Carpathian 00 - The Scarletti Curse

see to his safety, and only you will enter his room to attend him."
    "How did you get the scratch on your chest last night?" She asked abruptly, trying to keep her voice even and her mind blank, as if his answer was not of great importance to her. But he urged his mount into a thick stand of trees, brought it to a halt, and dismounted with her.
    They were back within familiar territory, not far from Nicoletta's herb garden. She stretched, raising her arms above her head to the night sky. The sea breeze was cool and crisp, swirling wisps of white fog around her skirt so that she seemed to rise up like a siren from the clouds.
    Giovanni sighed softly. "You told me you believed my own cousin had entered into a conspiracy against me. I know my life is in danger. Four times recently there have been attempts against me. Damian on the beach, the poisoned soup, once when I was out hunting with Antonello, and our wedding night.
    Nicoletta stared at him, her eyes enormous in the silvery moonlight. "How long ago was your hunting trip with Antonello?" She could read the sincerity in his voice, his eyes. He hadn't gone to another woman on their wedding night, abused and mistreated her. Nicoletta had been certain he hadn't, but it was still comforting to hear him confirm he had not been the one to harm Beatrice. The memory of Beatrice's Generated by ABC Amber LIT Conv erter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html
    wrist, the terrible bruising and burns, was suddenly vivid in her mind. And Margerita had the exact same circlet of bruises on her wrist. Nicoletta's breath caught in her throat. Both women had been with the same man. She bit down hard on her lip, trying to concentrate on what her husband was saying, holding the revelation to herself tightly.
    Giovanni shrugged. "Some months ago. The sudden assault was enough of a warning. I knew someone must have gotten wind of our plans. I immediately moved to protect our treasures and my famiglia."
    Nicoletta turned away from Giovanni, unwilling for him to read her oft-transparent expression. Antonello had been hunting with Giovanni. Yes, Antonello had been wounded, but that could have been an accident. Damian had been Antonello's best friend as well as cousin. Anyone in the palazzo, including Antonello, would know that Bernado always left soup warming for Giovanni. Antonello had been with the guards the previous night. And Antonello had come out of the maze the day Cristano vanished within it, his clothing bloodstained. He moved freely throughout the countryside, unlike Vincente, who would never willingly venture among the peasants in the villaggi.
    "What happened on our wedding night?" Nicoletta asked softly. Antonello had been in the hallway, calling her husband away from her.
    "It is necessary to silence those who choose to oppose us, those who would betray us and endanger our famiglie. I was asked to speak to two emissaries sent by an ally who was in need of aid. But the
    'visitors' were actually assassins sent to kill me. They did not succeed." He spoke softly, matter-of-factly.
    Then he moved up behind her, sheltering her from the wind with his body. "We need unity, and Austria has no real desire to rule this country; she has far too many other troubles. I believe we can strengthen our position and move our people into place to be ready to take advantage when the offer to align comes to pass. It is my belief that Austria will leave the ruling to the stronger famiglie. I see no way other than unification with her to protect my people."
    Very gently he circled her slender body with his arms and drew her back against his chest. "Have I told you how proud you make me? I know it was wrong of me to bring you into a dangerous world of intrigue, but I could not help myself. I did my best to stay away from you, but there you were, right in front of me, no longer haunting my dreams, no longer whispered reports from my men, but real flesh and blood and so beautiful I could not breathe when I looked at you."
    She tipped her head back, resting it against his broad shoulder, her dark eyes laughing up at him. "You were breathing. I recall my first meeting with you, signore, quite vividly. You were definitely breathing. As sick as you were, you were still the most powerful man I had ever met. And you looked at me…"
    "I had to look at you. I could not take my eyes off you," he admitted softly.
    She smiled as she stared out into the gathering darkness at the swaying trees with their silvery