AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Papa winked at Dante. “We shall meet again!”
“You shall rue the day!”
And they both laughed.
CHAPTER EIGHT
It was early morning when Franco arrived at Villa Zito in Bagheria, having ridden through the night to avoid the heat. The town was east of Palermo on the coast of the Tyrrhenian Sea, and many nobles maintained summer residences here, among them Villa Butera, which was owned by the Prince of Butera, and the bizarre Villa Palagonia with its statuary of goblins and monsters. Villa Zito had been in Baron Zito’s family for generations and was his favorite of his three residences.
Franco cantered up the long road to the villa, which cut through a luxuriant garden dotted with cypresses, red camellias, pink and white roses, giant aloe, agave with yellow flowers, and trees full of purple plums. Franco thought it was a shame not to grow lemons here, but Baron Zito refused, saying Villa Zito would never become a business, a true lady among prostitutes.
The villa itself was situated on a gentle bluff overlooking the water, privileging arrivals by sea. It had a limestone façade that absorbed the glorious sunshine, rising three stories high. Each window was topped by engravings and had its own balcony with a potbellied railing of wrought iron, trailing pink frangipani. Large porches anchored both sides, cooling the villa even in a Sicilian summer.
Franco headed for the stables, where Baron Zito would have justreturned from his morning hunt. He reached the courtyard and stone barn to find the Baron watching his British trainer lunge his white stallion. Baron Zito was about the same age as Franco’s father, but he looked younger, having enjoyed a privileged life. He stood tall and lean, and his refined features decorated a long face framed by light brown hair. His britches were grass-stained, which meant he had fallen.
“Good morning, Baron Zito.” Franco dismounted, patted the mare’s wet neck, and handed her to a groom.
“Good to see you.” The Baron’s light eyes went flinty in the sunshine. “How was the trip here?”
“Fine, thank you.” Franco knew what the Baron wanted to hear about the kidnapped boy and would tell him obliquely, since they weren’t alone. “Baron Zito, I dealt with that matter you asked me to. It’s all taken care of.”
“Bravissimo, Franco!” The Baron threw open his arms and hugged Franco, which was unusual for him. “What a load off my mind! So that ends the matter?”
“Absolutely.”
“I knew I could count on you!”
“Thank you.” Franco basked in the Baron’s approval, feeling closer to him than before. The Baron would never know the boy was hidden in the madhouse, rather than buried in the dirt. Nor would he learn of Claudio’s murder, which Franco had been trying to push from his mind.
“Franco, look, I took a tumble this morning.” Baron Zito chuckled, gesturing at his britches. “Arabo saw a deer and took me for quite a ride. I know he’s young, but I thought I was a better horseman. Perhaps you can give me a lesson someday?”
“Anytime, but if Arabo wants you off, then off you’ll go.”
“That’s the truth!” Baron Zito beamed, clapping him on the shoulder. “Niall says if we tire the animal, he’ll mind his manners.”
“I disagree.” Franco disliked the British prig to whom the Baron had entrusted his magnificent Arabian stallion. “I would never lunge Arabo. He doesn’t need it. He’s too smart to go around like a windup toy.”
Niall interjected, “It tires him!”
“Itboreshim!” Franco shouted back. “Hell, it boresme.”
Baron Zito laughed. “It bores me, too!”
Niall scowled. “Franco, what do you know? You’re not trained.”
“What Sicilian is?” Franco burst into laughter, and so did Baron Zito, since they shared something that the Englishman never could. Native blood.
Niall shook his head. “Franco, you grew up on donkeys!”
“Horses!” Franco simmered, knowing he would never forget this slur.
Niall turned away and raised his whip, about to bring it down on Arabo.
“No!” Franco rushed forward to stop him.
“Don’t tell me how to discipline my horses!”
“They’re Baron Zito’s, not yours!”
