The impostor jumped out of her seat and hastily tugged the mask over her head. "You are mistaken. This is but a dream," she said, even as her brown hair cascaded out from under the disguise and flowed over her shoulders.
Matteo tried to stand, but he rose too quickly and wavered.
"Sit at once!" commanded the girl, rushing over. "You are in no state to—"
She didn't get to finish the admonishment before tripping over her cloak. Her landing was soft as the rug caught her knees, followed by her extended palms.
"I am no more asleep than you," Matteo said, slightly amused at the folly before him. "Now, I will give you a chance to explain yourself, but only if you stop this charade and reveal your true identity."
Sitting back on her heels, the pretend doctor paused as if weighing her options. Unlikely to have found any other, she relented.
As the grotesque leather mask came off, Matteo inadvertently gasped. With this closer proximity and better angle of light, he had a much better view of the intruder sitting on his salon floor. And while he was certain he had never seen her before, he was positive that he wanted to see her again.
The girl looked to be around his age, maybe slightly younger. Her large, dark eyes were unlike any he'd ever seen, giving off an aura of pride, curiosity, and compassion all at once. Her nose was thin and bold, while her lips underneath formed a perfectly defiant pucker. Matteo found himself staring way too long at them, wondering how they'd feel underneath his own mouth. Yet whether from the weight of illness still over his mind and body, or if from his own carnal desires, he also didn't want to look away.
"Will you have me arrested?" asked the girl as she wiped a dark lock out of her eyes.
Matteo couldn't immediately answer. He was still so shocked at the revelation that he hadn't even considered his next move. After a moment to gather his thoughts, he leaned back on the sofa and motioned for the girl to sit across from him.
"Please. Make yourself comfortable," he said, gesturing to the other piece of silk-covered furniture.
She hesitated again before acting, proving her continued distrust. Yet once more, she eventually complied with the request. When she was properly settled, he continued. "What is your name?"
The girl's eyes narrowed, and he could just imagine her internal struggle in deciding whether to be truthful. The act amused him, but his need to find out more about her was even greater.
"I am Matteo," he offered with a slight bow of his head. "My father is Procurator of Wills, Lorenzo Barozzi."
"I know very well who you are," she said, looking him up and down with a scowl. "Your father sent guards to my home to save you."
"But the guards . . .," began Matteo before realization hit. "Oh, I see. Are you a relation of Augostino Rienzo?"
She nodded. "He is my father, yes."
Matteo hid his surprise. He wasn't aware of the doctor having children, much less one as beautiful as this one. Then again, it was not his business to know. "And why did he not come to my aid? Am I not important enough for the famous plague doctor?" he asked with a cock of his brow.
The girl appeared nervous as her gaze left his face, and her eyes began darting from side to side.
"Forgive me," Matteo said, hoping to calm her. "That was rude of me. I meant no insult."
Her shoulders visibly relaxed. With her focus on the mask in her hands, she took several deep breaths before looking up. "My name is Giovanna," she said while defiantly staring into his eyes. The change in her demeanor was abrupt, but understandable. She had obviously made her decision about whether to be truthful or continue with the lies.
"Giovanna," Matteo whispered back as if calling out to a goddess, having no reason to doubt the answer.
She sat in silence, not offering any more details that would have made his inquisition any easier. While his weary body longed to get through this as quickly as possible in order to return to rest, in a way, Matteo respected her more for this.
"Why did you come in your father's stead, Giovanna?" he asked.
"It is the time of the plague. He was otherwise occupied."
"But impersonating a plague doctor—by a woman no less—is a crime. You must know this."
"I do, but the call was for the son of a patrician—"
"You don't care about me more than for the child of a fisherman. Why risk jail with such an apparent deception?"
"First, my disguise fooled not only the soldiers, but also your servants. You yourself were none the wiser until I removed my mask. It's through my own fault that I stayed long enough by your side to nearly fall asleep myself, which proves my second point. And that is, I would have just as readily gone to the house of a fisherman if I thought a life was on the line."
"So there is your confession then. Have you done this before? Do you often don the mask of a physician to—"
"No, no! This was the first time."
"Why now?"
She flinched at the question. "What?"
