Rose Red (22 page)

“I live in retirement,” she explained.

“A great loss to the world.”

“Thank you for the compliment, signore.”
Bianca did not know what to make of this man. She looked to Andrea,
who showed no sign of embarrassment at being found in a deserted
spot, alone with a young woman. Bianca blushed to think of what
Francesco Bastiani would have seen had he appeared just a short
time earlier.

“My lord, we must go at once,” the
condottiere said to Andrea, a note of caution in his tone.

“I understand,” Andrea replied. “Fare you
well, Madonna Bianca.”

“Here.” She thrust the food into his hands.
“In case you have nothing to eat later. You were so hungry when we
first met today.”

“So I was. Thank you for your
thoughtfulness.” Once more his smile suggested an interest in
something other than food. He bent to kiss her on each cheek,
murmuring to her as he did, “I will return the day after
tomorrow.”

“Yes.” By the sparkle in his eyes, she knew
he had heard her whispered response.

“Madonna.” Francesco Bastiani nodded to her
before walking off through the woods with Andrea at his side.

Bianca gazed after them, her thoughts in
turmoil. It was clear to her that Andrea was a more important man
than she, or anyone else at Villa Serenita, had guessed. Francesco
Bastiani had addressed him as “my lord,” and though insistent that
they must leave at once, he had been respectful.

A delightful idea seized her. It was just
possible that Andrea would prove to be important enough for her to
marry him. If he had wealth and fighting men, as his designation of
Bastiani as his condottiere indicated, then he might be willing to
help Bianca regain her lost patrimony. The idea would certainly
appeal to her mother.

And Andrea did appeal to Bianca. She had
enjoyed his every caress, had relished the way he made her feel
emotions she knew were most improper for an unwed young woman. If
they were married, he could do the same and more with her, whenever
he liked. He could do that everything they both had wanted so much,
yet had denied themselves. The fact that he had stopped upon
discovering her virginity proved he was an honorable man. Alone
though she was, the memory of what he had done instead of
possessing her as a man takes a woman made Bianca’s face flame and
made her press her hands to her hot cheeks. Before she set off on
the path leading out of the woods, Bianca dipped her hand into the
cold pool and splashed the cooling wetness to her face as her
would-be lover had done.

She was more than halfway across the meadow,
heading back to the villa, before her selfish dreams came crashing
down like a castle built of playing cards, and the guilt set in.
She and Andrea could never be happy together. Their marriage, or
even the suggestion that they might marry, would break Rosalinda’s
heart.

Worse, Bianca was sure that Rosalinda and
Andrea had lain together and had done many of the same things that
Bianca and Andrea had done. Perhaps they had done more. This was
undoubtedly the secret Rosalinda was keeping, for it explained her
presence in the servants’ quarters on the night when Andrea was
secretly there, and it also explained why the two of them had been
all but undressed when Bianca had seen them together.

Grief for
what could not be, jealousy, her life-long love for her sister, and
her new-found passion for Andrea – all these emotions collided in
Bianca’ s heart, reducing her to bitter tears. Bianca Farisi was
the most treacherous of sisters, the most unworthy of daughters, a
worthless, cowardly, scandalously lascivious female.

There was only one way for her to redeem
herself and that was by allowing her own heart to be broken instead
of her sister’s.

Bianca could easily arrange matters so the
right man and woman would be joined. On the day after tomorrow,
when Andrea planned to meet her by the waterfall again, Bianca
would take Rosalinda with her. Once the lovers had met, Bianca
would give them her blessing, and then she would leave them alone
together.

After that, the matter would be up to the
Duchess Eleonora, who had the right to choose her daughters’
husbands. If Andrea proved to be the nobleman that Bianca suspected
he was, and if he had succeeded in carrying out his mysterious
mission to Eleonora’s satisfaction, then there could be no
impediment to Rosalinda’s marriage to him.

Though Bianca might come near to dying of
unhappiness to see the man she wanted married to her own sister,
still she would have the comfort of knowing she had done what was
right. In time, wed to Rosalinda, Andrea would forget his brief
interlude with Bianca and all would be as it should be.

