by C. De Melo
Sabina turned her head and saw an attractive woman dressed in a costly gown of plum velvet. It was the same mysterious woman she had seen the first time she met Angelina Bardi. “Who is she?”
Camelia looked at her in surprise. “Lucrezia Donati.”
She recalled to mind Teresa’s gossip. “Lorenzo’s mistress?”
“His favorite, long before he married Clarice.”
Sabina stared at the woman who held first place in Lorenzo de’ Medici’s heart. “The two women tolerate each other?”
“You could say that. Clarice is well aware of Lucrezia’s existence but resents her presence in the palazzo. She considers it an affront.”
“Does Lorenzo normally allow his mistresses to roam freely under his wife’s nose?”
“Certainly not! An exception is made for Lucrezia because her father has always been an ally of the Medici. She and Lorenzo used to play together as children. She knows every nook and cranny of this palazzo.”
“Yet, he has other mistresses.”
“Yes, like Angelina Bardi,” Camelia said with a comical eye roll, confirming Sabina’s suspicion. “You’ve met her?”
“Yes.”
Camelia shook her head dismissively. “Anyway, the reason Clarice and Lucrezia both have good, long-lasting relationships with Lorenzo is because they understand him as a man. Neither woman attempts to rein him in with jealous demands or petty ultimatums, so he returns to them of his own accord. It’s a brilliant strategy on their part, and keeps everyone happy.”
While Sabina pondered over Camelia’s words, Lucrezia caught her eye and gave her a friendly smile.
Chapter 8
Lorenzo and Giuliano de’ Medici held an outdoor tournament before Lent to celebrate the end of winter and the onset of spring. They generously provided the good citizens of Florence with plenty of sport and entertainment. No expense was spared to maintain the Medici popularity and ensure the public’s loyalty. Vendors came from far and wide to set up stalls around the huge piazza of Santa Croce, where the joust would be held.
Sabina, Tommaso, and a few other friends decided to attend the event together. Seats had been thoughtfully reserved for their group.
As the crowd waited for the joust to begin, three men pulled a bear into the center of the piazza. They shouted commands to the great beast, which wore a red vest and a little green cap upon its massive head. The bear was obviously well-trained, for it obeyed the men rather than eating them. The crowd applauded and cheered as the bear did a somersault and other tricks. Coins were thrown in appreciation, and one of the men quickly began to gather the money as the bear waved to the crowd.
“I think I shall buy you that bear,” Tommaso said to his wife.
She turned to him, surprised. “Whatever for?”
“You seem to be as enthralled with it as those children standing there,” he said, indicating a group of wide-eyed children with mouths agape. He gave her hand an affectionate squeeze. “Your innocence is absolutely charming. It’s moments like these that make me love you even more.”
A trumpet sounded and Sabina gasped in delight as Lorenzo and Giuliano rode out on two powerful steeds. The brothers were dressed in matching armor fashioned from copper and gold. Their retinue followed closely behind, arrayed in colorful costumes and carrying jousting lances. Silk banners flaunting noble family crests billowed in the breeze.
Massimo was among them, dressed in black armor.
“Impressive, are they not?” Tommaso asked.
“Very,” she replied, trying hard not to stare at Massimo.
“You should have seen the joust that was held here in 1475.”
“Simonetta Vespucci was declared the most beautiful woman in Florence at that tournament, was she not?”
“Yes,” he replied. “You would have loved it. Everyone of importance was in attendance. Giuliano de’ Medici wore an armor made of pure silver. He looked like an ancient pagan god. The remarkable feast that followed was talked about for a long time afterward.”
The crowd cheered loudly for the Medici brothers as they paraded around the piazza, waving at the people.
“They are like gods,” she mused aloud.
“That’s one way to look at them.” Another group of riders entered the piazza and Tommaso added, “Those are the opponents.”
