Fioretta screamed as the crowd separated them.
Hide, Vivi, hide!
Perspiration broke out over Viviana's skin as her heart beat a wild tattoo against her ribs. Inside her head, she was that little girl reaching out to Fioretta. "Come back for me," she whispered.
A knock at the door made her jump.
"Viviana?"
She spun, her worthless eyes wide. She pressed her back against the window sill and held the tablet tight against her breast, as if it were a shield to guard her person.
"What is amiss?" Taveon's concerned voice eased through her as he crossed the chamber. He brushed the tears from her cheeks, bringing forth an image of herself. She looked pale, terrified. Her watery purple eyes stared back at her, and her red lips quivered on the verge of releasing a sob. The colors had slowly returned over the past several days, making her treasure every moment Taveon touched her.
He pulled her into his strong arms and stroked her unbound hair. "Shite, Viviana! Ye are trembling. What has happened?"
"It is naught." She inhaled a shaky breath of relief. Her behavior was foolish. Of course he came back. While he might leave her, he would never leave the amulet.
"'Tis something. Ye are crying." He kissed the top of her head.
"The hour is past dawn. Ye always fetch me at dawn." She felt like a child. Her fingers unraveled from her hold on the tablet and clutched the seam of his doublet, pulling him a little closer. She could stay in his embrace forever, smelling his masculine scent and feeling safe in his arms.
"Ye thought I left ye?" The tension fell away from his body with a loud exhale. "Ye are my wife. When will ye ever trust me?"
She wanted to trust him, wanted to believe he would never abandon her the way so many others had. "Forgive my foolishness. My fears are unwarranted."
"Ye have conquered Goliath. What could ye possibly fear?" He tried to soothe her with his wit.
She smiled, but she was not so strong. "I fear being alone. I fear the memories that make me weak in my darkness."
"Ye are not alone." He caressed her back. "Tell me what makes you so fearful. Is it me?"
She shook her head against his chest. While misplaced, she'd witnessed his fury. It was worse than any fit Luciano had ever thrown. Still, Taveon had not struck her.
He set her back and kissed her eyelids, then eased the tablet out of her rigid fingers. He closed his eyes and pulled her hand toward his face. "Trust me with something, Viviana."
She touched his smooth cheek, forming an image of his face beneath her fingertips. Oh, what she would give to possess his strength, his courage.
"Please, let me back in."
"I cannot." Tears burned her eyes. She blinked and felt the cool stream over her cheeks. "I've never talked about it with anyone. It is forbidden in Firenze."
"We are no longer in Firenze," he whispered against her palm. "Tell me."
The memories were there. They were always there, and she wanted nothing more than to be free of them. Suddenly the words slipped from her mouth, unheeded. "It happened a long time ago." She turned in his arms toward the open window, pulling his hand around her waist. His other hand followed suit, circling her inside a protective wall. His eyes opened and gifted her with the image of a cloudless sky. A pale blue, much like the last sky she'd ever seen.
"It was the end of Eastertide, the week before the Feast of the Ascension. The bells rang out from Giotto's bell tower, calling the citizens of Firenze to celebrate High Mass at Santa Reparata. I was thirteen summers and eager to see the newest cardinal as were all the courtiers." Viviana let out a small laugh and stroked Taveon's hand with the pad of her thumb. "I was so naïve to believe the visiting priests were there to spread God's word." She remembered the smell of myrrh and the colored lights filtering in through the stained glass speckling the attendance in rainbows.
"Cardinal Riario sat at the High Altar cloaked in robes of scarlet. Members of the Pazzi family, long-time enemies of the Medici, were in attendance as were Messer Lorenzo and his younger brother, Giuliano. It was quite an event as the two brothers were rarely seen together in public."
"An effort to protect themselves from assassination?" Taveon guessed.
Viviana nodded and pictured Lorenzo and his brother at the head of the church—both dark haired with sharp features, garbed in gold finery and surrounded unknowingly by their enemies.
