and Sanchia instinctively turned to comfort her. "It will be
all right. I'll find a way to take care of you."
"But Sanchia, what can you do?"
Lion studied Sanchia. The fury illuminating Sanchia's face was suddenly gone, and it
gave him food for thought. If he had allowed her defiance of Ballano to continue, the sale
might well have fallen through. Had the girl's anger only been a pretense directed toward
that aim? "Yes, Sanchia, what can you do?" he ask silkily. "I'm beginning to wonder who
was the slave all these years you've been with Ballano."
She turned to look at him. "There was no question who was the slave," she said bitterly.
"But you don't deny you were pretending anger just now to get what you wanted."
She shook her head. "No pretense. I was angry, but I wouldn't have let it run free if I
hadn't thought it might keep Giovanni from selling me."
"A dangerous device. He might have hurt you badly."
"I would have healed. He wouldn't have killed me while I still have value to him. He's a
fool, not a madman."
"You appear to know him well. But you don't know me at all. I'm not a fool, Sanchia."
Sanchia shivered. "I did not think you a fool. I wouldn't make that mistake."
"Here it is." Giovanni hurried toward them, a frayed leather folder in his hands. He
handed the folder to Lion and received the purse of ducats in return. "I bought them both
from a Spaniard who assured me they came of good strong stock. You've made a fine
purchase."
"An interesting one at any rate." Lion was abruptly filled with disgust and an
overwhelming urgency to be done with the man. "Go get your things, Sanchia. We're
leaving this place."
Giovanni said quickly, "There's nothing for her to get. Slaves don't have possessions, my
lord."
Sanchia lifted shaking fingers to her throbbing temple, trying to think. "I can't leave yet.
There's Elizabet."
Giovanni's gaze shifted to Elizabet. "Elizabet is no longer your concern. However, I may
be able to use her. She keeps the shop clean and I'll need someone to--"
"No," Sanchia said flatly. "She isn't going to stay here."
"And where else would she go?" Giovanni asked. "I'll give her a roof over her head and
food for her belly. She can't expect more. I may take Bartolomeo, too, but Piero will have
to go. He's too young to be of any help."
"You'll not keep any of them." Sanchia turned to Elizabet. "Go find Bartolomeo and
Piero and meet me in the piazza."
Elizabet gazed at her in confusion.
"Hurry!" Sanchia gave her a little push. "All will be well."
"Stay," Giovanni ordered. "Obey me, Elizabet."
Elizabet gave him a frightened glance and fled from the shop.
Giovanni began to curse vehemently and obscenely as he turned to Sanchia. "They'll
starve in the streets. You'll see, you arrogant bitch."
"No, they won't. I'll not let them starve." She gave him a level look over her shoulder as
she moved toward the door. "And I'll not let them be used by you either. I know what
you'd do to them if I weren't here. Bartolomeo would soon be as much a slave to you as I
was and Elizabet would become your whore. I'll see you burn in hell before I let that
happen." She turned to Lion. "We can go now."
"Thank you." Heavy irony laced Lion's tone. "May I remind you that it's you who
belongs to me and not I to you?" He followed her from the shop into the street.
"No reminder is necessary." She drew her shawl closer to ward off the chill that came as
much from the emotions storming through her as the coolness following the rain. She had
to plan, she thought dully, but she was so exhausted and dazed it was difficult to think.
"Why did you buy me?"
"Because it suited me, a whim perhaps."
She shook her head. "You're not an impulsive man. I don't think you'd do anything
without a reason."
"You find me so easy to read?" Lion asked softly. "You'd be more clever to hide that
ability."
"I
have
to understand you." She turned to look at him, desperation threading her voice. "I
have to try to see what you are and what you
Rebecca Hamilton, Conner Kressley