Sabina

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Sabina Page 20

by C. De Melo


  I wonder where you are now, Massimo…

  “Have you ever been to England, Signora Sabina?”

  She shook her head. “Tell me about it.”

  James proceeded to talk about his country with obvious pride. Sabina soon found herself engrossed in an intelligent and lively conversation. It seemed as though only a few moments had passed before Lorenzo and the earl found them outside.

  “It’s late and we should go,” Thaddeus said to his son.

  Reluctantly, James stood and Sabina followed suit. “It has truly been a pleasure speaking with you, Signora,” he said before kissing her hand. “Hopefully, our paths will cross again soon.”

  Sabina smiled. “I’d like that.”

  Thaddeus inclined his head. “Thank you for entertaining my son. I bid you a good evening, Signora Sabina.”

  Lorenzo motioned to a page and said to the men, “My servant will show you out. Good evening, gentlemen.”

  James offered Sabina a wistful look before walking away.

  “You’re full of surprises,” Lorenzo commented, eyeing her closely.

  “James was left for dead at the hospital, so I arranged for a physician to examine the wound, then I sat with him until his fever broke.”

  “Several months later, you meet him in my home.”

  “An uncanny coincidence.”

  “The English, it seems, have developed a taste for fine things. They already foster a wonderful relationship with Portugal and wish to expand their trade territory. The earl is eager to engage with Florence and other cities within the Tuscan region. It’s a wise move on his part, not only for business but also for political alliances.”

  “How long will they stay in Italy?”

  He looked at her knowingly and, rather than answer her question, he said, “You and Sir James appear to have much in common.”

  Sabina’s cheeks reddened. “He’s polite and well-educated.” She paused. “Is he married?”

  Lorenzo chuckled. “No.”

  The Earl of Rochester made it clear to Lorenzo de’ Medici that he was interested in learning more about “the lovely” Signora Sabina Rossi. Apparently, his son was a finicky man. Having recently lost his young wife after delivering their first, stillborn child, James had shown no interest in marrying again.

  The death of Thaddeus’s wife the previous year had only heightened the earl’s own sense of mortality and intensified his need for a grandson. He was losing patience with James and wanted his son to marry again in order to procure an heir.

  “She is of noble blood, is she not?” Thaddeus asked of Lorenzo.

  “The Rossi name dates back to the forefathers of Tuscany. She is of the oldest and most noble blood,” Lorenzo replied, closing the door of his study to assure privacy.

  “What of her reputation?”

  Lorenzo thought of Sabina’s recent affair with Massimo. There had been no scandal and hardly anyone knew of it. “I can personally attest to Signora Sabina’s reputation; it’s immaculate. There is no blush upon her name. She was married briefly to one of my oldest and dearest friends, Tommaso Caravelli. An honorable man who lost his life only eight months into their marriage.”

  The earl rubbed his chin pensively. “No children?”

  “No.”

  “Please excuse the indelicacy of this question, but…I assume her financial state is one that would enable her to marry someone of my son’s rank?”

  Ah, money. It was always a tool used at the bargaining table of marriages. “She is richer than many princesses.”

  The earl nodded, pleased. “My son has taken quite a fancy to her. Since I cannot convince him to take an English bride, I have no objection to a foreign one—given, of course, that she meets the proper criteria.”

  “I think she would be a fine choice for your son,” Lorenzo assured.

  “She would have to learn English,” Thaddeus said thoughtfully.

  Lorenzo, wanting to secure a good alliance with the Earl of Rochester and see Sabina happily matched, invited her and James to his palazzo. It was an intimate gathering of friends and the perfect opportunity for two people to get to know each other better.

  James showed great interest in everything Sabina said throughout dinner. At one point, Sabina saw Lorenzo looking at her in approval and she wondered what the meaning behind the look meant.

