Silk Merchant's Daughters: Francesca Part 7

Louisa laughed. "I think I'll keep mine from Valiant a while longer," she said. "I'll wait for you in the dayroom." She exited the bedchamber.

Terza took the tray away, and Francesca rose from her bed. She washed her face and hands, scrubbed her teeth with a little boar's-bristle brush with a silver handle, and sat quietly as Terza brushed and braided her hair into a single plait. Then she helped Francesca dress in a white silk s.h.i.+rt with full sleeves, and a pair of dark green woolen pants held up with a wide brown leather belt. The pants came just below her knees. Stockings and dark brown leather boots completed her outfit. Terza handed her a pair of leather gloves that had been dyed green.

"You are still pale," Terza fretted, "but perhaps a nice ride in the early September suns.h.i.+ne will bring the color back into your cheeks."

"Have you written to Florence?" Francesca asked.

"It was sent off this morning with two of our men," Terza said. "I sent a pigeon too at Padre Silvio's suggestion. I am glad we brought six of them along. They will reach your parents before the messengers can do so. Now, do not worry yourself, and go along with Louisa, mistress."

Francesca joined her friend, and together they walked downstairs and out into the castle yard to the stables. Adon was standing, holding her horse, which was saddled and bridled in red leather. She swung herself up into the saddle. Louisa's gentle mare, Bella, was waiting. She ascended the small set of steps that had been placed by the animal's side and settled into the sidesaddle. Then, to Francesca's surprise, they were joined by Rafaello and Valiant. There had been no talk of the men joining them.

She said nothing, but as the four horses clumped across the drawbridge she turned her head slightly and saw Aceline du Barry glaring down from a window in her apartment, and she could have sworn she heard a shriek. No one else seemed to have heard it, however. The air was sweet with the scent of flowers, and warm. As they rode into the forest Francesca was caught up by its beauty, the sunlight playing among the green trees highlighting branches in shades of dark and light.

"Do you know when you will depart?" Francesca finally asked.

Valiant answered her. "Louisa and I will leave tomorrow. We have decided to not be burdened by her baggage train but ride ahead, giving Elda and her staff time to pack up and follow us. I wish to reach Genoa as quickly as we can so I may gain that duke's permission to marry his daughter. Since Louisa has been born on the other side of the blanket there is not likely to be a gala celebrating our union. We can do it either in Genoa, so both the duke and Louisa's mother may observe the formalities, or if they do not care, come back to Terreno Boscoso for the ceremony."

"The d.u.c.h.essa does not acknowledge Mama or me," Louisa explained. "If Mama will come with us, I would bring her back when we return. She and Papa are more friends than lovers nowadays. She has no real influence in Genoa and little family left. My grandfather died last year."

"Then why go to the difficulty of bringing all your possessions back to Genoa?" Francesca wanted to know. "a.s.sume the best outcome with your padre. Perhaps your belongings could be sent to Valiant's home to await your arrival."

"My betrothed makes an excellent suggestion!" Rafaello approved. He turned to Louisa. "Your mama will be most welcome to Terreno Boscoso, cara," he said.

"Oh, thank you!" Louisa responded with tears of happiness in her eyes. "I was so worried about leaving her behind."

"I should not want madre mia living with me," Francesca told them. "Orianna Pietro d'Angelo is a law unto herself. She is beautiful as well, and absolutely convinced that she is always correct. She rarely raises her voice. Just looks at you."

Her companions laughed.

Francesca and Rafaello found themselves riding ahead as the two lovers dropped back to talk privately. For a time they did not speak directly to one another. Then he said, "Did you sleep well, cara mia?" he asked.

"Oddly I did," she answered him. "I had not expected to, but I was suddenly overcome by an enormous wave of fatigue." Then, unable to contain herself, she said, "Do you disapprove that I ride astride, signore?"

"You may ride as you please," he told her. "But when you are with child you will not ride at all, for I would wish no harm to either you or our infant."

