Dark Shimmer by Donna Jo Napoli Page B

practically yelp. I turn to the signora. “Another time, please? Let me see you to the stairs.”
    The signora’s eyes cloud. Her whole face falls. “That’s quite all right. I know my way. These palaces are in my blood.” She walks out, leaving the door ajar. Her shoes click on the polished floor, then clop on the rougher stairs.
    “Forgive me for interrupting you,” I say to Marin. “And thank you.”
    “It was no problem.”
    My hands go to my hair nervously. I quickly lower them. I don’t want to be this way around him. I want him to see me as I am. That thought makes me pause. How greedy I am: here I have a chance to marry, perhaps, and I want more….I want to be loved truly. “You sounded annoyed.”
    Marin gives a rueful little laugh. “I was. First, all that nonsense about me ruining this place. Then she called you a visitor. Twice. You are, of course. It was unreasonable for me to react like that.” He hands me a clean cloth. “Come stand beside me. Let’s turn our little play into the truth. I’ll work on the top of the page, you work on the bottom. Wipe carefully everywhere. The point is to remove moisture and anything that carries moisture—any bit of mold. The smallest amount can cause a page to crumble. And dirt—a speck of dust is an enemy.”
    I take the cloth and press down.
    His hand instantly catches mine and lifts it. “Gently. This is an old book. Fragile.”
    My hand tingles at his touch. I avoid his eyes, but nod and start over, patting softly. We finish the page and Marin teaches me to blow across the surface to remove anything the cloth missed. It’s important to make a tight circle of my lips so the air is cool and dry, rather than hot and wet. Then we turn the page, holding top and bottom corners and moving it evenly.
    We work in silence. A second page. A third.
    “Thank you,” I say.
    He nods.
    “I wasn’t intending to interrupt you, but I panicked.”
    “You’re afraid of her?”
    “She might hate me. Agnola’s afraid of that, too.”
    “She has no reason to dislike you, Dolce. No one does. You’re unusual, that’s all. They’ll get used to you.”
    “You’re wrong. People had plans, and I upset them.”
    “How?”
    “Maybe her oldest daughter is meant for you.”
    Marin puts down his cloth and stares at me. “You always surprise me. You’ve been here a month, so I should be used to your directness by now.”
    “I’m blunt. Agnola is trying to teach me to—”
    “No. Don’t change. Not with me, at least. I’m grateful for your ways.” He takes a deep breath. “The Contarini daughter cannot be thinking of me. I cannot say what she looks like. Or even recall her name.”
    “Agnola told me that girls here are betrothed to men they don’t know. Family alliances.”
    Marin smiles. “I know. This is my world. But no one is betrothed to me.”
    “She might want to be, though. Any girl could wind up married to someone…decrepit and smelly, as Bianca would say. Or mean.”
    Marin folds his arms across his chest. “Are you saying I’m not mean, decrepit, or smelly?” His eyes tease. I smile, and he says, “There’s more to a person than what you see in the here and now.”
    “I know. Agnola told me how you’ve suffered…losing your wife and son. It made me feel…that mere breathing hurt.”
    Marin’s whole self tightens. He steps closer.
    “The signora wants to get rid of me because I’m in her way,” I say. “I can understand that. She doesn’t hate me because of what she sees, but what she fears.”
    Marin steps closer still. His breath stirs my hair. “Who has ever hated you because of what they saw?”
    “Nearly everyone. My ugliness shocked them.”
    “Ugliness?” He shakes his head. “Would you please explain?”
    I knew it would come to this. “Will you swear not to send me back home?”
    “Is there a reason I would?”
    “No. I have no one there. No family at all.”
    “Then I swear.”
    “I lived on Torcello, in a community