Page 49 of Bloodlines and Birthright

The abbot shrugged. “So?”

Oscar changed tack. “You hate your brother, yet you helped him by giving him the books, asking for nothing in return.”

The abbot tucked his hands up the sleeves of his robe, and for one dreadful moment I worried he had a knife hidden there, until he slipped his hands out, empty. “Pietro is greedy and depraved, but our family is more than just him, or me. Neither of us have children, so the Scala legacy means everything, and the legacy is the business. Pietro needs my help or he will ruin everything.” He pointed at the door. “Now you understand why I helped him, so go.”

We’d get nothing more from him, if there was indeed more to get. I left the office first, the other two on my heels. Up ahead, I caught sight of Brother Eduardo peeping out of the library. He quickly ducked back inside.

The abbot did not join us in the corridor, and slammed the office door in our faces.

“You two go ahead,” I said. “I want to see the library one last time.”

Chapter 16

I found Brother Eduardo looking out of one of the large windows, perhaps waiting to see us cross the forecourt below. Upon hearing the library door open, he spun around. The sudden movement caused him pain. He sucked air between his teeth and reached for his lower back. Changing his mind at the last moment, he pressed his hand to his side.

“You’re hurt?” I asked, going to him.

He lowered his hand. “It is nothing.”

“So you haven’t just been flagellating yourself with that switch?” I indicated the slim, supple branches tied together with leather in the corner of the library.

Brother Eduardo didn’t move. Didn’t even blink. He seemed to be caught somewhere between shame and horror. He didn’t utter a sound in denial or protest. His mind must have gone blank.

“I know why you punish yourself,” I said.

Brother Eduardo shook his head, but his cheeks betrayed him. They flushed scarlet. He looked down at the floor. I’d hoped I wouldn’t have to spell it out—this was not something men of my acquaintance discussed with one another—but I couldn’t let him suffer.

I drew in a fortifying breath and pressed on. “You do it because you have thoughts about other men, and your faith tells you those thoughts are wrong, and that you are deficient in moral character for having them.”

Brother Eduardo didn’t move. He stood utterly still with his head bowed.

“I want you to know that you’re not depraved or deficient. You simply love differently. What you feel is not a sin. It’s natural for you.”

“It is a sin.” He said it so softly I barely heard him.

I took a step closer but maintained a respectable distance between us. “How can the way a man is born be a sin? If your faith tells you that God’s creations are beautiful and He created you this way, does that not mean you are beautiful?”

Brother Eduardo’s hand started to shake, then he looked up and I saw his chin shuddering, too. A tear slipped from one eye down his flushed cheek. “You understand.”

“In a way, but not the way you think.”

His brow creased. “But you have these thoughts, too?”

“No. But I suspect more men than you realize do have them.”

“Signore Scala,” he said.

“And his lover. Perhaps you should find a way to confide in them without the abbot knowing. Perhaps they can help you come to terms with your thoughts.” I indicated the switch darkened with blood. “You must do something other than that. Flogging the flesh from your back is not working, is it? It doesn’t stop the thoughts.”

Brother Eduardo shook his head. “The abbot will find out if I speak to Signore Scala.”

I smiled, very aware that it was a rather wicked smile yet unable to curb it. “Then you should blackmail him. Tell him you’ll inform the bishop he gave some valuable abbey books to his own brother to then sell for a small fortune which went into the coffers of the family business.”

“His brother?”

“Signore Scala.” At Brother Eduardo’s gasp, I added, “Don’t worry if Scala finds out you confided in the bishop. I still believe he’ll be a friend to you. In fact, I suspect he’d be quite happy to see the abbot in trouble with his superiors.”

I couldn’t tell whether Brother Eduardo would follow through and inform the bishop. Indeed, I couldn’t tell if he would confide his thoughts to Signore Scala and seek advice and comfort in the knowledge he was not alone. I suspected he’d go on just as he always had, thinking himself an abomination because that’s what had been drummed into him for years. But in that moment, he looked almost euphoric at the prospect of exorcising the demons from his mind. And that made me feel very satisfied indeed.