by Speer, Flora
“Mother,” Bianca said in a quavering voice, “there will be violence done when Andrea and Vanni take Monteferro and Aullia. There will be bloodshed, and people hurting each other.”
“Of course there will,” Eleonora said. “Warfare cannot be conducted without violence.”
“I can’t bear the thought of Vanni or Andrea being wounded or killed. Mother, can’t you stop it now, before it starts?”
“Bianca, this plan was originally intended to restore your birthright to you,” Eleonora declared. “To achieve that goal, a certain amount of violence was acceptable to me. However, the plan has been taken out of my hands, and nothing I can do or say will deflect those men from their intentions. You heard them with your own ears.”
“I don’t care about my birthright,” Bianca cried. “I don’t want anyone killed for my sake, and I don’t particularly want to be a duchess. I would be content to live here at Villa Serenita always, if only Vanni could be with me.”
“How long do you think an ambitious man like Vanni would be content with our reclusive way of life?” Eleonora demanded.
“Mother, please.” Rosalinda put a protective arm around her sister. “Can’t you see how upset Bianca is? She has found a man she loves and now—”
“What has love to do with a noble marriage?” Eleonora interrupted, her voice rising in anger.
“You loved our father,” Bianca cried.
“An affection which grew slowly, after we were married for a while, after I knew him well enough to appreciate the kind of man he was,” Eleonora said. “My marriage was arranged by my father. I had nothing to say about the choice of my husband.”
“Well, I do want something to say about whom I marry.”
Bianca’s defiance startled her mother, who stared at her for a moment before responding. When she spoke, it was plain that Eleonora was doing her best to control her feelings, but the undercurrent of rage over alterations in her plans that she was powerless to prevent, and her belief that she had been deliberately used and misled, were all there in her voice.
“My daughters will marry when, and whom, I decide they will marry,” Eleonora said. “Do not think you can thwart my decision on this. I forbid you to see either of those young men, or Francesco, before they leave tomorrow morning. Nor will I allow you to receive letters from any of them. Valeria, I expect you and Bartolomeo to stand with me on this. See that my wishes are carried out.”
“You know I will,” Valeria said.
“Mother, you are being cruel!” Rosalinda cried. She was deeply disturbed by her parent’s attitude, yet she understood why Eleonora was so angry and so adamant. Torn between wanting to calm her mother and wanting to soften Bianca’s distress, she could not think about her own situation. Consideration of what she would do in the future would have to come later. “Perhaps if you would relent enough to let Bianca see Vanni, so she can say a final farewell to him, she would not be quite so unhappy.”
“I thought both of you had renounced those wicked men,” Eleonora said. “You did refuse to marry them. Have you changed your minds so quickly?”
“No,” Bianca admitted with a sob, “but I can’t stop wanting Vanni.”
“You will have to learn to stop,” said her mother. “A woman can learn to do anything if she puts her mind to it. I have learned to accept events that, when I was your age, I could not believe it was possible to survive. Yet I did survive, just as I will find a way to use this evening’s betrayal, to turn it around until I have achieved what I set out to do last winter when Bartolomeo first recruited Andrea to our purpose.”
“Rosalinda,” said Valeria, “why don’t you take Bianca to her room and stay with her for a while, until she recovers from her distress?”
“I will never recover from this evening,” Bianca said.
“Oh, do as Valeria says,” Eleonora ordered, sounding thoroughly exasperated. “I cannot think with you weeping and sighing, Bianca, nor with Rosalinda looking as if the world has collapsed around her. Just see that you do not attempt to rejoin your would-be lovers, for if you do, I will know of it and you will be severely punished.”
“Go on, girls,” Valeria urged in a gentler voice. “Your mother won’t be alone. I will be here as long as she wants my company.”
“Come, Bianca.” Rosalinda led her sister out the door and down the corridor to her room. Bianca’s bedroom was draped in rosy silk, with many cushions scattered about. It was very different from Rosalinda’s simpler room, which was blue and white. After pushing aside the billowing folds of pink silk bed hangings, Rosalinda shoved several pillows out of the way so she and Bianca could sit together. Bianca collapsed on Rosalinda’s shoulder, her tears drenching Rosalinda’s gown.
