Carpathian 00 - The Scarletti Curse

Margerita. He was very close to us, but he became ill and slowly wasted away. Portia never left his side, not for one moment. She nursed him herself, even fed him, but for all her care, she could not save him…" Vincente's voice trailed off.
    A chill seized Nicoletta, and she shivered violently. So much death in the palazzo. Why hadn't the village healer been called when a man was slowly wasting away? Her heart felt heavy, and she turned away from the Scarletti brothers. They both seemed so open and caring, yet she trusted neither of them. No one. A sense of danger was pressing down on her, the story not quite ringing true. Each time she looked directly at Antonello, his gaze slid away from hers. Vincente seemed just the opposite, meeting her gaze almost too boldly.

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    Nicoletta studied Antonello. He was of the same build as the other two Scarletti brothers, tall and elegant, with sinewy muscles and eloquent black eyes. He looked a bit more rugged, although this time his clothes were immaculate. Her teeth bit down on her lip, and her eyes widened in sudden memory.
    Antonello's clothes, too, had been stained with blood when he came out of the labyrinth the day before!
    She remembered it clearly. He wore hunting clothes covered in dark stains, much like when she had found him all those months gone. She backed away from the two brothers, taking small, barely noticeable steps, but her skin had gone pale beneath its golden tone.
    Vincente turned to regard his brother steadily, obviously reading Nicoletta's transparent face. "You looked ill-used on coming home yesterday, Anton. What happened?"
    Antonello looked more uncomfortable than ever. He shrugged, again avoiding Nicoletta's eyes. "Gino sent me out on business, which took longer than expected. On the way home I hunted."
    Vincente quirked an eyebrow at his brother. "Up to your usual nonsense, secretly donating meat to the village widows and orphans. Antonello sees himself as the great savior of the oppressed." His voice was good-natured rather than sneering, but Nicoletta found herself blushing deep red.
    Nicoletta had been the recipient of fresh meat by an anonymous donor. Antonello certainly had been the one providing for her and Maria Pia.
    He frowned at his brother. "Sometimes it is in payment for services rendered, Vincente. The people give much to us. You do not appreciate all that they do."
    Vincente held up his hands in laughing surrender. "We have heard this dissertation on more than one occasion. I shall pass on another lecture." He bowed low toward Nicoletta, a teasing grin on his face. "I see Gino has been bitten by the famous Scarletti curse. Jealousy runs deep within our blood." He nodded toward the study and the man looking down from its windows upon the courtyard.
    Giovanni stood very still, his arms behind his back, watching everything with his dark, hawklike gaze. He remained motionless, although she could see beyond him into the shadows of the room that he was not alone. His visitor was gesturing as he talked, uselessly gesturing, as Giovanni was not looking at him. No doubt he was listening intently, though; Nicoletta couldn't imagine anything else.
    "It is a terrible curse upon us," Vincente explained. "You cannot blame him; our blood runs hot when it comes to our women. It is no small thing to capture and hold the attention of a Scarletti, but we love only once and suffer no other man near the beloved." The way he uttered the words, almost with menace, made her shiver.
    Nicoletta rubbed her bare arms. Antonello exclaimed softly and reached out to touch her upper arms.
    "You are bruised!" He looked up at his older brother standing motionless at the window. There was a gleam of something frightening in Antonello's eyes, something reminiscent of Giovanni himself.
    Vincente turned back from watching his daughter circling the largest fountain in the courtyard, skipping and singing happily. "Bruised? Who has marked your skin?" He, too, glanced up at his eldest brother.
    "Dio! I do not believe it of him. I will not believe it of him, no matter what the gossips whisper. He would not mistreat a woman. But you cannot play with his feelings," he cautioned Nicoletta sternly. "You must stay away from other men. Marks like that betray passion. Good or evil, but passion nonetheless."
    Nicoletta turned a vivid red, the color sweeping up her neck and into her face. Her eyes flashed at