"You are the most irritating man!" she responded.

"I am relieved to see that I am able to engender some emotion in you, Francesca," he surprised her by saying. "Is it not time for you to relieve us both of this petulance? It is no insult that you are to be my wife, cara. I shall endeavor to spend the time between now and our wedding day attempting to convince you of your good fortune, but if I cannot it will make no difference. We will still marry on the first day of December."

"My padre must give his approval first," she told him.

"He gave his approval when he agreed to send you to Terreno Boscoso as one of the candidates for my hand," Rafaello said. "Messengers are already speeding towards Florence with the news that you are the chosen one. Your priest will sign the contracts in your father's place. They are being drawn up and will be ready in a few days for his signature. He carries one of your father's seals to make it official."

"Well," Francesca said quietly, "if I did not feel like a trapped animal before, I certainly do now." I shall have to steal the seal from Padre Silvio, she thought. Without the seal the contract will not be legal.

"Yes, I am the hunter, and I have trapped a little wildcat," he answered her, and she heard the humor in his voice.

"You don't have me yet," she taunted him.

"You will come to love me," he said with irritating certainty.

"I will not!" she retorted.

"You liked my kisses," he teased.

"I am a woman. Of course I enjoyed being kissed by a handsome man. It meant nothing, however," she told him scornfully.

That stung, he had to admit, but he didn't believe her. "You are a maid, and my kisses were the first you ever received," he said.

"And if I marry you I shall never have anything to compare them to, for once the priest has p.r.o.nounced us man and wife I must, for my own honor's sake, be faithful."

"You are the most outrageous girl!" he said, amused.

"Do you think if I asked Louisa's permission Valiant would kiss me so I might at least have some comparison?" she wondered aloud.

"He will certainly not kiss you, for our friends.h.i.+p's sake, if I tell him no," Rafaello replied, not quite so amused now. "You must be satisfied with my kisses, I fear."

"I shall certainly not be placated until I have a broader knowledge," she said. She kicked her horse into a smooth canter.

His humor suddenly restored by the thought of a dozen young men lined up to kiss Francesca, he followed after her, laughing.

They returned to the castello in late afternoon hungry and not just a little tired. Aceline du Barry was not in the Great Hall when it was time for the meal. It was a far simpler repast than the wonderful feast of yesterday. Sliced broiled trout on a bed of cress, a roasted capon stuffed with fruit, a salad of lettuces, bread, b.u.t.ter, cheese and a platter of fresh fruits-grapes, pears, apples, melon. Even Louisa's usually delicate appet.i.te was hearty. The wine was dark and fragrant.

They spent time in the hall that evening, dancing simple country dances together. Then the following morning Francesca and Rafaello bid farewell to their friends as they began their journey to Genoa, surrounded by the men-at-arms wearing the badge of the Pietro d'Angelo family. The di Medici men-at-arms had already departed earlier, at dawn.

Francesca and Louisa hugged one another while Rafaello and Valiant shook hands.

"I wish you good luck," his childhood friend told Rafaello.

"Why do I need luck?" Rafaello asked, laughing. "I have the maid."

"Precisely!" Valiant said with a chuckle. "Charming the Duke of Genoa into marrying his daughter will be far easier for me than you charming the beautiful Francesca to the altar without a fuss."

Rafaello's hearty laughter died and his handsome face grew serious. "I believe you may be right," he responded, "but you know that I never give up, Valiant."

"And so I wish you good fortune," Valiant repeated. "We'll return as quickly as we can," he promised as he mounted his stallion.

The last of the duke's guests to depart was Aceline du Barry. Duke t.i.tus himself saw her off, but he had insisted that Rafaello and Francesca also bid her farewell.

"Is it wise for me to be there?" she asked the old man. "Does it not simply rub salt into her open wounds? I do not wish to be unkind."

"She will never accept my son's choice in a bride if it is not made clear to her," Duke t.i.tus responded. "Certainly the three of us bidding her G.o.dspeed will help."