“I was so happy today,” Bianca sobbed.
“So was I,” Rosalinda whispered, thinking of tall fir trees, a sunlit meadow, and Andrea’s hot, stirring kisses. Regret for what she had lost stabbed through her.
“Until this quarrel erupted.” Bianca gulped back another sob.
“It is far more than a quarrel, Bianca.”
“I know it is. Rosalinda, my heart is breaking in two. How can I love a man whose father killed my father? How can I want to be in Vanni’s arms, or fear for him when he goes into battle? But I do! Oh, I do! If Vanni dies at Monteferro, I will want to die, too. Oh, I am more wicked than I ever dreamed I could be! This love I feel for Vanni is far more reprehensible than embracing him when I thought he was Andrea.”
“Our mother would say it is.” Rosalinda held her sister tighter.
“What of you?” Bianca asked. “Now that we know everything, do you still want Andrea?”
“I don’t know what I want,” Rosalinda said. “I only know I am in great pain.”
“But you are not crying. You are so brave.” Bianca sighed. “I wish I had half your courage.”
“Take off your dress and I’ll put you to bed,” Rosalinda offered, to prevent Bianca from asking any more questions.
“I am sure I won’t sleep.” Nevertheless, Bianca began to pull at the laces of her dress. Rosalinda helped her sister to remove her clothes and then tucked her beneath the rose-colored counterpane.
“You are so good to me.” Bianca tried to smile through her continuing tears. “I do not know why you should be so kind to me when I am so wicked.”
“You are not wicked, only foolish sometimes.” Rosalinda sat on the bed and took her sister’s hand. “If I am kind, it’s because you are my sister and I love you in spite of any differences between us. And because I know we are all capable of great foolishness.”
“Not you.” Bianca drew a deep breath and shifted to a more comfortable position. “Not Mother. I do not think she has ever been foolish in her entire life.”
“Oh, my dear, you have no idea how foolish I have been,” Rosalinda whispered. “As for Mother, I suspect she was on the verge of a foolish act and regrets her weakness now, and that is why she is so angry with Andrea and Vanni. And with Francesco. Especially with Francesco.”
Bianca sighed again, and her hand in Rosalinda’s went limp. Rosalinda smoothed back her sister’s golden hair and kissed her brow. Bianca did not respond. Sure that she was asleep, Rosalinda tiptoed out of the room.
In her own bedchamber she paced back and forth, not in anger as her mother had done, but in grief and loss. The tears came slowly, seeping out of her eyes and running down her face. She did not sob or rub at her eyes as Bianca did when she wept. Rosalinda just kept walking across her room, again and again, trying to think, to find a way out of her own problems, and Bianca’s. As she paced, Bianca’s question resounded in her mind.
“Now that we know everything, do you still want Andrea?”
Rosalinda did not know the answer to that question. Physically, she wanted him. Her body ached for his touch, but she was not sure that Andrea loved her. He had lied to her, by what he had said and by what he had deliberately left unsaid. He had admitted that he was using Eleonora to get what he wanted. Rosalind
a thought he had been using her, too. He had not hesitated to make love to her while he was hiding in the attic room because, in Andrea’s mind, Rosalinda already belonged to him! She had been promised to him, and he was merely taking possession of his gift a few months ahead of Eleonora’s schedule. And no one had bothered to tell Rosalinda. After the revelations of that evening, Rosalinda doubted that she could ever trust Andrea again.
But she was carrying his child. She was certain of it now. If her mother was right in her accusations, the baby growing beneath Rosalinda’s heart was the grandchild of the man who had plotted to kill that baby’s other grandfather. She was glad now that she had postponed telling Andrea about the baby. He would go away on the morrow unaware that one passionate act had resulted in a new life. Rosalinda would see to it that he would never know.
