Lair of the Lion

leaned against, accustomed to the firm feel of her arm around his back and the square of cloth she pressed into his hand.
    Weak, he bent nearly double and clutched her arm to prevent her from moving.
    When the spasm had passed, Lucca looked up at Francesca. "You can see I need you here with me."
    "Just try to sleep," she replied sweetly, patting his shoulder. "I'll be back before you know it."
    "I should speak to tuo fratello," he snapped, disgusted. "And you, Isabella, have much to answer for. Francesca has told me of your betrothal."
    Isabella laughed softly and kissed her brother on the top of his head. "It's too late to worry about my running wild. I came to this place all by myself. I think Don DeMarco intends to speak to you about my wayward manner."
    Lucca's dark eyes flashed, momentarily revealing his proud, arrogant nature. "If he wants to talk to me about your behavior, he might want to explain why his own sister is allowed to be unescorted in a man's bedchamber."
    "I'd love to hear that particular discussion," Francesca said as she took Isabella's hand.
    "Pay him no attention when he's rambling, Sarina. It's the illness."

    Isabella and Francesca escaped into the passageway. The moment the hidden door had swung closed behind them, they burst into laughter. "He's very demanding but so sweet, Isabella. He said he likes my hair." Francesca patted her upswept hairdo. "I asked Sarina to dress it for me."
    The taper Francesca held was sputtering. She raised the flickering flame to a torch. Light leapt and danced as they hurried along the narrow corridor.
    "Lucca isn't normally so demanding, Francesca. I don't know why he's clinging to you the way he is or why he's teasing you so much." Isabella rubbed her temples. "I hope he won't really talk to Nicolai. We shouldn't let the two of them ever get together."
    Francesca looked vulnerable for a moment. "No one has ever talked to me as Lucca does.
    He seems so interested in my life, in my opinions. Once, when I was quoting mio fratello, he became impatient and demanded to know what I thought. Only you and tuo fratello have ever asked me what I think."
    Isabella smiled affectionately at her. She studied the young face, finding her vulnerability touching. She couldn't imagine the beast overtaking Francesca. Or Francesca leading her to her doom off a slippery balcony, or stalking her through the city streets. She sighed softly.
    If Francesca hadn't stalked her, that left Nicolai. "Lucca believes a woman should speak her mind, yet he is extremely protective. He might well speak to Don DeMarco."
    "He couldn't sleep, and he told me the funniest stories. I love his voice. I loved his stories." She ducked her head. "I hope you don't mind that I told him of your betrothal. I assured him Nicolai loves you."
    "What did he say?" Isabella gripped Francesca's arm as they began the descent to the bowels of the palazzo. Isabella hadn't been looking forward to telling her brother, knowing he would guess how the match had come about.
    Francesca looked down at her hands. "He seemed pleased. Nicolai is a good catch, but I couldn't bring myself to tell Lucca about the lions. I wanted to. I didn't want to lie to him.
    When he looks at me, I want to tell him everything." She sighed and smoothed her dress.
    "He says the nicest things to me."
    "I'm glad he hasn't been too difficult with you. I owe you so much, Francesca. It must be hard for you to be indoors so much after all your freedom." She looked at the young woman. "Your gown is beautiful. Did Lucca notice it?" It was like her brother to observe details.
    "Do you like it?" Francesca asked shyly, pleased that Isabella had noticed. "Sarina is always after me to wear the gowns Nicolai has had made for me. I usually give them away to the young women who really want them. Lucca thought it becoming." She shook her head. "Lucca knows something is wrong. He keeps asking me. I told him he was to sleep, but he wanted to know why I was sad."

    "We'll find a way to tell him the truth."
    "What truth? That I'm Nicolai's half-mad sister who turns occasionally into a beast?"
    Francesca's voice shook. "I really like him. I don't even know why, but I don't want him thinking ill of me."
    Isabella glanced at her. "Lucca has no reason to think ill of you."
    Francesca was no longer paying attention. Her hand gripped Isabella's wrist. They were in a small room deep beneath the castello. It was bare, empty, a stark, almost ugly place, unlike any other room