'What!?'
* * *
Kat looked around anxiously. No one appeared to be staring at a red-faced Katerina Montescue and a tousle- haired teenager who was still gawping like a fish out of water. Marco . . . Marco had always been rather protective of Benito. Kat couldn't see why, because she'd bet his co-worker knew all about where babies came from when he was still in his own cradle. Still, it was par for the course. Very like Marco. She'd bet that Dorma bitch had seduced him. Her hands crooked into claws.
Benito finally got control of his larynx. 'Who told you that?'
'Maria. Marco told her.'
Benito shook his head. 'Marco is the ultimate prize idiot. He needs a minder.'
'Accidents happen,' said Kat, stiffly.
Benito snorted. 'Not unless Marco is the male equivalent of the Virgin Mary. And I've known him all my life. He's only half a saint. The other half is pure idiot, I promise.'
He seemed so absolutely certain. 'So who is the father then?' Kat demanded.
Benito looked at her, then away; then shook his head. 'Let's just say Marco is paying his debts.'
She had to know. 'Benito, I'm not joking. If I have to spend the whole of the Casa Montescue's strongbox on a truth-spell, I'll get that answer. There isn't much in the strong box--but we can borrow.' And some things are more important than money.
Benito shrugged. 'It's too late, Kat. I know Marco. It is a question of honor. He's made his decision. He'll live by it.'
Kat sighed. She should have trusted her heart and gone and talked him out of it. 'He made it after he got that stupid letter from me.' Well, marriages could be annulled. It wasn't easy, but once she had the real father . . . 'I need to know who the father is, Benito. I'll find out. Every Strega scryer in this town relies on us. So you might as well tell me.'
Benito shook his head. 'Who did Marco tell that he was the father? There's your answer. And it is no help to you, Kat.'
Marco told Maria. . . . 'Caesare?' she asked, weakly.
Benito nodded. 'After Marco's silly love poems made Caesare know the Case Vecchie girl had the hots for him, he made a move.'
She'd even seen them together, she now realized. At that ridotto--true, Angelina had been masked, but the hair was recognizable. 'Maria?' she asked, already knowing the answer.
'Doesn't know. I mean, she was after Caesare about him having another woman. But she doesn't know who, or even for sure. Hey--you leave her out of this, Kat! Look, there is no way the Dorma would have taken Aldanto. He's an ex-Montagnard. Forget about Marco. All you can do is wreck his life, and wreck Maria's. I know my brother. He won't back out. I'm sorry . . .'
Kat's head was whirling. She put it in her hands.
'Have some wine,' said Benito gently, pushing the glass to her.
She took the wine. The harsh ruby liquid slopped a little. 'You're his brother!?' There was a small sameness about the mouth, and in mannerisms . . .
Benito nodded. 'I don't think we have the same father,' he said wryly. 'But yes, I'm Marco's brother. And believe me, Kat. Best thing you can do is leave him to get on with life with Angelina Dorma.'
'Your name is Valdosta?'
Benito nodded. 'Benito Valdosta. But I don't advertise it. After Mama was killed we went into hiding. Marco took off into the Jesolo. I lived in an attic and was a sneak thief. Then someone tried to kill Marco, about a year ago. Assassin. Professional. So I took him to Caesare.'
'Someone tried to kill him?'
'Yes. Marco kind of assumed it was someone from the Council of Ten. But later we decided maybe it was the Montagnards.'