As she thought about this future, Bianca
discovered within her heart an aura of peace, almost of happiness.
She now began to understand, as she had never understood before,
the strength her mother derived from always doing her duty. Bianca
knew Eleonora had loved her husband, yet as soon as he was dead,
she had taken command of her remaining family and had never ceased
to consider the welfare of her daughters and of the friends and
retainers who were dependent upon her. With Eleonora’s example
before her, Bianca believed she, like her mother, could attain the
serenity that came from obeying a higher duty than the demands of
earthly passion.

She reached the villa in a state of emotional
and spiritual exultation.

“It’s just a little farther. I know you are
going to like this spot.” Bianca brushed aside the overgrown leaves
of a tall bush, holding the branches back until Rosalinda passed
by. “I feel quite proud of my discovery.”

“This is most unlike you.” Rosalinda waved a
hand at a swarm of tiny insects buzzing around her face. “What has
come over you, Bianca? I have always been the sister who explores,
the one who rides too far on dangerous paths.” Rosalinda’s voice
trailed off as the two of them left the undergrowth and stepped
into an open area.

“Here we are.” Bianca moved toward the
waterfall and the pool. “What do you think of my special
place?”

“It’s very nice,” Rosalinda said, looking
around.

“Is that all you have to say? I think it is a
beautiful spot.”

“Who is that up there on the rocks?”
Rosalinda tilted her head back, squinting to see better.

“Where?” Bianca’s heart missed a beat or two.
This was the moment for which she had longed for two days, since
her parting from Andrea. The moment of her redemption, which she
both dreaded and embraced, was at hand. She looked upward,
following the line of Rosalinda’s pointing finger, expecting to see
Andrea reaching for the tree branch he used to swing down to
her.

“That isn’t -” At first Bianca did not
recognize the wiry figure prowling along the edge of the rocks from
which the water fell. She knew only that it was not Andrea she
saw.

“What do you think you’re doing up there?”
Rosalinda cupped her hands and shouted the question. “We warned you
the last time we discovered you trespassing.”

The figure jerked, spinning around. A few
stones sprayed out from beneath his feet to bounce off the edge and
splash into the pool below the waterfall.

“We told you before, these are private
lands,” Rosalinda yelled. “Be gone, you rogue, or I’ll call the
guards.”

“Stupid wench! You can’t tell me what to do.”
As if to prove his claim, the figure on the rocks took a determined
step without looking where he was putting his feet. He misjudged
his distance and slipped off the edge. For a few breathless moments
he hung by his fingertips, legs dangling into the emptiness below.
“Help me!’’ he cried.

“We can’t help him,” Bianca said. “It will
take us too long to climb up there. Even if we could reach him, he
will probably fall before then.”

“Your own actions got you into this fix,”
Rosalinda shouted at the wriggling, gasping figure. “Now you will
have to pull yourself up, or else jump into the water and hope you
land without breaking any bones.”

“You are no help to me at all!” the dangling
figure screamed.

“That is just what I have been saying,”
Rosalinda retorted. “The choice is yours.”

“
I can’t
– yeow!” His fingers slipped too far on the moist rocks and the
weight of his body did the rest. The man plunged straight down into
the pool at the foot of the waterfall.

“Where is he?” Bianca cried, rushing to the
pool. “Rosalinda, I can’t see him. I had no idea the water was so
deep.”

“I have him.” Rosalinda had thrown herself
flat on the moss and had plunged her arms into the pool up to her
shoulders so she could search through the foaming water with both
hands. After a moment she caught a wrist and started pulling on it.
Bianca knelt beside her and together they dragged the man out of
the pool and laid him on the ground.

“He isn’t breathing,” Bianca said. “Did he
drown so quickly?”

“Help me roll him over,” Rosalinda
ordered.

They rolled him face down and Rosalinda
pushed on his back until he spat out water and drew a gasping
breath. A minute or two later he sat up, glaring at the sisters as
if he wished he could strike them dead.

“Little man, wet rocks will be the death of
you,” Rosalinda said.

