“Is it worth it, Carlo—this bland English rose?” Giovanni taunted as Charles walked to the door. “Their blooms quickly wilt, you know. Wouldn’t you be better off going home and finding a sturdy Italian girl whose fruit won’t rot on the vine?”
Charles scowled. “I’ve long given up questioning your choices, Giovanni, I’ll thank you to not question mine.”
“Such arrogance.” Giovanni shook his head weakly.
“Not nearly as much as yours.” Charles spat.
“And, so, you’ll leave your brother here to die without so much as a kind word or prayer?” Giovanni sighed.
“You—you’ll never die. Not in my lifetime. And, even when your body expires, brother, your evil will live on forever.”
With that, Charles quietly opened the door and crept into the hallway, finding a small recess into which he could tuck himself while he waited.
From the floor above, Charles could hear the irritated voice of the younger Marie—clearly annoyed by Nellie’s intrusion.
“Why don’t you tell her yourself, then?” Young Marie growled. “The sickness of some Italian doesn’t bother me none!”
“I can’t,” Nellie lied. “Your mother is entertaining guests. It would be wrong of me to interrupt. But, you—you’re your mother’s equal—she wouldn’t mind if you intruded.”
“I am her equal,” Young Marie said, clearly pleased by the thought.
“Besides,” Nellie continued. “To have a man die in your house would bring unwelcome attention. We don’t want that. Do we?”
“No.” Young Marie replied. “Fine, you go on back to the man and I’ll fetch Mama.”
“Thank you,” Nellie said sheepishly.
Charles heard Nellie’s footsteps on the stairs. She swept past him as she walked to Giovanni’s room and as she did she whispered. “It’s done.” Charles could see her scowl and the pinch of her scars. He shivered as he thanked her. And, then a thought occurred to him.
“You’d best hide yourself, too.”
Nellie turned quickly. “Of course.” She paused. “You’re not a bad man. Are you?”
Charles shook his head.
Nellie changed courses, slipping into a nearby door. “I’ll wait in the larder. Thank you.”
“Thank you, Nellie.”
He held his breath as Young Marrie rushed down the stairs. Luckily, she took a turn to the left at the corridor and went into the front room, by-passing the nook in which Charles had hidden himself.
Loud voices from the front room showed Charles that Marie and company were not pleased by the intrusion. However, Charles quickly heard Iolanthe’s curious coo—intrigued and probably aroused by the thought of a dying man.
The door to the front room opened and Charles heard Ulrika grumble. “I’ve seen men die. I’ll wait here and reacquaint myself with my former maid.”
Charles pushed his body further against the wall as he listened to the footsteps of the three women—the two called Marie, and Iolanthe hurry toward Giovanni’s room. As the door closed behind them, he exhaled and hurried toward the front room, flinging open the door.
With one swift motion, he grabbed Barbara’s arm.
“Thank God!” Barbara gasped. “Hurry, they’ll be back in a moment and that man is in the room next to us.”
“What’s this?” Ulrika chirped.
“Shut up,” Charles snarled.
“That was unwise.” Ulrika shook her head. “Marie,” she shouted. “Louis! You’ve been tricked!”
Meanwhile, in the apartment above the Routhe’s dress shop, Mama Routhe brought a cup of tea to Mr. Punch as he explained the scheme that he and Julian had secretly concocted to Adrienne, Robert and Marjani.
“Not until you’ve rested a bit. You’ve had a rough time.” Adrienne said softly.
“Time is the problem, Lady Chum.” Punch shook his head. “We ain’t got a lot of it. Now, you know it were Nellie what took little Colin. You say she’s loathe to return to Iolanthe. Where else could she have gone but to Marie Laveau? We gotta get to them before them witches…”
He paused as they heard a knock at the door.
“Dear God, what now?” Robert groaned.
Did you miss Chapters 1-294? If so, you can read them here.
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