Page 48 of Thus with a Kiss I Die
“I pray that the Virgin Mother watches over you as you undertake your duties this night.” I curtsied and backed inside, my gaze held captive by his, and when Tommaso would have shut the door behind me—call me Nosy Rosie if you want—I caught it and held it open a crack.
Cal spoke to the bearers. “Take the chairs back to the palace. Holofernes, Dion, and I will take the outrunners and escort thedisciplinatito their rightful route through the city.”
I was right. Softly I shut the door.
Katherina, Imogene, and Papà waited, holding candles. “Is he still yours?” Papà asked.
I looked at my open palm, flexed my fingers, and nodded.
Katherina and Imogene, breathing identical sighs of relief, went up to bed.
“But, Papà,” I said, “he goes to confront thedisciplinati.”
“I’ll suggest to your mamma that she rest, plan your wedding, and joyously carry our baby. After that, I’ll join our new son-by-betrothal, for he may have use for an extra blade.” Papà ran up the stairs in a spritely step.
I stood, thinking, working my way around recent events. Although I’d become betrothed, seen a ghost, and participated in a séance, none of that impressed me so much as the hellfire in the flagellant’s eyes . . . and tonight the prince would seek him. Them. Prince Escalus and his men would run toward danger, armed merely with swords, and I feared for them.
Was the flagellant a demon?
No, worse. He was a man. One glance could sum up a man if that man sent a message of all-encompassing hatred. Of what, though? Wealth? Power? Or, more likely, of a woman, any woman regardless of her place in life, for a woman was a cause of man’s expulsion from Eden and forever she tempted men to sin.
As a sensible woman with a family who depended on me and a betrothed who led the city, I knew I needed to protect myself in a responsible way, or I would find myself confined or surrounded by bodyguards better used to shield others . . . or taken by men such as I’d seen this night and, at best, held for ransom. Or worse. The latter didn’t bear thinking of.
I called, “Tommaso.”
Our young footman appeared at once. He hadn’t been far away.
“Yes, Lady Rosaline?”
“Do you know how to fight?”
“Yes, Lady Rosaline. Not like a lord or like you, my lady, with a sword. I grew up fighting with the street pigs for a scrap of food. Your mother found me and brought me here, but I remember well how to battle with fists and desperation and a blade honed from bare bone.”
“I hoped that would be your answer.” I pinned my gaze on him. “In the future, when I travel the streets of Verona, you’ll come with me.”
“Yes, my lady. Thank you, my lady.” He bowed as if I’d given him an honor.
Papà bounded down the stairs, sword buckled, thrusting a stiletto up his sleeve and smiling gleefully. “Nurse is caring for my beloved Juliet, so I’ll be off to join the prince and bring peace to the streets of Verona.” He pressed a kiss on my forehead, Tommaso opened the door for him, and he ran into the street. Really, the man was happiest fighting and . . .
But with Mamma so far gone with child, he was confined to fighting.
To Tommaso, I said, “In becoming the betrothed of the podestà, I have, perhaps, become a target for”—I hesitated—“rogues, villains, and desperate men.”
“Your lady mother saved me from such men, and I’ve waited long to repay the debt to her. I am your faithful servant and soldier, and I swear I’d die before I allow harm to befall a daughter of the house of Montague.” Such a dramatic declaration spoken in a prosaic tone.
Then, “Who’ll be footman? Who will assist Lord Romeo? Who’ll help him when required to care for Cesario?” He asked me because Mamma, as a household manager, would have made a good grape-stomper. -
Thus I ran Casa Montague, and I pondered his question with the care it deserved. “In the morning, send me Teodor.” Because Tommaso had proved to be agiocatoreof astute judgment, I asked, “Do you agree with my choice?”
Tommaso gave the question the consideration it deserved. “He’s young, raw, and uncertain, but he learns quickly, and when I’m not out with you or my lord Romeo, I’ll train him. Also he’s handsome, which allows forgiveness when there is none for the less fortunate.” Although he no doubt spoke from experience, for smallpox had brutally pitted his skin, he didn’t sound bitter. He had that which compensated for all distortions: a nimble mind and a strong muscularity.
“Send him to me, but wait until the morning is advanced, for I wish to sleep.” And worry, for Cal and Papà were out bringing order to Verona, and although I wished it otherwise, the memory of the flagellant’s hate-flamed eyes made me think of demons abroad in the street. I climbed wearily to my room.
My desire for a long sleep was not to be fulfilled, for dawn had not yet cast its gray net when a candle flame thrust into my face made me flinch away and the shadowy figure of Nurse shook me awake. “A sedan chair arrived from the palace. You must go at once. The dowager princess was attacked and lies bloody, unconscious, and barely breathing. Friar Laurence is at her side, and he begs that you go to his shop, compound the healing poultice he taught you, and bring it to him, for you alone can create his formula.”
CHAPTER27
Nurse dressed me in my plainest garb, strapped on my three knives, and followed me as I slipped into my parents’ bedchamber to wake Mamma. No need. She sat in a chair, surrounded by glowing candles, brow puckered as she hemmed a baby blanket. She put it down at once and stretched out her arms to me. “Nurse told me.” Her gaze flicked into the shadows where Nurse hovered, silent and discreet for once.