She would not have to bear the baby alone. Her mother would soon become aware of Rosalinda’s condition, for someone was bound to ask why she had no monthly linens to be washed. When that happened, Rosalinda would have to reveal her secret. Her mother would be disappointed in her, and more angry than ever with Andrea, but this would be one more of those unhappy events in her life that Eleonora would learn to survive.
“No, not unhappy.” Rosalinda put a hand on her abdomen and spoke to the baby growing there. “I will never let anyone make you feel unwelcome. Your Aunt Bianca will love you almost as much as I do. She will dote on you, and so will Valeria and Bartolomeo. They both love children and regret that they were never able to have any of their own.
“Mother will forgive me the very first moment she sees you,” Rosalinda went on, still speaking to the baby. “And as for me, I will give you all the love you deserve, in addition to the love I would have bestowed on Andrea, if our lives had been different. You will grow up here, at Villa Serenita, safe and happy. I’ll teach you to ride. I’ll show you all the mountain paths I know. If you are a girl, Bianca can teach you fine needlework, for I am not very clever at it, and Valeria will show you how to cook. If you are a boy, Bartolomeo and Lorenzo and the other men-at-arms can teach you manly skills. Boy or girl, Mother will surely want you to learn Latin. I warn you now, my little love, declensions are no fun.”
“Rosalinda?” Unheard by her sister, Bianca had crept into the room. “I woke up and couldn’t fall asleep again. Who were you talking to?”
“I’m sorry if I disturbed you,” Rosalinda said, brushing at her wet cheeks.
“You didn’t.” Bianca drew nearer. “You’re crying. You never cry. What’s wrong?”
“The same thing that made you cry.”
“No,” Bianca said. “You aren’t like me. What happened this evening might make you angry, or determined to do something to change an unhappy situation. It wouldn’t make you cry.”
“I can’t tell you what’s wrong,” Rosalinda said. “Not yet.”
“Why not, when you know all of my secrets? I won’t tell anyone else if you don’t want me to. Is it something to do with Andrea? Why do I even ask? Of course it is.”
“I have to tell someone,” Rosalinda whispered. “I’ve been hiding this secret for more than a month and every day I’ve grown more certain of what is happening to me. Bianca, will you swear not to speak a word of what I’m going to say until Mother knows of it?”
“I swear,” Bianca said, coming closer still.
“I am with child by Andrea.” It was a great relief to Rosalinda to say the words aloud. By doing so, she gave form and substance to what was happening within her body.
“You and Andrea? That night when I saw you together in the servants’ quarters?” Bianca gasped at the enormity of her sister’s confession. “Oh, Rosalinda! Does he know?”
“I haven’t told him. After what happened tonight, I don’t think I can tell him.”
“Oh, my poor dear.” Bianca touched Rosalinda’s arm, her eyes wide with surprise and sympathy. Then the sisters were holding on to each other, both of them in tears. All differences between them were forgotten. They were allies again, as they had been in childhood, and Bianca remembered that she was the elder. It was her turn to offer comfort.
“It could easily have been me,” Bianca said. “I would have done nothing to stop Vanni, no matter what he wanted to do with me. I cannot blame you, Rosalinda, for I have given way to the same desires. Only tell me what I can do that will be of most help to you, and I will do it.”
“At least we are so private here that no one outside the villa will know,” Rosalinda said, trying to find a brighter side to her situation. “There will be no great scandal over this. Mother would hate a scandal. So would I. Not for myself, but because scandal would mark this innocent child before it is ever born.”
“There is one possible solution, if you are willing,” Bianca said. “Andrea does want to marry you.”
“After what I learned about him tonight, I’m not sure I want to marry him. And you heard Mother. She would never allow it. And if I were to run away and marry him, what a huge scandal that would create! What would the people of Aullia say? Once they learn who my father was, what would my impetuous action do to Andrea’s chance to become Duke of Aullia? There is nothing else for me, Bianca, but to stay here and tell Mother the truth and face her wrath. At least I won’t have to tell her for a few weeks. She may be calmer by then. And I am glad it isn’t you. I cannot imagine what Mother would do if the daughter she hopes to make Duchess of Monteferro were to announce that she is with child while still unwed,” Rosalinda finished on an unsteady laugh.
