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Authors: Clarissa Ross

Tags: #romance, #classic

Vintage Love (102 page)

BOOK: Vintage Love
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“Yes,” he explained. “I have another idea. I think I know where Brizzi might be in hiding. I’m going to look for him and if I find him I’ll accuse him of murdering Brother Louis.”

“That could be dangerous,” she said.

“I shall be careful in how I handle it,” he said. “But that villain, Brizzi, must be brought to justice.”

“And Count Barsini as well if he is mixed up in the scheme,” she said.

“Definitely Barsini,” the old priest agreed.

“I don’t know what to do next,” she said. “I must somehow find Irma.”

“She’s likely in Brizzi’s hands,” the fat priest said. “If I find him I may learn something of where your sister is.”

“Will you try?” she asked eagerly.

“Depend on it, Miss Standish,” he said. “This has to be a terrible experience for you. I would like to help.”

“When do you think you may know something?”

“Late in the day.”

“Can we meet somewhere?” she asked.

“Yes,” he said. “But not where we’ll be seen. Let us meet at one of the tourist places. There’ll be mostly strangers there.”

“Very well,” she said. “Where?”

“The Mamertine prison,” he said. “I’ll meet you near its entrance and pretend to be showing you around. In the meanwhile we can talk.”

“What time?” she asked.

“Seven o’clock,” he said. “I won’t keep you long. You will have plenty of time to return to the palace for a nine o’clock dinner.”

“Good,” she said. “Will I have any trouble finding the place?”

“No. It’s close by the Capitoline Hill,” the priest said. “Your driver will find it easily.”

“Thank you,” she said warmly. “We met at exactly the right moment. You have given me some hope.”

“And you saved me from stumbling upon the corpse of Brother Louis and perhaps getting in great trouble.”

She said, “Perhaps we can go on doing each other good turns.”

“I hope so, my child,” the fat priest said.

“I would leave Rome but I cannot go as long as they hold my sister hostage. They think I have the Madonna and can turn it over to them.”

He said, “Why do they think such a thing?”

“I’m not sure,” she said. “I believe Barsini is the one responsible. He heard about me from Irma and used my name. But I can’t say definitely.”

His eyes searched her lovely face. “And you do not have any knowledge of the Madonna’s whereabouts?”

“I wish I did,” she said. “I’d gladly give it to them and get Irma back.”

The priest nodded appreciatively. “I’m sure you would. There are things beyond the value of jewels!”

He helped her into the carriage, doffed his hat again, and walked off swiftly. She told the driver to take her back to the palace and sat back to think all that had happened.

Prince Sanzio was waiting for her in the living room. As she entered he wheeled his chair forward to greet her. “I have been on edge waiting for your return,” he said.

She sat by him. Pensively she said, “I’m afraid I have not managed well.”

He let his breath out sharply and clenched the arms of his wheelchair. “Tell me!”

She said, “I believe we may be getting closer to the center of the evil.”

“Heaven hope so!” the old Prince said fervently.

“The other night she left Barsini’s with a man called Gregorio. An evil young man!”

“Those people around Barsini are all evil,” Prince Sanzio said angrily. “I blame Raphael. It was he who introduced her to the scoundrel.”

“I do not think he meant any harm by it.”

“It was still stupid of him!”

Della sighed. “I must agree. I went to see this Gregorio and he admitted Irma had been with him. But he said she left around dawn.”

“She did not return here!” the old Prince said.

“No. She left with a renegade from the Church named Brother Louis.”

The Prince frowned. “Are you sure?”

“I found this,” she said, taking the comb from her pocketbook.

The old man examined the comb. “Yes, yes, I recognize it. The stones are of second quality but I bought it for her and paid a high price. There are seven diamonds in it.”

“It was on the floor of the room where I found Brother Louis,” she said.

“And did he tell you how it came to be there?”

“I’m afraid not,” she said. “By the time I reached him he was dead. Murdered!”

The old man looked shattered. “Murdered?”

“Yes,” she said. “So I found out nothing.”

“So your day was wasted?”

“Not quite,” she said. “As I was returning to the carriage I met an old friend, Father Anthony. We met on the train from Paris.”

