Belladonna (10 page)

“Cass.” Her whole face brightened as she glided down the stairs. “This is a surprise. If I’d known you were coming, I would have held breakfast.”

“Some tea would be lovely,” Cass said. Siena excused herself and went to find Mada’s handmaid, Eva, a friend of hers.

“Tea it is, then.” Madalena led Cass through the palazzo and out back to a small courtyard not unlike the one at her old home, Palazzo Rambaldo. The two girls sat across from each other at a small stone table that was shaded by the overhang of the palazzo’s roof.

Madalena reached out for Cass’s hand. “You poor thing. I was just composing a letter to you. I only found out this morning and simply cannot believe it.” She shook her head. “Luca da Peraga arrested.”

Cass nodded mutely. She had passed a small pile of messages sitting on the side table as she left her aunt’s villa. It had taken only a couple of days for the news to spread all across the city, and Agnese’s acquaintances had begun expressing their condolences.

A serving girl arrived with two teacups, two teaspoons, and a small plate of sugar. Cass waited for her to return with a steaming kettle of tea before she started speaking. “I was wondering if your father would travel to Florence soon,” she began slowly.

“Funny you should ask,” Mada said. “He’s been there for a couple of weeks. He left not too long after my wedding. Why do you ask?”

After a quick glance to make sure they were alone, Cass quickly recounted the story of Luca’s arrest, Feliciana, the trip to Palazzo Ducale, and the Book of the Eternal Rose.

“You’ve had a busy couple of days,” Madalena said, frowning. For a second she was quiet.

Cass leaned over and grasped Madalena’s hand. “I know it all sounds like madness, but I must get to Florence as quickly as possible,” she said.

“What does old Agnese think of all this?” Mada asked.

“I haven’t told her,” Cass confessed. “She’s been so weak. Just the soldiers ransacking the place looking for evidence of heresy took a lot out of her.”

“Evidence of heresy.” Madalena shook her head. “Ridiculous.”

“I know. But I have to prove he’s innocent somehow.” Cass had twisted her napkin into a coiled rope. “Or else they’re saying he’s going to
hang.
”

Mada’s dark eyes widened. “Of course we’ll get you to Florence.” She sipped her tea again. “Marco is supposed to meet my father there next week. He is scheduled to leave in two days. I can just arrange for us to accompany him. We’ll all stay with my aunt Stella. I haven’t seen her since I was a child.”

“And Feliciana?” Cass asked hopefully. “She doesn’t want to go back to Palazzo Dubois.”

“I’m sure we can squeeze in one more,” Mada said. “Perhaps Stella is looking for another maid.”

Excitement stirred within Cass. If she could get to Florence, she could find Hortensa Zanotta, and the Book of the Eternal Rose. Ideally, Hortensa would recant her testimony and the book would show Dubois for what he was—a monster. If Cass threatened to expose him, he would use his shadowy power to set Luca free.

Luca had done so much for her. This would be her way of beginning, slowly, to repay him.

Back at the villa, Siena paced Cass’s room like a caged animal. “I still don’t see how we can just leave,” she burst out. “With Luca rotting in prison.”

Cass cleared her throat meaningfully.

“
Mi dispiace
,” Siena mumbled immediately.

“I’m not leaving him to rot,” Cass said. “My only chance to free him is to find the Book of the Eternal Rose, and Luca believes it to be in Florence. Not to mention one of his accusers is hiding out there. Besides,” she added, “we can finally get your sister far away from Dubois.”

“I know it’s the right thing to do, but . . .” Siena shook her head as she stared down at the floor.

“And after we free Luca, I’m sure he’ll be more than happy to bring Feliciana into his employ.” Cass forced herself to speak with a cheery confidence she didn’t feel. There was one more obstacle standing between her and Florence: she had to persuade her aunt to let her go.

Fortunately, Agnese didn’t require as much convincing as expected. Cass let her aunt lead the conversation through dinner, doing her best to appear attentive but remaining uncharacteristically quiet. When Agnese finally asked her what was wrong, Cass sighed dramatically.

