Maria’s eyes blazed, and she opened her mouth to protest. Marco cut her short.
“Look, you think I want my brother going up there? You think we’re in any better shape than Caesare is in this town? I don’t know what you know about us, Maria, but we got as much or more to lose by this. I don’t know if Caesare’s let on about us, but—”
God, God, the chance! But they owed Caesare more than they could pay.
“Look at me—believe me, Maria. If Brunelli—any of ’em—ever found out about me and Benito, we’d—we’d wish we were dead, that’s all. We know things too, and we got nobody but Caesare keeping us from getting gobbled up like sardines. Caesare they got reasons to keep alive—us—well, you can figure out how much anybody’d miss two kids. So trust me, the risk’s a lot more on our side; if he gets worse, it’s the only way to save him.”
“Damn it, Marco—” she started; then sagged, defeated by his earnestness and her own fear and worry. “All right. Yeah, I pretty much know about your situation. Hell, though—what you’ve been doing—I dunno why we’d need a real doctor. You’re as good a doctor as I ever seen—”
“Like bloody hell I am!” he snapped, more harshly than he intended. He saw Maria wince away, her expression chilling, and hastily tried to mend the breach.
“Look—I’m sorry, I didn’t mean that the way it sounded. Maria, I’m scared too—for all of us.” He managed half a smile, when he saw the hard line of her lips soften. “And you just—stepped on a sore toe, that’s all. See, I’d give my arm to be able to go to the Accademia, to learn to be a doctor. And I’ve got about as much chance of that as your gondola has of flying.” He sighed. “That’s the problem with having things get better, I guess. When I didn’t have anything, I didn’t want things, because I knew I’d never get ’em. But now I got a little, seems like I want more. Things I’ve got no chance for.”
He hadn’t really expected Maria to understand. But to his surprise, she gave a little wistful glance back toward the bedroom, sighed, and nodded. “I reckon we both got a notion how that feels,” she agreed. “But—I dunno, Brunelli—he’s a shark—that doctor could just as easy poison Caesare as cure him.”
“So I just gave you what to do in the worst case, hey? Worry about that when the time comes. Caesare’s luck with skinning through, he’ll be all right. But if not—I’ll tell you now—you might just as well chance poison, ’cause if you want Caesare alive, you get him a real doctor as soon as he starts getting worse—if he does, before I make it back.”
“Back? From where?” She only now seemed to realize that he wasn’t planning on staying.
“I told you, I know this fever. I had it once, too. And Caesare needs more’n what we can get from the drug-shop. So I’m going to get the medicine he needs—the one place here I know I can—where I got what saved me. The place I spent the last two years. The marsh.” He smiled crookedly at her stunned expression.
“How are you going get there?” She stammered. “I—”
“I said you had to stay here, didn’t I? And keep Benito here to help when he gets back. I’ll get in the same way I did the last time. Walk. Or swim. The tide is out and I know the channels. I should do. I lived there for long enough.”
Chapter 13
“You’re not going out again!”
Not for the first time, or even the thousandth time, Katerina Montescue wondered what had possessed her brother Alfredo to marry Alessandra. And why he had to die and leave Kat to cope with the silly shrewish bitch, who never thought beyond her clothes or belladona-widened eyes. Except for finding new ways to snipe at everyone and boast about her high-born family connections.
Kat took a deep breath. “Yes.” She volunteered not one word more.
Alessandra looked at the dowdy rough-spun woolen hooded cloak Katerina put on over her plain gray twill. She sniffed disapprovingly. “I’m surprised your lover will let you wear things like that! It’s not even clean.”