“Contessa? How is the bath?” called Lauro.
Cassandra yelped with surprise before she could stop herself. She realized her heart was beating fast and she was excited.
“Wonderful!” She managed to croak.
“Is everything all right?”
“Yes, yes! Perfectly lovely.”
“Do you need more time?”
She looked at the clothesline. Giovanni was standing, buttoning his pants, and the woman was pulling down her skirts, laughing.
“Um, just another minute.”
“Oh, take your time. Don’t hurry. I’ll just wait inside the door. Don’t worry, I won’t look,” he laughed.
The two young people were standing now. They kissed tenderly, then Giovanni walked away.
Cassandra eased herself up out of the bath and grabbed a drying sheet. She wrapped it around herself as best she could, stepping out of the water.
Suddenly, the young woman looked up at her. Their eyes met for just a moment, and then the woman glanced toward Giovanni, hurrying off across the field.
Cassandra turned away and slipped into the robe, tying it fast. When she looked back, the woman was rapidly grabbing the sheets off the line. She threw them into a basket and rushed to the house.
“I’m ready.”
The door to the tower was already open a crack. Lauro came out, wearing a long, indigo dressing gown. “I thought I’d take advantage while the water is still warm.”
“Take advantage?”
“Of the bath.”
“Oh, of course. Should I leave you the sheet?”
“Yes,” he said. “Caterina can remove everything when I am done.”
They passed each other as he moved toward the bath and she to the door.
“Enjoy!” she said.
“I shall.” He grinned.
Just as she stepped inside the tower and turned to close the door, Lauro turned his back to her and dropped his robe. For just a second, his muscular back, firm butt, and strong legs were exposed before he stepped into the water. She jerked her head away, smiled, and ran down the tower steps to her room. Once inside, she leaned against the door to catch her breath. She climbed onto the bed and lay still, letting the robe fall open. The erotic scene she’d witnessed played over again in her head. Only now, she was the laundress, and Lauro was Giovanni.
His voice wakened her from outside the door. How long had she been asleep? She quickly pulled the robe over her naked body and sat up, sweetly satisfied. He called out to her to join him in the music room after she’d dressed.
In the last light of the sun, she played at the harpsichord while Lauro sat and listened. Once darkness had completely fallen, he proposed an idea. They took quilts from his bed and walked up a nearby hill. She noticed he carried in his hand a tripod about a foot high, which appeared to be made of bronze. It didn’t surprise her entirely. She’d once seen an ancient Greek tripod in the Metropolitan Museum of Art. When they reached the crest, he lay the blankets down amidst the flowers and grass, and reclined on them. He set the tripod on the ground and took the rudimentary telescope from a cloth bag. A protruding stem on the telescope attached to a hole on top of the tripod. Once connected, he aimed the instrument at the nearly full moon, and adjusted the focus.
“Look,” he finally said.
She gazed through the lens. There it was, with its valleys, craters, and mountains clearly visible. It was as if she w ere as seeing it like this for the first time.
“No one I know of has thought to use eyeglass lenses in this way. I have discovered much about the night sky this way.”
“The moon is…a land, much like ours.”
“Yes. So beautiful in its pock-marked ugliness. Not the land of green cheese, or the mysterious face of a man, or a rabbit as some would say. It’s a world. I wonder if beings like us live there.”
Only the scent of green earth and clover, blowing cool across her forehead, reminded her she was still on her home planet.
“Here—something else.”
She gave her head a shake as Lauro took over the instrument. He aimed it toward the southeast, took a moment to adjust it, and then motioned her to take his position.
“This is also another world,” he said, “Jupiter. I want to tell you something I have discovered about her. There are four bright objects near her. If you look closely, you can see some of them now.”
“Yes….” She could just make out two.
“I have come to realize these are moons of sorts, such as ours. They do not move in unison with Jupiter, they rotate around her.”
“I’m astonished!” How could he be working on these discoveries so far ahead of Galileo yet no one would hear of him in the future?
“Cassandra,” he said, and turned on his side to look at her. She set the telescope aside. “Are you a very religious person; that is, very devout?”
“Well,” she hesitated. Lauro, of course, was Catholic, and must assume she would be too. She quickly reviewed her history: the man who had just become king, Henry VIII, was the head of the Catholic Church in England, the religion that all the people adhered to. “I do my duty to God and the Church as required,” she offered tentatively.
“Would it shock you to consider that perhaps the Earth is not the center of the universe?”
“I…I hadn’t thought about it before.”
“It is not something I can speak of openly. But you seem like a person not likely to judge me for having thoughts of that kind.”
They heard the faraway creak of wagon wheels on a road. Lauro sat up and looked around.
“I promise you I wouldn’t,” she whispered.
“You see, if the moons of Jupiter revolve around her, that means not everything in the universe revolves solely around the Earth.”
“I see….” This was a very dangerous thought for him to be having and could be considered heresy.
