The Stargazer Read Online Free Page A

reminded herself. And now they were betrothed. It was positively idiotic.
    As she thought, she worked to reform the nib of her pen. But when the full force of the betrothal hit her—no freedom, no lectures, no book of her own—she missed and cut the quill in half. “S’balls!” she declared, and then looked up to make sure no one overheard her speak such scandalous words. But she was alone. Since her father’s death, it seemed as if she was always alone. But that was just how she liked it…wasn’t it?
    Clearly between her wandering mind, broken pen, and lack of rest, she could accomplish no more. With a sigh she stood up and removed her blood-soaked apron. She moved sleepily to open the door, but found it impossible to move. She tried again, twisting the cold knob with all her might, and again nothing happened. She was locked in. A mixture of desperation and indignation overcame her exhaustion, and she began pounding against the heavy door with all her force. Nothing. My God, she thought, he’s left me up here to die with this corpse. Panicked, she went to the far end of the room and, with a running start, hurled herself at the door.
    Ian heard her mad pounding from his laboratory. He had expected Bianca Salva to be difficult and even exasperating, but need she be so noisy? He pushed aside the rock-chip he had been looking at under his magnifying lenses and headed toward the other side of the palazzo, where he had given her space for her own laboratory. The noise seemed thankfully to subside as he approached the door and turned the handle.
    He was never sure afterward just how he ended up pinned against the far wall of the hallway with Bianca in his arms, but he felt the bruises for more than a week. It had not been an unpleasant sensation, he mused, just unexpected. He vaguely remembered seeing something come flying at him as the door swung open, but how that something was Bianca Salva remained a bit mysterious. They stood entwined together for a few silent seconds before the body next to his began to pull away.
    “My lord, how dare you?” Bianca gasped at last, stepping out of the circle of his embrace.
    “I beg your pardon, signorina, but I believe it was you who leapt into my arms, not the other way around.” Ian raised one eyebrow sarcastically.
    She glared at him as fulsomely as possible. “That is not what I meant,” she said with exasperation. “How dare you lock me in there with that body? I will not be your prisoner!”
    “There you are mistaken, carissima . You are my prisoner—remember, we are betrothed. That gives me no end of power over you.”
    Bianca resisted the urge to slap him, barely. “This betrothal is a mockery, we both know that. What I do not understand is why you proposed it—you wouldn’t possibly have suggested such a thing if you really believed I was guilty. Is it truly so hard to find someone willing to marry you, my lord, that you’ve had to turn to the criminal classes?”
    “On the contrary.” Ian matched her sarcastic tone with his own. “I have no more interest in marriage than you do. Hence a murderess is the perfect woman for me—I can dally with her at my leisure, destroy her mind and her reputation, and then turn her to the wolves when I am done. You will recall that a charge of murder is one of the honorable and legitimate reasons for ending a betrothal.” Ian smiled smugly to himself as he waited for Bianca’s next sally. But it did not come. Instead she sighed deeply and her shoulders began to sag. Oh no, he thought to himself, she is going to cry. Ian preferred anything to a crying woman, and was about to say so when Bianca opened her mouth.
    “If I were you, my lord,” she said, exhaustion shading every word, “I would try using kindness rather than cruelty on me in your interrogations. It is what I neither expect nor am accustomed to these many days, and it would surely be more effective to catch me off my guard. You might begin by telling me I