The Contessa's Vendetta by Mirella Sichirollo Patzer Read Free Book Online Page A

she? I can see you know nothing of Vicenza. Have you not heard of the wealthy Mancini family? I wished the contessa to live a long life. She was clever and bold, but always good to the poor. She gave away hundreds of scudi in charity. I have seen her often, even on the day she got married.” Her crinkled, parchment-like face screwed itself into a malevolent expression. “Bah! I hate her husband, a handsome man, but weak as vile as a snake. I used to watch them both from the streets as they drove along in their fine carriage and I wondered how it would end between them. I knew their marriage could not last. I wanted her to be the victor over him. I would even have helped her kill him to free her from her that cursed marriage. Instead, God made a mistake. She is the one who is dead and that snake lives on and now has all her wealth.”
    I listened to the old wench with loathing, but interest too. Why should she hate my husband? Perhaps she hated all young, handsome men. If she had seen me as often as she claimed, why did she not recognize me? “What did Contessa Mancini look like? You say she was beautiful. Did she have dark or golden hair? Was she slim or tall?”
    Pushing aside an errant wisp of gray hair from her forehead, she stretched out a tawny, garbled hand as though pointing to a vision. “She was a beautiful woman, as straight and tall and as slim as you are! Your eyes are hollow and weak while hers were bursting with life and luminous. Your face is haggard and pallid, but hers was lucent and of a clear olive tint aglow with vigour. Her hair was glossy black, not snow-white like yours.”
    I flinched with fright. Had I changed that much in so short a time? Had the horror of spending a night in the crypt made such a severe impact upon my appearance? White hair instead of my ebony locks? I could hardly believe it.
    Perhaps Dario would not recognize me and would doubt my identity. If need be, I could verify I was Carlotta Mancini. All I had to do was show him the vault and my own splintered coffin inside it.
    While I contemplated all this, the old woman carried on with her ramblings. “Ah, si , she was a fine woman. I used to rejoice that she was so wise. She could have poisoned that snake of a husband so he could tell no more lies. I wanted her to do it. I would have gladly have provided her with the poison. Had she lived, I am certain she would have done it one day. That is why I am sorry the contessa died.”
    It took intense effort master my emotions so I could speak calmly to this spiteful old crone. “Why do you hate the contessa’s husband so much? Has he done you any harm?”
    She straightened as much as she was able and stared at me with unrelenting force. “I’ll tell you why I hate him. You are an intelligent woman,” she answered with a sneer about the corners of her vile mouth. “I like intelligent women, but sometimes they’re easily fooled by men. That’s when a woman should take revenge. I was intelligent and strong myself once. You are old, so will understand. Dario Gismondi has done me harm. When his horse knocked me down in the street, he laughed at me. I was hurt, but I saw his lips widen and his white teeth glitter. He has an enchanting smile, the people will tell you. So innocent! Someone picked me up, but it wasn’t him. His carriage drove on. His wife was not with him otherwise I know she would have stopped to help me. But it doesn’t matter, because he laughed and it was then that I saw the likeness.”
    “ The likeness?” Her story annoyed me. “What likeness?”
    “ Between him and my husband,” she replied, fixing her cruel eyes upon me with increasing intensity. “Oh, si ! I know what love is. I married a man as handsome as a morning in spring with eyes as gentle as a tiny child who looks up and asks you for kisses. I was away from home once. When I returned home I found him sleeping with a black-browed beauty from Venice as brash and as brazen as a lioness. While they