Page 167 of Peasants and Kings
“You shouldn’t. But I won’t cross your future husband again. Even now, he could be planning retaliation. I don’t want any Moretti blood spilled over a vendetta. It’s too precious to waste.”
We fell into a pensive silence. I sipped my hot chocolate, wondering when I could escape the tragedy that was this room.
Angelo’s eyes softened when he looked into the fire again. “Will you tell me? Where she’s buried?”
I swallowed. “Why?”
“So I can bring her home. Where she belongs.”
“She took her own life,” I reminded him. “Doesn’t that violate the sanctity of The Church?”
“I think God will forgive her for protecting her child.” He paused. “Besides, it’s the family crypt and we have different rules than The Church.”
I told him the name of the town where she’d been laid to rest.
“Thank you,” he said, voice grave.
“You’re welcome.”
We would never be close—my uncle and I—there was too much between us. But there, in that moment, we both silently drank to the life of a woman we’d both loved and failed to protect.
In that moment, we were family.
Chapter Thirty-Eight
I woke up in the middle of the night, wondering what had caused me to stir. I reached for Hadrian, surprised that he was gone. How had he managed to get himself out of bed without me knowing?
I looked to the balcony doors. They were open, and moonlight streamed into the room, but I couldn’t see him out there. I was just about to get up when the bedroom door opened.
Letting out a squeak in surprise, I hastily pulled the sheet up to my chin. But it was only Gisella and Beatrice.
Beatrice hit the light switch and the room brightened.
“What the hell are you doing?” I asked Beatrice. “It’s the middle of the night!”
My glare transferred from my aunt to my cousin, both of whom were in formal wear. “What time is it? Why are you dressed like that?”
Gisella and Beatrice exchanged a smile.
“Where’s Hadrian?”
“It’s just past midnight,” Gisella said. “Do you want to wear a sheet to the party, or would you rather wear a dress?”
“Party? At this hour?” I asked.
“Family only,” Beatrice said. “Come on, everyone else is already dressed and waiting.”
My sluggish mind refused to comprehend what was going on, but I let them pull the sheet away from my body. I didn’t bother with modesty as I slid into undergarments and then the dress Beatrice had pulled out of the armoire.
It was a red, strapless confection and hit just above the knee. I thought about pulling my hair up but Gisella shook her head. “Leave it down.”
Beatrice brushed it until my locks were glossy.
When I slid into the matching red pumps, I looked to them for inspection. “I don’t have any jewelry,” I said.
“You don’t need any,” Beatrice said with a smile.
I followed them out of the room, my curiosity growing as we headed not to the salon, but to the back door that led to the vineyard.
