina leaped up so swiftly Carla gasped and backed away. But not fast enough. Serafina gripped the maid’s arm with a hand transformed to steel. She moved forward until her face was inches from the maid’s. “
Tell me
.”