Carpathian 00 - The Scarletti Curse

once," Maria Pia announced, deliberately walking to the door.
    Don Scarletti looked totally unrepentant. He arose with his usual fluid grace, reached casually for his shirt, and gave both women a slight bow before strolling out. Maria Pia closed the door firmly after him and turned the key in the lock.
    Nicoletta and Maria Pia stared at one another across the room. Nicoletta's eyes filled with tears all over again. At once the older woman went to her, holding her close. "I am sorry I was not there," Maria Pia whispered. "Do not cry aloud, bambino. The don will break down the door if he hears you. That man is a law unto himself." She patted Nicoletta, moving her toward the steaming tub. "You must get in before the water cools," she added.
    Nicoletta allowed the coverlet to drop to the floor, tossed her skirt aside, and stepped into the hot water. It seemed scalding against the icy coldness of her skin, but she sank gratefully into the tub. It seemed a sinful luxury to bathe this way, in an elegant bedchamber with others carrying the water to her.
    She ducked her head under the water so that her hair floated like sea help.
    Maria Pia waited until Nicoletta had come back up, the water running off her face along with her tears.
    "Don Scarletti banished Aljandro, stripped him of his farm. He told him to leave his lands or the soldiers would hunt him down. Laurena took the babe to raise. The don would not give Aljandro Lissandra's bambino."
    Nicoletta shivered violently. "Aljandro killed Lissandra," she said in a low voice. "He knew she was supposed to stay in bed, that she could bleed to death, but it did not matter to him. He would not pick up the babe while Laurena went home to attend her famiglia. It was too much trouble for him. He dragged Lissandra out of bed and beat her because she was too weak to attend the bambino." She pushed back her hair, looking at Maria Pia with anguish in her eyes.
    "I am sorry, bambina," Maria Pia murmured again, her hands soothing as she cleansed Nicoletta's blue-black hair.

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    "He hated me so much, he left her to die. He would not let them call me. He walked out and left her lying on the floor all alone. He just left her."
    "Laurena told me," the older woman admitted. "She found her and sent Ricardo for you. Aljandro tried to stop him and even struck the boy, but he was able to get away and come here. Nicoletta, you could not possibly have saved her. It was already too late when Laurena found her. You know that," she said gently.
    "She was so afraid. I just sat there, offering her nothing. I simply sat with her and watched her die."
    Nicoletta swept a hand across her forehead, pain beating there so fiercely that she could barely breathe.
    Cara mia, I shall have to come to you and hold you until this sorrow lessens. Breathe for me, piccola, that I may breathe also.
    The words stirred in her mind, gentle and warm, a comforting presence. Nicoletta rested her head against the back of the tub and closed her eyes tiredly. Giovanni Scarletti. He was like no man she had ever met. He seemed to have no regard for convention. He could do things Maria Pia would name unholy. How could he send his words to her in his mind? She had been afraid to ask him, afraid of learning the truth.
    What if he was a devil-worshiper? A sorcerer? What if he was capable of black magic? Nicoletta was drawn to him as she had never been to another human being. Dark, ugly tales were whispered of him.
    Was he capable of heading up a secret society of assassins, as was rumored? Certainly he had enough visitors throughout the day, meeting them alone in his study with no one permitted near. She knew he was capable of killing. He had many times gone with his army to defeat hordes of invaders. She had seen him take the life of his own cousin. Was he capable of throwing a woman off the castle tower? Had he perhaps even murdered her mother?
    Nicoletta shook her head decisively. She didn't believe it, not for one moment. She didn't fool herself into thinking Giovanni was a gentle man. He was capable of many things, but not of outright murder. And certainly not the murder of a woman or child. He could be ruthless, unconventional, and merciless—for all she knew, he might very well be in league with the devil—but he would not kill a woman.
    She touched her mouth, her throat. He could be incredibly appealing. He made her feel as if she were special. As if