Silk Merchant's Daughters: Francesca Part 3

"I spent a bit over a year in Venice at my grandfather, Prince Venier's, palazzo," Francesca replied, curtsying back. "Florence is a bit dull for me, but Venice is all color!"

She had decided she already liked Louisa, with her lovely amber eyes and her black hair.

There was genuine warmth about the girl. Francesca was quite certain that they would be friends by the time they parted. Aceline du Barry was another matter altogether.

Duke t.i.tus smiled. "I am pleased to see that you are all so amenable to one another," he told them. "We will have a fine summer together and hopefully a very happy ending for one of you. But the two my son declines will not go unrewarded for their efforts, I promise you."

Chapter 3.

Francesca slept well her first night in Terreno Boscoso. The bed was more than comfortable. Terza had left the leaded, paned windows open just a crack before finding her rest in her own small chamber. She was extremely pleased to have it. The dawn came and Terza finally rose, washed, and dressed herself. Then she went to rouse her mistress, but seeing Francesca still sleeping soundly, she simply opened the windows wide to allow in the fresh summer air and left her. It had been a long journey from Florence, and while her mistress had held up well, a little extra sleep wouldn't harm her.

Francesca agreed when she finally awoke in midmorning. She broke her fast with a dish of warm grain mixed with fresh fruit, bread, b.u.t.ter, and jam. Her cup was filled with a mixture of water and light wine. When she had satisfied her appet.i.te she rose and was dressed. Then she descended to the hall to find Aceline and Louisa there.

"Ohh," the French girl cooed, "you have missed our morning ride with Rafaello. He is like a magnificent centaur ahorse. Now you probably won't see him until tonight. What a great pity."

"If Duke t.i.tus's son wishes to further our acquaintance, I'm sure he will make time for me," Francesca said. "And if he is too busy, then so be it." She smiled.

Aceline was somewhat taken aback. "Do you not want to marry Rafaello?"

"Only if he wants to marry me, and I wish the same," Francesca said casually.

Aceline was briefly speechless, but Louisa laughed. "Frankly," she said, "he frightens me. He is so proud and fierce. But my father believes this is a wonderful opportunity for me. He will be very disappointed when I am sent home, I fear."

"Of course it is a wonderful opportunity for you," Aceline said sharply. "For a b.a.s.t.a.r.d daughter to make a respectable marriage of such magnificence is unheard of, and you might even have a chance with him if you tried."

"I do try, but I prefer his friend Valiant's company," Louisa responded.

"Who is he?" Francesca said.

"He's always by Rafaello's side," Louisa explained. "Tall with light brown hair and those northern blue eyes," she sighed. He speaks so gently to me and is kind. That is the kind of man I would have. Not one who growls and scowls all the time."

"You are a simpleton," Aceline told her. "If Rafaello chooses me, he will not look so dark all the time, for I shall keep him happy and smiling."

"Because you are such a charming maiden, I have not a doubt," Francesca said wickedly. "Who wants to show me the gardens? You have both been here over a week, and I am newly arrived and do not know my way."

"I have more important things to do than waste my time in a garden," Aceline said sourly. "I am already sewing a silk s.h.i.+rt for Rafaello." She turned, and hurried off.

"I love gardens," Louisa spoke up. "Walk with me. Duke t.i.tus has a beautiful garden, Francesca, and the day is fair."

Together the two young women found their way outside. The area was filled with both flowers and a small display of fruit trees. Gravel paths led the way through the planted area. Francesca was particularly intrigued to find that half of the fruit trees were growing heavy with peaches, and the other with half-formed apples that would be ready to pick in the early autumn.

"It must be beautiful in the springtime," she remarked to Louisa.

"My father's palazzo has peach trees in its gardens. Their blossoms are lovely and sometimes even faintly fragrant," Louisa replied.

"Aceline made a great to-do about your circ.u.mstances," Francesca said. "I think she is very rude and unkind."