  During the earl’s stay in Florence, Lorenzo made it a point to invite Sabina to several dinners and performances and to make sure that she and James were seated together. On one such evening, after James had been called away by his father in order to meet some important Florentines, Sabina sought out Lorenzo.

  “Are you trying to arrange a marriage between James and me?” she asked him bluntly when they were alone.

  “There is no mincing words with you, is there, Sabina?”

  “Not when my future is at stake,” she replied levelly.

  “The earl has made inquiries of you. It seems as though his son has taken a fancy to you and will most likely be proposing marriage soon.”

  “So you would have me marry a foreigner and move to England?” she asked, disappointed that he would not prefer to keep her close.

  “I would not try to force you into anything. If you did accept his proposal, however, it would be most beneficial to me.”

  “I’m afraid, Lorenzo.”

  “I would not steer you toward anyone who would mistreat you. The earl is thrilled at the prospect of strengthening our relationship by his son taking a Tuscan bride.”

  “Who happens to be wealthy.”

  Sabina is no fool. “Your wealth does make you more attractive, yes.”

  “This match would be good for you and for Florence?”

  “It would.” Seeing the concern in her eyes, he said, “Do not be afraid of love. What happened between you and Massimo was unfortunate, but don’t let that taint this opportunity. It’s not good for you to remain alone. It’s time you remarried, and what better way to forget Massimo than a new life in a new country? You should have children—many children, in fact. I cannot tell you the joy my sons bring me.”

  “You’re right, Lorenzo.” She hesitated. “I have a question to ask, but you must promise to answer it honestly and not be angry with me.”

  “Ask it.”

  “What has become of Massimo?”

  A shadow settled across his features. “He’s in Rome.” When she continued to look at him expectantly for more news, he added, “Clarice was furious with me for taking your side in the matter.”

  “I’m sorry if I caused distress between you and your wife. I’m honored that you think highly enough of me to defend me.”

  “You should know by now that I care for you.”

  “Massimo has never attempted to contact you on my behalf?”

  Again, his face grew dark. “No.”

  It’s as though what transpired between us never existed. None of it mattered to him. I don’t matter to him. “I will marry James of Rochester if it pleases you, Lorenzo.”

  He gently traced the curve of her cheek with his fingertip. “Dear Sabina, marry him only if it pleases you.”

  “What other option do I have? It’s not as if Massimo—” She stopped once she saw the look on his face. “Forgive me.”

  “James is waiting to speak with you in my study.”

  Sabina found James standing by an open window with the sunlight washing over him like iridescent water, making his fair hair and amber eyes glimmer ethereally. As she walked toward him, his mouth curved into a smile, revealing his teeth. His canines were slightly sharp. It was intriguing how his pale features, which were almost pretty, mingled with the savageness of his eyes and slightly animalistic teeth.

  He took her hands into his own. “My father has informed me that he wishes to depart for England within a fortnight.”

  “I see.”

  He squeezed her hands slightly. “Come with us.” She looked up at him and said nothing. “Marry me, Sabina.”

  “
You hardly know me and I don’t speak English. I’m not familiar with your country or its customs.”

  “None of that matters.”

  “What about your family in England? Will they not object to you bringing home a foreign bride? What of your mother?”

  “She died several years ago.”

  “I’m sorry to hear it.” She paused. “I have only one more question to ask before I give you an answer…Do you love me?”

  “Does that matter to you?”

  “Yes.”

  His eyes swept over her and he took a step closer. “I do.”

  Everything was happening so fast! Countless thoughts raced through Sabina’s head: marriage, England, a new life, Lorenzo, Florence, Tommaso, Paolo, her father, Massimo…

  Oh, Massimo...

  “I will marry you, James.”

  He smiled. “Tell me that you care for me as I care for you.”

  She could not bring herself to say the words. Instead, she nodded. He bent his head and kissed her lips for the first time.

  ***

  Sabina wrote to Cecilia about her upcoming marriage and voyage to England. She invited Cecilia to stay with her in Florence until her departure.

