The Plague Doctor's Daughter

16. Nicco

Nicco had much better things to do than search the city high and low for his betrothed. Yet after being turned away from Palazzo Michiel when he made the unannounced call, that is exactly what he ended up doing.

The doorman had been polite, but blunt. Signora Ottavia had gone to the morning's market, and he did not know when she intended to return.

The market! The simpleness of it offended the doge's son. No wife of his should have been scouring vendor stalls for the best deals on carrots or cumin, even if they weren't yet married. Everything she did reflected on him, and there were servants for such tasks. Nicco could not imagine why she would stoop to such levels.

Cutting across the Campo Santi Apostoli, Nicco took the usually five minute walk at record pace. His cloak billowed behind him as he crossed over minor tributaries and sped through narrow alleys. Most people along the way gave him deference, whether from recognition or just for the determination on his face. He was a man on a mission, determined to both talk sense into his bride and prevent her from such foolishness in the future.

Nicco's initial reasons for wanting to see Ottavia that morning had been much simpler. Seeking to waste no time, he had brought confirmation that their wedding date had been set. In five short weeks, on the Tuesday after Easter, they would celebrate their union. Whatever she wanted to arrange—a custom gown, imported flowers, or the best chefs—needed to be secured by then. Although his father would spare no expense, he would not accept postponement.

Yet, here he was, delayed by a silly girl out on market day.

Arriving at the foot of the lone bridge across the Grand Canal, Nicco was already displeased. His mood continued to sour with each increasing minute he had to spend at the Rialto among the wafting odor of fish, the annoying chatter of peasants, and the disgusting puddles of filth. Stopping to hold a kerchief against his nose, but finding it to be of no help against the smells, Nicco grimaced. His search would not be easy. In fact, he had no idea even where to start. Ottavia could have been anywhere, perusing any of the dozens of stalls set up on either side of the embankment or on the stone arch bridge. With two arcades of shops fronting three separate paths across the canal, they could easily pass each other without even realizing it.

He was such a fool. A doge's son—a man both feared and respected by most in this city—out hunting for his wife-to-be among the rabble. He should have given up right then and there, but the task actually gave him a much needed challenge. So many things came easily to Nicco Grimani that he sometimes found small pleasures in otherwise wearisome tasks. Whether his prey was a roe deer in the Casentinesi forest or a petite maiden in the Rialto market, it mattered not. He could use his skills of deduction and strategy to effectively bag either.

With a renewed purpose and will, Nicco took a figurative step back. What did he know of his betrothed that would now help him pinpoint her whereabouts?

In truth, not much. At nearly half his age, Ottavia also came from a well-off family in which she'd lost her mother and grew up in the shadows of a powerful father, but that was where the similarities ended. Because while Nicco spent his days negotiating with foreign merchants, inspecting exotic wares, and bribing the right officials, she probably practiced her skills on the harpsichord, embroidered intricate floral patterns onto pillows, and planned elaborate dinner parties.

That was it! Ottavia must have wanted to throw a celebratory get-together of her own to mark their engagement. Women did such things, did they not? With only her closest friends and confidants present, she could share her deepest feelings and get intimate advice on preparing for wife-hood.

But what would such an event entail? Surely flowers would be needed for the decor, wine for the goblets, and the freshest produce for the plates. Nicco grimaced. All of that and more was available in the market, so he was no closer to finding Ottavia than before. He had no choice, but to walk the stalls and hope he'd get lucky.