Venom (43 page)

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Authors: Fiona Paul

Tags: #Mystery, #Young Adult, #Romance, #Fantasy, #Historical, #Thriller

BOOK: Venom
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“Fainting occurs when

the four humors rush swiftly from the

head and limbs to the area about the heart.

This process is evident in the way the

face grows suddenly pale, as though

drained of its normal essence.”

—THE BOOK OF THE ETERNAL ROSE

twenty-eight

C
ass woke with a stabbing pain in her neck. Narissa was standing over her. As Cass straightened up, realizing she’d fallen asleep at the kitchen table, Narissa’s eyes went immediately to the painting. Too late, Cass tried to cover the canvas. Narissa raised an eyebrow but, thankfully, opted not to do any scolding.

“Betrothal present,” Cass said weakly. She rolled her head in slow circles. When she brought a hand to her cheek, she could feel that tiny indents peppered the side of her face where she had slept pressed against Falco’s textured brushstrokes.

“I’m sure your future husband will enjoy it,” Narissa said wryly. She straightened the empty chair to Cass’s left. “Given today’s special occasion, your aunt has decided Siena may attend to you. She’s probably looking for you in your bedchamber.”

Mada’s wedding! Cass leapt to her feet. She had promised her friend she would be there for every second of it. Cass had disappointed almost everyone with her recent behavior. She couldn’t let Madalena down too.


Grazie,
Narissa,” Cass said, heading toward the dining area. She turned back just as she reached the doorway. “You won’t mention this painting to my aunt, will you?”

“What painting?” Narissa asked. Wrinkles formed at the corners of her eyes and mouth as she smiled.

Cass felt a rush of gratitude for her. Maybe the older maid hadn’t completely forgotten what it was like to be young.

It was still early, but Cass knew that Mada would kill her if she was even a minute late. The wedding ceremony would start at ten, and the festivities would run into the night. Cass raced up the stairs and through the long, dark dining room, the tile floor cold under her bare feet. When she hit the threshold to the portego, she pulled up, bracing her arms against the door frame to keep from spilling into the big open room.

Luca sat on a divan facing the
Last Supper
mosaic. Two unfamiliar men in mud-caked boots sat opposite him. Red woolen doublets peeked out from underneath tarnished breastplates. Silver broadswords dangled from their waists. They all stopped speaking when she appeared in the doorway. The two men immediately averted their eyes.

Luca reddened. “Cassandra,” he said haltingly, as if it were a struggle to merely form the three syllables of her name.

Cass realized she was standing in the portego in only her nightdress, having left Siena’s cloak in the kitchen. “
Molte scuse,
” she said, and darted for her room. Much as she was curious about the men, she had no desire to stand there being gawked at. And she didn’t want to give Luca the opportunity to remark on the muslin bundle under her arm.

Cass slipped into her bedroom, shutting the door behind her with a quiet click. Siena’s tiny frame was half visible, her head poked deep inside the armoire.

“Siena!” Cass was so glad to see her lady’s maid, she could hardly keep from shouting. Then she saw that the girl’s eyes were red and puffy. Cass lowered her voice. “Still no word from your sister?”

Siena shook her head. She looked positively stricken, like she might collapse at any moment. Perhaps Agnese had reunited Cass and Siena for both of their benefits. “I’m sorry about what I said to you,” Cass began. “I feel awful.”

Siena shook her head quickly. “It’s all right, Signorina. You were upset. I know what that’s like.”

The poor girl. Cass had always wanted a sister. She couldn’t imagine what Siena must be feeling. “What’s going on downstairs? Who are those men?”

Siena emerged from the armoire. “They’re from the town guard.”

“But why are they here?” Cass demanded. “And why now? This is hardly an appropriate hour for visitors.”

Siena ducked back into the armoire. Her voice was muffled. “Apparently, your fiancé returned home late last evening and found a boy sneaking around on the property. He sent for them first thing this morning.”

Cass’s heart skipped. “Did—did the boy manage to escape?”

Siena gave Cass a doe-eyed look and nodded. “Just. That’s why Luca has called in the guard, to keep an eye out for his return. Was it your Falco?”

Cass shook her head. “No.” Once again, she didn’t bother correcting Siena about her choice of words. She bit her lip to keep back a sigh. She had resolved to stop thinking about Falco, but it was next
to impossible. She could almost feel his hands on her, tiny spots of heat that danced across her skin. She wondered why he had sent Paolo in his place. Perhaps he thought Cass would refuse to see him, that she would scream for protection.

Siena pulled out a pale yellow gown. It had matching slashed sleeves that were already laced up. Then she riffled through a pile of lacy accessories and held up a high, stiff white-lace collar and a pair of matching cuffs. “What do you think of this?”

“It’s perfect,” Cass said. She actually despised the gown. It brought out her freckles and the pink tones of her skin, but she didn’t care what she looked like today. Plus, the dress was so bland, Madalena couldn’t feel as though Cass was trying to upstage her. Not that Cass had ever believed she could compete in beauty with Madalena.

She thought of the canvas tucked under her arm. Was she really as beautiful as Falco’s painting? Or did he see things in her that simply weren’t there?