  Cecilia arrived a few days later, surprised, sad, and happy all at the same time. “God works in mysterious ways,” she said. “I would never have imagined that one of your patients from the hospital would find you in Florence and take you away.”

  “I know this is unexpected, but it feels like the right thing to do.”

  “I wish you the very best, Sabina. I hope he makes you happy.”

  “Me, too. I’ve invited James to sup with us so you can meet him.”

  Camelia and Signore Adolfo were also invited, and everyone seemed impressed with James. As sad as they were to see Sabina go, they rejoiced that she was marrying a man worthy enough to be her husband.

  The day before Sabina’s departure, Lorenzo called on her to say goodbye. “The earl could not be happier that his son has finally chosen a suitable bride,” he said. “Fate is an unpredictable mistress.”

  “I only hope that I can live up to his expectations.”

  “I know you will. I’ve brought something for you—a parting gift.”

  “Lorenzo, how thoughtful.”

  He pulled out a book and she noticed the title on the cover: A Foreign Perception. “Have you read it?”

  She smiled nervously, accepting the book from his hand. “No.”

  “There’s something very familiar about the writing style of this mysterious author.”

  “Familiar?” she asked innocently, pretending to examine the pages.

  Lorenzo narrowed his eyes at her. “Is there something you wish to tell me before you leave for England?”

  “No…”

  “Sabina,” he said, his tone one of mild reproof.

  “I wrote it,” she finally confessed.

  “Why the charade? People are going around town claiming they’ve met the elusive author. Does it humor you to make fools of others?”

  “That wasn’t my intention, I swear.”

  “Many would be angry at being tricked—and by a woman, no less.”

  “I wanted to have my words read, nothing more.”

  He crossed his arms and regarded her the way a father would an errant child. “I should make you confess the truth and offer a public apology.”

  “Please don’t,” she pleaded. “Let this remain a secret between us.”

  Lorenzo took his time pondering the matter while Sabina anxiously bit her lower lip. “I will let it pass—this time. No more pranks.”

  “I promise.”

  He let his stern guard down and finally chuckled. “Life in Florence will be dull without you,” he admitted. “I shall miss you, and I’m grateful for the good memories we’ve shared in the past.”

  “You sound like my sister, Cecilia. She believes we’ll never see each other again.”

  “England is far away and you’ll be busy with your new life.”

  “As long as there are ships and horses, there’s no reason why I cannot visit my loved ones.”

  He offered no reply. When a woman took a foreign husband, she often left her country never to return. “I regret that I cannot dally. I have a meeting with members of the Signoria today.”

  “You’ve only just arrived,” she said, wanting to prolong the visit.

  Lorenzo suddenly gathered her in his arms, and whispered in her ear, “Remember, I’ll always be here if you need me.”

  Sabina’s tears fell quietly as she embraced him. He pulled away to look down at her wet face and smiled softly. In an act of boldness, she pressed her lips against his in what was meant to be a swift kiss. Lorenzo, however, pulled her against him and kissed her hard. When he let her go, he smiled and winked at her.

  “Godspeed, my beautiful Sabina,” he said before walking out the door.

  She was suddenly overwhelmed by sadness. She was leaving her beloved Florence.

  She was leaving Massimo.

  Chapter 16

  On the morning of Sabina’s departure Cecilia embraced her sister. Teresa, who would be accompanying Sabina to England, was enthralled with the idea of her mistress marrying into a noble family and moving to a foreign country.

  Mendi, freed from his cage, was perched upon a low branch of a tree within the courtyard. Sabina feared the cold English weather would kill him after so many years in the mild Tuscan climate. She said goodbye to her feathered friend and wished him well. James was glad the eerie bird was staying behind in Tuscany.

  Familiar with the unpredictability of life, Sabina thought it best to keep her charming palazzina. Even though the possibility of returning to Florence seemed slim, it was comforting to know that she owned a piece of property in her beloved Tuscany. She dismissed her servants and hired an old man named Iacopo to remain as caretaker.

