Page 48 of Bloodlines and Birthright

Maria released the cross and patted her chest, relieved her neighbor was unharmed.

We all tiptoed out of the courtyard and returned to the piazza. Maria and Miss Wheeler exchanged a few words, with Maria clasping Miss Wheeler’s hands. Her gaze flicked more than once to Oscar who was flexing his fingers after his climb. He seemed quite unconcerned by the attention.

The three of us headed out of Pecco, but didn’t speak until we’d left the houses behind. Then Oscar told us he’d seen the widow and a boy aged about thirteen asleep on the bed.

“I can’t tell you how good it feels to know the lad is alive,” he said. “But it’s no life for him to be shut away like that. Signora Colombo needs to rethink her plan.”

“The plan is for them to leave Pecco,” Miss Wheeler told him. “Tonight, I suspect. Professor Nash and I saw a case on the kitchen table.”

“You went inside? Without me?”

“You were busy with your own very important task, Mr. Barratt. You confirmed that the boy is alive.”

“I suppose so.”

“It was very well done, scaling the wall like that.”

His back straightened at Miss Wheeler’s praise. She smiled ever so slightly in response. I wondered if he realized she was manipulating him. I wondered if he let her.

The walk up to the abbey didn’t seem quite so arduous as last time, despite the heat and humidity. Also unlike last time, we were not permitted to enter beyond the gate. The monk guarding it wouldn’t let us through, despite Miss Wheeler’s attempts at convincing him. When a monk who spoke English was finally fetched, Oscar had reached the end of his patience.

He simply walked in. One of the monks grabbed his arm but Oscar shook him off. The other monk shouted, bringing two more into the forecourt, garden rakes in hand. The abbot rushed out, too, and snapped in Italian. Upon seeing us, he switched to English.

“You disturb our peace, Mr. Barratt. What do you want this time?”

Oscar readjusted his sleeve, crumpled at the shoulder from the manhandling. “May we talk to you in private, Father Abbot?”

“What you have to say to me can be said in front of my brethren.”

“I doubt that. It’s about your family. Your secular one, not this one.”

The abbot went quite still. Then, with a mere jut of his chin, he indicated we should follow him.

I looked for Brother Eduardo as we made our way to the abbot’s office, but he wasn’t with the other monks. He must be in his beloved library, too intent on his studies to notice the commotion in the forecourt.

The abbot closed the office door behind us. “Speak.”

“We know you and Signore Scala are brothers,” Oscar said.

The abbot looked unsurprised. He must have guessed that we’d learned the connection from Oscar’s comment in the forecourt. “Si. And?”

“And you gave some valuable books from the abbey library to your brother without getting anything in return. I doubt your bishop would appreciate that.”

“Are you threatening me, Mr. Barratt? Why? What do you want?”

“We want to know why you really argued with Giovanni Colombo. We know it’s not about his son’s funeral.”

“It was.”

Oscar merely waited. He waited so long that the abbot felt compelled to fill the silence.

“If you know Pietro is my brother then you will also know that Colombo stole our family spell from him.”

“Allegedly,” Miss Wheeler added.

The abbot ignored her. His gaze didn’t move from Oscar’s face. “Pietro told me this when I gave him the books. So I confronted the boatbuilder and asked for the spell back. He denied he had it. I did not believe him. We argued.”

“Your brother didn’t tell us he’d told you about the spell,” Oscar went on.