The crowd began to boo the men who would challenge the Medici. Lorenzo rode to where his wife sat and bowed his head. Clarice held up a lace handkerchief for the crowd to see before tying it around her husband’s arm and blowing him a kiss. The crowd roared in favor of their hero.
Massimo’s horse paused relatively close to where Sabina sat. She was shocked when he looked directly at her. Tommaso clenched his fists and frowned in response to the young man’s insolence. Undeterred, Massimo held Sabina’s gaze for a long moment before urging his horse forward. He waved to his cousin, Clarice, who blew him a kiss.
“Do you know that man?” Tommaso demanded.
“Signora Camelia introduced him to me at the Palazzo Medici.”
His jaw clenched and his eyes narrowed. “Did she, now?”
“I have only spoken to him that one time—and it was very brief,” she assured hastily. “Did you know he is Clarice’s cousin?”
“Of course I do,” he retorted in a clipped tone.
Tommaso said nothing more. Sabina knew her husband was upset. Thankfully, he was soon distracted by the men as they took their places for the joust. Sabina winced each time the wooden lances crashed together. It made an awful sound and sent countless splinters up in the air. Throughout the harrowing affair, six men fell off their horses, four suffered mild injuries, and one had to be dragged away. In the end, it was no surprise when the Medici brothers won the tournament. The crowd cheered for a long time.
It was a miracle that no one perished that day.
Lorenzo and Giuliano had generously arranged for bread, meat, and wine to be doled out to the people when the tournament was over. Since the majority of Florentines gave up eating meat entirely during the period between Lent and Easter, they seized the opportunity to gorge themselves. Florid-faced and sweaty, they feasted in the streets and made merry until sunset.
Sabina and Tommaso joined the private celebration held at the Palazzo Medici. They congratulated the victors and heaped lavish praise upon their sportsmanship. Sabina noticed Massimo chatting to a few of Clarice’s ladies and looked away immediately. She took her seat beside her husband and feasted along with the other guests. Although she took great pains to ignore him, Massimo watched her discreetly throughout the entire evening. When Tommaso finally announced that it was time to go home, Massimo noticed the disappointment on Sabina’s face. In that flickering moment, their eyes met and conveyed what their lips could not.
Later that night, she tossed and turned, unable to sleep.
***
Springtime came to Tuscany with so much verdant beauty and grace, it was as if Flora herself had descended upon the city. Delicate buds sprouted on trees and bushes while wildflowers sprang up in lush, green fields. Even the birds sang in praise of the season. Flowers bloomed in the countryside as well as in private courtyards, including that of the Palazzo Caravelli. Capable servants tended to the flower beds while Sabina nurtured her precious herbs. The rosemary, basil, and lavender gave off the sweetest of perfumes. She would sometimes spend hours in the garden writing in her new blue journal. On occasion, Tommaso would join her in the sunshine and catch up on his reading.
It was during one of these pleasant afternoons that Sabina handed Tommaso her red journal. “I have allowed Lorenzo de’ Medici to read it. I suppose it’s time I let you do the same.”
To her chagrin, he returned the journal. “If that’s the only reason, then I’m not interested.”
“No, it’s not. I’ve wanted to for quite some time, but I was unsure of what you would think,” she countered, placing the journal in his hands.
“Are you being truthful with me?”
�
��Of course I am. I’d be honored if you would read my work and gave me an honest opinion of it.”
“Very well.”
“Thank you for being patient with me.”
During the next few days, Sabina noticed Tommaso frequently reading out of the red journal. Try as she might, she could not discern the expressions on his face while he read her words.
Sabina was picking irises in the garden with Mendi at her side when Tommaso approached her with journal in hand. “I’m done.”
She paused in her task and shaded her eyes against the sun. “Well?”
“I’m impressed.”
“Are you being kind or honest?”
“Honest. I enjoyed the short stories, and the poetry intrigued me.”
“That means so much to me, Tommaso.”
Mendi cawed loudly and he shooed the crow away before setting the red journal on a nearby bench. “I have to go to Milan with Lorenzo.”
“When?”
