the boatman thought that they were an ill-assorted pair—leaving aside the blood spattered all over Maria—he did not let on. “Where to, signorinas?”
“Casa Montescue,” said Kat, firmly.
Kat knew that she had to be firm. She wanted to be sick. She wanted to give in to the helpless shivers. Even in this light, she could see that Maria was as pale as a sheet.
“Can’t,” whispered Maria.
“Just for now,” said Kat. “They were hunting you, Maria. They knew exactly where to find you—and how to get you to open the door. How?”
“Caesare told them. . . . It had to have been him. Why?” Maria’s voice was small, hurt by the betrayal.
“Maybe you know too much.”
Maria stared at her, horror in her eyes. “I wouldn’t . . .”
Kat shrugged. “A woman scorned might.”
There was a long silence. “I always thought he’d come back to me. I . . . I never wanted to admit it, but I always hoped he would.”
“He’s not going to, Maria. That’s why I want you in the Casa Montescue. You’re safer there, for now. He won’t know.”
Maria laughed wildly. “Oh yes, he will! Do you know why I wouldn’t come to the Casa Montescue? Because it’s where his new mistress lives! Or his old mistress, I should maybe say. The bitch said she’s known him for years—from before I met him. That means during his days with the Montagnards.”
“Alessandra?” asked Kat, faintly. “My sister-in-law?”
Maria nodded. “I didn’t mean to tell you.”
“I thought it was Angelina Dorma.”
Maria snorted. “She’s just had Marco’s baby.”
“It’s not Marco’s,” said Kat fiercely.
Maria gaped at Kat as she worked it out. Then, snorted just as fiercely.
“Sister—I think we’ll kill him! Your Marco is an idiot.”
Finally, at that point, reaction set in. All the adrenaline, possibly—almost certainly—killing two men, running away, the emotionally shocking revelations. The two girls clung to each other, sobbing their hearts out, while a stoical if puzzled gondolier took them on to the Casa Montescue. He did shrug, once. The city was going to war, after all. Many strange things would happen tonight.
It was Kat who stopped crying first. She swallowed. “Maria. When was
“Casa Montescue,” said Kat, firmly.
Kat knew that she had to be firm. She wanted to be sick. She wanted to give in to the helpless shivers. Even in this light, she could see that Maria was as pale as a sheet.
“Can’t,” whispered Maria.
“Just for now,” said Kat. “They were hunting you, Maria. They knew exactly where to find you—and how to get you to open the door. How?”
“Caesare told them. . . . It had to have been him. Why?” Maria’s voice was small, hurt by the betrayal.
“Maybe you know too much.”
Maria stared at her, horror in her eyes. “I wouldn’t . . .”
Kat shrugged. “A woman scorned might.”
There was a long silence. “I always thought he’d come back to me. I . . . I never wanted to admit it, but I always hoped he would.”
“He’s not going to, Maria. That’s why I want you in the Casa Montescue. You’re safer there, for now. He won’t know.”
Maria laughed wildly. “Oh yes, he will! Do you know why I wouldn’t come to the Casa Montescue? Because it’s where his new mistress lives! Or his old mistress, I should maybe say. The bitch said she’s known him for years—from before I met him. That means during his days with the Montagnards.”
“Alessandra?” asked Kat, faintly. “My sister-in-law?”
Maria nodded. “I didn’t mean to tell you.”
“I thought it was Angelina Dorma.”
Maria snorted. “She’s just had Marco’s baby.”
“It’s not Marco’s,” said Kat fiercely.
Maria gaped at Kat as she worked it out. Then, snorted just as fiercely.
“Sister—I think we’ll kill him! Your Marco is an idiot.”
Finally, at that point, reaction set in. All the adrenaline, possibly—almost certainly—killing two men, running away, the emotionally shocking revelations. The two girls clung to each other, sobbing their hearts out, while a stoical if puzzled gondolier took them on to the Casa Montescue. He did shrug, once. The city was going to war, after all. Many strange things would happen tonight.
It was Kat who stopped crying first. She swallowed. “Maria. When was