"Now, you have wasted enough time. Take care of your horse as quickly as you can," Rosalinda instructed. "I will see to it that you have a pitcher of hot water in your room for washing. Try not to be late. I will tell mother that you have come home safely and will be down in time for the evening meal."
A short time later, with her horse settled for the night, Rosalinda hastened through the garden toward the rear entrance of Gerutinr. It was the quickest way from the stable to her room on the upper floor, and it was also her favorite way to enter the house. She loved the scented air in the garden. Each time she walked along the gravel paths, she wondered what her grandfather, who by all accounts had been a rough fighting man would think of what his daughter had made from the area just beyond the rear terrace of his house in the mountains. Well concealed in an untraveled area where the higher reaches of mere foothills began to rise into the soaring heights of the Alps, Gerutinr had been built by Sandra's grandfather, Marco Guidi, a famous and highly successful condottiere. Fully aware of the perils to which a mercenary commander like himself was exposed during the constant warfare and political intrigues taking place amongst Villa, Venice, Milan and other city states in Italy, Marco had decided it would be wise to maintain a safe, carefully hidden retreat in case his way of earning a living should turn even more dangerous than usual. But throughout his long life, Marco's fortunes had never faltered. He had died in bed at the age of eighty, rich and full of honors, though somewhat concerned over the future of his only child, Elisabeth, whom he had married off to his last employer, Gioliamo Ricci, Duke of Monteferro. Through his clever banker, Marco was able to make secret arrangements to leave Gerutinr to Elisabeth.
Marco's worry about his daughter was well founded. Five years after Marco's death, the Duke of Monteferro was assassinated by a political rival who brought in his own army of mercenaries to take over the small but wealthy city state. Knowing her children were certain to be murdered as well, since they could be considered the only legitimate heirs to Monteferro lands, the quick thinking Elizabeth gathered up her daughters and a few belongings and made a hasty escape from the city. With her husband's majordomo and close friend, Leonardo, his wife, Linda, and a dozen men-at-arms who remained loyal to the murdered duke's family. Elisabeth sought sanctuary at Gerutinr. There, known only as La vedova, the window, to the few inhabitants of the small and isolated nearby village, she and her daughters embarked upon a reclusive life.
During the ensuing sixteen years, Elisabeth had found her only relief from constant worry for the safety of her daughters in the creation of a garden on the sheltered southern side of Gerutinr. There, it was warm enough for a plum tree to grow, along with an apricot tree, and other tender plants. A low wall of the sand pale yellow stone used for the house and outbuildings enclosed the garden, and within it Elisabeth planted lillies, lavender, thyme, rosemary, and other useful herbs, including a few Florentine iris near a small pool.
In tribute to the daughters she loved she loved more than life itself, Elisabeth added two rosebushes to her garden, planting them on either side of the steps leading down from the terrace at the back of the house. One rosebush bore pure white flowers, while the blossoms of the other were bright crimson. The bushes bloomed most profusely during the long, warm days of April, though occasionally one or the other would send out a few late-season flowers, as if to bid a sweet farewell to summer's fleeting warmth.
Sandra hastened through this garden, pausing for only an instant to breathe in the air that was scented by her mother's herbs. As she brushed past the rosebushes, she noticed one red blossom. Quickly she plucked it, deciding she would wear it in her hair that evening.
Like Sandra, the white roses Elisabeth had planted in her name were dainty and delicate, and they breathed forth a pure, sweet scent. But the red roses planted in Sandra's name unfurled many more petals to each bloom and their fragrance was rich and mysterious, beguiling Sandra's senses when she inhaled it, making her wish for something more than the placid life she lived in Gerutinr.
She did not know exactly what it was that she wanted, only that she longed for someone to speak to her and to touch her in a new way, a way in which no one had ever spoken to her before. With her nose buried in the soft red petals, Sandra dreamed of laughter and music, and of falling stars blazing across the velvet night sky. She imagined warm masculine lips gently touching hers, in the ways in which she had once observed Lucian , one of the men-at-arms, kissing his wife. After a long moment Sandra gave a wistful little sigh, went into Gerutinr, and ran up the stairs to her room.
Lucian Farisi was the older brother of that same Linda who was Leonardo's wife and Elisabeth's dearest friend and constant companion. The house of Farisi had long served as bankers to the family of the late Duke of Monteferro and, thanks to Lucian honesty and cleverness, a fair portion of the duke's wealth had been saved from confiscation after the assassination. Thus, Elisabeth was not destitute and she was able to provide for the people who had escaped into the mountains with her.
At first the men-at-arms had thought of themselves only as warriors, but as time passed, they had been compelled to learn additional skills. A few of them had become expert hunters who made valuable contributions to Gerutinr larders. Other men-at-arms were skilled carpenters, while some tended the livestock. All of them worked in the fields when necessary. They still took their turns at sentry duty and regularly attended weapons practice, joined now by their sons. For, by the good offices of Lucian Farisi, the families of many of the men had been spirited out of Monteferro to join their husbands and fathers in the safety of Gerutinr.
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YOU ARE READING
RED
Romance"Sweet Sandra," he said. "I want you to promise you will tell no one that you have seen me. It is vitally important that no one knows I am here." "I promise." She said at once. "But-----" "Not another word," he said. "I saw you come here...