"You said it yourself. We are in the time of the plague. For months now, hundreds and then thousands of our fellow citizens have taken ill daily. Your father, like all the plague doctors within Venice, is much too scarce for the overwhelming need to heal, which means that he must be away from home often, even when he is needed elsewhere. So if you have never before stepped into his shoes until tonight, why did you do it now?"
"I . . . I—"
"Choose your words carefully because I can have the jailers keep you for a week or a year, and it all depends on your answer."
Dropping the mask to the floor, Giovanna sprang from her seat and threw herself at Matteo's feet. "Please, oh please. Take pity on me. I meant no harm. I was doing what I thought was best for everyone," she cried, leaning against his legs and burying her face under her arms.
Her closeness was unnerving, especially given her fragile state. Matteo now hated himself for threatening imprisonment. He would never do that to this girl, especially after she'd saved his life. But he couldn't look weak, and more importantly, he still wanted answers. So he had to take a different approach.
"Tell me: why did you stay when you knew it risked revealing your identity?"
With her head still bent over his knee, she sniffled. "I didn't know. I thought you were in a deeper sleep. Can I please just go home now?"
He wanted to say yes, he really did. But he had set himself on this path, and no there was no going back. "Only after you've answered my questions."
Jumping to her feet, she looked down at him with disgust. "And here I was thinking you were a man of honor."
Although her words stung, Matteo was more focused on the anger in her eyes in place of tears. "You weren't even really crying!" he exclaimed in genuine surprise.
"Of course I wasn't. How weak do you think I am? Not as weak as you, that's for certain," she said with a smirk, obviously enjoying his confusion. But her anger had also loosened her tongue, and she now readily spoke her mind. "Instead of holding an inquisition, dear son of a Procurator, you should be grateful that I came at all. Anyone else besides me or my father would have taken your symptoms at face value and sent you to the Lazaretto unnecessarily. What was merely a case of a meal not agreeing with your disposition would have undoubtedly turned into the plague in no time."
Matteo felt his cheeks redden and he was thankful for the low light. "You're right. And I am thankful for that. But the question still remains: why is it that you came in your father's stead?"
"You just won't quit, will you? Well, I cannot tell you."
"Then I cannot let you go."
"So you mean to keep me here?"
"Only until I get my answer."
"Then I hope that you are a patient man," she said, unbuttoning her cloak before tossing it over the back of the sofa. Although the top part of her garb was a frilly bodice and corset, from the waist down, she was dressed like a man.
While unusual, Matteo had to admit that she looked quite fetching. Still, he couldn't play his hand. She was already gaining advantage over him in this discussion, and the last thing the girl needed was to learn of her effect on him. "Not particularly," he admitted, crossing his arms and revealing a sly grin. "But I only have to outlast you."
Giovanna huffed, but also made herself comfortable. They sat in silence, staring past each other for a long while before she suddenly laughed.
"Do you find something humorous?" Matteo asked, secretly grateful for the interruption. He didn't know how much longer he could have taken this standoff of wills.
She rummaged through her cloak and held up a metal object. "I've just realized that I've had the key this entire time." After a sly look at the door, she jumped to her feet, ran across the room and inserted the key into the lock. But as she glanced over her shoulder, she frowned in confusion. Matteo had firmly remained in his place. "Aren't you going to try to stop me?"
He shook his head. "There's no need. You won't get far without this," he said, holding up the discarded mask that had been left on the floor.
Dejected, Giovanna returned to the sofa. The duo resumed their silent vigil until she became restless once more. After walking now to the window, she pulled the curtain back enough to reveal a brightening of the sky.
"It's almost sunrise," she observed.
Matteo felt both a pang of relief and of regret. "Do you have someplace to be?" he asked.
"Home," she snapped.
Steadying himself on the furniture, Matteo stood and slowly walked to her, the strength in his body still not having fully returned. "Just tell me why you are here, and I'll get you out of the palazzo without being seen."
She made a move to reach for his hand before thinking better of it and withdrawing hers. "Please, I saved your life . . .."
He nodded in agreement. That fact was undisputed, yet he knew there was something more—something important—behind her refusal to be transparent. "And that is why I won't have you jailed. But I need for you to be honest with me."
