From Hell with Love Read Online Free PDF Page B

departed mother, Niccolo actually liked Allegra, Carlo’s soon-to-be wife, as she had quite the sense of humor and was not particularly awful to look at.  The young merchant’s son could appreciate beauty in a woman, even if he would never be allowed to indulge in a more intimate setting with the blonde woman from the North.  As he walked toward the stairs leading down from the roof, hazy memories of Marco’s jests came back to Niccolo.  He laughed when a vision came to his mind, his friend holding bags of grain under his tunic to imitate Allegra’s natural endowments.
    As the memories started to filter into Niccolo’s consciousness, he became uneasy.  He cursed himself for overindulging on the wine and tapped the side of his head as he walked down the stairs.  There was something important that was just out of reach, and when he passed one of the servants, a horrible realization occurred.
    The merchant’s son ran out of the front door in a rush, raising quite the alarm among the servants.
    “Young master, where are you going?” one of the maids shouted, but Niccolo did not have time to talk with the spinster.  He almost knocked over a crate of oranges as he flew down the streets, and he only just missed colliding with a dog by jumping over a barrel.  It was mid-morning in Firenze, so all the streets were packed with merchants and customers trying to get the best deals and sell their wares. 
    Niccolo turned into a side street in an effort to avoid the congestion and had to duck to avoid getting hit by clotheslines stretched across his path.  After a few twists and turns of the serpentine alleyway, Niccolo found himself in an open square.
    “Nico?  What’s the rush?” asked one of the vendors selling his wares as Niccolo sprinted across the marketplace.
    “Can’t talk now, Arturo!  I have to do undo a mistake I don’t remember!” Niccolo said with a wicked smile as he ran past the merchant, who was selling all kinds of cloth and thread from scratchy plain linens to expensive silks.
    “Nico, you’re too much trouble!  Tell your father I’ll get the shipment to him later,” Arturo shouted as he looked back down at his stall.  Niccolo only threw up a hand and glanced backward before waving.
    “You’ll probably see him first!” he shouted, turning back just in time to see a rickety cart holding bags of wheat getting pushed in front of him.  He skidded to a halt, still bumping into the cart, but he was able to maneuver around after a second.
    “Outta the way, kid!” commanded the burly man holding onto the handles, but Niccolo was already off and down another alley.
    After ten more minutes of running, Niccolo finally found his way to the quiet Gherardini estate situated across town from his own.  He gathered his breath and then looked around for some makeshift present he could make for his lady, but figured that she would see right through the ruse.  As a result, Niccolo just walked around the gate and to the back of the house, sighing as he looked at the old tree nearby.
    The merchant’s son scaled the tree just like he had so many times in the past and was soon right outside the window of the second floor.  Due to the heat of the summer sun, the window had been left open, which caused Niccolo to smile.  He crouched, gathering his strength, and then leapt for the opening.  His fingers wrapped around the edge of the windowsill, which was enough for the man to pull himself into the room and land on his ass.
    “You’re allowed to use the front door, Nico,” a harsh voice came from above him.  Niccolo looked up and found himself staring at the hard cheekbones and strong jaw of Antonio Gherardini.  Having been caught red-handed, Niccolo was put into quite the position.
    “I’m guessing you’ve climbed through many windows in your day, Master Gherardini.  I’m sure you know how fun it is…” he said, his face drawn into a wicked smile.  After a moment, Antonio’s face broke into a