"She only seeks to make herself seem more important and therefore more worthy of Rafaello Cesare than either you or I are," Louisa said shrewdly. "When you arrived last night with your great baggage train, your servants, horses, and dogs, she was very taken aback, for she considers you of little importance, being a merchant's daughter. Yet the numerous men-at-arms accompanying your train were quite impressive. She isn't certain now what to make of you."

Francesca smiled wickedly. "I am sorry to have confused her."

Louisa laughed. "No, you aren't," she replied. "My mother's sire is a s.h.i.+p's captain. He is very direct in his dealings, which is confusing to many who look for plots in the simplest matters. I know all the gossip that has emanated from Florence and Venice about you, for mariners hear everything. When my father told me you were one of the girls chosen to compete for Rafaello's hand I was delighted, for I longed to meet you."

Francesca was very surprised. "Why?" she asked.

"You are brave and daring," Louisa said admiringly. "If I am chosen to be the bride I will be obedient, but the truth is I don't want to be the bride. But if you are chosen you will rebel, and perhaps I will gain some of your courage. I am far too meek and mild, as you have probably already seen."

"I am neither brave nor daring," Francesca said. "I am just stubborn and say no. Your perfect obedience is what a man looks for in a wife. Even I know that."

"I hope not," came the reply. "Of course I would wed, but to a less-fierce man."

"Well, we both know that Aceline wants the dark and brooding Rafaello," Francesca said. "She has made no secret of it, has she?" And she laughed.

"She would make his life a misery," Louisa answered. "All she wants is to be a d.u.c.h.essa and squander his wealth on herself."

Francesca tucked her arm into Louisa's. "Let us go pick a peach and eat it," she suggested. "It is a shame to allow them to go to waste."

They walked a short distance amid the trees, and then each picked a peach, which they began eating. The juice from the ripe fruits drizzled down their chins as they sat beneath the trees, and they giggled like children. Then suddenly looming up before them was Rafaello Cesare and his friend, Valiant.

"What is this?" Valiant said in a mock-serious tone. "Have we caught us a pair of pretty poachers in your father's orchards?" he teased them.

"Alas, we are discovered!" Francesca cried. "What will you do with us, signores?" She feigned fright.

Louisa giggled.

Rafaello Cesare looked down at Francesca. "Stop eating," he said. "I would walk with you so we may learn more about each other."

"But the peach is delicious, signore," Francesca protested.

Before he might complain, his companion, Valiant, bent and, capturing Louisa's little hand, pulled her to her feet. "This lady has finished her fruit," he said. "I shall take her for a walk. You remain here, Rafaello. It would be a great shame to waste that peach." Then he turned to the startled Louisa. "Your fingers are very sticky," he told her as he led her off.

Rafaello sat in the gra.s.s beneath the tree. "You are very stubborn," he said to Francesca as he settled himself.

"Yes," she agreed, "I am." Madre di Dios, he was hardly the child she had believed him to be. Exhausted from her journey, she had barely looked at him last night. He was a man, not a boy. And he was handsome in a very rugged and masculine way.

"Did no one ever tell you that you cannot always have your own way?"

"They did," she admitted. His eyes were a deep foresty green.

"But you paid them no mind," he said.

"Sometimes I do if the reasoning is sound," Francesca told him.

He laughed at that and his face was transformed from stern and fierce into something else entirely. His eyes crinkled with his amus.e.m.e.nt. "You are a woman of logic, then," he said to her.

"I am not an obedient little simpleton who will agree with your every thought," she told him.

"No, you are not," he replied, intrigued. "The other two, however, are.

"Louisa is sweet and kind," Rafaello said. "I see that. I'm certain she would make me an admirable wife if she weren't scared to death of me. She is pretty. Obedient. And she seems to possess all the proper virtues a good wife should have," Rafaello noted. "So does Aceline, though I find her tongue far too sharp-although I suspect she would be a tigress in the marital bed. You, however, are a puzzle."

"Not really," Francesca responded. "I simply do not like being called forth from Florence to partake in this horse fair where the three nubile mares are paraded before the young stallion so he may choose which one he will mount to breed with."

