“Do you take this man?” Vittorio tossed to Katarina, but she’d gone under again.
“She does, and I take her. Get to the end, Father,” I prompted him.
He shook his head, crossing himself again, and nodded.
“In the power vested in me by God, I pronounce you man and wife. You may kiss the bride, if you can,” Vittorio said.
I looked down at my sleeping angel. My little stray, scrappy and determined and so full of stubborn, relentless hope, she shone.
I leaned forward, raising her face toward mine, and pressed a kiss to her forehead.
It was chaste. Respectful... the only concession I could give considering I’d just married her without her knowledge. I was the devil she’d always accused me of being, and I couldn’t bring myself to care. Not now that I had her in my arms and our names together on a registry. I’d do it again, to keep her.
31
MASSIMO
Paolo was waiting at the door when I carried Katarina into the townhouse I kept in Torino’s old town. The hallway was as dark and atmospheric as if I’d stepped through a portal into the seventeenth century.
Frescoes painted the walls, angels and demons battling for the fate of the world. The heavy marble banisters gleamed in the light from the antique sconces on the walls. This place had been a few days away from being torn down when I’d bought it. It was a relic, a gorgeous, fading one, and I’d decided to restore it instead of watching it crumble.
Now it was dark, and Gothic. Beautiful in a way that spoke to my damaged soul. Could my angel live here in the dark with me? Only time would tell.
There were four spacious levels, and my rooms were on the very top. The view of the city from the balcony was stunning. I carried Katarina up the stairs to the fourth floor, with Paolo trailing behind us.
“Is there anything the lady would like to make her more comfortable?” he asked, hurrying behind us.
“I will attend to her,” I told him quickly. The thought of my old housekeeper providing anything at all for Katarina riled me in a way I couldn’t explain. It went beyond mere possessiveness.
I reached the top floor and carried her through the expansive dressing rooms and opulent bathroom into the huge bedroom. A enormous four-poster bed with ornately carved posts dominated the room, which was hung with dark-red velvet curtains. A large mirror leaned against one wall, its glass shadowed with time but still catching the light in patches. Now I saw myself holding Katarina, a dark specter with an innocent maiden. Her awful white dress was bloodstained here and there, adding to the effect that I was a devil come to carry my stolen bride off to hell.
I advanced into the room, turning away from the mirror. I didn’t need the reminder of what I was right now.
I set her down on the bed. The mural on the wall depicted a fair-haired maiden in a meadow with a shadowy robed figure on a black horse approaching. The meadow where the maiden sat was warm and bright, but the approach of the rider held a spreading darkness, and the painting behind him was altogether different.
It was only early evening, but suddenly I was exhausted. Since the fire, I’d done nothing but worry about this woman. Now that she was here, safe, in my grip, all the fight went out of me. It was a strange feeling, and one I’d never experienced before.
If I’d been more naive, I might have thought it was contentment, but I knew that didn’t belong to a man like me.
I stripped off the dreaded priest’s robe finally, and threw it in the corner, then moved to Katarina’s clothes. The bloodstained wedding dress was a macabre sight. I didn’t want another man’s blood touching her skin. I didn’t want another man’s anything touching what was mine.
I cut the dress, turning it into simple strips that could easily bepeeled off her. Her underwear was the same threadbare, grayish cotton kind she’d worn at Hallow Hall. I left it on her. When she woke, if she didn’t know me, she’d be scared, and this woman had had enough of being scared to last a lifetime.
There’d be time to dress her in the finest silks and laces. Time to give her all the things her hard life had denied her.
First, I had to wait until she came back to me.
I tucked her under the heavy comforter and slid in next to her. I pulled her into my arms, breathed in the smell of her, and finally, slept.
The soundof metal rattling woke me. It was a quiet rattle. Careful. I opened my eyes before I moved so I could take my little stray in and see what she was doing before she realized she’d woken me.
Morning light streamed in the windows. I’d slept right through. It was unheard of.
Katarina stood at the door, carefully turning the knob this way and that, trying to get it to open.
“It’s locked,” I called to her, my voice rough with sleep.
She jumped. She’d wrapped a blanket from the couch around herself, and she nearly dropped it.