Page 77 of Dark Tides
“But it’s not never again,” Alinor observed. “Unless she saves her money and retires a lady.”
“I know,” Sarah said. “I know. But she’s the same age as me—think of me having my own house and slave!”
“I’d rather not!” Alinor said with a smile. “Think of your keeper! Is the man old and fat and ugly?”
“Yes,” Sarah conceded. “I suppose it’s not worth it.”
“It’s a bad bargain for a woman,” Alinor agreed. “Aside from the sin—if you have a baby or two, it’s a bad start for them, poor little angels—and not their fault.”
“No, I know. I am outstandingly virtuous, you know, Grandma?”
Alinor laughed. “Coming from a house like this and a mother like yours, you could hardly help it. There is no way you could be false.”
“False?” the girl repeated.
“Counterfeit,” her grandmother said. “Appearing as one thing but being another.”
“You think Livia is false?” the girl said acutely.
“Quite the opposite! She never takes a false step, she never strikes a wrong note. She’s never uncertain. It’s as if everything is… practiced… like a performance. And every step is for her own good, whatever she promises your ma.”
“People do strange things. How can we know? If you think she’s up to something, shouldn’t we ask her directly? Put it to her? In all honesty?”
The older woman shook her head. “Better to let her continue as she is—using this house as her home, launching her business and herself, making money from your ma’s wharf, battening on a stranger. Going far from here, and yet coming back every night. Using us, and seeming to love us, promising everything; but taking, taking, taking, all the time.”
Sarah gave a little hiss, and found that her hand was clenched in the old sign to ward off witchcraft, her thumb between her first two fingers. “You make her sound evil.”
“I don’t know what she is.”
“So how will we find out?”
The old woman did not reply.
“How, Grandma? How shall we ever know?”
Slowly Alinor turned away from the window to Sarah, and her face was no longer haunted, but lit with a mischievous smile, as if she were still a wild girl on the edge of the mire, with gifts she dared not use, and a pocket full of valueless tokens. “I’ve been wondering how to answer these questions,” she admitted, her gray eyes dancing. “And I’ve got an idea. I think it’s a good idea. D’you really want to know?”
“Yes! Of course I do. I’ve mistrusted her from the first moment I saw her and now… even more.”
“So, Sarah, why don’t you go to Venice?”
“What?”
“Go to Venice, go to Livia’s warehouse, find her steward, see if he is the trustworthy grandfather that she describes, who loved Rob like his own son? See where they lived, see what family Livia left in the great palace she speaks of. Speak to Rob’s patients, ask what they thought of the young couple.”
Sarah’s lips parted. “Go to Venice?”
“Why not?”
“And find Livia’s true past?”
“Don’t you want to?”
“Yes! Yes I do. But I’m not freed from my apprenticeship.”
“I know. Go when you’re free!”
“I wouldn’t know where…” Slowly her refusal trailed into silence as she thought of the adventure she might undertake. “Of course!” she said simply. “What a chance! What an adventure! Of course, I’ll go!”