Giovanna turned to the window. "I can't," she whispered.
"Why not?" Matteo touched her arm, pivoting her around to face him.
"Because you'll rescind your kindness as soon as I tell you the truth."
It was obvious she wanted to speak, and Matteo held back a smile. He was so close now, he could feel it. "Is it that bad?"
"Yes."
Now he really had to know. "What if I give you my word? On my honor, I promise not to break my pledge to allow you safe passage home without the threat of imprisonment."
"Why should I trust you?" she asked, stepping away but keeping her eyes on his face.
He followed her with his gaze as he turned his head. "Why would I lie?"
She scoffed before sitting down. "That's not an answer."
"Very well," he said, taking her lead in heading back to the sofa. "What do you want from me?"
She leaned forward, her corset pushing the top of her breasts up to the edge of her bodice. Although Matteo didn't understand how women could stand such constrictive garments, he was happy with the view.
"Forget this night ever happened," she said. "Pretend we never met or spoke. If you would see me outside the walls of this house tomorrow, do not nod in acknowledgement or smile in recognition. Let me remain a stranger. It is all I ask."
It pained him to agree to these terms, but Matteo saw no other way to honor his word. "I accept." He reluctantly nodded.
"And one more thing," she said.
He was ready to agree to anything. "Yes?"
"Promise that you will not do anything to harm my father. That you will trust me to know what's best for him."
He furrowed his brows. "Of course, but why would I . . .?" he trailed off as the missing pieces of the puzzle suddenly fell into place. "He's sick, isn't he? That is why he couldn't come. And you're afraid that if he were discovered, he'd be banished to quarantine."
"You cannot tell anyone! You promised," Giovanna said, her eyes now twinkling with real tears.
"I won't." Matteo shook his head. "I swear it. But is that safe? I assume that you are hiding him in your home. Are you not at risk from also becoming ill?"
"I have been around the sick for months, and if God had wanted me to fall ill, it would have already happened. I believe I may be one of the lucky few who can avoid this pestilence," she said. "Which is why I'm the best to care for him. If he were sent to Lazaretto Vecchio, he'd surely die. You know how few people ever return from that island."
Matteo ran his fingers through his hair and sighed. Yes, he knew the awful statistics. They were often the subject of discussion within both the council chamber and his father's dining room. While he would have rather ignored the dire truth, death these days in Venice was just another part of life.
"We are now both responsible for this secret," he said as he stood, resigned to keep his word. It probably wouldn't be needed for too long, anyway. Even without going under the care of the sisters of St. Mary of Nazareth, the good doctor's chances of survival were slim. The plague only let a small percentage of those it touched out of its grip. But he understood the girl's need to try to save him and hoped for the best. Handing the mask to Giovanna, Matteo forced a smile. "Put this on, then. I will walk down with you to the entryway to prove that you have done your job, and that I am no longer sick. Return to your father quickly while the alleys are still empty and tend to him."
She took the mask and nodded. "Thank you."
After donning her cloak and carefully tucking her hair away, Giovanna once again looked like a regular plague doctor. Matteo unlocked the salon's door, and when he confirmed that the foyer was empty save for the single servant at the bottom of the marble staircase, the duo descended.
"Ahem," Matteo had to forcibly clear his throat to wake the sleeping youth in the chair next to the entry who immediately jumped to his feet and scrambled to adjust the tilted cap on his head.
"Signore Barozzi, my humble apologies. I did not realize that it was already morn!" he exclaimed, straightening his shoulders and bowing his head.
"No need for regrets, Giacomo," Matteo laughed and slapped him on the shoulder. Although the boy was several years younger than he, they were both equally tall and strong. "It is earlier than usual, and I am merely escorting the dear Doctor Rienzo out. He has, after all, confirmed that I will not die this day and perhaps not even on the next one."
Giacomo allowed a small smile to grace his lips and stepped to the door, unlocking the bolt before pulling the large entry open. "That is indeed good news."
Matteo had worried that Giovanna's spryness in slipping out and running across the piazza would compromise her identity, but she was gone too quickly for the servant or anyone else to even give her a second thought. He, however, wasn't so lucky because Matteo was sure that he'd be thinking about the girl for quite some time.