Lair of the Lion

tea, her eyes bright as they examined Isabella's face. "It is ingrained in us not to stare directly at him, of course."
    It took a great deal of effort, but Isabella maintained her composure. The women knew things she didn't, but she would not give the advantage to Violante Drannacia by asking her personal questions regarding the don or the palazzo. "How fortunate for me." She kept a smile on her face as she turned to Theresa. "May I ask how long you've been married, Signora Bartolmei?" She was secretly pleased to see the younger woman look appalled at Violante's behavior.
    "Theresa," Captain Bartolmei's wife corrected. "Only a short time. I've always lived in the valley, but not in the holding. My famiglia has a large farm. I met Rolando when he was out hunting." A blush stole up her neck at either the memory or the admission.
    "The lions didn't bother your farm?" Isabella asked.
    Theresa shook her head. "I never saw one until I came here to the palazzo." A shadow crossed her face, and she twisted her fingers together nervously. "We heard them, or course, on the farm, but never once in all the years I was growing up did I ever see one."
    "Theresa's afraid one might gobble her up," Violante supplied.
    Isabella laughed lightly, shifting closer to Theresa. "I think that shows good sense, Theresa. I, too, would prefer to avoid being gobbled up. Have you seen a lion up close, Violante? I had no idea they were so enormous. Their heads are so massive, I think all three of us would fit into one's mouth."
    "Well." Violante shivered. "I saw one up close once. Sergio was making a patrol through the valley, and he stopped near our house to take me for a walk. We thought we were alone.
    We never heard a sound. We just walked right up on it." She cast a sheepish look at Theresa. "I started to scream, but Sergio put his hand over my mouth so I couldn't make a sound. I was terrified it would eat me right up."
    The three women looked at one another, then burst out laughing. Theresa relaxed visibly.
    Violante took a sip of her tea, managing to look regal. "What are you doing about this wedding of yours, Isabella? May I call you Isabella?"
    "Please do. The wedding." Isabella sighed. "I haven't any idea. Don DeMarco announced it, and that was the last I heard. I don't even know when it takes place. What was your wedding like?"
    Violante sighed in happy remembrance. "It was the most beautiful day of my life.
    Everything was perfect. The weather, the dresses, Sergio so handsome. Everyone of importance was there." She hesitated. "Well, with the exception of the Don DeMarco. He met with Sergio beforehand and gave us a magnificent wedding gift. Surely the dressmaker has started on your dress. She must hurry." She patted Isabella's hand. "We would love to help plan it, if tua madre isn't available, right, Theresa?"
    Theresa nodded eagerly. "It would be fun."
    "Don DeMarco knows I have no famiglia other than mio fratello, Lucca. He is quite ill, though, and could hardly plan a wedding. I've lost both of my parents."

    "I'll speak to Sarina and see what is being done," Violante said firmly. "We cannot leave the details to Don DeMarco, as he is very busy. It gives us an excuse to visit you often."
    "You'll never need an excuse," Isabella answered. "Our three houses are connected and always will be, bringing our people and the valley prosperity. I hope the three of us become very close friends. What was your wedding like, Theresa?" The young woman seemed perpetually nervous, and Isabella wanted to put her at ease.
    Theresa beamed at her. "It was beautiful, and Rolando was most handsome. We were married in the Holy Church, of course, but afterward we danced all evening under the stars."
    "Scusi, Signorina Vernaducci," Sarina interrupted with a slight curtsey. "I must take care of a problem in the kitchen."
    "We'll manage, Sarina, grazie," Isabella assured her and waved her one ally away. She turned back to the other two women, determined to try to make friends. "It sounds wonderful, Theresa. I suppose your parents planned it for you."
    "Yes, with Don DeMarco," Theresa said, looking uneasy again.
    Isabella's stomach did a funny little roll, instantly putting her on guard. While the two women continued to chat, she glanced surreptitiously around the room. They were no longer alone—something had joined them. It was subtle, the outpouring of twisted malice flowing into the room.
    Isabella sighed. It was a long afternoon. She kept the conversation