The Plague Doctor's Daughter

25. Giovanna

Leading the women a few blocks farther, Matteo eventually turned to a nondescript building with boarded up shutters and a half rotting front door. As he pushed the creaking panel of wood open, the heavy scent of damp and mold escaped. Inside, only the glow of candles on rickety tables helped them find their way around. An elevated counter and several tapped barrels behind it confirmed the place as a tavern. After ordering a round of wine, Matteo directed them to a table in the corner.

"What were you thinking in trying to climb into that convent?" He whispered the question to Giovanna who'd taken the spot across from him.

She leaned forward to deliver the answer just as discreetly. "I wasn't trying to climb in. I was attempting to get someone out."

"That's even more absurd!" he exclaimed, inadvertently raising his voice. Looking around, he checked to see if anyone around had given heed. Satisfied that the handful of the other patrons enjoying their mid-morning ales were too engrossed in their cups to notice, he continued. "Well, tell me everything then."

Giovanna took a deep breath of the foul air, immediately regretting the move. "There isn't much to tell," she said between coughs. "Ottavia Michiel has been unjustly locked inside that convent, and we intend to get her out."

Matteo slowly broke into a giggle, which quickly turned into a hearty chuckle. When his two companions remained indifferent, he stopped. "Oh, you're serious. Forgive me." He cleared his throat. "Michiel. She's the former ambassador's daughter, is she not? Why do you care about her fate?"

"She's my friend," Giovanna said, intently watching Matteo's reaction. When his brows slipped upward in surprise at the revelation that a commoner like her could be in the confidence of a noble-born woman, she swallowed her rebuttal. For now, she needed Matteo to be on her side. A schooling on classism could come later.

Unaware of her internal deliberations, Matteo took a sip of his wine. "I believe she just became engaged, did she not?" he asked as a bead of the red liquid lingered on his top lip. "So her father has decided to play it safe and have the sisters guard her virtue until her wedding day."

Giovanna shook her head, mesmerized in anticipation until his tongue licked off the errant droplet. "Uhm, not her father, but rather her husband-to-be: Niccolo Grimani."

The previous hint of amusement dropped from Matteo's handsome face. Puckering his wet lips in distaste, he drank more of the wine. "I'm afraid in that case, I cannot help you."

"Why ever not?" Giovanna asked, keeping her gaze on his eyes, expecting them to be less distracting. She was proven wrong as soon as his thick lashes fluttered with a blink.

"The Grimanis are not to be trifled with, and I cannot risk anyone getting hurt in this endeavor," he said, thankfully unawares of her silly scrutiny.

"Anyone? Or perhaps you mean yourself?" Giovanna lobbied back the accusation, no longer under his spell and unable to hold back her thoughts. "Because why would you really care about what happens to either of us?"

Matteo slowly fingered the rim of his cup, neglecting to make eye contact with her. "I'm very disappointed, Giovanna. Tis true that we've only known each other for a few days, but I would have hoped you still thought more highly of me."

At that, he looked up. To Giovanna's astonishment, his eyes reflected the same sadness evident in his voice. The revelation was so surprising, she now couldn't muster any response.

"But if you must know," Matteo continued, taking advantage of her silence. "Crossing the Grimani family brings equal peril to everyone. You were there, were you not? Not even a well-connected patrician like Tomaso Delfini is safe."