Carpathian 00 - The Scarletti Curse

and says…" She trailed off, suddenly thoughtful.
    Maria Pia poured water into a bowl from the pitcher on the washstand and carried it to Nicoletta. It was lukewarm from being next to the hearth. "This house is a monument to many gods," the older woman observed. "At some time at least the Scarlettis must have paid tribute to the Holy Church, though the house does not seem to support such offerings." She devoutly crossed herself to ward off evil as she knelt to examine Nicoletta's feet.
    "I will tend my cuts," Nicoletta protested, ashamed to have Maria Pia at her feet.
    "Let me do it, Nicoletta," Maria Pia said, dabbing at the lacerations to get a better look. "Your leg is a little swollen again. You have overused it. You must be more careful."
    Nicoletta took a deep breath. "When Don Scarletti touches me, I feel funny inside," she announced abruptly.

    Generated by ABC Amber LIT Conv erter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html
    Maria Pia nearly dropped the bowl of water. "He touched you? What do you mean he touched you?
    How did he touch you?" The older woman was outraged. "Touching you! A young girl like you! You should not have been alone with him. Nicoletta, you must show better sense," she scolded, clucking her tongue softly in agitation.
    In spite of herself, Nicoletta began to smile. "If I marry Don Scarletti, Maria Pia, I expect there will be many times when I am alone with him."
    Maria Pia glared at her. "That is different, and well you know it, young lady. This is no laughing matter.
    Men can take advantage of young girls."
    "That is what I am asking you about," Nicoletta replied, wide-eyed. "What is that like? Why is it different when he touches me? I do not feel the same way around Cristano or any other male." She certainly knew the mechanics of mating; she had grown up around farm animals and had attended more than one girl who had been badly used. But she didn't know what was expected of her, and no one seemed willing to tell her.
    Maria Pia worked steadfastly on Nicoletta's cuts, refusing to look up. "I am not a married woman, Nicoletta. I do not know about these things other than that you do as your husband wishes. He will direct you in such matters."
    "What if I hate it?" Nicoletta persisted. "What if it is horrible?"
    "It is horrible if a man touches you when he should not," Maria Pia grumbled, "but when it is your husband, it is not bad and must be tolerated."
    Nicoletta mulled that over. "How can that be, if it is the same act?" she asked, curious, her hand moving to her throat where the warmth of Don Scarletti's fingers still lingered. She touched her earlobe, stroking a small caress where his teeth had nipped her. The strange sensations were not only memories in her mind but in her body as well. She could feel the rush of heat moving through her, an aching need she didn't understand.
    "Nicoletta!" Maria Pia threw the rag into the bowl hard enough that water splashed in every direction.
    "That is enough! We will talk no more of this. This heathen place has confused your good sense. Such things are best left between a husband and his wife."
    Nicoletta raised a small black eyebrow at her but refrained from speaking. Maria Pia certainly hadn't answered any of her questions, and she wasn't about to ask the don. The mere thought of that made her blush. When they married, he would have certain rights over her. He was a large man; she was small. Did that make a difference? No one would tell her. She sighed aloud. "He was not nearly as angry as I thought he would be."
    "You took a terrible chance, Nicoletta. He could have ruined you or worse."
    "As I do not much care to be married to anyone, being 'ruined' does not worry me."
    Maria Pia squawked her outrage, the noise much like that of a chicken. She soundly slapped Nicoletta's knee, so shocked that for a moment she couldn't speak. "That is enough. You go to bed, and do not speak such scandalous words again! I will not hear such talk!"

    Generated by ABC Amber LIT Conv erter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html
    Nicoletta suppressed a sudden desire to laugh, afraid it might sound a trifle hysterical. She was on the verge of hysteria anyway. The entire day seemed a nightmare. Somewhere deep inside her, Nicoletta had known from the moment Don Giovanni Scarletti emerged from the shadows of Sophie's sickroom that her life was entangled with his.
    Slowly, with infinite weariness, she prepared for bed. She was aching and sore, her calf tender from the