The Plague Doctor's Daughter

22. Matteo

Lady Fortuna was not on their side.

"You'll get more of that if ya' dare speak against us," warned one of the assailants when the beating stopped.

"He won't live through the night," another said, taking a few steps closer. "Come before someone finds us here."

Now almost certain that the hoodlums were approaching, Matteo gasped. Running wasn't a good idea earlier, and it sure wasn't a better one now. With just seconds to spare before being discovered, he was left with no alternative.

Pivoting to face Giovanna, he leaned into her body and pinned her against the wall. First placing his hands on her hips, Matteo thought better of it and quickly raised them to cup her face.

"I don't want to do this, but I must," he rattled off what he had meant as a pre-emptive apology, but even to his own ears, it sounded insincere. Not having time to do better, he took a deep breath as if preparing to dive beneath the tepid waves of the lagoon in July. But instead of dipping his head into the water, Matteo did something far more daring as he crushed his lips against Giovanna's.

Initially, she froze—her shoulders relaxing and her limp arms falling to her sides. This close, her skin smelled of sage and woodsmoke, and Matteo gladly breathed in her scent before remembering that he had no business gaining enjoyment from the situation. But even as the seconds slowly ticked by, he couldn't deny the pleasure he felt at the gentle warmth of her exhales against his nose or the salty taste of tears on her soft lips. Only when the initial shock had warn off and Giovanna attempted to resist did guilt wash over him once more.

"Look at the little trollop struggle!" said one of the men with a laugh at the sight of her arms flailing against Matteo's firm hold.

"Maybe we should take care of 'em too, just in case—," whispered another in a more sinister tone, making Matteo press against the Giovanna even more to better sell the charade of unaware, passionate lovers.

A third interjected. "Bite your tongue. They had better things to do than worry about us," he chided as their steps hastened before melting into the distance.

As though she had finally caught on, Giovanna stopped resisting even as Matteo's mouth lingered on hers for an additional moment. Once he was certain they were alone again, he pulled away abruptly to avoid physical punishment. But Giovanna didn't respond with a strike of her hand against his cheek nor with a harsh word or two. Instead, she solemnly touched her lips before wiping them clean with the back of her hand.

The dismissive act hurt Matteo more than any slap or insult, yet he had no chance to address it for down the alleyway, the victim of the assault moaned.

"He's still alive," Giovanna whispered as her eyes widened. Not waiting for Matteo to respond, she ran off.

After taking one last look around to make sure they were still alone Matteo followed, finding her crouched over a man lying on his back. With his discerning clothes disheveled and his gaunt face bloody, it was nearly impossible to recognize the man. It was only the distinctive signet ring on his left hand that alerted Matteo to his identity.

"Don Delfini," he whispered while kneeling beside the senior Council of Forty member. When the injured patrician tried to respond, Matteo hushed him. "No, don't try to speak. You will be all right. I will make sure of it."

"I can tend to him," Giovanna offered, already reaching into her pocket and withdrawing a kerchief to wipe the blood out of Delfini's eyes.

But Matteo objected. "No. You must get away from here quickly. Your name should not be tied to this horrible occurrence."

"Apart from my father, I'm the best—"

"You will go, now," Matteo demanded as he cut her off with not only words, but a stern look. He meant what he had said about not wanting Giovanna embroiled in the scandal that this attack would surely bring. The less attention she brought to herself, the better it was for everyone—including her own father. "Find refuge in my home until I join you. But first I will take Don Delfini to the palace where—"

"The Doge's Palace, you mean?"

Her sardonic emphasis took him aback. "Yes, it is the closest place with a physician and for a man of his standing—"

"You'd take him into the proverbial lion's den," she stated.

"Whatever are you talking about?" he asked while helping Delfini sit. "You're just wasting time."

Giovanna stood and crossed her arms. "Was it not Tomaso Delfini who publicly spoke out against Doge Grimani just a few days ago? And did not one of his attackers reference that slight just now? And you think that after that, he'd be safe in the very place that houses the mastermind behind his troubles."

Matteo paused. In the chaos, he hadn't even stopped to consider the motivation behind best friend's almost father-in-law's attack. Yet the clever girl had managed to put the pieces together.

He cleared his throat in an attempt to conceal his embarrassment. "Well, whether that is true remains to be seen. But just in case, I will heed your warning and take him to the second nearest physician, but only if you promise to wait for me in Palazzo Barozzi until then."

To his delight, Giovanna nodded.