“Yes. You told me about him.”

“I had asked him to help me in any way he could and told him about the thieves thinking I had the Madonna,” she said. “He had traced the theft to a man known as Brizzi and this Brother Louis. He was on his way to question Brother Louis when I encountered him.”

“And told him of the murder?”

“Yes,” she said. “He was shocked but he claimed to have some knowledge of where Brizzi might be found. He left me determined to try and locate him and find out about Irma. I’m to meet him later.”

“Then there is some hope,” the old man said.

“Yes,” she replied. “I have an appointment with Father Anthony at seven. Where are the others?”

“Henry Clarkson is in the city doing some paperwork with my lawyers,” he said. “Your aunt is upstairs resting. And I have no idea where Prince Raphael is. He left here shortly after noon.”

“I’d like to talk to him about all that has happened,” she said.

“Beware of that young man,” the old Prince warned her. “I do not trust his ready charm. He has led Irma to ruin!”

“Surely not by intention,” she said.

“I’m not sure,” the old Prince said, his sallow face grim. “Count Barsini is a powerful man and very wealthy. I think Raphael would do almost anything to gain favor with him.”

“Including betraying his fiancée?”

“Perhaps,” the old man said bitterly. “History is filled with many more loathsome betrayals.”

“I think we should give him the benefit of the doubt until he is proven guilty,” Della said.

Prince Sanzio eyed her with some alarm. “He has cast his spell on you as well.”

“No,” she said. “But he has never shown himself to be our enemy. With Barsini, it is different! He is the most vile of men!”

She left the old Prince and went upstairs. Something impelled her to go by Irma’s room and, as she did, she tried the door and went inside. She was startled to find the room was not empty.

The midget Guido had been standing by the candle before the carved Madonna, touching a taper to the wick in the giant glass bowl. Hearing her, he turned with a look of guilt on his small, wrinkled face.

The little man said apologetically, “Forgive me, you gave me a bad start. For a moment I thought it was Princess Irma returned.”

“Do you expect her return?”

“No,” he said unhappily. “I came to her room to see that all was in order. I found the candle had somehow gone out. I lit it again. The Princess never wished this candle to be out.”

Della said, “I did not think her so devout!”

The midget crossed himself. “Bless her! She was! As a child the Church was all her world! She was educated by the nuns.”

Della had memories of the naked Irma on the black velvet of the Satanist altar and contrasted this with what she was hearing about her missing sister now.

“As an adult she has become less religious,” Della suggested.

Guido sighed. “It is all too often the case. Yet I think much of her early training remains with her. And here in the privacy of her room the flame always burns before the Madonna’s shrine.”

“Let us hope Irma will soon be found,” she said.

“You are much like her,” Guido said, staring up at Della.

“Yes,” she said. “I know.” And she left him there in the room. He was a strange little man and she did not always understand him. But she was sure he was truly devoted to the old Prince and to Irma.

She rested for a little and was dressing to go meet Father Anthony when a knock came on her door. It was Prince Raphael.

He said, “I hear you are going to meet someone at the Mamertine prison in the hope of finding Irma. You’re not going alone. Prince Sanzio says I’m to accompany you.”

Chapter Twelve

“I think I should go alone,” she protested.

Prince Raphael, handsome in a dark brown suit, stepped into the room. He faced her seriously and said, “No. I cannot allow that. I heard the risk you took earlier today.”

“Prince Sanzio told you?”

“Yes.”

“I don’t want it known I was there or found the dead body.”

“I realize that,” he said. “There will likely be an account of it in the morning papers. The police are bound to find that renegade by then.”

“He had Irma’s comb!”

“So the Prince told me,” Raphael said. “And you are to meet this Father Anthony at seven?”

“Yes,” she said solemnly. “He might not come to me if he sees me with anyone else.”

“When we get there I will remain a distance from you,” Prince Raphael promised. “But I’ll always stay within call.”

“I was going to speak to Henry about coming along,” she said.

The Prince shook his head. “I will be of much greater use. I know the city and the Mamertine prison. I want to protect you.”

