The Plague Doctor's Daughter

34. Giovanna

"No, thank you," Giovanna said, standing to rebuke the procurator's son eye-to-eye as much as to stretch her cramped legs. "We're quite capable without—"

"Ignore her," Dilara interrupted, jumping to attention and nearly knocking her out of the way. "We need all the help you will offer. What's the plan?"

Matteo grinned, even as Giovanna rolled her eyes and turned away.

She wanted to think that her reaction was because she considered him insufferable, but that was a lie. In reality, every moment she spent looking at his handsome face brought her closer to forgetting how much he'd hurt her. But that couldn't happen again. Because if she wavered and risked her heart once more, he'd likely trample it to a bloody pulp. That's certainly how it felt even as it continued to beat faster and faster in her chest in his presence.

A sharp whistle made her turn back, just in time to see a couple round the corner. Darkness was falling fast, but as they neared, their features became clearer. The young man with the chin-length, tousled hair and an equally carefree gait was definitely of noble birth by the looks of his clothes and the weapon at his side. The masked lady on his arm—dressed in fine silks under her wool cloak—had a similar air about her. When they stopped in front of Matteo and exchanged familiar greetings, her suspicions were seemingly confirmed.

"I present to you: my plan," Matteo said, motioning toward the newcomers. "Don Simone Falier has graciously allowed his bride-to-be to assist with a simple, but brilliant deception."

"Don Falier," Giovanna said with a courteous bow of her head.

"Call me Simone for we are both close confidants of this ruffian," he said, playfully slapping Matteo on the back. "And any friend of Matteo's is a friend of mine."

"We are not friends. We merely had an arrangement to provide mutual assistance to each other when no one else could. That is all," she snapped, wondering how much of their intimate relationship Matteo had shared with his bosom friend. From the sheepish grin on Simone's face, it was likely considerable.

"Oh? I must have been mistaken. Forgive me," Simone said, glancing at Matteo with a cocked brow as the other shrugged. Turning back to Giovanna, he continued. "So it is this arrangement that brings us here."

"Very well," Giovanna said with a resigned sigh. "Tell us what we are to do."

"You do nothing," Matteo spoke up again, stepping forward. "Clara here will bear the brunt of the work, but if it all goes well, it should be a seamless exchange of identities."

"How?" asked Dilara, drawing attention to herself for the first time since the couple's arrival.

Simone turned toward the girl almost obsessively clinging to his arm. "My dear?"

After removing her mouthless mask that made it impossible to speak, Clara smoothed out an errant lock that fell out of her crown of braids. Younger and smaller in stature than Giovanna, her eyes were ringed with signs of sleeplessness and her cheeks still bore pink blotches from crying.

"I am to seek refuge in the convent, having missed the last rowboat back to the main island before curfew," she said. "Once I am left alone with Ottavia, we will switch clothes and wait until an hour before sunrise. That is when Simone will demand that I be released to him, and Ottavia—in my guise—will leave with him unhindered. By the time the sun rises and the sisters discover the ruse of being left with the wrong girl, Ottavia will be safely on the Turks' ship."

"Good," Simone said with a smile, approvingly patting her hand.

Matteo's face displayed more worry as he puckered his lips in contemplation. "And if they ask why you were on Giudecca alone?" he asked, leaving nothing to chance.