'Sir. Um. I've got a suggestion. Your granddaughter Katerina going out on these night trips on her own. It's not safe, sir.' Benito ignored the poisonous look Kat gave him.
The old man sighed again. 'You're right, boy. But I'm too old these days. And who else do we trust?'
'As it happens, I have someone you can trust. Absolutely. Good with a knife too, and knows how to keep a still tongue.'
Old Lodovico shook his head. 'Montescue can't afford any bravos, boy. Certainly not good ones. And I'm not having Kat going on these night trips with a man.'
Benito smiled. 'Maria is no bravo, sir, nor a man. And I reckon Kat can trust her. She owes Kat, and she doesn't forget a debt.'
Kat stared at him. 'Maria? But what about . . . Caesare?'
'He threw her out.'
'Tell her to come to me,' said Kat decisively.
Her grandfather actually managed a chuckle. That was a good sign. 'Minx. We can't afford any more people.'
'We can afford a roof. And food. And maybe a bit for risks.'
The old man shrugged. 'Find a roof that doesn't leak at Montescue these days! But you've made up your mind, Kat. I know I'm wasting my time.'
'You won't regret it, sir,' said Benito earnestly. 'I'll get word to her, Kat. She needs a woman-friend right now. Might take her a day or two to make up her mind, huh? She's really stiff-canaler proud. But I'll talk to her. Well, can I call you a gondola?'
'Thank you. You're a good lad, Dorma.'
Benito smiled. 'My name is not Dorma, sir. It's Valdosta. The good one is my brother.'
* * *
They were silent for a good part of the voyage. Finally Lodovico sighed. 'So. I was wrong about them. But Kat . . . The Montescue will not pursue the vendetta. My promise. But he is married, Katerina. I want your promise. You will leave him alone.'
Kat sighed. 'It wouldn't make any difference. You don't know him. He won't do anything no matter what. Sometimes Grandpapa, I think we could choke on our own honor. And Marco is like that. Dorma tricked him into marrying that sister . . .'
'He had to do that, child,' Lodovico said stiffly. 'You shouldn't know about that sort of thing, but honor demands--'
'I'll bet that child has a good chance at a blond head of hair, Grandpapa!' snapped Kat angrily. 'And not dyed blond like its mama, either.'
A short time after, still angry, Kat was back to glaring at her grandfather. 'And what's this mention you made earlier of a 'Francesca' telling you this and that? Surely--'
Lodovico's face was as stiff as a board. 'My own grandfather!' Kat wailed. 'I can't believe it!'
'I'm not so old as all that,' he muttered.
'My own grandfather! I'll kill her!'
Lodovico smiled wryly. 'That's the spirit, girl. Start a vendetta of your own.'
Kat choked on the next threat. Her grandfather shrugged. 'She got me to stop hunting him, you know. Your precious Marco, I mean.'
Kat swallowed. 'Well.' Swallowed again. 'Well. All right, then. Maybe I'll just break her leg.'
Lodovico shook his head firmly. 'Better to go for an arm. Good advice from an old vendettist. Her legs are awfully strong.'
