Carpathian 00 - The Scarletti Curse

Francesco. Nicoletta smiled wanly as he bowed courteously. He felt her trembling as he locked his fingers around hers. "It is a good day for it," he whispered in encouragement.
    She had been waiting for some time locked in the confines of the coach, and it felt good to stand and stretch her legs. As she lifted her veiled face, through the lace she could see the dark clouds directly overhead. Although they had drifted in slowly, they were now gathering over the church, coming to a standstill there as if the wind had suddenly ceased. Nicoletta's fingers tightened around the guard's, a small sound of distress escaping her throat. Perched upon the very peak of the archway of the cathedral was the raven.
    The guard looked at the gathering clouds, then leaned close to Nicoletta. "I have wagered my pay on your courage." His voice was barely audible over the soft stomping of the restless horses. "Some say you do not have the heart to walk beside our don, but I know that you do." Very carefully he helped her over the uneven ground and through the throng of waiting villagers toward the marble steps of the church.
    Nicoletta was grateful for his support. It was difficult to think, even to breathe with the eyes of so many people on her, though most were well-wishers and friends. She straightened her shoulders and lifted her chin. The entire villaggio was lining the walkway to the cathedral, the girls in their finery pressing close, the men waving and wishing her well. Some she didn't recognize, their faces blurring together, and she was afraid she might succumb to the vapors.
    Once again Francesco saved her. "If you do not make it all the way through the ceremony, my famiglia will not eat for a long time. Courage."
    Nicoletta wanted to laugh at his nonsense, but too many people surrounded them, and fear was choking her. Still, his words bolstered her enough to reach her waiting attendants. "We cannot have your family starve over your lost wagers," she murmured without looking at him. She was staring into the yawning cavern of the Holy Church, her heart pounding so hard she was afraid it would jump right out of her body. Ketsia was waiting, hand in hand with Sophie, to fall in behind her as she ascended the wide stairs.
    Ahead of her, with the double doors of the cathedral wide open and the interior so deeply shadowed, the multitude seemed huge, indistinguishable as individuals. They were the aristocrazia, filling the pews while her people stood outside. Nicoletta walked as if in a dream, one foot in front of the other up the stairs toward a fate she had no hope of escaping.
    She was in the cathedral now, yet she didn't see the ornate sculptures, the archways, the tall stained-glass windows. She saw him. Don Scarletti. He stood waiting at the altar, overwhelming the enormous church with his presence. He was turned toward her, and through the veil of lace, their gazes locked. He was tall and handsome dressed in his elegant clothes. His shoulders were wider than she remembered, his arms and chest thicker. The aura of power that clung to him seemed to fill the enormous cathedral so that there was only the don.
    His implacable gaze compelled her forward. She had no choice. He was mesmerizing her into obedience. She walked toward him to the drumbeat of her terrified heart. There was a strange hush in the cathedral, as if a shroud of silence had descended, not in reverence but in horrified anticipation. The sound of the wind penetrated, a sudden slashing at the windows. Outside a wail arose from the crowd as the wind bit at them, an unexpected assault, piercing and cold. The wind rose in a mournful howl and rushed through the church, an icy, swirling omen of disaster.
    The guards hastily closed the doors to shut out the violence of the storm now racing in from the ocean, Generated by ABC Amber LIT Conv erter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html
    shutting out Nicoletta's villagers as well. They couldn't shut out the sound, however, as the windows rattled and the building seemed to quiver under the attack. Giovanni remained still, his gaze fixed on Nicoletta's so that she could only stare back into his eyes, captured there, held prisoner. Even as nature protested their union, she was compelled to continue forward.
    The earth rolled then, a wave beneath their feet, a ripple of protest felt throughout the church. A collective gasp went up, and several women began to cry. Nicoletta felt then as if the ground were striving to break the