The Contessa's Vendetta Read Online Free

understand everything that was happening around me.
    “ Attend to her well, Giovanni,” the monk said. “She is the Contessa Carlotta Mancini. You will not regret caring for her. I will return within an hour.”
    “ Contessa Mancini! Santissima Madonna ! She has caught the plague!”
    I knew it was possible, for it took only a few hours before one contracted the plague after exposure.  
    “Hush, fool!” the monk exclaimed. “You cannot know that. A stroke of the sun is not the plague! See to her well or, by Saint Peter, there will be no place for you in Heaven!”
    The landlord appeared terrified at the uttered curse. He retreated and returned with pillows to place beneath my head. The monk held a glass to my lips. It contained some herbal mixture, which I swallowed without thought. 
    “ Rest here, my lady,” he said with a calming tone. “These people will treat you kindly. I will hasten to the boy and in less than an hour will return to you again.”
    I r estrained him with my hand on his arm. “Wait,” I murmured. “Let me know the worst. Do you think I have the plague?”
    “ I hope not!” he replied with compassion. “But it is possible. You may have contracted it from the boy. It does not take long for the plague to spread from one person to another. If this is the case, you are young and strong. You can fight it. Do not be afraid.”
    “ I am not afraid, but please promise me one thing. Send no word of my illness to my husband. You must swear it. Even if I am unconscious or dead, swear you will ensure no one takes my body back to my villa. I cannot risk making my family ill. Swear it! I cannot rest till I have your word.”
    “ I swear it, my lady,” he answered, solemnly. “By all I hold sacred, I will respect your wishes.”
    His words reassured me. The safety of my loved ones was certain. I thanked him with a mute gesture, too weak to say anything more. He disappeared from my sight.
    I lost all semblance of time. My thoughts meandered into a confusion of bizarre delusions. I could see the interior of the room where I lay. The landlord polished his glasses and bottles, casting anxious glances in my direction. Groups of men peered at me through the doorway, but the moment they saw me, they fled.
    A cloud floated above my face and in its centre, a face emerged. “Dario! My love, my husband!” I cried, stretching out my arms to clasp him. Instead, I realized the landlord held me in his embrace. I struggled to push him away.
    “ Cretino !” I shrieked. “Let me go, my husband’s lips are the only ones to kiss me, not yours, let me go!”
    Another man advanced and seized me. He and the landlord overcame me and forced me back on the pillows. Exhaustion robbed me of strength. I ceased to struggle. The landlord and his assistant stared down at me.   
    “ She’s dead!” one of them whispered.
    I heard them. Dead? Not me! The pain my chest was unbearable, my breathing shallow because of it. Scorching sunlight streamed through the open door of the inn. Thirsty flies buzzed with persistent loudness. Voices sang, though I could not distinguish the words.
    I yearned for Dario. What had Beatrice said about him? As pure as a flawless diamond and as unapproachable as the farthest star.
    That idiotic landlord still buffed his wine-bottles, his fearful round face oily with heat and grime. I did not understand why he was there, for I saw myself resting on the banks of a cool river where huge trees grew wild and a drowsy lion slept in the sun, its jaws open wide and eyes aglitter with hunger. A boat slipped silently through the water. In it, I beheld a woman, her features similar to those of Beatrice. The woman drew out a long thin stiletto as she approached. Brave Beatrice! She meant to attack the lion on the shore. She stepped onto the bank and passed the lion, unaware of its presence. Instead, she headed straight toward me with a rapid, unwavering step. I was the one Beatrice sought. Beatrice thrust