Free The Contessa's Vendetta by Mirella Sichirollo Patzer Page A

even merry. He wandered in the moonlight joyous-hearted, while I had expected to find him shut in his rooms grieving. We women are such fools when we love a man.
    A terrible thought struck me. Had he gone mad? Had the shock and grief of my unexpected death affected his mind? I shuddered at the thought. Bending apart the boughs behind which I hid, I looked out. Two figures were walking towards me; my husband and my best friend, Beatrice Cardano.
    There was nothing unusual about seeing them together. Beatrice was like a sister to me. It was her duty to console Dario over my loss. But I saw much more than that. His arm was around her shoulder and she leaned against him for support.
    A n angry curse threatened to break from my lips. Death and the horrors of the vault were nothing compared to the anguish that coursed through me. To this day, the memory of that moment burns in my mind like an inextinguishable fire.
    My hands clenched into fists in an effort to beat back my bitterness. I fought to restrain the ferocious rage that awoke within me and I forced myself to remain motionless and silent in my hiding-place.
    I observed their betrayal! I witnessed my honor stabbed to death by those whom I most trusted, and still I remained silent. Beatrice and Dario came so close to my hiding-place that I could hear every word they uttered and watch their every gesture.
    They paused within three steps of me , his arm still around her shoulder and hers around his waist. She rested her head on his shoulder just as I had done with Dario a thousand times. She wore a pure white gown except for the blood red rose at her breast fastened with a diamond pin that flashed in the moonlight. How I wished it were blood instead of a rose at her breast. How I wished it was a stiletto that jabbed into her body instead of a diamond pin that pierced her gown.
    But I had no weapon . I could only stare at them, dry-eyed and mute. Dario looked handsome as ever, exceptionally so. No trace of grief marred his fine-looking features. His eyes were as clear and gentle as ever. His lips were parted in that fetching smile that was so endearing, so trustworthy. I heard him speak in the old enchanting tone of his low voice that made my heart leap and my brain reel.
    “ Foolish Beatrice!” he said with amusement. “What would have happened, I wonder, if Carlotta had not fortunately died.”
    I held my breath as I awaited the answer.
    Beatrice laughed carelessly. “She would never have discovered anything. You were too clever for her, Dario. Besides, her conceit saved her. She had such a high opinion of herself that she would not have deemed it possible for you to love any other woman.”
    My husband, that paragon of manhood, sighed restlessly. “I am glad she is dead! But we cannot be careless, Beatrice. We must not be seen together yet. The servants will talk! I must go into mourning for at least six months...and there are many other things to consider.”
    Beatrice ’s hand played with the jeweled necklace she wore, a favorite of mine.
    He bent and kissed the location on her neck just above the pendant. Ah, my dear husband, do not let your conscience prevent your enjoyment, I thought as I crouched behind the trees, the wrath inside me making the blood beat in my head like a hundred drums.
    “ No, my love,” she replied to him. “It is a pity Carlotta is dead! Alive, she made an excellent screen. She was an unaware guardian of propriety for both of us, as no one else could be.”
    The boughs that covered me creaked and rustled. My husband looked uneasily about.
    “ Hush!” he said, nervously. “She was buried only yesterday.”
    “ And her ghost could be about, especially on this path. I wish we had not come here. It was her favorite place to walk.”
    “ She was the mother of my child. We must think of that, too,” Dario added with a slight tone of regretfulness.
    “ You don’t think I know that?” Beatrice exclaimed. “I curse her for every kiss she