Page 37 of Thus with a Kiss I Die
“The meanest old woman in Verona,” Elder reminded me.
“I’m also the meanest old woman in Verona, Padua, and Mantua.” Again Nonna Ursula, more or less, echoed Elder. Could she in some hidden part of her mind hear him?
“I’d wear the meanest old woman tiara for Venice, too, but last I heard that Acquasasso bitch is still alive. Lady Pulissena, cursed be her name. But, girl, do you have a better idea to find out if our assassin is still living? And for flushing out the villain?”
I couldn’t, and I looked to Elder.
He shook his head. “She told me I had a talent for intrigue, and that I inherited it from her.”
Nonna Ursula took my continued silence as acquiescence. “Tomorrow evening, as the sun goes down, we’ll gather a convocation of sympathetic women to lure the castle ghosts with chants and charms, and discover what they witnessed on that blood-soaked night of murder, treachery, and sorrow.”
CHAPTER21
After the dinner at the palace, as my family rode through the streets of Verona in the sedan chairs, we heard shouts; and peeking through the curtains, we saw torch light in the distance.
“What is it?” Cesario’s clear voice echoed down the empty street.
Papà hushed him, and said, “The flagellants. Let us not attract their attention.”
The bearers picked up speed, the prince’s bodyguards ran beside us, swords drawn, and we arrived at Casa Montague safely, if much jolted by the pace, and worried as all must be at the disruption of Verona’s fair streets.
Mamma, especially, had been sickened by the movements. Nurse and I put her to bed, while Papà carried the drooping Cesario to his chamber and commanded my sisters to theirs.
Nurse placed a cool, damp cloth on Mamma’s forehead. Tonight the strain of her pregnancy showed, for her long, dark lashes rested on her pale cheeks and she patted her belly as if urging calm on a restless child.
I took Mamma’s limp hand and felt her wrist. “Better now? Can you sleep?” Her heart beat true and strong.
“The nausea recedes. The activity does not.”
I saw a thump of a fist or foot up by her ribs and winced.
Her brown eyes popped open. “But my daughter Rosie, I would know why tonight you shed the chaperonage of your siblings to wander alone with Prince Escalus, then wander the palace alone by yourself, then disappear with Princess Ursula.”
I knew what she wanted; she wanted to know whether and how well I’d obeyed her commands in regard to the prince and our betrothal. Yet in her current delicate state, I debated what and how much to tell her. “You know why I allowed the children to disappear.” My gaze followed Nurse as she puttered around the room, her head turned to provide her ears clarity. I raised my voice to help her. “They had listened to enough of Prince Escalus’s odd enthusiasms. He is my burden to bear, and when Princess Isabella offered them escape, I sent them forth.”
Mamma nodded, pleased with my answer. “As I come to know Princess Isabella, her resemblance to dear Eleanor grows stronger. I feel as if my friend has requested me to act as mother and guide.” She grimaced and massaged her belly. “While you were alone with Prince Escalus, did he give your father cause to slaughter him?”
“Before he could do that, he was interrupted.”
“Who would dare?”
“Who, indeed?” I hovered on the edge of confession, unsure if I should mention Elder. If I told Mamma I’d seen him, she would certainly believe me. She knew lying was not my modus operandi. Manipulating and finagling, yes. Lying, no. But would she wonder at my sanity?
While I contemplated, Mamma struggled up onto her elbows, then flopped back on the pillows. “Would you calm down?” She spoke fiercely, and not to me and not to any ghost. She spoke to the coming Montague, and she was as exasperated as any woman carrying a child could be.
Nurse hurried over. “What do you want, my lady?”
“I want to stand up. Or rather, the little tyrant wants to stand up.”
“You should sleep.” Nurse glared at me as if I were keeping Mamma awake.
“He wants me to stand and”—Nurse helped Mamma to her feet—“he wants to be walked.”
I sighed and put away my desire to tell about Elder. Mamma was burdened enough with a woman’s holy duty nurturing a new life, and while she might deal with equanimity at the news of a haunting, she would most definitely forbid me to seek the villain who’d murdered Elder. I didn’t blame her, it did seem foolish to the extreme, but I had to keep in mind my reward. When I succeeded, Elder would owe me, and he’d agreed to guide me into the arms of my One True Love.
More pragmatically, although I’d be leaving Cal without a wife, I’d also be ensuring his safety and the safety of his sister, for they were in danger as long as the assassin remained free. And if he’d allow me, I’d arrange a more suitable match for Cal. That obsession that drew us together was powerful, I acknowledge, and he’d proved to me he hid within his undemonstrative facade the means to persuade me to . . . view his art collection, and with pleasure.
But what would we talk about subsequently? I knit my brow. “Mamma, what do you and Papà talk about in bed? After?” I spoke without forethought, and when Mamma and Nurse turned their amused gazes on me, I wished I’d kept my mouth shut.