“Get away from me, you sluts!” He wiped his
face with his hands, pushed the wet hair out of his eyes, and
looked more closely at the sisters. “Oh, it’s you two again. I
should have known it would be.”

“This is the second time my sister and I have
saved your life,” Bianca told him. “A word of thanks would seem to
be in order.”

“Laundresses! Crude peasants! You almost
broke my back just now with your rough handling.”

“How would you like to take another dip in
the pool?” Rosalinda asked, reaching toward him.

“Don’t touch me!” He scrambled to his feet,
nearly falling back into the pool before he caught his balance.

“
Rosalinda.” Bianca grabbed her sister’s arm. “Come away.
Don’t ask why, just do as I tell you.
Now.”

“What?” Rosalinda stared at her sister.
Bianca tugged harder on her arm. Her eyes still on Bianca’s serious
face, Rosalinda allowed herself to be drawn away from the little
man and into the undergrowth.

“What is it?” Rosalinda whispered.

“Hush. Someone is coming. We can’t be sure if
it’s a friend of that man, or one of our own men-at-arms on patrol,
but it’s better to be cautious. I do not like that little man.”

“Over here.” Rosalinda moved between a tall
boulder and a thick clump of bushes. “If we are quiet, they won’t
see us here. If it is one of our people, I want to tell him how
rude that nasty little fellow has been to us. Then let the
men-at-arms decide what to do with him.”

“
Little
fellow,’ “ Bianca repeated under her breath.
“Evil dwarf,
you mean.”

“What did you say?” Rosalinda looked at her
in surprise. “No, he’s not that small, just very short. And very
nasty.”

“To a tall man, he would seem like a dwarf,”
Bianca responded. “And I think he is more than nasty. I think he is
dangerous.”

“Shh.” Rosalinda went tense and still.
Carefully separating the leaves with one finger, she peered through
the concealing bush to watch the area around the pool. Bianca
looked over her shoulder.

Two men clad in woolen doublets and hose and
armed with swords and daggers walked into the clearing. They
stopped short when they beheld the wet, bedraggled figure standing
there.

“Oh, signore,” cried one of the newcomers,
“what has happened to you?”

“I knelt down to take a drink of water, you
stupid servants,” said the wet man, “and two peasant wenches
sneaked up behind me and pushed me into the pool.”

“A pity, signore,” said the first servant,
who appeared to be fighting back laughter.

“A disgrace to your dignity, signore,” said
the second servant in a more sober way.

“Have you by chance noticed two silly,
giggling girls running away from here?”

“No, signore,” said the first servant, “but I
assure you, if we had, we would have made fine sport of them. After
offering them to you first, of course.”

”
Imbecille!
Be silent! I do not know which of you is worse!
Unquestionably, you are the most incompetent servants I have ever
been forced to endure! Be glad you are not in Monteferro, for if I
had other men at hand to assist me, I would order both of you
gutted! Now,” the nasty little man went on a bit more calmly, “have
you discovered any trace of that young upstart and his
companion?”

“No, signore,” the first servant replied.
“Were you able to find a track in this area? You did say you
thought it a likely place, with water and berries near by.”

“If he ever was here, he is gone now,” said
the little man.

“Signore, I think we ought to search deeper
in the forest,” said the second servant. “If I were trying to
escape someone who was hunting me, that is where I would go.”

“Would you?” The little man cocked his head
to one side, studying the speaker. He nodded his approval. “You may
be right. The remains of the campfire I discovered were in the
hills above this area.”

“There may be caves in the mountains, where
they could hide,” the servant said.

“I am sure both of them would prefer a house
and hot food,” the little man responded. “But if they know how
close we are, they just might take to the hills.”

“There is a villa some distance down the
valley.” The first armed servant spoke up as if he did not want his
companion to take all the credit for serious thought. “We tried to
approach it but were stopped by a guard. When we asked in the
village, we were told that an eccentric, elderly widow lives there,
who won’t allow anyone on her lands. If we couldn’t get through the
guard, then neither could our young lordling and his friend.”