Francesca didn't think it would. If she had had her heart set on Rafaello and he had chosen someone else, seeing them together would just infuriate her. And she knew it would imply to Aceline that something was wrong with her, and Francesca knew that the French girl believed herself far superior to the Genoese duke's b.a.s.t.a.r.d daughter and the daughter of a Florentine silk merchant. "Of course, signore," she dutifully replied.

Rafaello listened to the brief exchange between his sire and his betrothed. He thought that Francesca was correct, but was impressed that she was able to accept his father's decision graciously. He gave the dainty hand in his a small squeeze. Their eyes met briefly, but she said nothing.

Aceline swooped into the courtyard. Her baggage train had already departed. Her female servants but for Oriel, who would also ride, were now in the cart that would transport them across the nearby border between France and Terreno Boscoso, back to the Comte du Barry's chateau. Aceline wore a deep blue velvet riding dress trimmed lavishly in lace. A peregrine falcon was perched upon her leather glove. "I am ready," she announced as if they could not see it. She looked angrily at Francesca and Rafaello.

"I thank you for coming, signorina. Your presence has enlivened my house these past weeks," Duke t.i.tus said politely. "I am sending your n.o.ble father some gifts as my thanks for permitting you to come." He waved his hand languidly towards the gift train.

"You will find a stallion bred from my own horses, two greyhounds, a silk bag of rare tulip bulbs I purchased from a pa.s.sing merchant this summer, as well as several bolts of rare materials, a dozen silver goblets etched in gold, six gold forks, a silver and gold crucifix blessed by the Holy Father himself, and, finally, a ruby necklace and ring I thought might suit you, Aceline."

"He will give it all to his s.l.u.t wife," Aceline said meanly. "She will gain the fruits of my failure, signore." Turning her head she looked at Rafaello and Francesca. "You have made a mistake," she told him. "Did she sleep with you? Is that how she won your favor, by opening her legs for you? Well, what can you expect from a tradesman's brat? I hope any children she gives you are at least your own."

Francesca gasped, shocked at the vicious words. "I have not slept with him!" she denied, blus.h.i.+ng furiously. "I am a virgin! How dare you say such a thing? And I will be faithful to any husband I wed. To say otherwise only shows you do not know my character. Nonetheless I will wish you G.o.dspeed and a safe journey. Addio! I hope never to see your face again."

"Then we have found something we can agree on," Aceline responded, "for I never hope to see yours!" Without another word to anyone she turned angrily and mounted her horse and, las.h.i.+ng the beast with her crop, cantered from the courtyard.

Startled, Oriel and the pa.s.senger cart followed at a much slower pace.

"Thank G.o.d you did not choose that virago," Duke t.i.tus said.

"For all her n.o.ble blood," Francesca said, "she had no manners at all. I can understand her disappointment, but there was no excuse for her vile words. I do not envy the man who wants her."

"If her sire is wise he will marry her off to the man quickly," Duke t.i.tus noted. Then he smiled at Francesca. "I have the daughter I want," he told her.

She smiled warmly at him. If she could only bring herself to accept this fate that was thrust upon her, he would be a good father-in-law and, Francesca expected, a very good ally.

"I suspect there will be a number of beatings in Aceline's future. Her temper will not be tolerated by any husband," Rafaello said.

"Would you beat her if she was your wife?" Francesca asked him.

"I'd strangle her," he answered, to her surprise.

The next few weeks seemed to pa.s.s very quickly, and the first of October came. The trees in the forest were beginning to change color, splas.h.i.+ng their bright hues against the green pines. Duke t.i.tus, along with his majordomo, Piero, began to plan the wedding feast to which all the citizens of Terreno Boscoso would be invited. A calligrapher was brought to the castello to write the hundred or so personal invitations for the duchy's officials and important citizens. Larger invitations would be posted in public places for the citizens of Terreno Boscoso.