Taveon squeezed her hand. "Go on."
"Fioretta and I were only a dozen pews behind the honored Medici family as my sister had gained us a position within the regime."
"Because Fioretta was married to Lorenzo's brother?"
Shame warmed her face. "No. They were not wed. Not long after Sister De Rosa left
Spedale degli Innocenti
, a Benedictine monk collected us from the orphanage and delivered us to Lorenzo's estates in Cafaggiolo. We were servants to the Medici and Fioretta was no more than Giuliani's whore."
Taveon tensed at her use of the word. The same word he'd called her. The same word all of Firenze had called Fioretta when she became round with Giuliani's child.
"What happened?"
A tinkling bell chimed in Viviana's head. The hair at her nape stood on end. "The mass proceeded as usual until Cardinal Riario lifted the Host beneath the stone arches. As the crowd grew reverent, the assassins drew their blades. Two members of the Pazzi attacked Giuliani while two of God's chosen men attacked Lorenzo."
"Priests?"
Viviana nodded and bowed her head. She could hear the women screaming, the children crying. She cupped her ears as the scene unraveled in her mind's eye with as much clarity as it had eight years past. Blood painted the High Altar in droplets of crimson as the assassin plunged his blade into Giuliani's chest.
She jerked and turned in Taveon's arms.
"Shh." He kissed the crown of her head, consoling her.
"They killed him. They stabbed Lorenzo's brother over and over even after he'd fallen to the floor. Nineteen times. Nineteen times." She shook, wanting him to save her from her memory.
"But Lorenzo survived."
"He was able to fight off his assailants and get to safety, by then the Duomo had erupted into chaos. Some fool even announced that the dome was collapsing. I couldn't move. I was paralyzed, staring at Giuliani's body, covered in a mass of wounds and blood. In the rush, I was pushed to the floor and separated from Fioretta as she was whisked away in the crowd."
Hide, Vivi, hide!
Tears poured from Viviana's eyes and soaked Taveon's tunic.
"'Tis over, Venus."
But it wasn't over. It would never be over. She hiccupped, and drew a shaky breath. "I should have hidden. I should have listened to Fioretta and mayhap he wouldn't have found me."
"Finish and we will never speak of it again."
Viviana pressed her forehead into his breastbone, wishing if she told the tale it would all go away and never haunt her again. "Santa Reparata fell silent, save for Cardinal Riario's weeping at the High Altar. I crawled beneath the pew and poked my head into the isle in time to see the assassin rushing toward me. He grabbed me and used me as a means to escape the only two canons guarding the entrance."
I'll kill her.
The man had threatened and held her off the floor, his lethal fingers digging into her neck, choking her.
Viviana clutched Taveon's doublet with the same grip she'd held on the bastard who'd dragged her out of the Duomo by her throat. "The assassin threw me to the ground when I no longer served a purpose."
"Oh, sweetling." Taveon crushed her to his chest where his heart pounded against her ear.
"No one came back for me," she cried, wanting to deny the feelings that made her so vulnerable. Never had she spoken about the event to anyone. For eight years she'd kept her grief buried deep inside her. While a country lost one of its great leaders that day, she, too, had suffered loss, but there had been no one to comfort her until now. Cold seeped through her and uncontrollable tremors took hold of her body.
Taveon bore her weight when her legs no longer would. As if she stood in a summer rainstorm, hot tears flooded her cheeks. She wept against his chest for what seemed like an eternity, spending tears she'd been deprived of far too long.
"Shhh...'tis over," he cooed, soothing the helpless child that had been left on the steps of Santa Reparata. He stroked her back and circled the ridges of her spine until her sobs dwindled to a snivel and a hiccup. "Had ye been my kin, I would have gone back for ye."
His protectiveness washed through her like a welcome burst of warmth, but the disapproval in his tone needed to be addressed. While he did not say it, she knew he thought ill of Fioretta for leaving her. "My sister witnessed the brutal assassination of her child's father. The shock of it all sent her into her labors."
