Carpathian 10 - Dark Symphony

matter what you prepare for dinner. You will charm them. Trust me. I have been looking for you for a very long time, and they are thrilled I finally found you. Helena raced off to find the missing tablecloth."
    He slowed the pace, walking with her through the wide hall. As they passed the music room, an object crashed on the marble tile. They could hear pieces breaking and scattering across the floor.
    Antonietta turned her head toward the sound in alarm. "What is that? Surely not another crisis? Your family will be here any minute."
    "No one should be in your music room. I thought that was your private domain." His voice was soft. A whisper, no more.
    Antonietta stiffened. Her mind was so caught up in meeting his family, she hadn't considered that someone might be rummaging through her work. "Probably Vincente. He's so bored without little Margurite to play with." Vincente had never gone in her private music room. The room, with its perfect acoustics, was considered strictly off limits to everyone in the house while Antonietta was composing, which was nearly all the time.
    "I doubt it is the boy. Stay here with Celt." Byron scanned the music room. He knew exactly who was frantically searching through the musical scores.
    Antonietta gasped. "Marita." She picked the image right out of Byron's mind. "She must be looking for the Handel piece. I'm not staying here while you confront my sister-in-law. If she's betraying my family, I want to know about it."
    Byron was astonished. Antonietta was moving in and out of his mind with the touch of an expert. Telepathy was natural to her. She wasn't afraid of it at all. "It sounds as if there is glass on the floor. I do not want you to be injured."
    "I'm wearing shoes."
    He glanced down at the smooth Italian leather. "Open-toed sandals. That does not count as shoes."
    She made a small sound of annoyance. She had dressed with care, wanting to look her best for his family. Everything seemed to be going wrong. And now Marita was rummaging around in the music room.
    Byron moved silently, masking their presence from Marita. He watched as the woman opened cupboard after cupboard and rifled through the contents.
    What is she doing?
    Searching for something. Byron reached for Marita's mind, scanning to see her
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    Dark Symphony
    Page 126 of 188
    intentions, merging with Antonietta at the same time.
    Marita was crying softly, murmuring prayers as she rummaged through papers and musical scores.
    "I have the Handel safe," Antonietta announced.
    Byron hastily uncloaked their presence as Marita whirled around. She emitted a high-pitched squeak and covered her face.
    "Do not cry." He ordered it, biting out the words in sheer self-preservation.
    "Why would you do this, Marita? You are a Scarletti. If you and Franco needed money, why wouldn't you come to me?" Antonietta's heart was aching. "I don't understand."
    "Franco knows nothing of this. He cannot know. Please, Toni, don't say anything to him of this."
    The great knocker at the main entrance resonated throughout the palazzo. Antonietta clutched at Byron's arm. "They're here. We need a maid in here to clean up the glass immediately."
    "What are you going to do, Toni?" Marita demanded. "If you tell Franco what I've done, you will destroy my marriage. He will send me away. You know he will."
    "I can't help what Franco will do, Marita. You attempted to steal a great treasure from our family. Who were you taking it to?"
    "I can't say."
    The image shimmered in her mind. Loathing surrounded the image. Loathing and fear.
    Merged as she was with Byron, Antonietta caught the image from Marita's mind. "Don Demonesini? You were delivering a Scarletti treasure into the hands of that horrible man?"
    "How could you know? I didn't say. I would never utter his name aloud, the name of the devil himself." Marita crossed herself several times.
    Waves of distress and fear swamped them from all directions. Running footsteps clattered down the marble hall. "Si-gnorina Antonietta, may the good Dio save us all." Helena ran into the room, her bosom heaving, her hands fluttering in the air wildly. "We've found him. We've found Enrico. He's in the laundry chute, wrapped in your good Irish lace tablecloth."
    Behind Helena a young maid appeared. "I've shown Vlad and