He laughed at her a.n.a.logy, but said, "Is that not a bit harsh?"

"How old are you?" Francesca asked him.

She is maddening, Rafaello thought. "Twenty-nine. How old are you?"

"Fifteen," she replied. "I am told I am almost too old now to make a young man a wife, but you are not so young. Why have you not married before?" She had finished her peach and tossed away the pit. Then she began to lick and suck on her fingers to remove the stickiness from them.

His breath caught in his throat. Her actions were incredibly sensuous and he actually felt a tightening in his groin. Was she even aware of what she was doing and the effect it was having on him? No, he didn't believe she was. She was, he could see, spoiled and outspoken, but she was not a flirt. He swallowed and made an attempt at another topic with her. "Tell me about your life in Florence. Terreno Boscoso is a very different place if you have lived in a large city most of your life."

"We live in our father's palazzo. I have two older brothers and a younger one. I have three sisters, an older one and two little ones. Our days are regulated by the church and our lessons. In the summers we go to our villa in the Tuscan hills. There is nothing unusual about my life. It is the same as any girl's."

"So you have never left Florence before, and yet were brave enough to make this journey," he said.

"Oh no, signore, this is not my first voyage from Florence. I lived in Venice with my grandfather for a year," Francesca admitted.

"Here you are! Here you are!" Aceline du Barry came to where they were seated and joined them. "When I saw your companion, Valiant, walking with Louisa, I thought you might be here in the gardens." Then she paused and clapped her hand over her mouth. "You did know Louisa was with Valiant. Didn't you?" she finally said.

The b.i.t.c.h! Francesca thought. She would put Louisa in a bad light to further her own cause. Well, she could play this game better than the French girl. Florentines were noted for their deviousness. "Louisa is with Valiant?" she exclaimed, her eyes wide. "Oh, dear! Oh, dear! Did you know that, Rafaello?"

"Well, given her background, the child of a courtesan, what can one expect of her behavior?" Aceline said quickly before he might reply.

Rafaello almost laughed at Francesca's response to Aceline du Barry. Well, the wench deserved to be taken down a peg or two, especially as Valiant and Louisa were now approaching them. He stood and, reaching out, pulled Francesca up from the gra.s.s. Then he hailed his best friend and the charming Louisa.

Aceline now realized the precariousness of her situation. "You knew!" she hissed at Francesca.

"We knew," Francesca replied, implying there was something deeper between her and Rafaello Cesare.

The French girl's face flushed with her anger. "You are nothing more than a vile Florentine tradesman's daughter," she snarled.

"And you a lying and conniving wench who believes she can win a bridegroom by vilifying another's reputation. I have been here but a day, yet I can tell you that Louisa di Genoa is a sweet, kind girl. How dare you attempt to tarnish her good name? Do you think Rafaello is a fool? Are you not even aware of how you make yourself look?" Francesca demanded. She kept her voice low, so as to not involve the others. Now she turned away from Aceline du Barry and, putting her hand through Rafaello's arm, said, "Will you walk us back to the castello? The sun is becoming quite hot."

"Now I have learned something else about you," Rafaello said as they strolled.

"That I have a temper?" Francesca said, realizing he had heard her outburst.

"Yes, but I learned another thing as well. You are loyal to friends. It is a trait I find admirable in a man or a woman," Rafaello responded.

"Louisa is a sweet person. The circ.u.mstances of her birth are not her fault. I will tell you that they certainly neither offend nor distress my sensibilities," Francesca said.

He smiled again. She wondered if it hurt his face to smile, since his handsome visage usually wore a look of such seriousness. They returned to the Great Hall. It was already the noon hour, and the servants were preparing to set out the main meal of the day.

"I plan to ride again this afternoon," Rafaello said to her. "Come with me."

"Nay," Francesca told him. "I am yet weary from my travels and will nap after we have eaten."

He looked genuinely disappointed. "Then tomorrow morning," he said.

