Free [Barbara Samuel] Night of Fire(Book4You) by Unknown Page A

here in the dark, brooding? Go dance!"
    He shook his head. "I am content to watch."
    "She is beautiful, your woman."
    "She is not my woman," he said more harshly than he intended, and gentled it. "Only my good friend."
    The old woman's eyes shined, dark and wide, and Basilio saw the beauty she'd once been. "Friend!" she cried with the frankness of the elderly. "Pah!"
    He smiled reluctantly, trying to remember her name. "Yes, friend. We have written letters for a long time.
    She only came to visit, to see the countryside. Next, she goes to Venice."
    Just then, a little boy with a headful of thick black curls tugged at Cassandra's skirts. She swooped down and picked him up, swinging him around, her hair and skirts swirling out around her. The boy laughed and put his hands on her face. She kissed the fingers lightly, easily, and that single gesture slayed him.
    Basilio put his head in his hands. "She is only my friend," he said.
    The old woman—her name suddenly came to him, Lucia—put her hand softly on his back and said nothing.
    Dawn hovered at the horizon before they made their way back. Despite his best intentions Basilio had drunk a lot of wine, as had Cassandra, but there was no danger. The horses knew the way, and ambled up the road in the damp. Fog wisped around their feet and tangled in the forest branches.
    "Should we have stayed out so long?" Cassandra whispered as the villa came into view. "Will bandits leap from the trees and slit our throats?" She rode close, challenge and mischief on her mouth, a boldness he had not seen before lighting her eyes.
    He laughed. "They are all asleep!"
    "I love your village, Basilio," she said with a happy sigh, "I plan to write a lovely essay about the festival."
    "You must send it to me."
    "Will you write about it, too? Oh, how could you resist it? All those little girls with red ribbons!"
    And a boy whose fingers she'd kissed. "I am so pleased you enjoyed it."
    "I think," she said with that exaggerated tilt of the head that spoke of a little too much wine, "that it was the best night I've ever known."
    "The best ever?"
    "Yes." She met his gaze, and he wondered which of them was the more reckless now.
    Wickedly, he tested that recklessness. "Better than a wedding night?"
    "Oh, that!" She waved her hand. "No, I did not care for that."
    She had never written or spoken one word of her husband, and Basilio suddenly wondered why. "You do not speak of your husband. Are you so sorrowful that he died?"
    She made an unladylike noise. "No! He was awful. I hated him."
    He was glad, and then, conversely, jealous. "You're a woman now, and can choose the next one freely.
    It will be better."
    "Are you fishing, sir?"
    "Fishing?"
    She smiled, a sly glitter in her eyes. "Asking if I have one in mind."
    "Oh. No." He frowned. "Do you?"
    She laughed. "No. I'm a most happy widow, and will never marry. Not ever. Marriage, for women, is a prison."
    "Not all marriages."
    "Well, my sister is content, I admit. But I do not value contentment." There was a stubborn set to her mouth. "I value freedom. And bravery. And tonight, I have both!"
    "Are you drunk, Cassandra?"
    "A little. Enough that I will have a headache tomorrow, I think." She inclined her head. "Are you shocked?"
    "No." He was besotted.
    "I do not allow it very often. But it seems to me that wine was invented so that we might put away all the dark things, all the sad things, all the worrisome things, just for a night. Tonight we all drank too much and danced and laughed too hard. Your villagers have the way of it. In my world, drunkenness is common, but offers no relief."
    "I think you are right, my Cassandra. Perhaps I should order an evening of drunken revelry once every six months."
    She laughed. "Perhaps I should order it as well—insist my sisters join me once a year for a great feast and dancing. My brother Julian needs to get drunk, I think," she added. "He has a heart that needs mending."
    They were suddenly at the stables. "Here we