Page 26 of What Dreams May Come
Isabella’s high, fair forehead crinkled with thought. “Oh. Yes. I see. I did something I shouldn’t have while under the Montague roof, and therefore, while I should bear all responsibility for my actions, others might not view the matter ina like light.”
I’ll say this for her; she caught on quickly, probably the result of princessly training.
“Yet I should also confess to my brother...” She wrapped her arms around her waist. “I don’t know what to do.What’s right?”
“Sometimes what’s right isn’t easy to know.” After that diplomatic banality, I added, “However, I believe your brother is willing to...overlook the details of this transgression in return for the unspoken assurance you’ll never again engage in suchan adventure.”
“Never! I loved it so much until the end. It was like eating a delicious apple, and in the last bite, finding a worm!” She shuddered. “I’ll say nothing.”
Katherina groaned in relief.
“Although I must confess to Friar Laurence.” Isabella turned to the outstretched figure of my sister. “You too, Katherina.”
Katherina groaned in dismay.
I laughed and left them to their mutual commiseration, and probably some pleasurable reminiscing, and quietly retreated along the gallery toward my bedroom.
From the atrium below, I heard our footman call softly, “Lady Rosaline, you have a visitor.”
Gentle reader, I know you comprehend my next thought.
Now what?
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Wearily, I dragged myself to the rail and stared down at Tommaso. In my politest tone, far different from the one I wished to use, I asked, “Mayone ask whom?”
“A tall...person. She is...from a house on the square.” Before Tommaso became our footman, he’d lived on the streets and he knew very well who wished to see me. He simply didn’t know whether he should present her.
I nodded. “Madame Culatello. Welcome her in. I’ll descend.” Actually, if I didn’t get some sleep pretty soon, I was going to do more than descend. I was going to fall flat on my face. Nevertheless, I would not dismiss Madame Culatello or her exhaustion, either.
Madame Culatello had changed into a handsome day dress that complemented her narrow figure, but she looked worn and weary and a bruise discolored her cheek and blackened her eye.
I greeted her with smiles and thanks for her support last night, asked Tommaso to bring wine for us both, and expressed my hope that none of her ladies had come to harm in the riot of confusion that ended the masquerade. I also reflected guiltily on my belief that she’d been the one who betrayed me. That suspicion had been unworthy of her and cast shame on me.
When she had assured me all was well, I guided her into the atrium, open to the sky, and to the small table farthest from the bedrooms at the back where myparents slept.
As we sat, Madame Culatello took my hand, saw the ring, and burst into tears. “He found you. The prince found you!”
“Sh.” I handed her a cloth to muffle her sobs. “He did, indeed.” As a reminder, the cold seat felt good against my sore bottom. “As you see, I’m for the mostpart unharmed.”
“Berengaria saw you running from the masquerade. Men were chasing you. Men in satyr masks! She chased too, but one of them turned on her and shefled in fear.”
I wished to smack whichever of the prince’s bodyguards had dared frighten the valiant Berengaria. “I’m sorry I didn’t think to send a messenger. But you know I land on my feet.” I tried abracing smile.
Madame Culatello didn’t seem particularly reassured. “Berengaria returned to La Gnocca and we called in all our contacts, but no one knew where you’d disappeared to, only that you’d been chased when you tried to return to Casa Montague.” She gratefully accepted the wine Tommaso offered. “I worried because...Uria is gone!”
“Gone? How? The iron cuff!” I’d seen Madame Culatello lock it around Uria’s ankle.
“The cuff had somehow been opened.” She drank. “There was bloodon the metal.”
“Hers?” A stupid question, for how would Madame Culatello know? I, too, took the wine and swallowed to ease the constriction in my throat. “Was there a struggle? Could you tell?”
“A struggle, yes.Hecame and got her. Foolish girl. She failed him and now she pays the price.” Although Madame Culatello had been angry at Uria, and although we both knew Uria had given Count Prospero the information he needed to trap me, she still hurt for the young woman who had been one ofher companions.
I settled back in dismay. I’d assured myself the only one to come to harm tonight was me, and some would point out—had pointed out—I deserved all that happened and all’s well that ends well. Now I wondered what had happened to Uria, and hoped she didn’t fatally regret her foolish alliance withCount Prospero.
Madame Culatello turned the subject to what she considered a happier topic. “I’m so glad I found Prince Escalus and brought him. He saved you in time?”