“Now, let’s look at Saturn, she’s there in the southwest.” He aimed the telescope carefully and looked for a while before turning it over to her.
She had to adjust the position of the telescope and the tripod a little because the planet had already moved, but suddenly, there it was, apparent with its rings. “It’s so beautiful,” she whispered. She looked at it for some time longer while they were both silent. Finally, she took the ‘scope away from her eye and spoke. “Lauro, you don’t need to be afraid to tell me anything. I have a mind that is open to new ideas.”
Everything was quiet except the chirping of crickets. His eyes were bright in the moonlight, studying her.
“I am not like most women,” she continued, “only interested in household matters. I am fascinated by the world of science, more than you know.”
“You are an intellectual, like my Teresa.”
“I suppose. But tell me more about your thoughts on the structure of the universe.”
He looked away, out over the hills. She looked too, at the outline of Cypress stands that were like castle towers jutting into the night sky.
“I think…I think the sun is the center of the universe,” his voice was barely a whisper now.
Saying such a thing to anyone else could get him killed. “I’m not shocked,” she said quietly. “Certainly no more so than when I found out the world wasn’t flat.”
He chuckled. “There are plenty of idiots who still deny the truth of that fact.”
She rolled over on her back. The stars were a thick blanket above. “I won’t tell anyone what you said, and you must not either. But rest assured, there are scientists in Europe who are having these same ideas. I’ve heard of them in my circles. Pursue this train of thought, Lauro, but don’t tell anyone just yet. Eventually, if you live long enough, there may be a time when you can speak of them.”
“How do you know this?”
“It is just a feeling I have.”
They both gazed at the cobalt sky, where the Milky Way shone like a river of light. She could almost touch it. “It’s the most beautiful thing
I have ever seen. Here in Tuscany the air is so clear. In England, the sky is often muddied by clouds. This is a sky one can only see in this place, in this time.”
“You speak about time as if you can somehow see into the future.”
She turned to look directly at him. “I sometimes feel as if I can.”
He regarded her thoughtfully as their gazes locked. Then, with one finger, he brushed a strand of hair away from her cheek. She held her breath.
“Come,” he said softly. “It’s getting cold.”
He stood and helped her up, pulling the blankets from the ground. He held one for her to wrap around her shoulders, and they walked back to the villa, his arm still closed protectively about her. She fixed her eyes ahead, toward their destination. He was a fascinating man; someone with ideas that could surely change the world, or get him killed, if anyone found out what he was doing. It was best not to push him further into the kinds of thoughts he was having. She almost turned to look at him. If she did, their faces would be so close. No. She was there to prevent romance from happening, not to get wrapped up in one. Why did she have to keep reminding herself of that?
Chapter Eight
Cassandra paced in her room. The day was overcast, preventing her from telling the time from the position of the sun, but the sixteen tolls of the myriad church bells confirmed it was noon. It wasn’t like Jake to sleep so late. He hadn’t been checking in with her the last couple of days. What had he been up to?
She went to his room and tapped on the door. No answer. She edged it open a crack. There he was, sprawled amidst the covers of his bed. She went closer, intending to nudge him awake, and then saw his journal lying open on the bed. Giuliana’s name caught her eye. Before she knew it, it was in her hands and she was reading:
Travel Journal, Jacob Grenefeld, June 23, 1509—I stayed at the studio long after the other artists, long after the light was gone. I ate in a nearby inn, then returned to gather up my things. There, waiting for me by the gate, was Giuliana. Lauro had lent me a key so I opened the gate and we went inside the studio. Piero, she said, would be out gambling until all hours. It was chilly in the thick-walled space so I lit a fire. Giuliana took off her outer robe and laid it on the floor in front of the hearth. She began to undress. Each article of clothing she removed she added to the makeshift bed. We lay down on it and made love.
Now, there is no doubt she is the one for me and I for her. We had been waiting for this moment, though we were convinced it would never come. And now that it has, we belong to each other entirely.
We dressed and I walked her to within sight of the palazzo, where she stole in a back entrance. I went around the corner to the gambling house and sure enough, there was Guerrini. He didn’t see me and I didn’t stay, but walked quickly back here to the villa where I now write this by candlelight.
Cassandra threw the book at Jake’s head and he bolted upright.
“What the hell?”
“I read what you did last night.”
“Who said you could read it?” Jake grabbed the book.
“You let me read everything else!”
“I was going to rip out these pages and burn them. I just wrote it so I could make sense of what happened. I woke up during the night and wondered if I had dreamt it.”
“I wish you had.”
He raised his head defiantly. “I couldn’t help myself, Cassie. I’m still in love with her.”
“And how is that going to turn out? You’re going to have to break her heart all over again!”
“I know.” He looked down at his sheets.
“What you’re doing is a lot more than distracting her. Is this what you intended all along?”
“No, of course not. We have a mission, and I intended to fulfill it. But the moment I saw her, I knew it would be hard to keep away from her.”