Taveon stiffened.
"She struggled with the rigors of childbearing for days before Giulio was born."
"Your nephew was a bastard?"
Viviana nodded, embarrassed by her position in society. "Devastated by the loss of his brother, Lorenzo had Fioretta sign an illegal marriage document to legitimize Giulio's birth. She gained Lorenzo's promise to watch over Giulio and me before..." Viviana shivered, unable to finish.
"Before she died," Taveon supplied for her, the harshness in his tone was laced with superstition. "How old was she?"
"Fifteen."
"'Tis the curse. It stole your sister from ye."
Viviana stepped back and shook her head. "No." She was hard pressed to believe a stone that had provided her with such wonder played any part in Fioretta's death. "The assassins stole her from me, the same as they stole my eyes."
"What do ye mean?" He looked down at her. Black lashes, spiked with tears, lay against her cheek.
"I awoke some days after the assassination in a darkness that became my life. Lorenzo's physicians argued whether it had been the shock or the fall that blinded me. Regardless of the cause, their wisdom and famed techniques for healing failed to return light to my eyes... until Angelo."
"And me." Taveon brushed the tears from her cheeks, then brought her fingers to his lips. He looked out the window, skimming over a row of buildings lining the busy street, before he studied a sky dotted with black and white birds. "I'm your light now."
"Until we reach Scotland and the power of the amulet is used for a greater purpose. You cannot know what it is like to live in constant darkness."
Taveon's heated exhale feathered over her face. He slumped and held quiet for long moments. "Let me be your eyes until we know what is to come. Do not let your stubbornness rob you of a gift only I can give ye."
Viviana pressed the amulet against her skin. Only a fool would refuse his offer. She was exhausted with her own rebellion and wanted nothing more than to trust Taveon with her heart.
She nodded and felt his excitement in his hurried movements.
He scooped up her tablet and the single satchel she kept with her then led her to the door. "Come, m'lady. Wait til ye see our ship."
"Ship?" Viviana dug her boot heels into the wooden slates, halting his footing. "What do you mean,
our ship
? Where are we?"
"We are at the coast. I've spent the morn loading provisions with the rest of the crew. 'Tis why I was not here at dawn to collect ye. Your days astride have come to an end."
The man was completely witless. Viviana had seen maps of the continent as a child. "M'laird, have you forgotten about the bit of land between France and Scotland?"
"Ouish, woman! If ye think I will step one foot on English soil, then ye dinnae know me at all." He popped a quick kiss on her nose.
"Then we are to sail?" She swallowed a new bout of anxiety. "On a ship? Surrounded by water?" Why did she suddenly feel ill?
With the sweep of Taveon's strong arm, Viviana found herself flushed up against his chest. "Fear not, m'lady. I will never abandon ye. I give ye my word as your husband and as a mon of honor."
Before she could respond, his lips were on hers, sealing his promise with a gentle kiss. The first kiss they'd shared since Chillion Castle. A kiss that ended far too quickly.
"Come. I've so much to show ye."
Chapter 19
"Get those barrels of oil below deck, grommet." The second in command issued the order to a gangly boy from the quarterdeck of a two-masted galleon.
"Right-o." The grommet spun on his heel and nearly knocked Viviana over in his haste. "Pardon, miss," he offered then blew passed her.
Viviana's grip on Taveon's hand tightened as the crew bustled all around them preparing to set sail. Miocchi presence didn't seem to ease her angst as the beastie appeared as nervous as a lone hare amidst a pack of wolves. His paws danced atop the teakwood planks while his tail beat a furious tune against her pale yellow skirt.
"It is a busy vessel." Viviana hooked her other hand around Taveon's forearm where his sleeve rolled at the elbow.
"Aye. 'Twill settle once we raise anchor." His gaze flitted over the ropes bound to the rails of the ship. He tried to study his surroundings knowing it would calm her, but found the only thing he wanted to look at was her.