"Perhaps if I do not decide to stay abed as I did this morning, although I was not aware that you rode in the mornings," Francesca answered him.

"Piero was told to inform you," he responded. "I will speak to him. It is unlike him to forget an order," Rafaello said.

"Do not scold him, signore," she replied. "I would not have come this morning under any circ.u.mstances, and I know now."

She had a good heart. Something else learned in this brief time. "I will leave you to rejoin your two companions," Rafaello said as they stopped where Louisa and Aceline were now waiting. She curtsied and turned away. Rafaello walked over to where his friend, Valiant, stood with a cup of wine in his hand. Valiant looked happy and at the same time he looked unhappy. "What is wrong?" Rafaello said.

"I know they were sent for so you might pick among them for a wife. Will you pick her?" the young man wanted to know.

Rafaello knew exactly to whom his best friend referred. He had never seen him that way over any female. "No, I will not pick Louisa, although I really should. She is beautiful, sweet-natured, soft-spoken, and obedient. Only two things prevent me from ending this summer fiasco my father has arranged. The first is that she is frightened of me, and I really could not wed a wife who appears to believe I will gobble her up. The second is that my best friend fell in love with her at first sight, and I believe she returns his sentiments. Do not declare yourself yet, though, my friend. I must make my own choice first in order to please my father. When I do I will ask him to approach the Duke of Genoa about arranging a match between you and your lady love. You are of n.o.ble birth and have lands of your own, Valiant. If I wed, then so must you. I shall not venture into this new world without my best friend by my side as you have always been."

Both relief and joy lit Valiant Corda.s.sci's handsome face. "Thank you," he said. Then he added, "But which of the other two? You hardly know the Florentine. She arrived only yesterday."

"And yet in that short time we were alone beneath the peach trees I learned much. There is more I would know, and the French girl, despite her difficult nature, has n.o.ble blood while the Florentine is just a wealthy merchant's daughter. Which would be better suited to be my d.u.c.h.essa is what I must decide," Rafaello said.

"Let your heart decide, my friend. You will be happier that way," Valiant wisely counseled Rafaello.

With the arrival of the final aspirant for the hand of his son, Duke t.i.tus signaled a summer of festivities so Rafaello might become better acquainted with his potential bride. He had no idea that his son had already yielded the sweet Louisa to Valiant. It would seem that the French girl had the edge, for she was always in his company, while the beautiful Florentine, Francesca Pietro d'Angelo, seemed to always be by the duke's side.

"Do you not like Rafaello?" he asked her one afternoon as they picnicked in the orchards of his gardens. His warm brown eyes searched her face. He already knew that this was the girl he would choose for his son.

"I do like him," Francesca said. "But he must like me for who and what I am. Not what he believes he could make me."

"And yet you seem to be always in my company. Not that I mind it," Duke t.i.tus said with a smile. "It has been quite a while since I had so beautiful a young companion by my side. Not since my beloved Antonia died. She was many years my junior, you know, and gave me my only child."

"You miss her," Francesca replied putting a comforting hand on his. "I am sorry to have made you sad, signore."

"No, child, you did not. I can never, it seems, think of Antonia without growing tearful, despite the many years she has been gone," the old duke admitted.

They had been watching a small jousting tournament, and now in an effort to distract him from his sad thoughts Francesca said, "Oh, look! Rafaello and Valiant are going to go up against each other."

"Valiant will win," Duke t.i.tus said with a chuckle. "My own son is little interested in jousting. He says there is no practical use for it. Now and again he will overcome Valiant but 'tis only by chance."

Francesca felt Louisa grab her hand and squeeze it hard as the two hors.e.m.e.n sat at either end of the jousting course, awaiting a signal from the tourney's master at arms.

"Tell me what happens," she whispered. "I can't look."

Francesca repressed a chuckle, knowing Louisa's fear was for Valiant, not Rafaello.

"Ohh," squealed Aceline. "Are they not magnificent? But of course my Rafaello will win. He is so brave and so very gallant."