An Imperfect Revenge – David George Clarke

“Immediately after each meal, signora, not before. The medicine is of far less value if you take it on an empty stomach. Two teaspoonfuls each time, and do remember to shake the bottle.” The old lady looked up at the pharmacist. “Thank you, Dottore. May the Blessed Virgin smile upon you; I shall include you in my prayers,” she croaked as he helped her up. “You are too kind, signora,” said Ugo as he turned towards the door to help her on her way.

As he did, he looked up at the customer who had just walked in and the colour drained from his face. Salvatore Brocanti! Salvatore stood to one side to allow the old lady to pass. Fortunately for him, she was stooped and her eyesight poor; she wouldn’t later remember the marchese being in the pharmacy because she simply didn’t see him. Ugo closed the door after the old woman and, adjusting his spectacles to make sure he wasn’t seeing things, he turned to face Salvatore.

“Marchese. How may I help you?” Very cool, thought Salvatore. Butter wouldn’t melt in his mouth. Perhaps I should make more room for it by removing his teeth. Standing tall, so Ugo would be acutely aware of the fifteen- centimetre difference in their height, and pulling back his shoulders to demonstrate the width of his powerful frame, Salvatore smiled, but his eyes radiated a fox-like cunning. “I am pleased to say I have no need of your medicinal expertise, unlike my wife whom I believe last summer needed to consult you frequently.

No, I am in the finest of health, something I attribute to clean living and pure thoughts.” He tilted his head slightly as if to emphasise the point. Ugo’s eyes were fixed on Salvatore’s, a half-smile frozen on his lips, the sheer terror he felt in the presence of this man in great danger of setting his features twitching uncontrollably.

He had never seriously thought the day would come when he would be standing alone in his pharmacy a mere metre from his lover’s husband, a huge man who could snap him over his knee like a length of wood. Slowly and carefully, he transformed his smile into a questioning frown. “Then how else may I help you, Marchese?” “It is your herbal expertise I seek, Dottore,” said Salvatore, politely using the title applied to Italian professionals, no matter what their expertise.

Alarm bells rang in Ugo’s head as he thought of the herbal preparation he had coached Isabella to use on the Brocanti housekeeper.

This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance of any of the characters or places to real persons living or dead or to real places is purely coincidental. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review. Formatted with Vellum 1kitap1.com/en For Gail, with love 1kitap1.com/en AN IMPERFECT REVENGE 1kitap1.com/en The best laid schemes of mice and men Go oft awry, And leave us nought but grief and pain, For promised joy!

Robert Burns 1kitap1.com/en Part I 1kitap1.com/en Chapter One 2016 “Posso aiutarti?” Can I help you? The accent was strong; the words slurred, hardly comprehensible. A jolt of panic surged through Jane Bawley’s body. Who the hell was this powerfully built man with hideous, twisted features who had appeared in front of her, blocking her way? Where had he come from? A moment ago there had only been dense forest either side of a narrow, ill-defined trail winding its way through thickets of bramble and tangled creeper, the same trail she had taken two hours earlier when she was looking for the abandoned villa.

But now, without any warning, the nightmare she had long banished into the darkest recesses of her memory had once again burst into life. Or so it seemed, and she wasn’t about to take any chances. Her grip on the torch in her right hand tightened, its rigid plastic frame giving her a flicker of reassurance. To think she had almost left it at the abandoned villa for when she returned later.

“What do you want?” gasped Jane in Italian as she took a sharp step backwards. She had almost walked into him. Was that what he had intended? “Aiutarti?” slurred the man, the movement of his mouth restricted by a thick, twisted rope of scar tissue running up from his jawline, across his left eye socket and disappearing into a mass of unkempt black curls. His right hand reached out to grab her shoulder. “Keep away!”

screamed Jane, this time in English. “Don’t touch me!”

This is a short excerpt from the opening of “” by Unknown, quoted for review and introduction purposes. All rights belong to the copyright holders.

Book Information

• Unique ID: 4921918e3b9b9188
• File Extension: .pdf
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• Title: –
• Author: Unknown
• Pages: 325
• Language: English (en)

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• Total Words: 102,091
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