“Don’t joke about this,” Bianca said. “Now, I want you to listen to me. Whatever happens, no matter what Mother says when she learns of your condition, or how angry she is, you and I will face this problem together. I will not be separated from you, and I will help you all I can. Nor will I allow Mother or Valeria to insist that an unmarried girl cannot attend a lying-in. I swear to you, Rosalinda, I will be with you, holding your hand, when your baby is born.”
“Thank you,” Rosalinda whispered. “I am so glad you are my sister.”
“It’s about time I showed some courage. You know, we could use the small room next to this one for a nursery.” Leaving Rosalinda’s side, Bianca went to the wall, to knock softly on it. “One of the men-at-arms is an acceptable carpenter in his spare hours. I heard Valeria say so after he made some extra pantry shelves for her. We’ll have him cut a door just here, and put a nice frame around it. Then you will be able to get to the nursery without going into the corridor when you want to tend the baby. Isn’t there a cradle in one of the storerooms upstairs?”
“‘Bianca! “
“There, I’ve made you laugh. I knew I could. Rosalinda, did you know that Ginevra, one of the women who helps Valeria in the kitchen, is expecting a baby?”
“So I have heard,” Rosalinda said, remembering the useful information Ginevra had imparted to her.
“Well,” Bianca went on, “Valeria told Ginevra to rest as much as possible. Therefore, you must rest, too. You are not to walk back and forth all night in your bare feet. Get into bed right away.”
“Have you become a midwife?” Rosalinda smiled at her sister’s enthusiasm, but she was forced to admit that she was tired. It had been a long, eventful day, and her body craved rest. She got into bed as ordered, and Bianca joined her. They fell asleep curled up in each other’s arms.
* * * * *
It was not quite dawn when Rosalinda was awakened by a soft knocking on her bedroom door. Bianca still slept beside her, undisturbed by the insistent sound. Sliding out of bed, Rosalinda went to the door. She had only opened it a crack when Andrea pushed his way into the room.
“You may not come in here,” she protested. “Mother has forbidden me to speak to you.”
“We are leaving shortly.” Andrea reached for her, but Rosalinda moved away. With one finger on her lips, she pointed to Bianca’s sleeping form.
“I won’t wake her,” Andrea said in a softer tone. “I could not leave without saying good-bye to you. Rosalind
a, in spite of the quarrel last evening, I beg you to trust me, and to believe in my honesty. I am sure that when I present Monteferro to your mother, she will forgive me for not telling her who I am. Then I will claim you for my own.”
“Claim me?” Rosalinda repeated. She was hard put to keep her voice low and not shout at him. “How dare you say such a thing? I told you last night that I am not a prize of war.”
“I didn’t mean it that way,” Andrea insisted with some impatience. “How else can a penniless exile win the woman he wants, except by making his fortune in war? I agreed to your mother’s plan because I knew it was the only way I could hope to regain the position and the wealth that would make her consider me as a suitor for your hand. That is why I insisted on her promise that I might marry you once Monteferro was conquered. It was because I want you, not because I think you are a piece of loot, to be taken by the victor.”
“If you were another man, with a different father, your scheme might have worked,” Rosalinda said. “You don’t know my mother very well, Andrea. She will never forgive you for what you have done. If it’s true that your father had my father killed, there can be no future happiness for you and me. Even if you could convince my mother to agree, I would still refuse, no matter how often you declare that you want me.”
He had not said he loved her, only that he wanted her. Tears of hurt and anger filled Rosalinda’s eyes. Wanting was not the same as loving, and she knew the difference. She wondered if Andrea did.
“Andrea?” Vanni pushed his way into the room. “Francesco is looking for you. We have to leave now. Ah, Bianca, my dear love.”
Seeing Bianca, who was, amazingly, still asleep in spite of the two men in the room and their whispered conversation, Vanni stole toward the bed.
“If you waken her, you will answer to me,” Rosalinda said. “She only fell asleep a short time ago. Leave her alone. Leave me alone. Neither of you should be here.”