bathroom and met Gisella’s penetrating expression. Her eyes searched my face, trained on the cheek Raphael had hit.
She inhaled a shaky breath. “You can’t go downstairs looking like that.”
“It’s that noticeable?”
She nodded. “Stay here. Let me get you some ice. Hopefully that will take care of it by dinnertime… Papà invited him to stay for the evening meal.”
I swallowed. “How did he—I mean, were you in the salon when he returned?”
“Yes.”
“How did he look?”
“As though nothing had transpired at all,” she blurted out, her eyes wide.
I let out a choked sob. “He’s a monster.”
“I’m sorry,” she whispered brokenly.
“Why are you sorry? It’s not your fault. You didn’t do this.”
She bit her lip as her eyes filled with tears. “We were tentatively engaged. I was too young to marry him, and then you…”
“Showed up out of the blue.” I dragged the younger girl into my arms and held her tightly. My mother hadn’t been able to protect me from the Foscari, and I might not be able to protect my unborn child from them either. But at least I was able to protect this sweet, innocent girl from marrying a sadist.
After a moment, she pulled away and swiped at the tears on her cheeks. “Let me go get you that ice.”
“Thank you,” I said.
Gisella and I spent the afternoon holed up in my room. Her company was a welcome distraction from my disorderly thoughts and current situation. No one came looking for us until it was cocktail hour. A servant knocked on my door and told us our presence was required downstairs.
“Gisella,” I said to her before we left the sanctuary of my bedroom. “Do me a favor.”
“What?” she asked, peering at me with her golden-brown, fawn-like eyes.
“Keep your distance from me, okay? I don’t want to give Raphael any reason to—I don’t want anything to happen to you because of me. Do you understand?”
Nodding, she replied, “I understand.”
“How’s my cheek?” I asked her.
“Hardly noticeable.”
We walked down to the salon together, and I was careful to remain aloof. When we were in the doorway, Raphael turned to look at me.
“You look refreshed,” he commented.
“My afternoon nap was invigorating,” I said with a bland smile. “Thank you for understanding my need for space.”
Any shrewd observer could look at me and know I hadn’t napped, and that I was boldly lying to cover something up. But I was in a room full of Moretti who wanted this marriage to go through, so they smiled and pretended to believe me.
“I was just discussing wedding dates with your uncle. The ceremony will take place a week from today.”
“You must bring your family to stay,” Angelo said to Raphael. “We’ll have a long overdue celebration.”
Angelo held out his hand to Raphael, who didn’t hesitate to take it, but they did not shake. Instead, they wrapped their hands around each other’s forearms, grasping one another in a silent vow. A new alliance to be sealed with my marriage to Raphael, and the birth of a child that would carry the blood of both Foscari and Moretti.
The butler appeared in the doorway of the salon to announce that dinner was ready.
“You go ahead,” Raphael said to the other occupants. “I’d like a word with my fiancée.”
I tried to stop the shiver of apprehension that crawled up my spine. Angelo left the room first, followed by Luca and Tor. Gisella was slower to depart and when she did, she threw a casual look at me over her shoulder before disappearing.
When we were alone, Raphael took a threatening step toward me. “A servant told me you spent the afternoon with your cousin.”
“I did.” I swallowed my nerves and clenched my hands into fists, but I kept them at my sides.
“Did you tell her what happened between us?”
“No. She doesn’t know a thing.”
He pinched my chin and turned my head to the side, inspecting the cheek he’d delivered vengeance to.
“It’s not swollen,” he murmured. “Excellent. Shall we go to dinner?”
Once again, he offered me his arm. I didn’t hesitate to take it. I would do nothing to incite his wrath.
Where are you, Hadrian?
Dinner was an oddly lively affair. Even though Raphael was a sociopath, he was a charming one. He drew everyone individually into conversation at one time or another, and laughter was rampant.
I remained quiet, attempting to keep the rich meal in my belly. I ignored the wine that was set at my plate, wishing I could partake. But if there was the slightest chance Raphael hadn’t made good on