“Tomorrow. We leave at dawn.”
She dropped the irises and stood. “How long will you be away?”
“Not long, only a few days.”
“You’ll be missed.”
Tommaso kissed Sabina’s cheek and she watched him walk away. Sometimes, she pondered over the events of her life with wonder. A year ago, she would never have imagined being married to such a favorable husband. She was young, rich, and from what Lorenzo and Tommaso told her, a writer with a bit of actual talent. She would have offered a prayer of thanks to God, but since she was not as religious as Cecilia, she was content to thank Fate.
***
Don Antonio, Cecilia, and Paolo arrived in Florence a few days before Easter Sunday. Sabina, who had not seen her family since Epiphany, was quick to notice that her father looked frail.
“Papa is not well,” Sabina said to Cecilia when they were alone.
“He’s been sick again. We almost couldn’t come for Easter.”
“Why was I not informed of this in any of your letters?”
“He didn’t want to worry you.”
“I had every intention of going to Lucca in late February once the weather improved, but Tommaso’s aunt was on her deathbed. We were stuck in Pisa for several weeks—”
“I know.” Cecilia reached out for her sister’s hand. “He knows. We understand. Life is full of unexpected circumstances.”
“Still, I should have been informed of his condition…”
Cecilia sighed. “Papa wanted to keep his promise and spend Easter with you here in Florence. He was afraid you would tell him not to come if you knew he was sick.”
“He’s right. I would have gone to Lucca. How bad is it?”
“The pain he used to complain of occasionally is returning ever more frequently, and he has become quite weak.”
“Perhaps he should remain here in Florence with us. We can hire the best physicians to care for him.”
“I doubt he’ll agree to that.”
Sabina was annoyed. “How do you know?”
“I’ve made that same suggestion to him more than once.”
“Did you summon the physician in Lucca?”
Cecilia’s eyes were sad as she looked away and nodded.
“And?” Sabina prompted.
“He doesn’t have much longer to live.”
Sabina looked outside the window and saw her father sitting in the garden watching Paolo play with his wooden sword. He seemed so small and fragile, and her heart ached at the thought of losing him forever.
Cecilia continued, “He begged me not to tell you any of this, but I didn’t wish to keep you in ignorance.”
Sabina nodded and continued to stare at her father. Cecilia placed her hand on her sister’s shoulder and gave it a reassuring squeeze before walking away.
***
The pope’s sixteen-year-old grandnephew, Raffaello Riario, would be traveling to Pisa to attend university. A recently elected cardinal, this was a required duty for him. The archbishop of Pisa, Francesco Salviati, would accompany the boy. On his way to Pisa, Riario was expected to visit the Medici out of social and political courtesy. A lavish banquet was scheduled at the house of another noble Florentine family for the twenty-fifth of April, which was Holy Saturday, the day before Easter.
“Are you going to attend?” Sabina asked of Tommaso after he had apprised her of the event.
The spring evening was unusually warm and they had dined under the stars in the courtyard. Don Antonio, Cecilia, and Paolo had already retired for the evening.
“The heads of Florence are expected to attend, myself included. As my wife, you will accompany me.” He drank the remainder of his wine, then added, “Actually, I wish we weren’t invited.”
“Why not? The Medici will be there, too, won’t they?”
“Yes, but so will the other rival families, including the Pazzi.”
“I’m sure the host will seat the Medici far from the Pazzi. Besides, isn’t Lorenzo’s sister, Bianca, married to a Pazzi?”
“Yes, but that marriage did little to bring the families together.”
***
The temperature dropped and the evening of Holy Saturday was gray and chilly. Don Antonio and Cecilia were settled comfortably before the fire in Sabina’s sitting room. Between the two of them were a pile of books and a basket of needlepoint. Paolo played at their feet.
Sabina entered the room and took in the scene with a smile. “I’ve instructed the servants to serve the evening meal in here.”
“Thank you,” Don Antonio said.
Cecilia added, “You should get ready or you’ll be late.”
