Cass pointed toward the entrance to the piazza. “Palazzo Alioni is just across the way.” She dropped Falco’s arm. “I can make it alone from here.”
Falco cocked his head to the side. His eyes sparkled. “Are you afraid of being seen with me?”
“No,” Cass said, a little too loudly. He was wearing down her resolve, and that just wouldn’t do. Besides, she needed to compose herself before attempting to sneak back in. “I just don’t want to wake anyone.”
“Fair enough.” Falco pulled her closer to him. “But know that I’ll be watching you all the way to the door, so there’s no danger of you being abducted.” He scooped Cass suddenly into his arms and spun both of them around in a circle. “By anyone but me, that is.”
Cass gave in to giggling. She couldn’t help it. Everything seemed less frightening now that she was home and Falco was with her. “Put me down,” she said. “You’re going to wake up the entire block.”
Falco lowered her to the ground, but he kept his arms around her waist. “I may not be able to give you diamonds yet, Cassandra, but I do have something for you.”
“Oh really?” Cass asked, suddenly breathless.
He nodded, his face as serious as stone. “Close your eyes,” he commanded.
“Falco,” Cass protested. “I really need to—” She knew she should pull away from his touch. But she couldn’t.
“Close your eyes or I
Cass closed her eyes. It would be fine. What harm could one little . . . ?
Her brain didn’t even get to finish the thought. Her body caught fire and her knees buckled as Falco pressed his lips to hers. He lifted her off the ground. She was weightless. She was floating. No, flying. Falco supported her back against the marble wall of the nearest palazzo. A soft sigh escaped his lips. The warm breath tickled Cass’s chin. The desire that had bloomed inside of her when she saw him became an entire garden of roses, wild and warm, twining through every part of her soul.
She gave in, pulling him close, tangling her hands in his hair, tasting his skin and his lips and his tongue. She expected him to taste like ale, but he just tasted warm, like summer and sunrise. And happiness. Happiness Cass hadn’t felt in weeks. And in that moment she knew that she would go home with him, that she would give in. She would let him return her to his meager lodgings and undress her, and their bodies would flow together like rivers.
But then, out of nowhere, an image flashed: Hortensa Zanotta and the blond man circling each other. Hortensa’s knees going weak, her slender frame crumpling to the floor. Cass pulled away. Her mouth, her whole body, was still on fire. “Stop.” The word came out choked, like a whisper. “We can’t.” Cass felt suddenly, inexplicably, like she was going to cry.
“I know,” Falco said. “I’m sorry.” He raked both hands through his hair in frustration.
Cass shook her head. “I don’t understand how you can affect me in such a way.” If she hadn’t pulled away when she had, she might have let him lay her down right there on the stone walkway. It was madness.
Falco’s eyes softened. “I don’t understand it either.” He shook his head. “Sometimes I think nature is more powerful than I give her credit for. Perhaps the stars brought us back together after we went our separate ways. Like maybe the world has plans for us.” He looked down at the ground for a moment.
Cass didn’t speak. She was afraid of what she might say.
Falco leaned in and brushed his lips across her cheek. “Go on.” He pointed to a glimmer of gold low on the horizon. “The sun will be rising soon.”
fifteen
“Death by drowning occurs when water penetrates the lungs. Fluid displaces the last bits of air and then passes into the vessels, destroying the blood, stopping the heart.”
—THE BOOK OF THE ETERNAL ROSE
Cass didn’t sleep. She couldn’t. She just sat at her washing table, journal open in front of her, pages blank. She watched the sun creep through the latched shutters and burn away the darkness. Falco’s kiss held fast to her lips. She couldn’t stop thinking about it. Guilt gnawed at her. The Virgin Mary stared down from the painting behind the bed. Cass padded across the room and lowered the attached veil over the Virgin’s face. It helped somewhat, but not much. There was no veil she could lower over her thoughts of Luca.
Her fiance had spent the night alone, in a cramped cell, possibly being starved or tortured while Cass had been drinking ale with Falco.
Kissing Falco.
What was the matter with her?
She laid her head down on the table and let the smooth wood cool her flushed cheeks. She didn’t know why the mere sight of Falco could cause her to lose track of everything that was important. Was it love or was it madness? Was there any difference between the two? She thought about what Falco had said, how he thought perhaps the stars had brought the two of them together for a purpose. She’d had the same thoughts herself, about fate, but she knew Falco didn’t believe in that.
She wondered what Luca believed. He was a good Catholic. “A good man,” Agnese always said. Did Cass affect Luca the way Falco affected her? And if not, would Luca be better off with someone else?
Cass sighed. She was making excuses, trying to justify what had happened. Her head was beginning to throb. She ought to lie down for a few hours, but she could already hear the servants moving throughout the house. She couldn’t go to bed now. It would raise questions. Better just to stay up.
Cass opened the shutters. The early-morning sun shone brighter than it ever did on San Domenico.
A group of men were erecting something in the piazza. She watched as they assembled a series of logs and stones into a crude platform. Two priests in black robes and skullcaps stood beneath the archway, observing the proceedings with interest. A pair of men with worn, pockmarked faces carried a large tin basin across the square and hoisted it onto the platform.
Someone knocked on the door. Probably Siena coming to assist her in getting dressed. Cass swore under her breath. How was she supposed to explain still being dressed in yesterday’s gown? Another knock. “Come in, Siena,” Cass said.
“It’s not Siena, silly. It’s me.” Madalena crept into the room with a tray of cheese and fruit. Luckily, Mada didn’t seem to notice that Cass had on the same clothing she had worn the day before.
“I was waiting for Siena,” Cass said quickly. “Have you seen her?”
“She and Feliciana are doing some mending upstairs. Do you need her immediately? I thought we could share a bit of breakfast.” Mada looked apologetically at the tray. “It isn’t much.”
“It’s fine.” Cass picked at a bundle of grapes while Madalena chattered about what she hoped to do later in the day.
“Marco and I spent the whole afternoon and evening together yesterday,” Madalena said. “Sorry to abandon you in the piazza. Did you have any luck finding Hortensa?”
“No.” Cass didn’t elaborate.
“Your skin is glowing,” Mada said suddenly. “The air of Florence is already doing wonders for your complexion.”
Cass had a feeling it was some combination of guilt and desire, not the air, that was making her glow. She practically smoldered when she thought of Falco’s soft touch, of the way his lips felt against hers. How easy it would have been to follow him home and spend the night in his arms.
“What are you thinking?” Mada tilted her head just slightly. “You look as though you might burst out into song.”
Cass blushed, debating furiously about whether to tell Madalena about Falco’s presence in Florence. If she did, Mada would do her best to discourage her from seeing him. But maybe that was what Cass needed.
