Part 4 (1/2)
The thought struck her forcibly. She should be grateful to him. How dreadful.
But he had done it only because he thought she had the stone in some bank and he would need her to retrieve it. That thought made her relax. She didn't owe him anything.
”He is very... resilient,” Paolo observed. ”Still, I should go to him.”
A woman appeared whose hair was just going gray under her cap and whose figure indicated a sincere and lasting love of pasta.
She was fully dressed, even at this hour. Urbano no doubt kept them up to attend his every need no matter how late he returned.
”Sophia, just see to Miss Mulroney while I go up to the master,” Paolo said. ”She's lost everything in a fire, and we're to provide.
A trunk must be packed and ready by five.”
”He goes just before dawn?” Sophia asked, incredulous.
”Apparently there is no time to be lost.” He bowed to Kate and trotted up the stairs.
Sophia surveyed Kate and threw up her hands. ”My poor child!” she clucked. ”Whatever has happened to you?”
Kate looked down at her dress, its ethereal gray now streaked with real smoke, and its hem tattered in one place by... by flames? Had the fire been that close? Thank goodness for Urbano's l.u.s.t after the stone, or she would have burned to death. She looked a sight...
Her scar! She raised her hand to her cheek to hide it. She hadn't noticed Sophia looking at it, and so had forgotten for a moment.
”Now, now, let's just take that nasty dress off and get you a bath.” Sophia put her arm around Kate.
Perhaps a bath would be good. And Kate couldn't escape looking like this with no money, and no clothes and no... anything.
The enormity of her situation struck her. The stone couldn't be cut. It was no good to her even if she did escape. Urbano could take it back any time as long as she was almost a captive in his house. She felt her eyes fill. She sniffed. She couldn't be weak.
Weakness attracted predators.
”Things will look better after a bath. And perhaps a few hours 'rest.”
Kate let the chattering woman lead her up the stairs. What else could she do?”It must be difficult working for such a master,” Kate observed to Sophia, as she stepped into the steaming bath the servant girls had brought.
”In what way?” Sophia asked, handing her the soap.
”Well, he is so... arrogant... his callous disregard of your comfort...” She sank down into the water and let its warmth seep into her bones.
”Arrogant., yes, sometimes.” Sophia chuckled. ”I think he has not heard the word 'no' enough in his life. But he never disregards our comfort.”
”But... keeping you up so late, just to attend to him at this odd hour...”
”Oh, we sleep in the day as he does.” Sophia bustled about. She had procured a night rail from somewhere, made of very delicate linen covered with fine white embroidery. It did not belong to a servant girl. Sophia laid it out on the bed. Perhaps it was part of the services provided by a first-rate gigolo, ”He pays us most generously to keep his backward hours,” Sophia continued.
”He has bought Paolo and me a house in my village, so we may have a place when we are old. My mother lives there now, and he pays her as caretaker.”
This was surprising. But no, he would have to buy their silence. His clients must be able to count on his discretion and that of his servants. Kate soaped her body, grateful to be clean again. ”Does he stay up all night every night?” Such decadence!
”The poor man. He has an affliction. The sun burns his skin and hurts his eyes.” Sophia sighed. ”The Lord has made him pay a terrible price for his beauty. He has only the night.”
That explained why he met his banker at midnight.
Kate stood and Sophia wrapped a towel around her. ”Now just you stand in front of the fire to keep warm. You've had a shock tonight.”
Yes, she had. Now she was in the power of a man who had threatened her at every turn. She was trapped in his power by her circ.u.mstances. She cast a glance over to where her reticule, lumpy with its precious burdens of the stone that would saves her and her tarot cards, sat upon the dresser. The stone was useless to her without him. Who else would pay her for it, when it drove men mad? She looked around, feeling trapped.
Sophia must have seen her look. ”Now, now, child, the master will take care of you. You needn't worry. He is the kindest, most generous man. I know he seems arrogant. But put your trust in him. He will not fail you.”
Kate was about to protest that he was the last man she would ever trust, when Sophia put a finger to Kate's lips. ”I know what you are thinking, that he is taking you in a carriage all alone, but you need not fear for your virtue. He is a gentleman of honor.”
Kate could not help be feel bewildered. His servants' high opinion of the man seemed senseless in view of what they must know about his source of income. Paolo had been positively anxious for his welfare and this woman doted on him. Perhaps they didn't know him well. ”How long have you been with him?”
”Twenty years and more.” Sophia smiled, slipping the night rail over her head. ”Now, you just tuck into bed here for a few hours.” Sophia held back the richly embroidered linens and Kate crawled up into a bed layered with feather comforters. ”I'll come to wake and dress you. Don't worry your head about packing.” Sophia scooped up her burned dress, and turned down the lamps before she let herself out the door.
Well, that finished Kate's chance to escape for the moment. She couldn't go out in a night rail. She had very little money. She was so confused she didn't know if she should escape or be carried along by Urbano's plans. Which was the lesser of two evils?
In Rome, a woman wanted to kill her for the stone. If she could keep the stone from Urbano, to get it cut... perhaps his mother would even be her ally. A mother must know what he was. Her thoughts were becoming muddled. Jealousy that he knew his mother and felt he could depend on her wafted through Kate. Oh, well. She'd puzzle it out after she closed her eyes for just a moment...
” 'Ey! You there!”
Kate looked up from a garbage heap not so different from the one where she had awakened three nights ago. She wiped her mouth, ready to dart away. Too bad. This had been a good one. She stuffed the gristle left from someone's beefsteak into the pocket of her dirty pinafore and scrambled out of the moonlight.
”No, wait!”
She crouched behind the barrel set to catch rainwater by the tavern owner. The figure that accosted her was much smaller than those who had chased her off in the last days, its voice higher. It came into the moonlight now, approaching slowly. A boy. A ragged boy.
”I won't 'urt ye,” lie said, holding out a hand.
Kate said nothing. She knew she should try to make it down the alleyway. She had bruises over her back and shoulders for tarrying once too long. But this was the first child she had seen. Well, he was bigger and older than she was. But he wasn't a grown-up.
”Ye're 'ungry, ain't ye?” He fished in his pocket. ”D'ye like a bit o'sweet?”
He held out a misshapen and half-melted lump. ”A little 'ores'ound?”
She shook her head, though she could smell the sugar of it from the shadows where she lurked quite clearly. It made her mouth water.
”I bet ye'd like some mutton and gravy and roasted nips,” the boy went on, approaching.
Nothing had ever sounded so good. Kate's stomach rumbled. It began to rain again. Just when she'd been drying out.
”I knows a place where a nimble little one like ye. if ye're quick ta learn and eager ta please, could get a roof overyer 'ead and a warm blanket and three squares.”
”Where is that?” Kate asked in a small voice.
”Sir'll take ye in.”