Tributary (River of Time 3.2 Novella) Read Online Free PDF Page B

Sienese.”
    “On the contrary,” he said. “They went to far greater lengths than the Sienese. Stooped so low it appalled me. Not all of them. But certain men among the Grandi—”
    “I don’t believe it.”
    He sighed and sat back in his chair. “You are free to believe what you wish.”
    She paused. “Why tell me all of this?”
    He took a deep breath and leaned forward, elbows on knees, his hand cupping his cheek. “I know not. Only that…only that I wish for you to understand. To know that at least one Fiorentini understands why I did what I had to—”
    “But you accepted Castello Paratore, lands, as bounty from Lord Forelli,” she said.
    “I’d lost everything, signorina. I had little choice. If I was to begin my life anew, I had to have resources.”
    “Convenient, that,” she said, her tone hardening. “That your oath was to one of the Nine. Someone capable of rebuilding your holdings within a fortnight.”
    “My oath was not traded on future power. Only upon loyalty, whether we be prince or pauper.”
    “I’d wager that none of those boys of your brotherhood became paupers.”
    He hesitated. Was he to be blamed that he’d been born to a powerful merchant rather than a farmer too? “Nay, not all are rich, but none became paupers.”
    “Who are the others? Are there others, yet, who swear fealty to Firenze, but might turn at any moment?”
    He considered her. He could detect no evil intent, but this woman was still considered a potential enemy in Marcello’s keep. “That is not for me to tell.”
    He rose, already feeling as if he’d said too much. “I have only told you what I have so that you might understand what draws a man to make decisions as I have.”
    The maid arrived then, chirping her good morning, a basket of food hanging over her arm, a pitcher of water in her hands.
    With a nod toward Alessandra, Rodolfo turned and strode out of the room, suddenly needing some fresh air.
     
    ***
     
    Lady Betarrini, startlingly tall and blond—like an older version of Lady Evangelia—came around the bed and knelt in her elegant gown at Alessandra’s feet. “Oh, my friend,” she said, taking her hand, “what joy it is to see your recovery. Truly, I’ve prayed day and night for little else.” She smiled and Alessandra tried to hide her surprise. The woman had every one of her teeth! She’d seldom seen a woman of her own mother’s age that looked as well as Lady Betarrini. Proof that the rich truly do have more than we .
    “Thank you,” Alessandra said, remembering her manners, and a little stunned at the lady’s overt friendliness. “You have been most kind in your ministrations. I may have perished if not for you.”
    She smiled again. “I hardly saw to you alone. Gabriella, Evangelia, Rodolfo, Luca…you might say we saw to you as one of our own.”
    Alessandra stiffened. She was not one of them. To even mention it was akin to calling her a traitor, even if the woman had clearly not meant it that way. “Lady Betarrini—”
    “Please, call me Adri.”
    Alessandra paused again. What sort of lady asked to use her Christian name, so soon upon meeting? With a girl half her age and not near her social status? Most strange . “Lady Adri, might I go home this day? I awakened in the night with a terrible headache, but this morning I am nothing but famished.”
    “I believe you,” she said. “But you must take it very slowly, and gradually experiment with movement. Your head suffered a terrible blow.” She lifted her long fingers to Alessandra’s face and hesitated. “May I?”
    Alessandra nodded and the woman moved her face toward the sun streaming through the window and lifted one lid and then the other, studying her eyes. “There is no trace of headache this morning?”
    “Nay.”
    She rose and bent Alessandra’s head forward, examining the wound on her scalp. “That’s not looking half-bad.”
    Alessandra puzzled over her odd wording. Did that mean half-good? “Are you