Read Online The Scarletti Curse by Christine Feehan - Free Book Online
Authors: Christine Feehan
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all aware that other children
much like Nicoletta had been born to different families throughout their
history. Each of them had ancestors who had been burned in the not-so-distant
past as witches or devil-worshipers, so they carefully maintained their image
as a devout, pious people completely loyal to their don.
"Be cautious, Maria Pia. The don is…" Nicoletta trailed off, unsure
how to put her feelings into words. She suspected the don was as
"different" as she was—not in the same manner but in ways far more
dangerous than the older woman could conceive.
"I have heard the rumors and have met his
famiglia.
I do not
speak unless spoken to, and Mirella will be too frightened to open her mouth.
She is much older and remembers the days gone by."
"What does she remember?" Nicoletta asked, curious. Among the
villagers it was very difficult to separate fact from fiction, rumor from the truth.
The Scarletti family history was shrouded in curses and dark mysteries spoken
of only in whispers.
"It is said that Don Scarletti's grandfather strangled his wife with
his bare hands." Maria Pia whispered the words softly so the wind could not
whisk them to other ears. "Mirella knew her well, served her faithfully.
She is convinced the crime was committed and the don's
padre
covered up
the evidence. Three murders in less than two years, all women, and no one did
anything."
Nicoletta had heard the dark whispers of the don's grandfather strangling
his wife yet never being punished. The woman had died around the same time as
Nicoletta's mother and aunt, and many believed the elder Scarletti had
committed more than one crime. But the
don's
family had closed ranks,
and no one was powerful enough to cross them. Nicoletta could almost believe
such things of the eldest Scarletti; he certainly seemed to despise females.
She could not imagine any woman being chained to such a terrible man.
'The good Madonna will look after us, Nicoletta, and you will stay out of
trouble and out of sight." Maria Pia made it a decree.
Nicoletta allowed her smile to reach her dark eyes, lighting her face.
"Ketsia will watch over me while I rest.'"
Ketsia nodded solemnly, pleased with the responsibility. She straightened
her shoulders and looked quite proud. Nicoletta and the little girl watched
Maria Pia begin the trek down the mountain.
Nicoletta put an arm around Ketsia's shoulders. "I wanted to look at a
patch of plants I moved from the far side of the mountain. Sometimes if I move
them from below, they struggle with the new elements, at first, and I must
instruct them how to grow."
Ketsia's small mouth formed an
O.
"You talk to plants?" She
looked around to make certain they were alone. Talking to plants didn't sound
like something Maria Pia would approve of.
"Of course. Some of them like me to sing to them." Nicoletta
winked at Ketsia. "Like this." She hummed softly, then tried to
yodel.
Ketsia dissolved into a fit of giggles. "I knew you did not really talk
to plants." She skipped to keep up with Nicoletta. She had to stop once to
pick up the shoes that slipped from Nicoletta's hands onto the path winding up
the hill.
The ocean came into view far below them. The deep blue sea was breaking on
the rocks in plumes of white foam. Nicoletta paused to look at the
breathtakingly beautiful vista. "You see this, Ketsia? This is what life
is about. Not being closed up inside, but free like the birds all around
us."
"Nicoletta, do not go too close to the edge," Ketsia scolded,
mimicking Maria Pia almost perfectly. "You could fall." She tugged at
the wide skirt until Nicoletta reluctantly moved away from the cliff's edge,
smiling at the little girl taking her job so seriously.
Nicoletta loved her life and loved the children who often followed her as
she roamed the mountains and valleys in search of the rare, precious plants she
needed. She had endless patience, finding the children to be great company on
her excursions. And her guardianship of the little ones
much like Nicoletta had been born to different families throughout their
history. Each of them had ancestors who had been burned in the not-so-distant
past as witches or devil-worshipers, so they carefully maintained their image
as a devout, pious people completely loyal to their don.
"Be cautious, Maria Pia. The don is…" Nicoletta trailed off, unsure
how to put her feelings into words. She suspected the don was as
"different" as she was—not in the same manner but in ways far more
dangerous than the older woman could conceive.
"I have heard the rumors and have met his
famiglia.
I do not
speak unless spoken to, and Mirella will be too frightened to open her mouth.
She is much older and remembers the days gone by."
"What does she remember?" Nicoletta asked, curious. Among the
villagers it was very difficult to separate fact from fiction, rumor from the truth.
The Scarletti family history was shrouded in curses and dark mysteries spoken
of only in whispers.
"It is said that Don Scarletti's grandfather strangled his wife with
his bare hands." Maria Pia whispered the words softly so the wind could not
whisk them to other ears. "Mirella knew her well, served her faithfully.
She is convinced the crime was committed and the don's
padre
covered up
the evidence. Three murders in less than two years, all women, and no one did
anything."
Nicoletta had heard the dark whispers of the don's grandfather strangling
his wife yet never being punished. The woman had died around the same time as
Nicoletta's mother and aunt, and many believed the elder Scarletti had
committed more than one crime. But the
don's
family had closed ranks,
and no one was powerful enough to cross them. Nicoletta could almost believe
such things of the eldest Scarletti; he certainly seemed to despise females.
She could not imagine any woman being chained to such a terrible man.
'The good Madonna will look after us, Nicoletta, and you will stay out of
trouble and out of sight." Maria Pia made it a decree.
Nicoletta allowed her smile to reach her dark eyes, lighting her face.
"Ketsia will watch over me while I rest.'"
Ketsia nodded solemnly, pleased with the responsibility. She straightened
her shoulders and looked quite proud. Nicoletta and the little girl watched
Maria Pia begin the trek down the mountain.
Nicoletta put an arm around Ketsia's shoulders. "I wanted to look at a
patch of plants I moved from the far side of the mountain. Sometimes if I move
them from below, they struggle with the new elements, at first, and I must
instruct them how to grow."
Ketsia's small mouth formed an
O.
"You talk to plants?" She
looked around to make certain they were alone. Talking to plants didn't sound
like something Maria Pia would approve of.
"Of course. Some of them like me to sing to them." Nicoletta
winked at Ketsia. "Like this." She hummed softly, then tried to
yodel.
Ketsia dissolved into a fit of giggles. "I knew you did not really talk
to plants." She skipped to keep up with Nicoletta. She had to stop once to
pick up the shoes that slipped from Nicoletta's hands onto the path winding up
the hill.
The ocean came into view far below them. The deep blue sea was breaking on
the rocks in plumes of white foam. Nicoletta paused to look at the
breathtakingly beautiful vista. "You see this, Ketsia? This is what life
is about. Not being closed up inside, but free like the birds all around
us."
"Nicoletta, do not go too close to the edge," Ketsia scolded,
mimicking Maria Pia almost perfectly. "You could fall." She tugged at
the wide skirt until Nicoletta reluctantly moved away from the cliff's edge,
smiling at the little girl taking her job so seriously.
Nicoletta loved her life and loved the children who often followed her as
she roamed the mountains and valleys in search of the rare, precious plants she
needed. She had endless patience, finding the children to be great company on
her excursions. And her guardianship of the little ones
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