She moved her arm and his grip relaxed, releasing her as her head went up proudly, daring him to touch her again. ‘I am all right, Aunt Mary,’ she said, smiling at the woman who was clearly concerned for her. ‘It was just a moment of faintness. Perhaps the change from the bright sunlight to darkness?’
It was a weak excuse, of course, for it was not truly dark in the palace, which was a place of colour and sunshine from the many windows high above that gave the grand hall a churchlike feel.
‘It has been very warm today,’ Lorenzo said, his eyes narrowing as he sensed her hostility. What ailed her—and why had she looked at him so oddly for a moment? ‘And I believe it may be cool in here. Please come through to my private chambers, ladies. I believe you may be more comfortable there.’
Lorenzo led the way to another, smaller chamber, which was lavishly appointed with beautiful tiled walls and floors, the colours rich and vibrant. It was furnished with the most exquisite things that Kathryn had ever seen, some of them with a distinctly Byzantine look to them. For surely those silken couches belonged more properly in the harem of an eastern potentate?
‘I have never seen such a lovely room,’ Lady Mary declared, echoing the thoughts Kathryn would not for pride’s sake utter. ‘Where did you find all these lovely things, Signor Santorini?’
‘Some of them were given me in gratitude for saving the life of a precious son,’ Lorenzo told her. His eyes were on Kathryn as he spoke, a mocking gleam deep in their mysterious depths. ‘It was in Granada and the boy was a Moor, the son of a merchant prince—a man whose wealth would make me seem a pauper by comparison.’
‘How interesting,’ Lady Mary said. ‘Pray do tell us more, sir.’
‘It was nothing,’ Lorenzo told her with a fleeting smile, his eyes becoming colder than deep water ice as he saw that Kathryn’s mouth had curled in scorn. ‘I happened to be in the right place at the right time—and the grateful father showered me with gifts of all kinds, some of which you see here.’
‘You must also be a very wealthy man,’ Kathryn said and her tone made it sound like the worst of insults. ‘Might it not have been nobler to refuse the gifts and be satisfied with the pleasure of saving a life?’ Her eyes flashed with green fire, challenging him so clearly that the air seemed to crackle between them.
‘No, no, Kathryn,’ Charles reminded her uneasily. He was afraid she would antagonise the Venetian, and Santorini was his best hope of ever finding his son. Indeed, since they had met, he had been filled with new hope. ‘You must not say such things, my dear. It is not for you to judge these matters.’
‘Kathryn’s fault lies in her ignorance,’ Lorenzo said easily and she saw that there was an amused curl to his mouth. His eyes glinted with ice and she felt her heart catch, for something about him drew her despite herself. ‘To have refused the gifts from such a man after rendering him a significant service would have been to offer him a deadly insult. Had I been unwise enough to do so, he would have thought that I believed he owed me more and would simply have increased the size of his gift—even to beggaring himself, if I demanded it. But of course, your niece could not know anything of the customs, or indeed the pride, that prevails amongst such people.’
He was looking at her as if she were a foolish child!
Kathryn felt as if she were in the hands of her old nurse, being scolded for some childish misdemeanour. He was humiliating her, stripping her to the status of an ignorant girl, making her feel foolish—and she hated him for it. If she had not remembered her promise to Lord Mountfitchet at that moment, she might have given him an honest opinion of his morals, telling him what she thought of his habit of asking a ransom from his victims.
‘I bow to your superior judgement, sir,’ she said, her nails turned inwards to the palms of her hands as she fought her instinct to rage at him. Dickon’s father was relying on his help. It was through him that they might learn something that would lead them to find Dickon. She must remember that, no matter how great her disgust of this man and his trade. ‘Forgive me, I did not know…’
The apology was the hardest she had ever had to make and she tasted its bitterness; she was determined to say nothing more that evening, for it would kill her to be civil to him! She could not know that the look in her eyes and the tilt of her head betrayed her, nor that he found her defiance amusing.
‘No, do not apologise, sweet Madonna,’ he murmured and the mockery in his voice stung her like the lash of a whip. ‘We should be churlish indeed not to forgive such beauty a small mistake of judgement.’
Kathryn inclined her head. Oh, he was so sure of himself, so secure in his position of power and wealth! She would like to wipe that mocking expression from his face and were she alone with him she would do it! But no, she must not let him drive her to further indiscretion. She would behave as befitted an English gentlewoman.
‘I bow to your generosity, sir.’ The look she gave him was so haughty that it would have slain any other man, but he merely smiled and turned his attention to Lord Mountfitchet.
Wine was served and there was a choice of a sweeter wine for the ladies, but Kathryn stubbornly chose the same as he and her uncle drank and nearly gagged on the dryness of it. She took one sip and set the glass down, her irritation mounting as she saw that he had noted her distaste. When they were directed outside to a small courtyard garden, where a table had been set for them, she noticed that he made a small signal to his servant, and when she looked for her wineglass her wine had been changed.
Oh, was there no ending to this torture? Kathryn asked the servant who served her from the many delicious varieties of fish, meat and rice dishes to bring her some water, refusing to be tempted by the wine, which Lady Mary had declared was delicious.
The food was wonderful too. Used to the more heavily spiced dishes her father’s cooks served at home and sickened by the awful food on board ship, she could not resist trying the delicious prawns and unusual fruits and vegetables that were served to her. After each main course a cold ice sherbet was served, which cleared the palate, and the sweet courses included a delicious sticky jelly that she simply could not resist.
‘I see you approve of one of the gifts my friend from Granada sends me from time to time,’ Lorenzo said, smiling at her. ‘You see, as his son grows to a man, his gratitude increases and he will not allow me to forget that he considers me as another son.’
Kathryn had been reaching for another piece of the sticky sweet and her hand froze in mid-air, then withdrew, her eyes darting a glare at him that would have made most men retreat in confusion. His answer was to smile so wolfishly that it sent a chill through her, the flash of white teeth sudden and menacing, as if he would devour her.
‘Please continue to enjoy them, Madonna,’ he told her. ‘It will please my friend mightily to know that his generosity is not wasted. He fears that I do not appreciate it, but now I can tell him quite truthfully that it brought me favour in your eyes.’
‘I am glad that your friend will be pleased,’ Kathryn said and defiantly took the piece of lemon-flavoured sweetmeat that she desired, biting into it with such venom that she saw his eyes flicker with laughter. He enjoyed taunting her! She could see it in his face, but there was nothing she could do, for she was at his mercy. Please God, let this meal be over soon and then, perhaps, she need not ever see him again.
‘I was thinking,’ Charles said, seemingly unaware of the duel going on between Kathryn and their host. ‘I have cudgelled my brains to think of a distinguishing mark that might help you find Richard, sir—but I cannot recall a thing.’
‘Oh, but—’ Kathryn began and then stopped as all eyes turned on her. She shook her head. ‘I cannot be sure that it would still be there.’
‘If you know of something, you should tell us, Kathryn,’ Charles said. ‘I believe you knew Richard better than anyone.’
‘Pray do give me any information you can,’ Lorenzo