"Hmm," said the old lady. "That night at my reception I thought you and the young Count de Gobignon were attracted to each other." Sophia felt a strange stab of guilt. "Oh, he is too far above me, Contessa," she said. "A count. David is a merchant. We are right for each other." _It is true that David and I are much more suited than Simon and I._ "It makes me feel young for a moment to see a beautiful woman in love." The contessa stroked Sophia's cheek with dry, rough fingers. Sophia opened her eyes wide and looked the contessa full in the face. "Please help us, Contessa, for the sake of love." The contessa sighed and smiled. "I will send for d'Ucello. I will request that he stop questioning your friend." She looked across at Ugolini. "You must give me your word, Your Eminence, that this David will not leave Orvieto until all doubts about him are settled." "Oh, thank you, thank you!" Sophia kissed the shiny knuckles, wetting the blue-veined hand with her tears. "Sophia, stand up," said Ugolini, touching her shoulder. "This is embarrassing." Vittorio helped her to her feet, holding her waist more tightly than was necessary. _Embarrassing? If not for my outburst, there would be no hope of freeing Daoud._ _But I must live in terror awhile longer. Until I know he is well. That they have not done anything to him. Oh, God, let him come back to me healthy and whole._ LIII Rachel sat on a divan by the window in her room. She had drawn the curtains back and pushed the shutters open so that she could see out and feel the cool breeze. She held a small leather-bound book in her hand, _Geography of the World_, by Yucaf ibn Faruzi, a Spanish Jew. It was one of the small store of books Angelo had owned, written in Hebrew, that she had kept with her to help her pass the long hours she spent alone. Besides enjoying reading, she felt she was somehow pleasing Angelo, who had taught her to read Hebrew. She was reading about Egypt when the second storm of the morning struck Orvieto and the window no longer admitted enough light to read by. A few water droplets blew in through the open window to fall on the open pages. She carefully blotted them up with the hem of her satin robe, but she was afraid more rain would damage the vellum pages. So she shut the book, and watched the lightning flash and listened to the thunder. Tilia's house was built halfway down an incline, so Sophia could see water foaming in the ditch that ran through the center of the street. So heavy was the rain that waves were flowing down the cobblestones. Where a raindrop struck the water, the splash was like a little crown. A dark shadow appeared at the high end of the street, a hooded figure. Another followed, and another. They rose higher and higher, until she could see that they were riding horses. What were men doing out in a storm like this? Were they coming here?