Cass thought back to the party she had crashed at Palazzo della Notte, at the way Piero had pursued her as if she were prey. She remembered the way Hortensa had willingly given herself to the masked stranger, the alleged vampire. But Piero was no vampire. He had saved her.
“Rest, Signorina Cassandra. The butler sent word to your friend and handmaid, and they will come tomorrow for a visit.” He blew out the candle that sat on her washing table. “I’ll be back much sooner, with more medicine to ease your pain.” He smiled at her again.
After he had gone, Cass lay beneath the sheets, listening to the rain on the rooftop, trembling in a way that had nothing to do with her fever. Piero was part of the mystery, she could feel it. He wrote of experiments and spoke of humors. He owned a ring engraved with the six-petaled flower. Cass had to get close to him, even though he scared her. One way or another, he was involved with the Order of the Eternal Rose, and she would do whatever it took to get him to tell his secrets.
twenty
“Mandrake was used frequently by the Ancients, as both an analgesic and a sedative. In large doses it has been known to cause delirium.”
—THE BOOK OF THE ETERNAL ROSE
Cass woke from a dream, disoriented by the darkness. Her chest went tight for a moment until she remembered she was at Belladonna’s villa. There was a faint padding noise, and she saw a flash of movement as the blackness distorted around her. Someone else was in the room.
“Piero?” she croaked out. “Is that you?”
A candle flame sparked to life. “Sorry to disappoint.” Falco’s teasing grin materialized in the soft yellow glow.
Cass smiled and then immediately winced. Why was it that she couldn’t do anything except lie like a block of marble without her arm starting to throb? She adjusted the pillow behind her back. Mannaggia. She felt as broken-down as her aunt Agnese.
“Should I send for Dottor Basso?” Falco asked, sounding as if it were the last thing he wanted to do. He knelt down with the candle so their faces were just inches apart. “You were thrashing about in your sleep. Is it the pain?”
Cass shook her head. For once she couldn’t remember her dream, which was undoubtedly a blessing. “I’m fine.” Her arm was aching, but she didn’t want Piero. She didn’t want anything to steal away these precious moments with Falco.
For a moment, neither of them spoke. Falco set the candle on the table next to the bed. He traced the hollows under her eyes, skimming a finger across the bridge of her nose. “You look so pale,” he said. “Like a ghost. I can’t believe I could have lost you. What were you doing all alone in the woods?”
Cass told him about de Gradi accosting her in the library, how she’d panicked and fled the villa. “Did you know that he was here?” she asked.
Falco wrapped the fingers of her right hand in his. He sat next to her on the bed. “He’s heard about the trials, about the people drowned and then dumped in graves outside the city.” His mouth tightened into a hard line. “Easy pickings. He’s been . . . encouraging me to go back into my former line of work.” Falco added quickly, “I said no, of course.”
Cass felt her stomach seize. Thinking of what he had done in Venice for money still made her queasy. “How many bodies can de Gradi possibly need? Surely Venice has its fair share of the dead.”
“I suspect there are other reasons for his presence in Florence,” Falco said. “He’s the one who told me about the showing at Don Loredan’s. Maybe he knew Belladonna would be there; he seems to be quite enamored with her.”
“She seems to be quite enamored with you.” Cass did her best to keep her voice light.
She was hoping Falco would deny it, but he merely shrugged. “As you’ve probably noticed, she’s quite fond of most pretty things. She seemed quite taken with you at her birthday dinner.”
“True, but she’s not posing nude for hours in my company.”
Falco laughed. “She might if you asked nicely. She’s not particular when it comes to her admirers.” He reached out and ran the back of his hand down the side of Cass’s face. His voice lowered. “She’s nothing compared with you.”
Warmth bloomed in Cass’s chest. Falco’s gentle touch never failed to melt her. Did he really find her more beautiful than his stunning patroness?
Falco lifted her chin and leaned forward. His lips grazed her cheek. “There’s something hard about her, like she’s part sculpture. Unreal,” he murmured. “You are all softness, and all real. You are ten times as beautiful as she is.”
He leaned in even closer, and then hesitated. Cass knew he was waiting for her to close the almost-nonexistent gap between them. She didn’t do it. She couldn’t. She had come to Florence with the noble intentions of clearing Luca’s name. And what, exactly, had she accomplished? She’d betrayed Luca yet again and almost gotten herself killed.
But maybe she had crossed paths with Falco for a different reason, a higher purpose. He could help her. He could be her eyes while she was trapped in bed.
She pressed her forehead against his cheek, but turned her lips away from his mouth. His face felt cool against her damp skin. “I need your help,” she whispered.
“My lovely tormentor,” Falco said softly. “How can I be of assistance?” Cass could hear the hurt in his voice.
She couldn’t bring herself to look at him. “The Book of the Eternal Rose—” she started to say, and then gasped as something flickered in the corner of her vision. In the dim light she could just barely make out the door to her room. It was open, only a sliver, but Cass swore she saw a face in the hall. Was it Piero coming to administer medicine? Signorina Briani coming to check on her? Or was someone spying on them?
She sat up quickly, pulling her covers tight around her. Her arm throbbed in protest, and Cass bit back a cry of pain. The face disappeared from view.
“What is it?” Falco asked.
“I saw someone,” Cass faltered. “A face, looking through the door.”
Falco stood and took the candle from the bedside table. He strode across the room. “The door is closed,” he said. He pulled it open and peered out into the hallway. “The whole villa is dark. Could you have imagined it?”
Cass sighed. Was she really so terrified of giving in to Falco’s affections that she was hallucinating?
She was suddenly seized with a terrible idea: was she getting sicker? Perhaps her fevers were attacking her brain.
“I—I don’t know,” she admitted. “But I need you to find that book for me.”
“Cass,” Falco said, watching her with concern. “I’d better go. You need your sleep.”
“I do not need sleep. I need the Book of the Eternal Rose.” She sighed in frustration. “I know you don’t believe me. Just promise that you’ll at least skim the books in the library for me.” She should have gone through them the night of the party, headache or no. Even if she did feel strong enough to make it to the library, she might not get a chance with Piero watching over her at all hours of the day.
Falco nodded. “Fine. I’ll look for your book. And I’ll come visit you again tomorrow night.” He placed a hand on her head, and then pressed his lips to her cheek again. “I promise.”
This time, when she slept, she dreamt of Falco.
Madalena and Siena came to visit early the following day. Cass had just taken another draught of pain medicine, so when Mada glided into the room in a brilliant blue dress with a matching hat and gloves, Cass blinked hard, wondering momentarily whether her friend was a vision. But then Siena and Eva followed, hanging back from the bed as Madalena approached with a pitiful look on her face.