Wizard's Daughter (Sherbrooke Brides 10)

Sarimund said, 'Theirs was an arranged marriage, natu­rally, but Vittorio was vicious and unnatural in his sexual de­mands. Mixed with the magic was madness, only his father Ignazio did not want to face it, he never had.

"There came a time, however, when Ilaria hated her hus­band more than she feared him. She took a lover, a young man who sang beautifully, a wandering young man who left soon after he'd made love to her. He never knew she bore him a son and Vittorio killed them both."

Nicholas asked her, "What did Vittorio do to you?"

"Tell him, Isabella. You remember."

"Vittorio caught me before I could get to my father." She fell silent a moment, looked over the barren plain, then shrugged. "I'm sorry, but I don't remember anything else."

Sarimund continued. "Vittorio didn't want to kill you. Even in his madness, in his fear that he would be found out, he still loved you, and he loved your father like a brother. But he knew you could not remain in Italy or you would tell your parents, and he knew your father would believe you. Vittorio knew your father was a very powerful wizard from a long line of powerful wizards. As far back as any could remem­ber, there was magic in the Contadini line. In both your lines, there has always been powerful magic.

"Vittorio knew if he didn't do something quickly he would be executed for his crime, that or thrown into a mad­house. So he immediately caught you and gave you over to one of his trusted men to take you to England. I found this destination rather curious since your mother's family is En­glish, but no matter, he must have had a plan, though I never learned what it was.

"It seems Erasmo—the man Vittorio put in charge of you—witnessed you go into a trance. He was very supersti­tious, and it scared him badly. He believed you a witch and evil." Sarimund shrugged. "So he tried to beat you to death. Indeed, he left you for dead in that alley.

"Ryder Sherbrooke found you and nursed you back to health. Ah, dearest Isabella, I am sorry your memory was closed behind the stoutest of doors, but it was for the best, for everyone. Erasmo told Vittorio you had died of a sweat­ing sickness on the journey. He said there was nothing to be done to save you, and Vittorio believed him.

"Ryder Sherbrooke decided, rightfully so, that no search should be made for your family. He wasn't willing to take the chance that someone would try to kidnap you again." Sarimund lightly touched his fingertips to her brow, touched his thumbs to her temples. "Do you remember now?"

She nodded slowly, never looking away from him.

She said in a child's voice, broken and sad, "I'm sitting cross-legged in a small cabin on one of Vittorio's trading ships, the Zacarria , and my hands are folded just so on my legs. I'm concentrating on my father. I know he and my mother are frantic because I was suddenly just gone, disap­peared. Even though I know I'm at sea, far away from Italy, I still believe he can save me. My father is so strong, you see, so very good, and he knows me, knows what I think and how I think. He tells me I am his magic princess and he will make very certain my future husband is a powerful wizard so I will always be safe. He tells me that nearly every night before I sleep, right after Mother kisses me good night. He always smoothes my eyebrows with his fin­ger, just like he does Mother's." Rosalind broke off, low­ered her head, and the tears came, hot and thick. A child's tears, she realized, not really her tears, not a woman's tears, but remembered tears and perhaps they were the most painful.

Sarimund touched her cheek. "Tell him, Isabella."

After a moment, she said in that same sad child's voice, "I'm focusing with all my strength on my father, and I see him. He is striding back and forth in front of Mother, and he is very angry, and scared. She's trying not to cry. My brother, Raffaello, is there and he looks very angry as well. He is striking one fist against his open palm, cursing. I call to my father, once, twice, then I scream at him in my mind. I see him turn quickly to face me.

"But at that moment Erasmo came into the cabin to tell me we had finally reached England, that we'd docked at Eastbourne, and he was taking me ashore. I suppose when he saw me, he at first believed I was sleeping, but I wasn't. I stared up at him, through him really, and cursed him in an­other's vo

ice, and in another language, yet he understood. It frightened him very badly. He screamed at me that he'd heard I was a witch and thus vile and evil, and so he dragged me off the brigantine and into an alley to beat me to death. A cabin boy tried to stop him. Erasmo clouted him and tossed him into the harbor. None of the other sailors tried to stop him.

"I awoke at Brandon House, and remembered nothing of what had happened. After six months, I sang my song and spoke. After I'd been at Brandon House for several years, Uncle Ryder told me why they hadn't tried to search for my family—he feared someone would try to kill me again. His son, Grayson, was my best friend. I think he feared for me and thus he stayed very close for many years, though he never said anything about it." She shrugged. "When Nicholas came back to England, I suppose he set everything into mo­tion. And here we are now, in the Pale. Am I really magic, Sarimund?"

He smiled at her. "Oh, yes. Your line is long and powerful, as I told you, as is the Vail line. However, unlike the Vail line, who forgot their magic"—he smiled now at Nicholas—"that is not exactly true. Galardi Vail, your grandfather, liked to toy with wizardry, but he never imagined that it was actually in­side him, waiting to be freed. Your line, Isabella, the Conta­dini line, never forgot, which is why you were so strong. It is only when you lost your memory that you lost your magic."

She nodded slowly. She said, "Erasmo was right. I was a witch, a powerful witch, and I knew it, but—"

"You still are. You are here and that makes you even stronger. Don't forget it."

She said in some wonder, "I remember now when I was a child in San Savaro, I knew my father was spoken of behind hands, and with awe and pride, mostly, when the rain fell and none had been expected, or when a woman birthed twins unexpectedly, or when disease struck the fields and yet the barley and wheat still grew tall. All believed it was my fa­ther's doing. He was magic and all knew it. He was also deeply good. He said I was just like him. I was his magic princess."

She turned to Sarimund. "My parents—do they still remember me?"

He nodded. "Oh, yes. Every day they think of you, mourn your loss. As for Vittorio, he is wedded to another lady and abuses her endlessly. She has borne him no children. His seed is lifeless, you see. When your father realized this, he knew Ilaria could not have borne Vittorio's child. And he wonders who the real father was, and wonders about those deaths and how you, Isabella, disappeared so quickly after­ward. He remembers perhaps seeing you in that ship's cabin, but he can't be certain since he never saw you again through his magic, because the link was broken, you see. You no longer remembered him. Nor could your elder brother, Raf-faello, ever find you and he carries his father's strong magic blood. Your mother grieves, Isabella, she still grieves. You have four brothers now, the youngest only four years old. It would seem that there will be yet a fifth brother bom very soon."

"I have four brothers? Almost five?" She couldn't compre­hend it, simply couldn't take it all in. But she did comprehend one thing very well: Vittorio had never been punished.

Nicholas said, "Sarimund, you said it was better she didn't remember because Ryder Sherbrooke would have contacted her family, she'd have gone home to San Savaro and still been in danger. My question is why in the name of Heaven didn't you simply strike down Vittorio? Then she could have gone home without risk."

Sarimund said slowly, "I know so many things, see so many things, but I am not of the physical world now, my lord. I could no more call down a plague on Vittorio's head than a Tiber could trap a red Lasis. Do you understand?"

"Yo u mean you cannot cross from here to England?"

He smiled at that and shook his head. "No, I cannot even cross into England. Nowhere on earth, for that matter." "But_"

Sarimund closed his hand around Nicholas's wrist. "If I 'd been able, I would have blighted that evil monster to the pit of Hell. Ah, there is so much evil everywhere. Here in the Pale evil flourishes madly."

Rosalind looked squarely at Sarimund. "After I have saved Prince Egan, after Nicholas has paid his debt to me, I will go home and see that Vittorio is punished. Now, Sarimund, what are Nicholas and I to do now that we are here in the Pale?"