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shall remain a maidservant the rest of your life.”
Abruptly, I pulled from his grasp and turned toward
him. “And if I choose you,” I asked, searching his face for
some sign of what lay behind his words, “what part do I
play in these plans of yours?”
“Your role will be quite simple. All you need do is make
certain she is able to meet me in the tower as planned. . .
and you must be there, as well, to secretly watch all that
happens between us.”
My expression must have betrayed my surprise and dis­
may at such a request, for he softly laughed.
“My dear Delfina, do not look so shocked,” he replied,
though I heard the hard edge beneath the humor and knew
this was no jest. “Believe me that I am not asking this of you
simply for my own twisted amusement. I will need a wit­
ness to what occurred, or my plan will come to naught.”
“So you intend to blackmail the contessa?” I asked as un­
derstanding dawned. Then I shook my head. “But I still
don’t understand. It is well-known that many ladies of the
court take their pleasure with men other than their hus­
bands. Why would she care that you threaten to reveal such
a thing? How could such a story truly hurt her?”
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Diane A. S. Stuckart
“Let us just say that there is more between me and the con­
tessa than you—or even Caterina—know about,” he replied
with a small shrug. “But I can assure you that once she is
aware of what I could reveal, she will pay any price for my
silence.”
The sound of more pounding upon the door abruptly
forestalled further conversation. “Begging your pardon, Cap­
tain,” came a hesitant voice through the door again, “but the
men are mounted and ready.”
“I am on my way,” he called back and strode over to the
far wall.
Pulling a few pieces from the collection there, he swiftly
buckled on a shiny silver breastplate and two swords: one
a long ceremonial blade, and the other a short sword as the
nobles customarily carried about the town. Finally, he fas­
tened on a knee-length black cloak and grabbed up a sleek
silver helmet with a short crest of black feathers and a pair
of silver gauntlets. Tucking gloves and helmet beneath one
arm, he made his way back to me.
“Time grows short. I must have your answer now, Del­
fina. Will your loyalties lie with me or with the contessa?”
I had used the few moments as he finished dressing to
frantically consider my options. If I did not agree to join
him, then the Master and I would lose this final chance to
perhaps learn the truth behind Bellanca and Lidia’s deaths . . .
assuming that they even had any connection to what Grego­
rio now proposed. But if I took Gregorio’s side, I might
learn all this, and more. It might come too late to save the
contessa from his scheme, but at least the Master would be
involved and would surely know what to do.
And, thus, my decision was simple.
“My loyalties are with you, Gregorio,” I softly declared,
earning a cool smile of approval from him.
Lightly, he stroked a warm hand down my cheek and
nodded. “I hoped you would make that choice,” he said. “I
have found myself quite taken with you and would regret if
Portrait of a Lady
249
we had to part ways. It is not often one finds a woman who
is beautiful and clever as well as loyal.”
I blushed a little at that last, though the compliment was
blunted by his next words, as he softly added, “But keep in
mind, my dear Delfina, that you have made your choice.
Should you change your mind afterward and think to betray
me, know that you would suffer the consequences, as surely
as will I.”
“I won’t change my mind. My loyalty is to you,” I de­
clared again, steadily meeting his dark gaze.
He nodded and leaned forward to brush his lips against
mine. “Then remember, the east tower tonight, at half past
ten. And now, I must be off to bring Caterina her bride­
groom.”
He pulled open the door again and gestured me to pre­
cede him. Just inside the gate, the other soldiers were assem­
bled on horseback. With their colorful garb and their horses’
bright blankets, along with their multihued flags carried on
tall staffs, they made a most dramatic sight. Surely the Duke
of Pontalba could not help but be impressed!
I remained in the alcove’s shadow while Gregorio strode
toward the soldier who held the reins of the same black stal­
lion we’d ridden from the cathedral. By now, he had pulled
on his helmet and gauntlets, looking every inch the warrior
as he lightly mounted his steed and whirled the beast about.
Despite myself, I could not help a small sigh at the hand­
some figure he cut and wondered if it had been that dashing
image alone that had earned him his post.
In unison, the other soldiers pulled about their horses, as
well, and the contingent smartly trotted toward the open
gate. I watched them go, somewhat disappointed when the
only backward glance for me came not from Gregorio, but
from the familiar loutish mercenary. His blond mustaches
twitched with the gap-toothed leer he sent me over his
shoulder, and I suppressed a grimace. Once I was officially
the captain of the guard’s woman, I told myself in some
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Diane A. S. Stuckart
pique, the first thing I would do was request that Gregorio
demote the man. . . that, or send him out for a beating.
Then I gave myself a mental shake, reminding myself that
this was but a role I was playing. Once this business was over
with, Delfina would surely vanish again, and Dino take her
place. What would happen with Gregorio, I dared not guess.
And I shouldn’t care, I stoutly told myself. Despite his
handsome and dashing façade, had he not shown himself to
be but a mercenary, himself, coolly clever and prepared to
do anything or use anyone who could advance his personal
cause? I would be a fool to believe that he truly cared for
me, no matter the seductive kisses and sweet words he be­
stowed upon me.
And it was only when the gate had closed after the men
that it occurred to me to wonder what he would have done
had I not agreed to his plan.
The thought nagged uncomfortably at me as I made my
way across the quadrangle. Perhaps that was what had hap­
pened with Bellanca, I found myself speculating with no lit­
tle alarm. Perhaps she had agreed to a similar plot and then
changed her mind. And then, rather than handling the mat­
ter, himself, Gregorio had charged Lidia with making sure
that Bellanca would not betray him to the contessa.
My steps slowed, even as my thoughts raced. Or perhaps
Lidia had taken it upon herself to deal with Bellanca, and
Gregorio had learned of her actions only after the fact. Re­
calling his chill presence at Bellanca’s burial, and Lidia’s [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]