Cassandra opened her mouth to speak, but a soft rap on the door stopped her.
“Contessa, are you in there?” Caterina’s timid voice called.
“Yes,” Cassandra answered impatiently.
“Signor Marino is here to see you.”
“What’s that about?” asked Jake, cradling his book protectively.
“I don’t know.” Cassandra took a step toward the door.
“If you spend too much time with him, he won’t be able to work on Giuliana’s portrait. Anyway, you don’t need to lead him on. There’s obviously nothing going on between him and Giuliana.”
“Then our job is done. Maybe it’s time to go home.” Yet that wasn’t what she wanted.
“No! We can’t be sure yet Francesco is safe. We have to stay at least until July second since that’s the day he died in the alternate reality.”
“Well, it’s better I go ahead and spend time with him, then. If he’s with me, at least we know he’s out of harm’s way. I suggest you, however, do just as you said, and burn those pages. Carver will be furious if he knows you let yourself succumb to Giuliana. Again.” She stalked out.
“Come walk with me,” Francesco said as she met him in the entry way.
“Come with you where? It looks like it’s going to rain.”
“No, no. It’s early yet. If it’s going to rain, it won’t start until late afternoon.”
“Did you come from the studio?”
“Yes. Maestro Sampieri was called away to attend to a problem with a mural he’s restoring in the Palazzo Pubblico. He asked that I come and tell you he can’t work on your sketches again until Friday.”
“Why didn’t he just send a messenger? You must be very busy with Signora Guerrini’s portrait.”
“He doesn’t trust his loutish apprentices to speak to a woman coherently,” he laughed. “Besides. I have to wait for the paint to dry on the portion of the background I’ve begun before I can lay more. So, I thought you and I could proceed with our project.” He patted a sack he was carrying on his back. “I have my drawing tools and parchment here, and a flask of a delicious wine, some bread, and cheese. We’ll have a picnic.”
A walk sounded good. Or maybe it was the glint in the man’s golden-brown eyes that made the idea so appealing. Yet she didn’t want him to think she was eager. “But you don’t like to draw in the midday light.”
“There are enough clouds to provide me with the muted light I prefer.”
“All right,” she finally said with a smile. “Let me get my hat.”
“And grab a quilt to sit on,” he called to her as she left.
They had been wandering through the countryside for an hour and Cassandra was beginning to tire. The day had grown hot and muggy.
“Francesco, where are we going?”
“I just remembered the perfect spot. Come. It’s right through here.”
They pushed through a thick stand of trees and brush to find a dilapidated farmhouse with no more than two rooms still standing. There was no door, no shutters on the windows, and half of the thatch roof had fallen in.
Francesco stepped through the doorway, but Cassandra held back. “Is it safe?”
“Yes, I’ve been here before.”
She followed him inside to find a floor covered thickly with old straw. Doves cooed in the remaining eaves. Dust floated through the dim sunlight that came down in a shaft into the middle of the room. The walls were of coarse mud. It was cool inside and smelled of earth.
“Put the mantle down over here.”
She laid it where the straw was piled high in a corner. They sat down on it and he pulled out a wine skin and the food, wrapped in a cloth. He handed her the wine and she took a long drink. She was thirsty and it was cool. The alcohol immediately made her head grow light. Her stomach growled.
Francesco opened the cloth on top of the quilt. They ate, and drank the wine freely.
“Very well,” Francesco announced after they’d finished most of the food. “Are you ready to let me sketch you?”
“Here?”
“Yes, the light is perfect. Leave the food and wine where it is and incline
there, just behind it, with your head on one hand. It will be a beautiful composition.”
She did as he asked. He seated himself on the ground a ways off and began to draw.
“Don’t hesitate to drink more wine, Contessa,” he said. “I want you to be relaxed.”
She did. The taste of it was odd, flavored with leather, but she was thirsty.
After a while, he put aside his parchment and charcoal and went to her. He moved aside the food and put the wineskin just within her reach.
“Can I ask you a favor?”
Her skin tingled with warmth. “Of course.”
“Take off your chemise.”
“What?”
“Yes, maybe you can just pull it up over your head without taking off your bodice and skirt. I need to see more…flesh.”
“I thought we agreed you weren’t going to try to get me naked.” She tried a seductive smile.
“No…that is, unless you want to.”
“I don’t think I’m ready for that.”
“Then we won’t go so far. But if I could see some skin at least, it would help me.”
She stood and loosened the ties on the side of her bodice, then yanked the chemise up by the neckline. With some effort she was able to pull it up through the skirt and out the top of the bodice, off her arms and over her head. She flung it aside with a laugh. “And now?”
“Oh, beautiful! Beautiful. Very good. Now, lie back down in the same position.”
She did as he asked, grabbing the wine skin and taking another gulp. “I’m drinking more than my share,” she giggled.
“No, no. It’s best I not drink too much when I’m drawing.”
Before taking up his instruments again, he approached her. “Do you mind?”
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