“I’m sorry. I’m sure they didn’t mean it,” he said humbly.
Kat smiled broadly. “I’m sure they did!” she said. “And they were right too, but I promise, not to you.”
Marco had put two and two together. “Um. The girl you sent the message to Benito with. You haven’t seen her, have you? We’re looking for her.”
* * *
Ah. So that was Maria. “Yes,” said Kat, thinking back to the driving rain of last night. After her experience in the church she’d given up taking shelter. “But not today.”
“She went missing yesterday,” said Marco. “Caesare is worried sick.”
“Who is this ‘Caesare’?” asked Kat carefully.
He smiled again, and it did odd things to her insides. “Oh, sorry. Caesare Aldanto. Her . . . her boyfriend.”
Relief was like the sun coming out. “She’s not your girlfriend, then?”
He looked surprised. “Maria? She’s crazy about Caesare. She wouldn’t even look twice at me.” He looked slightly sheepish. “Um, I . . . I’m not involved with anyone right now.”
“Well, I’m not either.” There. What an opening. “Although I have had several suitors.” That seemed important to say too.
“I’m not surprised,” he said warmly. “But about Maria. When did you last see her? We . . . we’ve had word she’s a prisoner somewhere.”
Kat cocked her head, put a finger to her jaw. “It was long after Vespers, but before midnight. Maybe a hundred yards from the Casa Dandelo. I . . . wanted to ask her about Benito. But it was raining too hard.”
“I’d better go and tell Caesare. Why did you want to see Benito? I can give him a message.”
“Oh . . . I, um, just wanted him to get hold of a friend of his for me,” said Kat airily. “It’s all right now. How about I take you to where I saw her?”
“You haven’t got other work to do?” asked Marco. “I want to talk to you, but if you’ve got work . . .”
Her heart warmed. He was an ordinary working man, after all. And a considerate one. She wished the Montescue could somehow sponsor him to do what he should be doing: medical studies. Already he was worth six of any Case Vecchie scion-doctors she’d ever met. But unless her father came home laden with half the jewels of the Indies, there was no way. Casa Montescue limped on from day to day as it was. Extra expenses just couldn’t be borne. Only yesterday her grandfather had said to her that he didn’t know how they’d have managed without her. “No. Nothing this evening. I’d be happy to help.”
They rowed along and Kat found that conversation was as easy as breathing. It was obviously his interest, so she led him to talk about medicine. The more he talked, the more Kat decided that her first look had led her unerringly. He wasn’t—unlike most of the elderly roués at the occasional functions the Casa Montescue still attended—at all inclined towards over-the-line flattery and flirtation. Instead he talked with passion about medicine. About what could be done.
“By the way—how do you know that this Maria is definitely alive?” she asked, as they neared the Casa Dandelo.
Marco pursed his lips. “Well, you wouldn’t know him but we went to see Luciano Mariana—”
“But I do know him! He was my tutor! But—he went away, years ago. I was afraid he was dead.”
Marco pauses. “Um. Well. They say he’s just got back from Jerusalem. I know him well, too, from—from earlier. I owe him my life in part. Anyway, he’s—ah—good at divining. And he says she’s alive, a prisoner and surrounded by water. We’ve got half the town looking for her.”
Kat pointed to the mess of heavily barred old buildings, isolated on their own islet across the Rio della Crea. “Casa Dandelo. That’s where she’ll be. Nobody knows what happens there.”
Marco pulled a wry face. “You don’t have any contacts?”
She shook her head emphatically. “I’d sooner sell black lotos,” she said with distaste.
“Yes. It’s a disgrace to the Republic,” said Marco grimly.
She got the feeling that if he were the Doge for a day, the Casa Dandelo would be among the first festering sores to go. “Come on, let’s go find Benito and this Caesare.”