“I just can’t stop worrying about Luca,” she admitted. That much was true. “And every time I leave the house . . . .” she trailed off.

“Yes?” Agnese coughed into her dinner napkin.

“I feel like everyone is staring at me, and saying horrible things.” Cass looked up at her aunt for just a second before dropping her eyes back to the tray balanced on her lap. “Mada thinks I should get away for a while. She and Marco are going to Florence in a couple of days. She keeps insisting that I join her.” Cass sighed again. “I keep telling her that I should stay. I can’t just run away because the entire city seems to be mocking me, or worse—pitying me. What do I care what other people think?”

Agnese swallowed hard, placing her fork down next to her plate of roasted duck. She cared greatly what other people thought. “I do worry about whether Matteo has heard of Luca’s predicament,” she said. Matteo was Agnese’s nephew by marriage. He would come of age soon and inherit the estate, and Agnese fretted obsessively about her stature in his eyes because she didn’t want him to toss out Cass and the serving staff if he chose to come live in the villa. “Maybe a short trip would do you some good,” Agnese continued. “Florence
is
lovely this time of year.”

“But I can’t leave you here alone, Aunt Agnese,” Cass said, knowing this would further convince her aunt that she should leave. She picked listlessly at a greasy slab of duck, hoping she wasn’t overdoing it. Agnese was no fool. If she figured out Cass was trying to con her, Cass would end up locked inside the villa again while Narissa watched her every move.

“Alone? I wish I could have a moment alone in this house,” her aunt grumbled. “Narissa checks on me nine times a day, and that foul doctor shows up at all hours with his bloodsucking pets, not to mention the serving staff—I hardly think you’d be leaving me alone.”

Cass formed her face into a hopeful expression. “Really? It
would
be nice to get away for a bit . . .”

Agnese nodded. “And Madalena’s mere presence is a tonic for you.”

Cass leaned forward and kissed her aunt on the cheek. “You’ve convinced me,” she said. “I’ll send word to Mada immediately, if you’re sure you don’t mind being without me.”

“Of course I don’t mind. It was my idea. I only wish you would listen to me more often,” Agnese huffed.

Cass had to lift her napkin to her mouth to conceal a smile.

Cass spent the entire trip to the mainland thinking about the papers she had found in her parents’ tomb. What kind of elixir was the Order trying to create, and when had her parents become involved? Was that why they had never been home?

She couldn’t help but feel a wave of anger. How could her own parents have willingly associated with Joseph Dubois? How could they have felt a greater allegiance to a secret society than to their own daughter? These same thoughts tumbled relentlessly through her head as their ship approached land.

Men with carriages were waiting for the party as they docked at Mestre, the main connecting point between the Rialto and the mainland. The carriages were made of sturdy wood with big metal wheels, each pulled by a single horse.

Cass stared in fascination. The last horses she’d seen had belonged to the Doge—great glossy black things that were draped in gold and velvet and stood almost twice as tall as she did. These were shorter, with wide furry legs and bare backs. Cass approached the nearest horse, reaching out a hand toward its muzzle.

The horse raised one of its forefeet and stamped it on the ground. Cass hesitated. The driver laughed. “Go on then. He won’t bite you.”

She reached out to stroke the horse’s forehead and it nickered softly. Suddenly, she missed Slipper terribly.

“He likes you,” the driver said. “He always likes the pretty girls.”

Cass blushed. She patted the horse again. It made a chuffing sound as it studied her with its big black eyes.

The party split into two groups. The servants and the men hired to tend to the horses rode in one carriage, and Cass, Madalena, and Marco rode in another. Cass hadn’t ridden in a carriage since she was a little girl. Back then it had seemed fun, the rhythmic clip-clopping of hooves as the carriage skipped along. Now she felt like her head might bounce right off her neck. She clutched the side of the bench for support while Marco wrapped his arms around Mada to steady her. When the path flattened out, Marco and Madalena remained twined around each other, trading occasional quick kisses when they thought Cass wasn’t looking. Cass swallowed a sigh. She wished she were riding in the servants’ carriage with Feliciana and Siena. They were probably gossiping and giggling.