Teresa stood waiting in her mistress’s bedchamber with a basin of fragrant water and a linen cloth. Sabina washed up and changed into a formal gown before allowing her maid to dress her hair.
“Teresa, please keep an eye on my father,” Sabina said while admiring her reflection in the looking glass. “See to his comfort and be sure to offer him a hot draught before he retires.”
“Yes, Signora.”
Tommaso and Sabina made their way to the palazzo where the young cardinal and the archbishop were staying. Private guards surrounded the building granting entry to those with an invitation.
Once inside, Sabina saw a few familiar faces. She was properly introduced to Archbishop Salviati and Cardinal Riario before taking her assigned place beside her husband. It was not long before Lorenzo arrived and, after dutifully greeting his hosts, he took his seat near Tommaso at the cardinal’s right hand.
“Where is Giuliano?” Tommaso asked.
“He injured his leg during this morning’s hunt.”
Sabina craned her neck to ask, “Is he hurt badly?”
“A bit bruised and sore, but he should be fine by tomorrow,” Lorenzo replied. “I’ll let him know of your kind concern.”
Lorenzo, Tommaso, and Sabina ate sparingly of the delicious food, their anxious eyes darting around the room. The Pazzi, on the other hand, ate with gusto and appeared to be having a good time. Clearly, they were on friendly terms with the foreign guests.
Hired minstrels sang and the wine flowed freely until the wee hours. Archbishop Salviati’s florid face was covered in a sheen of perspiration. Someone spoke in his ear and he burst into peals of laughter. A moment later, two robust women sporting indecently low-cut gowns emerged from a side door. They wore gaudy jewelry and their cosmetics had been applied with a heavy hand. The young cardinal’s face paled with apprehension at the sight of the whores.
“He’s still a virgin!” one of the men shouted, smacking the boy on the shoulder.
The archbishop made a crude joke before pulling one of the women onto his lap. The other whore circled the adolescent cardinal like a cat about to pounce upon a mouse.
Sabina put her lips to Tommaso’s ear. “These men make me uneasy.”
“Me too,” he admitted.
Tommaso and Lorenzo thanked their hosts and prepared to depart. Once outside, the Caravelli and Medici armed guards s
urrounded them. Their eyes were wary, hands resting on the hilts of their weapons.
“That was almost painful,” Lorenzo admitted quietly.
Tommaso nodded. “My sentiments exactly.”
“I don’t trust Salviati.”
“Neither do I.”
It was a strange night and Sabina felt relief the moment they arrived home. To her surprise, Tommaso entered her bedchamber a moment later, his eyes reflecting lust. Their lovemaking was surprisingly intense, and they lingered in each other’s arms afterward.
“Tommaso?”
“Yes, my love?”
“Are you disappointed with me for not providing you with a son?”
“Yet,” he amended, tracing the curve of her hip with his fingertip. “I greatly desire a son and often wonder why you haven’t conceived, but I’m not disappointed with you. It’s as God wishes it to be.”
“Do you think I’m barren?”
“No, Sabina. I think you’re a strong, healthy girl who will produce fine children when the time is right.”
“I hope it’s soon.”
“Are you eager to become a mother?”
“Isn’t every woman?”
“Most are, yes, but you’re not ‘every woman.’ You may reply honestly.”
“How can I be eager for something I don’t know? I’m enjoying my life with you, but I’m aware of how much you want a son. As your wife, it’s my duty to provide you with your heart’s desire—an heir.”
“Don’t worry about these things, my love. We shall have our son one day, and all will be well,” he said reassuringly. “Now get some sleep.”
Chapter 9
Easter Sunday
April 26, 1478
Sabina awoke from a strange dream she could not recall, and it made her oddly anxious. She broke her fast and washed up before selecting a gown for Easter Mass.
“You look pale, Signora,” Teresa said. “Are you feeling unwell?”
Sabina rubbed her temples. “I’m a bit tired from last night.”