  “It’s time to go,” James said, placing his hand on the carriage door.

  “I shall see you again, Cecilia,” Sabina promised tearfully.

  “I’ll pray for you and ask God to keep you safe.”

  The sisters embraced again and Sabina entered the carriage. Cecilia waved and continued to stare down the street long after the carriage had disappeared from view.

  Aside from Teresa, two servants accompanied Sabina on her journey. One of them was her cook, Maria, and the other, an Italian tutor named Umberto. She had insisted to James that their children would learn Tuscan culture and language. James had agreed to this condition.

  Sabina gazed at the Tuscan hills as the carriage made its way to Pisa. The olive trees and vineyards were being harvested, and she saw many people working in the fields. The tall cypress trees used to mark property lines looked majestic against the horizon. It was delightfully picturesque, and she wondered if the English countryside was as pleasant. She was suddenly overwhelmed by nostalgia.

  You haven’t even left your native land and already you miss it.

  The earl and his entourage were waiting for them in Pisa. Sabina stood to the side as her future father-in-law spoke to his son and the ship’s captain in English. The language sounded guttural to her ears, and she hoped it would not be too difficult to learn.

  “This is so exciting, Signora,” Teresa said. “Will I be learning English, too?”

  “Yes, of course.”

  “Sir James is most kind. I hope the English are as well-mannered as he is. I wonder what the English court is like. I’ve never been in the presence of a king before.”

  “Nor have I, but James and his father attend court regularly. I imagine that I’ll be expected to accompany them.”

  “As your lady-in-waiting, I’ll have to accompany you.”

  “Certainly,” Sabina agreed, amused. Teresa was more excited than she was, and it made her wonder if she was doing the right thing.

  James walked toward them and placed his hand on Sabina’s arm. “The captain insists we leave now in order to avoid a storm that is headed for Pi
sa. Hopefully, we’ll be far from here when it hits.”

  Sabina and her servants had never been on a ship before, and it was not long before they became seasick.

  The ship sailed north to Genoa, then along the French coast until it reached Marseilles, the large seaport of southeast France. Rather than sail around Spain and Portugal and head north toward the British Isles, the earl thought it would be faster to travel across France to Le Havre and set sail across the English Channel from there. By now, she and her servants had earned their sea legs and the ship’s movements no longer caused nausea.

  Sabina was thrilled by the foreign sights and sounds. The French had distinct fashion styles and their language sounded like an operatic staccato to her ears. As they walked along the pier into the city, James indulged his bride by purchasing some French sweetmeats, which she generously shared with her curious servants.

  Later, while they were on the ship crossing the English Channel, James approached Sabina. “We’re almost there.”

  “I’m glad to hear it.”

  “The journey is tedious, I know. You’ll like England.”

  “Of that I am certain. Tell me about Edward IV.”

  James was happy to accommodate his future bride’s request and recounted tales of his monarch. Sabina was surprised to learn that Edward had chosen a lowborn widow named Elizabeth Woodville for his wife. The queen had, at first, rejected the offer to be the king’s mistress, so the king proposed marriage.

  “How romantic.”

  “Some of the nobles believe it was foolish on the king’s part,” he explained. “They feel he could have made a better choice, one that would have provided a political alliance and strengthened his position.”

  “Your king married for love, and there’s something noble in that.”

  “Perhaps you’re right.” He touched her cheek. “Thank you for agreeing to marry me. Leaving your home, your sister, and your friends is not easy. I promise you won’t regret it.”

  “Land!”

  The shout had come from one of the sailors. The ship sailed closer to the port of Dover, allowing Sabina to admire the impressive white cliffs that rose from the sea.

  Everyone was exhausted by the time they reached Rochester. Torches burned outside the ancient stone walls of a mighty fortress. The impressive structure had been built for protection and lacked many of the decorative architectural elements so common in Florentine palazzos.

 

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