“Are you all right, Cass?” Marco asked. “You’ve got a funny look on your face.”

Cass blurted out the first words that came to mind. “I was just wondering how long it will take to get to Florence.” She glanced out the window. The sun had already fallen below the tree line. She couldn’t believe how many trees there were. Ribbons of pines and firs snaked out in all directions, twisted gray trunks crowned with feathery branches. The air smelled fresh, like a fire at Christmastime. Completely different from the moldy, fetid odors of Venice.

“About a week,” Marco answered.

A week! Cass tried not to imagine how sore she’d be after an entire week of being jostled around the tiny carriage compartment. And worse, she quickly did the math in her head. That would leave only two and a half weeks for her to find the Book of the Eternal Rose and return to Venice before Luca’s execution.

As she adjusted to the roiling, jerking motion, she distracted herself with the stunning and unfamiliar views that rolled past her window: more and more forests, a multitude of green patches, and far in the distance, a line of mountain peaks jutting high above the trees.

“The Apennines,” Marco said, following her gaze. “Lovely, aren’t they?”

It took three days to reach the base of the Apennines. The surface of a turquoise lake shimmered in the moonlight, and the dark shadows of the mountain peaks loomed all around them. Cass couldn’t help but think of Falco. He would love this beauty; he would know how to draw it.

One day turned into another. And then another. They traded the mountains for wild open meadows, for tall wet grass and soft dirt roads. The sun rose and set again. Twice during the journey, Cass’s carriage got stuck in the mud. The male servants and the carriage attendants had to push and pull the giant wagons to get them through the murky soft spots and back onto the path. Cass began to wonder if they would ever reach Florence.

Finally, the carriage driver announced they were nearing their destination. Cass hung her head out the window, eager for a view of the city.

But she didn’t see any buildings or people, not even way off on the horizon. All she saw were more fields, great grassy meadows that stretched out for miles, with rolling hills beyond them. She pulled her head back inside, intending to check the view from the other side of the compartment.

Suddenly, the carriage lurched violently to the left, throwing her and Madalena against the edge of the window. Cass heard the shrill whinny of the horse, followed by swearing. Metal shrieked on metal. The carriage tilted at a strange angle, leaving the window pointing toward the ground.

“Mada, are you all right?” Cass and Marco reached for Madalena simultaneously.

Madalena nodded, rubbing her side and wincing. “What happened?”

The driver’s head appeared in the window. “Is everyone all right?” he asked, red-faced. One at a time, he helped the girls crawl out through the small opening.

Cass wriggled awkwardly through the window, tugging her skirts behind her. She landed on the dusty ground, where Siena immediately helped her to her feet. One of the front wheels of the carriage had hit something—the wooden axle was broken clear through.

“What now?” Cass asked. The servants and carriage attendants were all milling around, muttering. They had broken down near a crossroads, but both streets were completely bare of traffic. Open meadows stretched around them, with tree-covered hills off in the distance.

Marco cursed. “And only an hour outside of Florence.”

The driver knelt beside the fallen axle. “We can’t move on until the damage is repaired.”

Just then, Cass heard a howl from the trees. She turned toward the noise and saw a pack of wild dogs across the field—four of them in total, slinking around the periphery of the tall grass.

“Marco,” she said, her throat tightening. “Dogs.”

Marco turned. “They won’t bother us, Signorina Cassandra,” he said. “We’re too many. Dogs are cowards.”

The largest dog lowered its haunches to the ground, and the others followed its lead. But Cass couldn’t shake the feeling that they were watching her.

Waiting.

She stared back, not wanting to appear afraid, until the rhythmic drumming of hoofbeats drew her attention. A carriage was approaching from the direction of Florence. She watched the cloud of dust draw near, realizing it wasn’t a carriage after all. It was an old wooden cart pulled by a short, squat horse. Two men in leather doublets were perched on the back of the cart, their boots dangling almost to the ground. Another man straddled the horse. When he spotted the disabled carriage, he slowed the horse to a walk and pulled up near the side of the road. Cass headed toward them to see if they could offer assistance. Too late, she realized what the cart was carrying.