The Shadowed Heart. Nina Beaumont

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СКАЧАТЬ smiled. “Just humor me for a bit and stay close.” He lowered his arm. It brushed her breasts and he felt his body stir. He curved his hand over her hip, to make certain that she did not run and because it pleased him to touch her.

      “What a touching scene.” Giulietta raised her hands and tapped her fingers against one another in a parody of applause. “If I had known you had a taste for violence, caro, I would have obliged you earlier. Now—” she struck her closed fan sharply against her palm “—I suggest that we return to business.”

      “And I suggest that it is time for Signor Savini to retire,” Luca said smoothly. “I am told that the Great Council meets early in the morning.”

      “But you promised—” Savini began, his voice rising to a whine.

      “I’m sure you misunderstood.” Luca’s mouth curved in a smile that would not have looked out of place on a wolf. “Signora Giulietta only meant she shall endeavor that nothing that transpired here tonight shall become common knowledge.”

      “The damage has been done and people will talk. You know that. Gossip is the favorite pastime in Venice.” Savini’s voice rose. “The least you can do is to—”

      Luca felt the girl stiffen and he gave her a reassuring squeeze. “Buona notte, signore.”

      Savini opened his mouth to speak, but then he closed it with a snap. With a glare in Luca’s direction, he whirled to leave. Giulietta reached out to stop him, but he shook off her hand and swept out of the room, slamming the door behind him.

      “Now look at what you’ve done.” Giulietta turned on Luca, her dark eyes snapping with displeasure. “What kind of game are you playing?”

      “I dislike seeing those who cannot defend themselves coerced.” Suddenly conscious of the warmth of the girl’s body beneath his hand, the irony of his words occurred to him and he released her.

      Chiara looked up sharply at him. What unspeakable gall, she thought, to speak like that when he was so good at coercion himself. She remembered only too well how she had come upon him holding her sister’s hands pinned above her head much as he had held her own behind her back. And she remembered Donata’s terrified eyes. The memory brought a comforting return of the hatred just as she felt his hand lift away from her hip, the tips of his fingers lingering for a moment before he released her completely.

      “You’ve been reading too many philosophical treatises from France, caro. You seem to have begun to believe all that tripe about the purity of the savage and the rights of humanity.” The melodiousness of Giulietta’s voice could not hide the vibration of anger. “Now I suggest we let Manelli take her back to wherever it was he found her.”

      Taking his cue, Manelli hurried forward. “Thank you, signora, signore.” He grabbed Chiara’s arm so violently that a seam tore, leaving one sleeve of her linen blouse barely hanging on by a few threads. “Come, now. Come.”

      “Let me go.” She tried to escape his grip, but his meaty fingers dug into her flesh unmercifully.

      As she twisted from side to side to escape Manelli, her gaze met the night eyes. She hated Luca. Someday she would kill him. But he had been kind to her a few moments ago. He had touched her briefly with gentleness. All these thoughts came together in a twisted kind of logic. And her eyes asked for his help.

      “Didn’t you hear what she said, Manelli? Let her go.”

      Manelli’s fleshy mouth fell open as he stared at Luca. “But, signore, she belongs to me.”

      “Are you saying she is your slave?”

      “No!” Chiara cried, horrified at the word. “I am no man’s slave.”

      Manalli’s eyes darted to Signora Giulietta and he saw her almost imperceptible nod. “Yes, signore, my slave.”

      Chiara struggled against Manelli’s hands. This couldn’t be happening to her, she thought. Surely she would wake up and discover it was all a bad dream.

      “Good,” Luca said. “Then I will buy her from you.”

      Chiara spun her head to look at him. Going still with shock and disbelief, she watched him dip his hand into a pocket of his brocade waistcoat.

      “That would appear to be too little for a good female slave,” he said matter-of-factly, looking at the coins in his palm. “You will not deny me a loan, my dear, will you?”

      “Wh-what?” Giulietta sputtered as he turned toward her.

      As if she had graciously consented, he reached out and undid the clasp of her necklace of large squarecut amethysts surrounded by small pearls. He jiggled the necklace in his hand as if testing its weight and then, without warning, tossed it in Manelli’s direction.

      Manelli let Chiara go and grabbed the necklace in both hands. Terror warred with greed in his eyes as his gaze swept around the room. Then, like a rat scurrying for cover when faced by two dangerous cats, he ran out of the room.

      

      For a long moment, all three remained perfectly still, as if they were part of a tableau vivant, a living portrayal of a painting. Then, while Luca remained still, the women moved, Giulietta sweeping forward, all unsheathed claws and fury, Chiara stepping back.

      “How dare you insult me like that.” Giulietta’s voice was high and ill-tempered. “Just what are you doing?”

      “I will never be your slave. Never.”

      The Gypsy’s voice was low and throaty. Luca found it as arousing as a caress, but he ignored her as if she hadn’t spoken, and continued to look at his mistress.

      “You have eyes and ears, my dear. I would think it was perfectly obvious what I am doing.” His mouth curved in the glib smile of a man well skilled in pacifying troublesome women. “I’ve just bought myself a slave.”

      “Do what you wish in private, but how can you do this to my face?” Giulietta demanded.

      “I have done nothing but purchase a slave.” He emphasized his shrug by raising his hands slightly palm upward. “Do moderate your histrionics, my dear.”

      “Don’t tell me you do not intend to take her to your bed.” Her lips trembled. “You’re my lover. How can you betray me thus?”

      “Your lover, perhaps, but not your cavaliere servente, sworn to serve you in all ways.” Luca expelled a sharp breath, no longer trying to hide his irritation. “You were eager enough to welcome me to your bed without any promises. And, I would remind you, I have never made you any.”

      Giulietta’s mouth thinned as she fought for composure. “We will speak later. I must see to my guests now.”

      “We will speak another time, my dear.” It was definitely time to send Giulietta on her way, Luca thought. He would send her the rubies tomorrow. “I find that I am not in the mood for more talk tonight.”

      Giulietta looked from Luca to the Gypsy, then back to her lover. “I see.” Fisting her hands in the folds of her skirt, she managed to keep her tone light. “Amuse yourself well, caro. Just make sure you wash off her smell before you come to my bed again.”

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