Eric Flint - The Shadow of the Lion

"Nothing more!?" choked Kat. "It's still a marriage, Francesca! And?" She choked again. Then, in a whisper: "Pregnant? By Marco?"

Francesca shrugged. "That seems to be the assumption. Myself, I wouldn't?"

"That bastard!" shrilled Kat. "That?"

"Katerina!"

The sharpness in Francesca's tone jolted her. "Yes?"

The courtesan was frowning. "Before you get too carried away with your own self-righteousness… A question: Did you ever tell this young man exactly who you were?"

Kat's face closed down. "No."

"Why not?"

After a moment, between tight lips: "Because."

Francesca chuckled dryly. "Ah, right. 'Because.' Oh, you Venetian Case Vecchie! How quick you are to condemn others for your own sins."

Kat couldn't meet that sarcastic gaze. "My grandfather…" she whispered, trying to summon up a protest.

" 'Your grandfather,' " mimicked Francesca. "And you think Marco Valdosta isn't also thinking of a grandfather? A grandfather in a desperate position of his own, you know. Which an alliance with Casa Dorma in Venice would go a long way toward improving."

But Kat was in no mood to be calm and objective, much less charitable. "It's because she's pregnant," she hissed. "That bastard. Telling me?while he was?with her?"

"Go home, Kat," said Francesca wearily. "I'm tired, and you are obviously not willing to think. If you were, you might realize?"

"I'm not listening to any more!" snapped Kat, jumping to her feet. "I hate him!" She rushed for the entrance.

"Don't slam the door on your?"

Kat slammed the door on the way out.

Ugo Boldoni's poor little church was thinly attended for Lauds. It was not hard for him to spot an extra person in a hooded cloak, who waited until his early morning parishioners had left. He went back into the church where Katerina was waiting.

"And now, Katerina?" he asked the white-faced young woman who was standing chewing her lip, looking at the ground.

Katerina half-mumbled the next words. "Ugo, you're the only priest that I've known since we were both children… I need to find something out. I need to find out if someone is getting married."

Father Boldoni shrugged. "The banns will be read."

Kat shook her head. "I need to know now. I need to know… is… Marco Valdosta marrying Angelina Dorma?

"Not in my parish."

"Oh." Kat took another deep breath. "Well, can you find out for me? Please. I need to know now. Please."

Ugo took pity on her. "As it happens, I was at the palace of the Metropolitan only yesterday. Having a meeting about witchcraft?with Senor Eneko Lopez, as it happens, that Basque priest who seems to terrify everyone." He chuckled dryly. "I'll admit he somehow manages to be, simultaneously, one of the most frightening and inspiring men I've ever met. In the course of it, Lord Petro Dorma did come in to make some enquiries about the marriage of his sister. Soon."

"To… whom? And… and they're getting married in a hurry? W-why?" she faltered.

Ugo shrugged again. "I am the priest of a poor parish. They didn't confide in me. But I imagine for the usual reasons, Katerina. Is she a friend of yours?" Then the thought struck him. "Or?is he? I thought the Valdosta name was bad word with the Casa Montescue."

"I hate both of them," said Kat between clenched teeth and stormed out, not even genuflecting to the altar as she left.

Before Kat went back to her bed there was one last job to do. She stopped at Giaccomo's and left a brief note, before going home. Her chin was held high.

Marco sat, patiently. Well, impatiently. Kat had always been on time. Unlike Angelina. He'd only been a couple of weeks in Casa Dorma, and her attitude to time was already grating him. Almost everything was held up slightly for Angelina. She'd be late for her own funeral. Kat?he got the feeling?wouldn't ever be late without reason.

So Marco sat and sipped his wine, making it last.

And Kat just never showed. He waited. He had to talk to her. Petro was doing his best not to be impatient, but well, the days of Angelina's pregnancy were ticking past. You could claim a six-month child but not less than that.

It was quarter to twelve, and Marco was about to abandon hope, when Maria came in. Marco had "dressed down" for the occasion but still his appearance caused Maria to snort?half derision, half admiration. "Mighty smart. Mighty fine," she said dryly. "Where's the young girl sitting on your knee, Marco Valdosta?"

Marco blushed. "I was waiting for Kat. But not to sit down on my knee. I… I have to talk to her."

Maria smiled. "Well, she sent you a note. Which is why I'm here instead of in my bed. See. Them?those?reading lessons are paying off. I can manage your name at least. I just picked it up at Giaccomo's. Figured you'd be here tonight."

Of course. He'd known he could rely on Kat. And to send him a note to explain was just like her. A world apart from Angelina. Angelina only seemed good at thinking of herself. No worries about that with Kat.

Maria could see worries were weighing on the boy. But he lightened up with that scroll… Kat was good for him. And they were both Case Vecchie now. Funny, it did far more than a year's living with Caesare had done to convince Maria that nobles were just human too. Because, if she had it right, Marco's blood ought to be blue. She'd seen it. It was definitely just ordinary red. Maria watched as Marco cracked the wafer. Unrolled the scroll.

And she watched his face change… Marco had a very open face. First surprise. Then hurt. And then his face closed down. He rolled the scroll up again and stood up.

"I'm probably getting married in the next few days," he said abruptly.

Maria felt as if her eyes would pop out. "What! To Kat?"

"To Angelina Dorma." His voice was expressionless.

Maria floundered. "But… but…" Those Dorma bastards wanted to lock him in! Well, she owed Kat. "That's far too soon, Marco," she said, firmly. Her mind raced. She'd have to get Benito in on this. The damn scamp didn't approve of Kat, for some stupid reason. But anything?anything!?was better than Angelina. Even if she had to tell Benito that Kat was also Case Vecchie. He'd been pestering her to reveal the identity of her posh friend…

"I can't. She's nearly four months pregnant," said Marco, woodenly.

Maria caught her jaw. "Ah…who's the father?" she croaked.

Marco paused. Looked her straight in the eye. "I am," he said in a dead level voice.

And he turned and walked out.

Petro Dorma looked grim. "I'm sorry, Marco. Only the Signori di Notte knew, until an hour before. That means somehow someone must have bought one of them. But the Badoero were gone."

Marco felt flattened. Caesare's ploy hadn't worked. Caesare had been sure if Petro could arrest the Badoero they'd confess, quickly enough to tell just whom the real go-between was. He had ascribed Angelina's accusation to spite.

"Of course Paulo knew the way here. He was Ernesto Dorma's confidential runner. I did some business with Ernesto. Commercial information. Valuable if not glamorous. And for heaven's sake, yes. Marry Angelina Dorma," he'd said. His words were fresh in Marco's mind.

Petro sighed. "Well, we're no closer, Marco. We still don't know how my mother got the stuff?even if we know where she used to. You don't feel you could just…"

"Marry Angelina now," said Marco quietly. "Yes."

Petro breathed a sigh of relief. "Well. Thank you, Marco. I can't deny I am pleased… She always was father's favorite. We lost my other sister in the plague… And 'Gelina got… rather spoiled by Mother too after that. She's used to getting her own way. But, well, she'll be handsomely dowered. And we'll be happy to have you as part of the family."