Oh Kat—
If he even began to know where to find her . . . He’d spent the morning in futile wandering. Asking around. Being treated with Case Vecchie respect. He’d spotted Harrow in the distance, but even attempting to reach him to ask him had failed.
Too late now. He bit his lip and walked up and knelt before the altar.
* * *
Petro Dorma breathed a sigh of relief. He was fond of Angelina. But he was no fool. She was trouble. The last thing he’d ever expected was for her to catch someone who would be of value to Dorma. A nobleman short of money, perhaps. Almost certainly someone who would be a liability to Dorma—like Caesare Aldanto. Marco Valdosta was an innocent, and in some ways Petro felt almost guilty about catching him this way. But he had to look after Angelina. The boy had no idea just how much the name “Valdosta” counted for among the older Case Vecchie.
And among the populace, perhaps even more so. The Valdosta Family was old. True, Marco’s father had been a wild young man, who married an out-of-town Ferrarese woman too involved in politics for her own good. But Luciano, the paternal grandfather, had been enormously popular. And the Dell’este connection . . .
The Old Fox might be in trouble right now, with Venice, Rome, and Milan all wanting his steel works. But he was a cunning old man. Ferrara might just hold its own. The Republic’s Council of Ten, as Petro had reason to know, were warming again towards their one-time ally. Alliances changed. And the Old Fox knew that Dorma’s shipyards needed good steel. And the Dell’este could use an accommodation with the Republic to ship to the east again. If Ferrara survived the gathering condottieri and internal factions, well, then Marco would be rich and powerful. Even if the boy were not old Case Vecchie, Dorma would have welcomed the alliance. Petro just hoped Angelina wouldn’t drive Marco mad with indiscreet, expensive-to-hush affairs.
Petro sighed again. His duty as her brother would be to help out. He settled back in the pew and watched the ceremony. Unlike Marco, he had no qualms about the test of faith. The boy’s goodness was patently obvious. He’d bet the lad had not a hint of a stain on his soul. Unlike himself. When it was over he got up and went to collect Angelina.
To his relief and amazement, she was ready.
* * *
Marco knew his normally excellent memory was . . . having trouble. He was . . . married? Standing accepting congratulations from the Powers-that-be . . . from Lucrezia Brunelli herself. “My, but Angelina caught herself a handsome one,” cooed the legendary beauty, taking his hands in hers. She tickled his palm with one of her fingers. “You look . . . almost familiar. Have I met you before?”
Marco swallowed. Not all the lessons in etiquette had taught him how to deal with this. Yeah, I met you on the back stairs of Casa Brunelli, with you in a fury because you’d failed to seduce Senor Lopez. . . .
Was not the right thing to say. “No, m’lady.”
She laughed. “Come now, Marco! We’re going to be . . . friends, aren’t we? Call me Lucrezia.” Then she continued—in an entirely different tone. “Well, I wish you a happy married life. You and dear Angelina.”
Bishop Capuletti, who had just approached them, looked like he might consider making that a very short life, if he had the opportunity.
Chapter 70
It was about a month after the wedding before Maria finally got a chance to see Kat.
The Arsenal was working flat out. It was always like that, anyway, this time of year. The convoy for the Golden Horn would leave in a week and the last-minute outfitting was still going on. Now, with a war looming, there was additional work getting the navy’s galleys ready.
A couple of cousins waved to Maria as she rowed in with the load of brass nails from Seino’s. “Maria, we need a piece of trompe l’oiel work for the admiral’s cabin fetched from the Botega Giorgione,” said the foreman, when she’d off-loaded. He pulled a sour face. “The admiral sent it back because of the cherubs. So they’ve held it back to the last minute. They’re not punishing Admiral Niccolo. They’re punishing us. But do you think they can see that?”