were intended anymore or the details. She simply made them and then carried out the orders she was given with whomever she was assigned to that night.
‘Then, I will use some hemlock, comfrey and …’ She thought for a moment. Not always needing to prepare new potions, Tallow could reach inside herself and draw from plants and objects she’d already extracted. ‘Ah.’ She waved her hand in the air. ‘I have it. I know what to use.’
Baroque no longer asked either. He didn’t want to know.
She took a deep breath. ‘Bring me the candles, Baroque. Two should do. Votives, please.’
Baroque lifted a pair out of the box he’d bought at the markets yesterday and placed them in front of Tallow. In seconds she’d distilled the necessary emotions into them. ‘There’s no need to test them, Baroque. They will work. I know it.’ Wistfulness tinged her tone as she took one more look at what she’d done. The candles glowed, the glass containers enhancing the effect.
She glanced out of the doorway. ‘It grows late. I’d better prepare for tonight’s festivities.’ Undoing her apron, she slowly hung it on the hook at the back of the room. Baroque watched. Instead of leaving straightaway, she lingered.
‘Baroque?’
He quickly swung back to the bench. ‘Sì?’
‘Do you know who exactly these are for?’ She stood close beside him. He caught the scent of musk and vanilla. He inhaled deeply, as if she too were one of her candles. His head spun.
‘You know I’m not supposed to answer that, Tarlo. That is for Signor or Signorina Maleovelli to tell you.’
‘I know,’ she said, locking her eyes onto his.
‘They are for the Prince.’
‘Which one?’
‘Cosimo.’
‘Ah, of course.’ Tallow touched the candles. ‘What do they intend apart from making him ignore his better judgement?’
‘I don’t know.’
She nodded faintly and Baroque was shocked to realise she didn’t believe him.
‘Tallow, I mean, Tarlo, I really don’t know. You will find out soon enough. You’re to take them to Signor Maleovelli and receive your instructions.’ He paused. ‘The Maleovellis do not share much with me. They never have.’
‘No,’ said Tallow, raising her huge silver-grey eyes with their dilated black pupils to his. ‘I don’t suppose they do anymore. They have no need. Not since you helped them secure what they wanted most.’
His heart flipped. Did she know? Then, he realised what she meant – herself. The rebuke in her voice stung. He was rendered speechless. She collected the candles and plucked a couple of others from the shelf. Candles she would no doubt use in her room. He noted that one had been infused with the elements of heartsease, effectively a love potion, while the other was as yet untouched. What was Tallow intending? He couldn’t read her face; it had resumed its mask.
She gave him the barest of curtsies before leaving. ‘I will see you tomorrow,’ she said over her shoulder. ‘I may be late.’
Baroque watched her ascend the stairs and wondered who was going to enjoy her favours tonight. He found that, for once, he didn’t envy them.
GIACONDA WAITED UNTIL TARLO had left the room before she perched herself on the arm of her father’s chair. She began to stroke his hair. He sighed and relaxed his head into her hands. ‘How much longer till we make our move?’ she asked softly.
Ezzelino Maleovelli frowned. ‘A little longer yet, cara mia. To act too swiftly will arouse suspicion, no matter how cautious we are, how careful we’ve been.’
‘And what of Lord Waterford’s curiosity? What he saw?’
Ezzelino’s eyes flew open and he sat up abruptly, almost unbalancing Giaconda. She stood up hastily, tugged her gown into order and watched as her father fumbled for his pipe. In silence he stuffed fresh tobacco into the bowl and then, picking up a candle from his desk, used the flame to light it.
Giaconda retreated to the window, watching the way the pastel hues of sunset transformed the campo. It was full of people on their way home, or paused mid-journey, enjoying conversations with old acquaintances.
Not until smoke billowed around Ezzelino’s head did he answer her. ‘We need to distract him. You need to distract him, but also find out what he suspects and what he would do with his suspicions.’
‘Molto bene. It may be that we have to bribe him.’
‘Whatever it takes …’
‘At least we’re in a position to consider that now.’
Ezzelino chuckled. ‘Our little Dorata has made sure of that. She’s exceeded all my expectations, cara. All of them.’ He held out his hand.