Page 98 of Thus with a Kiss I Die
“Never.” Elder was insulted and emphatic. “I would never have disgraced Barnadine or his family.”
Barnadine eased forward again. “You already suffer melancholy and madness. Why not make this easy for me and fling yourself off the tower?”
Elder watched his former bodyguard, dazed, disheartened, disbelieving. “Dishonoring Barnadine’s sister would have been an abuse of princely power, and for such action, I stood to lose all. For to so shame the man who guarded my back would be foolish.”
Elder’s reasoning was so eminently logical, he gave me pause. I faced Barnadine head-on. “Elder says he didn’t do it. Who’s your sister?”
Barnadine stopped, and his features twisted in anguish. “She’s dead to the world.”
“Whowasyour sister?” One must be patient with men’s need to never speak of painful events. One must be ready to draw out the story in excruciatingly slow increments.
“The fair Helena, the youngest flower of our family, born almost as an afterthought to my parents’ love. She was a blessing, so pretty, so modest, so happy, the maiden who lifted our hearts. I was the oldest, one of two sons, one who would fight as my father had for the house of Leonardi. From Helena’s earliest days, I listened and approved as my parents spoke of her destiny. Her purity shone from her like a golden light, and she would take her vows as a bride of Christ.” Barnadine’s voice grew hoarse with emotion. “Always we knew that. Always.”
“Ringing any bells?” I asked Elder.
“No Helenas I recall. No golden light of purity on any—” He stopped speaking so suddenly, I knew he’d remembered . . . something.
Barnadine continued his recollections. “Before Helena entered the convent, she begged for one taste of life.”
I watched Elder’s revealing expression. “Life?”
“Nothing dishonorable!” Barnadine put his hand over his heart as if to contain its ache. “A party, a whirl of gaiety among the ladies and gentlemen of Verona.”
We were getting close to the crux of the matter. “Where did you take her?”
“That day, we celebrated the festival of St. Peter of Verona. In the morning, the people prayed. I prayed. Helena prayed. My family prayed. In the night, revelry filled the streets. All of Verona donned masks to laugh, drink . . . fornicate.”
Elder stumbled backward as if to collapse against the wall. Instead he vanished into it, which would have been funny except. . . this was in no way amusing. This was a living tragedy of brother and sister, husband and wife, illicit love, death and murder, past and present, over and over.
Now Elder knew the truth. Now, when it was too late.
CHAPTER54
Iwatched for Elder’s return and in the meantime spoke to Barnadine. “A masquerade seems a poor choice. People cover their faces to hide their deeds.”
“I know that.” Savagely Barnadine turned on me. “Do you think I didn’t know that then?”
I could well follow the younger Barnadine’s rationale. “But how else could you hide her pure countenance from the prying eyes?”
“You comprehend.”
“I do. The podestà roamed the streets that night?”
“Of course. The prince of Verona, Escalus the elder—only he was not old.”
“He was in the prime of life—and because of you, he’ll never grow old.”
“I did what I had to do.” His gaze and voice were steady. “As I’ll so continue.”
Direct his attention back to the story, Rosie. Don’t remind him he lured you up here to your death.“Did fair Helena know who he was?” I asked.
“Of course. He was the podestà. I had failed to realize that as he walked the streets of Verona, speaking to the people, she’d watched him from afar. She listened as I spoke of him. I was proud to be his bodyguard, I praised him in glowing terms: his honor, his prowess with a blade, his sadness that his wife couldn’t bear another child.” Barnadine spoke with contempt. But contempt for whom? Elder or himself?
“You admired him, so she admired him.”
“I painted him in all the glowing colors of integrity and valor.”
This was tragedy, indeed. For Helena. For Elder. Most of all for Barnadine, who had given in to his sister’s pleading and would forever face the truth—his indulgence had created heartbreak for his sister, his family, and even for the vulnerable and unknowing Elder.