“Thank you,” she said, looking up into his eyes. “I have always believed in you.”

He was studying her and with great gentleness took her in his arms. “You look so like Irma tonight,” he said and kissed her.

“Please!” she begged and at the same time pushed him away.

As she did so she saw that Henry Clarkson had come to stand in the doorway of their room and was watching them crimson-faced. He had to have seen their embrace.

Crossing to him, she said, “Henry! I was just going to look for you.”

“Were you?” the young lawyer said coolly. “It seemed to me you were pretty busy here.”

“Don’t misunderstand!” she protested. “Raphael is going with me for a special meeting. I hope to learn more about where Irma is.”

“I see,” Henry said, unrelenting in his cool polite tone.

Raphael came toward him. “It was my fault, old man! I gave way to an impulse and kissed her. Don’t blame her!”

“Why should I?” Henry said. “It is I who should be blamed for intruding on her when she is entertaining a friend in her room. Forgive me!” He bowed stiffly and walked off down the corridor.

“Henry!” she called out the door after him, but he paid no attention. She came back into the room and told Raphael, “We surely didn’t manage that well!”

“I apologized and told him the truth!” Raphael said heatedly. “What more could he expect? What is so awful about a kiss between friends? I wished to comfort you.”

She said, “Whatever you wished you made him jealous.”

“It is his jealousy that is at fault,” the Prince said angrily. “Does he not trust you?”

Della smiled ruefully. “You’re defending yourself well. But in his place I doubt if you’d have acted better.”

“I stepped aside when Irma made it clear that she preferred Count Barsini to me.”

She said, “Was that because of your love for her or because you were willing to surrender her to the Count in exchange for his goodwill?”

The handsome young man looked dismayed. “You cannot believe that about me!”

“It was a question.”

“The answer is no.”

“And when Irma is found will you marry her?”

He shrugged. “That depends on her. Yes, if she will have me. And if you refuse to consider me.”

“Why should I come into it?”

“I told you almost on our first meeting,” the Prince said “I have fallen in love with you.”

“Please!” she raised a hand in protest. “I don’t want to hear that again. And especially when Irma is in danger because these thieves think I’m unwilling to part with their precious Madonna.”

The Prince smiled. “You should take an advertisement in the newspaper. A whole page! Tell them you know nothing about it!”

She said, “I think I would if I felt it would do any good.”

The Prince reached into his vest pocket and produced his elegant gold watch. “If we are to reach the prison on time we’d better leave.”

She said, “I wish I could explain to Henry before we go.”

“Do not worry,” Raphael said. “Prince Sanzio will make it clear to him that he requested me to accompany you.”

“Are you certain?”

“Yes.”

She took his word for it and they left. They saw no one on the way out. The carriage was waiting and Raphael told the driver where they wished to go and the route they would take to get there.

When they were on their way he turned to her on the seat beside him and asked, “Why did this Father Anthony choose this spot to meet?”

“He said it was a tourist place. That it would be busy and we would not be noticed.”

“In a way that is true,” the Prince agreed reluctantly. “But I could have thought of other places.”

They drove on and passed the Palatine Hill. Raphael told her that in 753
B.C.
. Romulus ordered the building of a great wall around it. The wall that was supposed to protect the citizens was constructed along the lines of those put up by the Etruscans, the first builders of Italy. And in time the wall grew to become a circle around the Capitol. Escaped slaves and criminals came to seek the safety of the asylum established on the adjoining Capitoline Hill.

“You can see that even today part of this area remains bare,” Prince Raphael pointed out.

“And it is of great elevation,” she said.

“It rises at least sixty feet,” he agreed.

This conversation did little to distract Della from thoughts about Irma. Her captors had promised they would let her live for a week. But she could not fully believe that And if anything happened she would never forgive herself. She would feel that Irma had died in her place.

Raphael glanced at her and said,” You’re in a dark mood.”

“I know. I’m truly fearful for Irma.”

“I hate to think about it,” he admitted.

“Why don’t you go see Barsini?” she urged him. “He might tell you more than he did me.”

“I much doubt it,” Raphael said. “Barsini hates me.”

BOOK: Vintage Love
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ads

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