The wedding gown arrived from Florence on the tenth of the month, along with the Pietro d'Angelo family's personal seamstress, who would remain until after the wedding. If the snows were not heavy by then she would return to Florence and recount everything that had happened during her stay. Greeting Signora Sophia, Francesca knew that was the real purpose of her visit. Terza was more than capable of making any alterations on the gown. But Terza would not be returning to Florence.

"Your madre is unhappy she cannot attend your wedding," the seamstress told Francesca, then smiled. "But I shall report every detail to her and with enough repeating she will believe she was here." Signora Sophia laughed. "I have a memory that forgets nothing. Nothing!"

Duke t.i.tus insisted on seeing Francesca in her gown as it was fitted exactly to her form. "You are outrageously beautiful, my daughter," he said. "After you have delivered your first child, I shall call for one of your famous Florentine painters to come and paint you and my grandson in the manner of the blessed Virgin and her son, our lord Jesu," he told her. "It shall hang in the family gallery."

I can't do this, Francesca thought. I cannot! But what could she do? The invitations were being delivered, the feast was set, the wedding gown was here, and Padre Silvio had signed the betrothal agreements. Now the dear old duke was seeing her as the Holy Mother with her child. Panic was filling her, and, worse, Rafaello was paying her proper court. Last night he had drawn her down onto his lap when they found themselves alone in the hall.

She stiffened, but when his lips found hers her body relaxed, unbidden. Francesca found herself kissing him back. After what seemed an eternity, she drew away. His mouth was intoxicating. He pulled her back, shocking her by finding her tongue with his. She made a tiny squeak of protest, but the foraging tongue refused to cease its caresses. Unable to help herself she followed his tutoring softly, stroking his tongue with hers.

A single hand now slipped into her bodice and through the opening in her chemise to cup her breast.

"No!" Francesca gasped.

"Yes," he said, his thumb beginning to rub over the nipple teasingly. "We will shortly be husband and wife, cara mia. These are innocent intimacies we now share, and you should be aware of them before we come together in the marriage bed. I suspected, and your actions confirm, that you are truly innocent." He gently squeezed the small breast in his palm. "You are so tender and fresh, Francesca." His lips touched her again as his big hand continued to fondle her.

Her head was spinning. She could hear the beat of her heart in her ears, but his hand and his lips were gentle, giving no indication of rough l.u.s.t. They were like Rafaello.

Calm, measured in his actions. He wasn't kissing or fondling her out of any need on his part. He was doing it to prepare her for the intimacies they must share after their wedding in order to produce heirs for his duchy. His actions were both dutiful and thoughtful of her own sensibilities. But no matter his reasons, it felt wonderful! But how cold he was to be able to kiss and touch her without any feeling for her at all. "Let me go," she told him.

He immediately ceased his actions. "Have I frightened you, shocked you, cara?" he asked her as he withdrew his hand from her bodice.

"I have never been touched in so intimate a manner," she answered him. "I must become used to it, Rafaello."

"Did you like it?" he queried her.

She paused in her thought a moment and then said, "Yes." Nothing more.

"Then we shall conclude tonight's lesson," he responded. "But I shall continue to make love to you, Francesca, at every opportunity I get." And he did. Each night he would take her aside when they were alone.

Francesca found herself becoming more eager for his kisses and caresses. She was filled with a fevered longing as their kisses became more pa.s.sionate, as she allowed him greater access to her b.r.e.a.s.t.s. But what was she longing for? She had yet to figure it out. The night he first took a nipple in his mouth, tonguing it, suckling it, she almost fainted with the exquisite sensation. But never did he admit to feeling any emotions for her.

I cannot marry a man who feels nothing for me. Especially now that he has shown me how delicious making love is. Would it not be even better if he loved me, and I him? Francesca asked herself over and over again. The truth was, she couldn't. But all was being arranged at a rapid clip. There was no other choice. She had to flee. She must depart Terreno Boscoso and find her way home to Florence. And she had to go alone, for Terza would certainly attempt to stop her flight.

