Starling (33 page)

up.”
Donna Domacetti! She wore the ring of the Order. It was likely
that Dubois himself would show up to a party at Palazzo Domacetti.
But could Cass sneak into her palazzo without being recognized? She
would have to. She would do whatever it took to determine if Belladonna and Dubois were working together, and whether Cristian was
working for one or both of them. She would do whatever it took to
find the Book of the Eternal Rose.
The folded parchment from Palazzo Viaro suddenly weighed
heavy inside her pocket. The rest of the book had to be somewhere
in Venice.
“But if you’re going to stay here, even just for the night, we’ll need
to concoct a believable tale for the rest of the girls.” Octavia fiddled
with the lace neckline of her bodice. “Let us leave it as you said,” she
continued. “You betrayed your fiancé and he cast you out. You’re
going to stay the night here and perhaps tomorrow to examine your
options, to see if the life of a courtesan might work for you.”
“All right,” Cass said. It would work as well as any other story, she
supposed, though it hit uncomfortably close to home. What
would
Luca do if he found out about Falco? It wasn’t as if she and Falco had
lain together, but she had definitely thought about it. And there had
been so many romantic moments. She didn’t even want to think about
how devastated Luca would be to find out she had spent so much
time alone in the company of another man.
“And your name will be Capricia,” Octavia declared, a hint of a
smile forming on her thin lips. “But in return for my kindness and
discretion, I need you to do me a favor.”
“Anything,” Cass said, immediately regretting her wording. She
had no experience—and no intention of garnering any here—with
some of the various
activities
that might be required of a courtesan.
“Is there any chance you know how to read?” Octavia asked.
Cass nodded. “My aunt arranged tutors for me. She was quite
nontraditional when it came to my upbringing. I can even read in
French.”
“Splendid. I need you to work with Flavia for a day or two,” Octavia said. “The poor girl has little skill at dance or music, but claims
an older sister taught her to read. I thought maybe you could help her
select a few stories or poems that she could use to entertain her clients? Perhaps even teach her a bit of decorum at the same time?”
“I’ll do my best,” Cass promised.
“Excellent,” Maximus said from behind her. “So glad that’s settled.”
Octavia rose from her chair. “I’ll show you to your temporary
quarters.” Her lips quirked into another smile. “Maximus, will you
be staying the night with your friend?”
“Oh no,” Maximus said.
Cass felt her cheeks go red. She looked away, toward the window
behind Octavia’s desk. It was too dark to see outside, but the glass
was dry, as if maybe the storm had blown past.
“What I mean is—” Maximus cleared his throat. “Signorina
Capricia
is lovely, but I came hoping to spend the night with you,” he
said, taking Octavia’s hand in his and kissing it gently. “But first.” He
turned to Cass. “You cannot carry a tiny vegetable knife and think it
will protect you.” Bending down, he pulled a sheathed dagger from
his boot. “Take this. Keep it as long as you need to.”
Cass slid the dagger from its leather casing. The blade was made