they would have forced your obedience. You are in shock, cold, and hungry.
You'll feel much better when you are warm."
As they moved swiftly through the halls of the castello, several servants smiled and nodded at them, open relief on their faces. Isabella tried to acknowledge them graciously, not understanding their reaction to her return. Nothing in this place made sense—not the people, not the animals. "Lions don't live up in the mountains. How did they come to be here? Shouldn't someone go out and look for the don?"
Sarina remained silent except for her little, soothing, clucking noises. Isabella's room was ready, with a fire burning and a tea tray. The housekeeper helped remove Isabella's cape, gasping as she spotted blood on it. "Are you injured? Where are you injured?"
Isabella stared in dismay at the red smears. She took the cape from Sarina, crushing the material in her hands. Don DeMarco had wrapped her in his own cloak. It had lain over hers, smearing her cape with blood. It was the don who had been injured. She had shook her head, denying the possibility. He must have gotten blood on his cloak when he knelt beside the fallen lion.
"I am unhurt, signora," Isabella murmured. "Well, my back is painful. I think I will swallow my pride and ask you to apply the numbing salve." She attempted a weak smile as she allowed Sarina to open her gown and expose the wounds on her back.
Isabella lay on the bed on her stomach, her fingers curling around the coverlet as Sarina carefully prepared the mixture of herbs. "Tell me about the lions, signora, and why the don's men would leave him alone in a snowstorm with wild beasts surrounding him. There is no alarm in the palazzo. I sense unease but not fear. Why is that?"
"Hush, bambina. Lie still while I apply this to your poor back. And you must call me Sarina. You will be mistress here now."
"I have not agreed to such a thing. He threw me out once and may very well do so again.
I'm not ready to forgive him." Through half-open eyes, Isabella caught Sarina's quick, appreciative smile, but she had no idea what to make of it.
"I think you're just what Don DeMarco needs." Very gently Sarina began to apply the numbing potion to Isabella's ravaged back. "You would like to hear the story of the lions, would you? It is an interesting one to tell around the fire at night to frighten the children. It must have a few grains of truth in it, as lions should not be in these mountains. Yet they are here." She sighed. "They are a curse and blessing to our people."
Isabella opened her eyes to look fully at Sarina. "That is a strange thing to say. I saw the don's face when he knelt beside the rogue lion and touched it so…" She searched for the right description. "Reverently, sadly. He was sad that it was dead. My heart ached for him."
Suddenly aware she had revealed too much of her confused feelings for the don, Isabella frowned. "Just for that moment, until I remembered how he had ordered me to leave without so much as a reason. He is fickle and prone to changing his mind, obviously not someone to count on." She managed to sound disdainful even while lying on her stomach with her gown pulled down to her waist. A true Vernaducci could manage under the worst circumstances, and Isabella was proud of herself. The world didn't have to know she melted every time the don looked her way. "Tell me the story, Sarina. I find it a most interesting topic." And it would keep her from running out into the storm in an attempt to hunt for the don.
Sarina began to pat the melting snowflakes from Isabella's hair. "Many, many years ago, in the old times, back when magick ruled the world, when gods and goddesses were called upon to aid the people, three houses of power resided here in this mountain valley. The houses were DeMarco, Bartolmei, and Drannacia. They were of ancient and sacred lineage, well favored and much loved by the gods. At that time, the houses practiced the old ways, worshiping Mother
You'll feel much better when you are warm."
As they moved swiftly through the halls of the castello, several servants smiled and nodded at them, open relief on their faces. Isabella tried to acknowledge them graciously, not understanding their reaction to her return. Nothing in this place made sense—not the people, not the animals. "Lions don't live up in the mountains. How did they come to be here? Shouldn't someone go out and look for the don?"
Sarina remained silent except for her little, soothing, clucking noises. Isabella's room was ready, with a fire burning and a tea tray. The housekeeper helped remove Isabella's cape, gasping as she spotted blood on it. "Are you injured? Where are you injured?"
Isabella stared in dismay at the red smears. She took the cape from Sarina, crushing the material in her hands. Don DeMarco had wrapped her in his own cloak. It had lain over hers, smearing her cape with blood. It was the don who had been injured. She had shook her head, denying the possibility. He must have gotten blood on his cloak when he knelt beside the fallen lion.
"I am unhurt, signora," Isabella murmured. "Well, my back is painful. I think I will swallow my pride and ask you to apply the numbing salve." She attempted a weak smile as she allowed Sarina to open her gown and expose the wounds on her back.
Isabella lay on the bed on her stomach, her fingers curling around the coverlet as Sarina carefully prepared the mixture of herbs. "Tell me about the lions, signora, and why the don's men would leave him alone in a snowstorm with wild beasts surrounding him. There is no alarm in the palazzo. I sense unease but not fear. Why is that?"
"Hush, bambina. Lie still while I apply this to your poor back. And you must call me Sarina. You will be mistress here now."
"I have not agreed to such a thing. He threw me out once and may very well do so again.
I'm not ready to forgive him." Through half-open eyes, Isabella caught Sarina's quick, appreciative smile, but she had no idea what to make of it.
"I think you're just what Don DeMarco needs." Very gently Sarina began to apply the numbing potion to Isabella's ravaged back. "You would like to hear the story of the lions, would you? It is an interesting one to tell around the fire at night to frighten the children. It must have a few grains of truth in it, as lions should not be in these mountains. Yet they are here." She sighed. "They are a curse and blessing to our people."
Isabella opened her eyes to look fully at Sarina. "That is a strange thing to say. I saw the don's face when he knelt beside the rogue lion and touched it so…" She searched for the right description. "Reverently, sadly. He was sad that it was dead. My heart ached for him."
Suddenly aware she had revealed too much of her confused feelings for the don, Isabella frowned. "Just for that moment, until I remembered how he had ordered me to leave without so much as a reason. He is fickle and prone to changing his mind, obviously not someone to count on." She managed to sound disdainful even while lying on her stomach with her gown pulled down to her waist. A true Vernaducci could manage under the worst circumstances, and Isabella was proud of herself. The world didn't have to know she melted every time the don looked her way. "Tell me the story, Sarina. I find it a most interesting topic." And it would keep her from running out into the storm in an attempt to hunt for the don.
Sarina began to pat the melting snowflakes from Isabella's hair. "Many, many years ago, in the old times, back when magick ruled the world, when gods and goddesses were called upon to aid the people, three houses of power resided here in this mountain valley. The houses were DeMarco, Bartolmei, and Drannacia. They were of ancient and sacred lineage, well favored and much loved by the gods. At that time, the houses practiced the old ways, worshiping Mother
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