She bent down and slid the bundle under her bed. Then she went to her dressing table and yanked open the top drawer. Her journal lay among a mess of quills and hair ornaments. Cass slipped Falco’s letter into the back of the leather-bound book. It was probably the closest thing to a love letter she’d ever receive. She didn’t want to lose it.

The note she had begun composing to Falco, in which she told him she never wanted to see him again, was still tucked inside her journal. At least she hadn’t sent it. Her own pain was consuming her, but at least she had spared Falco some small measure of additional hurt.

Siena grabbed Cass’s best whalebone stays from the bottom
drawer of the armoire. She turned to Cass with the garment in her outstretched hand.

Cass heard the sound of heavy footsteps descending the front stairs. “They’re leaving,” she said. The wall clock read a quarter past eight. Cass had less than two hours to get ready and get to the church, but she was dying to know what Luca had told the guard. She couldn’t bear to wait an additional thirty minutes while Siena laced and buttoned her into the yellow dress. Instead, she tossed on a pale blue dressing gown and rushed out into the hall, ignoring Siena’s protestations.

Cass entered the portego just as Luca was shutting the front door. “What was that about?” she asked, keeping her voice light.

Luca pointedly refused to look at her. “Could we discuss this after you get dressed?”

Cass glanced down. Her dressing gown had fallen open. The fabric of her nightdress was thin, but it was far from transparent.

“I just want to know why the guard was here.” Cass cinched the belt around her waist, securing her dressing gown around her, more for Luca’s sake than her own. “Siena said something about a boy loitering on the property?”

Luca focused on the da Vinci mosaic. He seemed to regain his composure. “The boy claimed to be a messenger but refused to give me a message. He said he had wandered onto the wrong estate by accident.”

“What happened to him?” Cass fought to keep a straight face.

“I tried to detain him, but he ran off,” Luca said.

Cass arched an eyebrow. “Are you under the impression a simple messenger boy is committing grisly murders?”

“No. I don’t think he’s the killer, but he was probably up to no
good.” Luca finally made eye contact with Cass, but it almost seemed like he was looking past her, through her. “That’s why I summoned the guard. I’d like to make sure that we have no unpleasant…incidents.” The way he said it made Cass shiver. “As I’ve been telling you, Cassandra, you need to be cautious. People are not always what they seem.”

Cass lifted her chin and forced herself to sound casual. “I feel very safe here on San Domenico.” She added, for good measure, “
Especially
now that you’re staying with us.”

Luca smiled faintly. “I’m glad to hear it. I thought maybe you were finding my presence burdensome.” He flicked his eyes toward the mantel clock. “You should probably get dressed.”

Luca was already dressed. He wore black breeches and boots with a wine-colored silk doublet that fit snugly across his broad shoulders. A gold embroidered velvet cape hung from one shoulder. Most of his thick blondish hair was covered by a small-brimmed black velvet hat adorned with a plume of burgundy and white feathers.

“You look nice,” Cass said, partially to soften him and partially because it was true.

“So do you,” he responded instantly. “I mean, you will—I mean, you do now too, but—”

She turned back toward her room as Luca fumbled over his words. His politeness was sort of charming. So different from the men in the streets who hollered and clapped when women walked by. He probably wouldn’t even try to kiss her again unless she specifically told him it was all right. For a brief second, Cass wondered what it would be like to stand on her tiptoes and press her mouth against Luca’s pale lips. His beard had grown out some in the past few days. What would it feel like against the smooth skin of her cheek?

Wait. What was she doing? Luca was trying to get Falco’s roommate thrown in jail and instead of being angry, Cass was daydreaming about kissing him. She sighed. Everything had gotten so confusing since Luca had moved in.

Back in her room, Cass couldn’t keep herself from fidgeting as Siena threaded the silk ties through the eyelets of her stays. The laces would probably end up all upside down and backward, but all Cass could focus on was Falco. She had to see him again, just one last time. She wanted to thank him for the gorgeous painting. She wanted to let him know that Luca had alerted the guard about Paolo. It would be in the artists’ best interests if they steered clear of Agnese’s estate and the San Domenico graveyard for a while.

She knew where he would be today—at Palazzo Loredan for the art exhibition. Don Loredan lived just a few blocks away from Madalena. Cass decided she would sneak away for a few minutes after Mada’s wedding ceremony. It would be easy to get lost in the mob of people as the procession made its way from the Frari to Palazzo Rambaldo for the wedding feast.

Siena fashioned Cass’s hair into a tight bun and wrapped a white lace hair ornament around it. Cass grabbed a simple white hat and paused in the doorway of her bedchamber. Turning around, she snatched her journal from the top of her dressing table. Surely Agnese wouldn’t object to Cass recording details of the happy day.

Her aunt had put on her finest gown, made of deep purple satin with threads of silver sewn right into the fabric. She wore a lavender veil and just a hint of makeup around her steely gray eyes. Cass could almost see her own mother hovering behind Agnese’s wrinkled skin. She had never sensed the resemblance before. Even Narissa looked pretty in a simple green dress, her thinning hair hidden beneath a
silky veil. She carried a pair of small rosewood cadenas that contained Cass and Agnese’s personal silverware.

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