around her. “Now just you stand in front of the fire to keep warm. You’ve had a shock tonight.”
Yes, she had. Now she was in the power of a man who had threatened her at every turn. She was trapped in his power by her circumstances. She cast a glance over to where her reticule, lumpy with its precious burdens of the stone that would save her and her tarot cards, sat upon the dresser. The stone was useless to her without him. Who else would pay her for it, when it drove men mad? She looked around, feeling trapped.
Sophia must have seen her look. “Now, now, child, the master will take care of you. You needn’t worry. He is the kindest, most generous man. I know he seems arrogant. But put your trust in him. He will not fail you.”
Kate was about to protest that he was the last man she would ever trust, when Sophia put a finger to Kate’s lips. “I know what you are thinking, that he is taking you in a carriage all alone, but you need not fear for your virtue. He is a gentleman of honor.”
Kate could not help be feel bewildered. His servants’ high opinion of the man seemed senseless in view of what they must know about his source of income. Paolo had been positively anxious for his welfare, and this woman doted on him. Perhaps they didn’t know him well. “How long have you been with him?”
“Twenty years and more.” Sophia smiled, slipping the night rail over her head. “Now, you just tuck into bed here for a few hours.” Sophia held back the richly embroidered linens and Kate crawled up into a bed layered with feather comforters. “I’ll come to wake and dress you. Don’t worry your head about packing.” Sophia scooped up her burned dress, and turned down the lamps before she let herself out the door.
Well, that finished Kate’s chance to escape for the moment. She couldn’t go out in a night rail. She had very little money. She was so confused she didn’t know if she should escape or be carried along by Urbano’s plans. Which was the lesser of two evils? In Rome, a woman wanted to kill her for the stone. If she could keep the stone from Urbano, get it cut … perhaps his mother would even be her ally. A mother must know what he was. Her thoughts were becoming muddled. Jealousy that he knew his mother and felt he could depend on her wafted through Kate. Oh, well. She’d puzzle it out after she closed her eyes for just a moment …
* * *
“’Ey! You there!”
Kate looked up from a garbage heap not so different from the one where she had awakened three nights ago. She wiped her mouth, ready to dart away. Too bad. This had been a good one. She stuffed the gristle left from someone’s beefsteak into the pocket of her dirty pinafore and scrambled out of the moonlight.
“No, wait!”
She crouched behind the barrel set to catch rainwater by the tavern owner. The figure that accosted her was much smaller than those who had chased her off in the last days, its voice higher. It came into the moonlight now, approaching slowly. A boy. A ragged boy.
“I won’t ’urt ye,” he said, holding out a hand.
Kate said nothing. She knew she should try to make it down the alleyway. She had bruises over her back and shoulders for tarrying once too long. But this was the first child she had seen. Well, he was bigger and older than she was. But he wasn’t a grown-up.
“Ye’re ’ungry, ain’t ye?” He fished in his pocket. “D’ye like a bit o’ sweet?”
He held out a misshapen and half-melted lump. “A little ’ore’ound?”
She shook her head, though she could smell the sugar of it from the shadows where she lurked quite clearly. It made her mouth water.
“I bet ye’d like some mutton and gravy and roasted nips,” the boy went on, approaching.
Nothing had ever sounded so good. Kate’s stomach rumbled. The rain began again. Just when she’d been drying out.
“I knows a place where a nimble little one like ye, if ye’re quick ta learn and eager ta please, could get a
Yes, she had. Now she was in the power of a man who had threatened her at every turn. She was trapped in his power by her circumstances. She cast a glance over to where her reticule, lumpy with its precious burdens of the stone that would save her and her tarot cards, sat upon the dresser. The stone was useless to her without him. Who else would pay her for it, when it drove men mad? She looked around, feeling trapped.
Sophia must have seen her look. “Now, now, child, the master will take care of you. You needn’t worry. He is the kindest, most generous man. I know he seems arrogant. But put your trust in him. He will not fail you.”
Kate was about to protest that he was the last man she would ever trust, when Sophia put a finger to Kate’s lips. “I know what you are thinking, that he is taking you in a carriage all alone, but you need not fear for your virtue. He is a gentleman of honor.”
Kate could not help be feel bewildered. His servants’ high opinion of the man seemed senseless in view of what they must know about his source of income. Paolo had been positively anxious for his welfare, and this woman doted on him. Perhaps they didn’t know him well. “How long have you been with him?”
“Twenty years and more.” Sophia smiled, slipping the night rail over her head. “Now, you just tuck into bed here for a few hours.” Sophia held back the richly embroidered linens and Kate crawled up into a bed layered with feather comforters. “I’ll come to wake and dress you. Don’t worry your head about packing.” Sophia scooped up her burned dress, and turned down the lamps before she let herself out the door.
Well, that finished Kate’s chance to escape for the moment. She couldn’t go out in a night rail. She had very little money. She was so confused she didn’t know if she should escape or be carried along by Urbano’s plans. Which was the lesser of two evils? In Rome, a woman wanted to kill her for the stone. If she could keep the stone from Urbano, get it cut … perhaps his mother would even be her ally. A mother must know what he was. Her thoughts were becoming muddled. Jealousy that he knew his mother and felt he could depend on her wafted through Kate. Oh, well. She’d puzzle it out after she closed her eyes for just a moment …
* * *
“’Ey! You there!”
Kate looked up from a garbage heap not so different from the one where she had awakened three nights ago. She wiped her mouth, ready to dart away. Too bad. This had been a good one. She stuffed the gristle left from someone’s beefsteak into the pocket of her dirty pinafore and scrambled out of the moonlight.
“No, wait!”
She crouched behind the barrel set to catch rainwater by the tavern owner. The figure that accosted her was much smaller than those who had chased her off in the last days, its voice higher. It came into the moonlight now, approaching slowly. A boy. A ragged boy.
“I won’t ’urt ye,” he said, holding out a hand.
Kate said nothing. She knew she should try to make it down the alleyway. She had bruises over her back and shoulders for tarrying once too long. But this was the first child she had seen. Well, he was bigger and older than she was. But he wasn’t a grown-up.
“Ye’re ’ungry, ain’t ye?” He fished in his pocket. “D’ye like a bit o’ sweet?”
He held out a misshapen and half-melted lump. “A little ’ore’ound?”
She shook her head, though she could smell the sugar of it from the shadows where she lurked quite clearly. It made her mouth water.
“I bet ye’d like some mutton and gravy and roasted nips,” the boy went on, approaching.
Nothing had ever sounded so good. Kate’s stomach rumbled. The rain began again. Just when she’d been drying out.
“I knows a place where a nimble little one like ye, if ye’re quick ta learn and eager ta please, could get a
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