"There's a contact form here, but no phone number. Would messaging her be too...young?" Cosimo asked, uncertain. What was wrong with him? He had never been nervous around women, or academics, for that matter.
"Oh my god, Dad, really? Just message her!" Bas said, all out of patience.
"Don't bother. I already emailed her." Bridget had come into the kitchen behind him, but Cosimo had been too caught up in his head to notice.
He turned in his chair. "E tu, Bridget? I thought you would be on my side."
"I am." Bridget put an arm around his shoulders and kissed him on the cheek. "But I really, really want to meet her. Have you seen that list of books? Three of them are some of my all-time favorites."
"I thought you loved me," Cosimo said, feeling betrayed.
"I do, but I love Bas more, and he needed numbers for dinner." She laughed brightly. "Dear gods, you should see your face right now. Now I know where Apollo gets his famous pout from."
"I am not pouting," Cosimo grumbled.
Bas's smirk was insufferable. "Kind of are, Dad. It's unlike you, and that just makes us more curious about the woman who has caused it. Any reply from Marcella yet?"
Bridget shook her head. "No, but I told her in the message she's expected by 7 p.m. If she doesn't turn up, I'll eat her share," she replied and stared at the picture on Cosimo's phone over his shoulder. "Is that good photography, or is she really that hot?
"No." Cosimo sighed, thinking of the tattoo on her ankle. "She's actually hotter in real life."
Bridget patted his back in a consolatory manner. "Poor guy."
They left Cosimo sitting at the counter, scrolling through Marcella's website and feeling like not only was Henry working against him, but his own children too. His frown deepened as he looked through the articles and books she had written. They were mainly on Renaissance alchemy and folk practices, highlighting roles of women and 'kitchen alchemy.'
Cosimo's curiosity was insatiable when it was roused, and he couldn't help but wonder what exactly Marcella was searching for...and what he would have to do to find out.
7
Marcella stood in front of the villa's gate in Arcetri and asked herself what the hell she was doing there. She had expected Cosimo Greatdrakes to lose his patience and contact her, but a dinner invitation was the last thing she had anticipated.
She had been more than a little surprised to receive the email, asking if she would like to come over to discuss how they could help each other with their mutual research projects. She hadn't been asked for an RSVP. The message just said they would expect her in the evening.
Standing in front of the house, Marcella wondered why she had agreed to it, and why her stomach was filling with nerves. She adjusted the red carnation clip in her hair that held up her braid, in case it had slipped loose. There were no stains or accidental marks on the black and white polka dot dress she was wearing or on her velvet ankle boots.
Blessed Mother, she hadn't been nervous like this on her way to the Uffizi, so it made no sense why she would be now.
You didn't know how handsome he was before that. Marcella scowled, thought of her tarot spread, and wished shehadn't. She had pulled cards every day since, and every day they had been the same.
"You are only here because you are curious about what books he has. You aren't agreeing to anything. Besides, it's one meal you don't have to worry about cooking for yourself," she whispered under her breath.
Marcella shook her hands, the protective charms on her bracelet making a tinkling sound, and she opened the gate. The touch of protective wards made her pause, but they seemed to recognize her, and she met no resistance as she walked to the large front door.
Straightening her shoulders, Marcella rang the doorbell. It swung open to reveal a stunning blonde woman with a bright smile.
"Hello! You must be the lovely witch we are having for dinner," she said, with a delighted smile.
"Buonasera. I'm Marcella," she greeted and held out a hand.
The beautiful blonde shook it, magic pulsing between their palms, and she all but tugged Marcella inside.
Marcella shouldn't have been surprised that Cosimo had a gorgeous younger woman as his partner. Men like him usually did. What was surprising was the stab of disappointment that hit her in the ribs. She covered her unease with a smooth smile. She should be relieved that theLoverscard had only meant a partnership after all.
"You're early," a man said, coming down a set of stairs. He was striking in a dark and dangerous way, heavily tattooed and with a smile that was exactly like Cosimo's. He slid a protective arm around the blonde. "I'm Valentine Greatdrakes, and I see you have met my Yelena."
"Ah, the prodigy sorcerer," Marcella said, recognizing the name and reputation immediately. She ignored the flash of relief that Yelena wasn't Cosimo's partner after all, and she shookValentine's outstretched hand. Another sharp jolt of power seared her fingers, and his eyes flashed scarlet before returning to their gray hue.
"It's a pleasure to meet the woman who has had my level-headed father up in arms for months," Valentine said, his grin widening.