Her parents would be furious, especially her mother, but Francesca couldn't be controlled like Orianna, who chafed at her duty but nonetheless did it. And her father, she knew, had loved Orianna almost immediately, even though it took his wife many years to develop her small fondness for him.

Francesca thought of her older sister, Bianca, once hailed as the most beautiful girl in Florence. She thought of how after Bianca's brutal and perverted first husband had died, her sister had defied their world to go with the man she loved. No matter the obstacles they had put in Bianca's path she had prevailed. She had given up Florence, her family, her church to be with the man she adored.

The church had threatened her with excommunication. Francesca never knew if they had carried out that threat. What she did know was that for Bianca, heaven was in the arms of Prince Amir ibn Jem, grandson of the Turkish sultan. She preferred it to anything anyone else might offer.

Now Francesca wondered, could she be as bold and as brave as her elder sister? Could she flee this lovely prison and the handsome man who was to be her husband? Yes! She could. She had to go, because she could not remain. Accepting this marriage would have been so much easier if he had admitted any emotions towards her. But he had not, and so she must go now. Now, before it became any more difficult, she sent word to the hall that night that she was feeling unwell and would have her meal in her own apartments.

"What is the matter?" Terza asked. She did not think Francesca looked ill, and her appet.i.te that evening had hardly been that of a sick girl.

"I am just feeling out of sorts," Francesca admitted. "'Tis nothing. A quiet meal and a good night's sleep will serve me well."

Terza agreed, no longer concerned.

Later as she lay in her bed Francesca considered what she must do next. The month of October was almost over. In just five and a half weeks the wedding was scheduled to take place. She had to go quickly, but how would she get back to Florence? If she took the open road they would easily catch up with her. But if she hid in the forest for a few days and they didn't find her on the road, they would certainly give her up for lost. Yes! That's what she would do. She would hide in the forest.

The next morning she dressed in her riding clothes, and after her breakfast she sent the unsuspecting Roza to the kitchens for her. "Fetch me some bread, cheese, apples, and a few hard-cooked eggs, if you can find them. I am going to ride out by myself today. Tell no one. I'll give you a silver piece in exchange for your silence when I return."

"Should Terza know?" Roza asked.

Francesca giggled conspiratorially. "No, no," she said. "She would fuss at me like the old woman she is becoming, and send me with two men-at-arms and a groom. Maybe that one you like," Francesca teased Roza, who blushed but giggled too. "I just want some time by myself before I must take up my duties as a wife and your d.u.c.h.essa."

"I understand, mistress," Roza said.

"Meet me at the stables," Francesca told the little maid. "Then you'll get to see your friend and visit for a while."

With another giggle Roza ran off.

Francesca picked up her gloves and her cape, for while the day was sunny and bright, the air was growing chillier as each morning dawned. She would have Ib saddle the bay. His color would blend in better within the forest than her showy white with its black mane and tail. She saw no one as she exited the castello. This was the morning that Duke t.i.tus and Rafaello sat in the old man's library and did the business of the duchy. They would not come out until late afternoon, and she would not be missed until the meal hour. She would be several hours away by then.

Reaching the stables she called softly to Ib. He came immediately, and with a nod quickly saddled the bay. Then he brought her a small skin of fresh water. "The sun is hot," was all he said. He noted with curiosity Roza stuffing what appeared to be food into the saddlebags as he returned with the water. Francesca put a finger to her lips, and pressed a silver coin into his dark palm. Ib was suddenly uncomfortable, but this woman was his mistress. It was not his duty to question her, yet he sensed her actions would not be approved of by the duke or his son.

Francesca saw the look on his face. "Say nothing until you are asked," was all she told him. "Since it is not your place to question me, you will not be blamed."

Then Francesca mounted the bay and rode slowly from the stables, but not before Ib asked, "I go with you?"

"No," Francesca replied. Then, seeing Roza still standing there, she said, "Go and find your friend. You have my permission."