Starling (135 page)

Matteo Querini and should pass into his possession when
he comes of age. However, my personal belongings secured

away in trunks and crates on the lower level of Villa
Querini are my own property and are to be surrendered
only to Cassandra. In the event that she would die
prior to taking control of my belongings, I leave my
entire estate to the women of Palazzo Dolce.

Agnese had signed the bottom of the parchment in her familiar
loopy scrawl.
“Why on earth would she bequeath her belongings to the women
of Palazzo Dolce?” Cass asked incredulously. “How did she even
know of its existence?” Her aunt had always been fond of helping
women less fortunate than herself, but Cass would have expected her
to donate her things to a convent, not a brothel.
A smile played at Narissa’s thin lips. “I . . . ,” she trailed off.
“What?” Cass asked, her voice shrill. She looked down at the
parchment again to make sure she hadn’t read it wrong.
“I guess it would be all right to tell you,” Narissa said. “You’ll
hear eventually anyway. Your aunt was a courtesan before she got
married. She once lived at Palazzo Dolce.”
“No,” Cass said. “That’s impossible. She’s my mother’s sister.
She’s the eldest daughter of noble blood.”
Narissa nodded. “Indeed. But at some point she angered the man
your grandparents arranged for her to marry. He wouldn’t have her,
and she had no desire to enter the convent. So she packed up her
things and went off to be a courtesan. She didn’t want you to know.
She thought you might . . . think less of her.”
Cass was stunned. Stodgy old Agnese had been a courtesan? She
wondered if the elderly woman at Palazzo Dolce, Rosannah, might
have known her. She
had
said that Cass reminded her of someone.
Perhaps they’d shared an admirer along the way, and that’s how they
had ended up with similar bracelets.
“I found this as well,” Narissa said. She handed Cass a leatherbound book.
It was a journal. Cass didn’t even know Agnese kept a journal.
Almost without thinking, she started to open it.
But it was locked.
Narissa winked. “And these.” She tossed Cass a tarnished ring of
keys. There had to be twenty or more on the rusted metal circle, but
only one of them was small enough to fit into the journal’s tiny lock.
“I suppose I’ll leave you to your own devices,” Narissa said. “I’ve
got some mending to do, but Cook is going to fix a proper dinner a bit
later. I do hope you’ll stay.”
“I was actually meaning to ask you if I could stay until Matteo
arrives,” Cass said. “Luca sold Palazzo da Peraga, and although we
do have other options, there’s nowhere we’d rather be than here.”
Narissa beamed. “I’ll have someone make up your old room and
the adjoining suite.”
She tottered off toward the back of the house, leaving Cass alone
in Agnese’s portego with the journal. Cass decided to take it down to
the storage room and see how many of the chests she could open. She
suddenly remembered the crate of jewels and gold. She had been so
stunned to find out about Agnese’s past that it eclipsed the revelation
she was now a wealthy woman.
Slipper scampered down the main stairs as if he had heard Cass’s