Allegra

by C. De Melo

  “Coming, coming,” Domenico mumbled as he shuffled across the floor.

  The orange feline rushed into the room as soon as he opened the door. Noticing the basket on his doorstep, he stepped onto the stoop and glanced around. A cloaked figure watched him from the end of the alley. The moment he bent to retrieve the basket, the figure disappeared around the corner. Fingering the linen cloth, he caught a glimpse of polished gold and immediately ducked back inside the house. After locking the door, he unwrapped each piece and spread them out on the table. His expression was one of incredulity as he stared at the fantastic jewelry.

  This time, Allegra had truly outdone herself.

  ***

  Matteo Vanusi called on Allegra after a respectable period of mourning. Hearing that his rival was trying to steal the object of his desire, Cesare Orsini also paid her a visit. The men sent gifts and flowers regularly, which Allegra passed along to the servants, who were more than happy to accept them. She treated both men coolly but politely, resisting their attempts at flirtation and physical contact.

  Matteo Vanusi paid Vittorio an unexpected visit one afternoon. The men talked for a while in private before Allegra was invited to join them.

  After polite greetings were exchanged, Vittorio said, “Signore Matteo informed me that he opened a new bottega on Via Roma, which is only a stone’s throw from the Mercato Nuovo.”

  “A fine location,” Allegra said. “I wish you success in your endeavor.”

  “Hopefully, you and your father can visit my establishment soon.”

  “We’d be delighted,” Vittorio replied, ignoring his daughter’s wry look.

  The magnificent brooch on Allegra’s bodice drew Matteo’s gaze. “You flaunt La Castagna’s jewelry often, yet it would please me greatly to see you wear one of my pieces,” he said, producing a small box from inside his cloak. “Naturally, nothing my hands create can match your beauty, but this small token of my admiration will hopefully delight you.”

  Allegra hesitated, glancing at her father. “You should not have troubled yourself, Signore Matteo.”

  “Open it,” he prompted.

  Allegra opened the box to find a pair of sapphire earrings inside. They were well made, but common.

  Matteo asked worriedly, “Do you like them?”

  “Of course she does,” Vittorio replied on his daughter’s behalf. “This is a most generous gift, is it not, Allegra?”

  “Yes,” she said dutifully. “Thank you, Signore Matteo.”

  When Matteo departed, Allegra inquired, “What did he want?”

  “To see you, obviously,” Vittorio replied drily. “You can’t simply give those earrings to the servants.”

  “I don’t want to wear them.”

  “Sweetheart, you can’t go through life loathing men.”

  “His jewelry is common and dull.”

  Vittorio raised an eyebrow. “Matteo came here to propose a partnership. He’s willing to split the profits with me if I can entice La Castagna to work exclusively for his bottega.”

  “Ha!”

  “He tried to convince Domenico, too, but he wasn’t interested.”

  “Matteo carries on as if he hates La Castagna.”

  “Oh, he does,” Vittorio assured her. “Matteo is no fool, however. He can’t compete with the best goldsmith in Tuscany.”

  ***

  Bianca gave birth to a girl, and named her Pellegrina, after her own birth mother. Allegra, along with a spattering of Pietro’s friends, was invited to a modest celebration at the Bonaventuri home. After a mediocre dinner consisting of boiled capons and strained conversation, Bianca led Allegra away from the guests. They sat together in the far corner of the room, well out of earshot.

  “Pellegrina is adorable,” Allegra said. “You must be so happy.”

  “I am,” Bianca affirmed. “She’s given me a reason to live.”

  Allegra’s brow creased in concern. “Don’t say that, Bianca. You have so much to live for…Pietro is happy, too, is he not?”

  Rather than reply, Bianca lowered her head and whispered, “There’s something I must tell you.”

  “What is it?”

  Bianca’s eyes slid toward her husband and his friends, revealing unmasked contempt. “Pietro has a mistress.”

  Although Isabella had already referred to Pietro’s adultery, Allegra feigned ignorance for the sake of her friend’s dignity. “Are you certain?”

  “I discovered a woman’s leather glove in his pocket—perfumed, no less. It was tightly rolled and tied with a ribbon, like a love token.”

  “Did you confront him with this discovery?”

  “Of course, I did! He said it was none of my concern.”

  Noticing the heightened color in her cheeks, Allegra said, “Calm yourself, you must retain your health and wits for little Pellegrina’s sake.”

  “So much for my husband’s love being restored once the baby is born.”

  “You were heavy with child,” Allegra reasoned. “It’s not uncommon for men to seek their physical needs elsewhere when their wives are indisposed by pregnancy. Pellegrina’s birth was recent, and you’re practically back to your old self again.”

  “Do you think so?” Bianca asked skeptically while examining herself in a nearby lusterless mirror. “Delivering Pellegrina has deprived me of my youthful vigor and beauty.”

  Hearing these words, Allegra was instantly transported back in time. Didn’t Anabella utter a similar lament after birthing Agostino? Naturally, her mind wandered from Anabella to poor, devastated Bruno. How was he? Where was he?

  “Do you agree?” Bianca demanded.

  Allegra averted her eyes from Bianca’s bulging waist. “Once your figure is fully restored, Pietro won’t be able to resist the most captivating woman in Florence.”

  “You exaggerate because you’re my friend.”

  “You were one of the most celebrated beauties in Venice, Bianca. The Florentines appreciate anything pleasing to the eye, including you.”

  Flattered, Bianca grinned from ear to ear. “You’re so good to me, my dear. Let’s go upstairs and sit by the window. We can watch the people below or we can discuss your new admirer.”

  Allegra shook her head in mock disdain as she followed Bianca down a short hallway and up a flight of stairs. “There’s nothing to discuss.”

  Bianca twisted the tight-fitting wedding band around her finger as she took a seat by the window. “I heard Matteo Vanusi is handsome.”

  “You heard correctly,” Allegra conceded, sitting beside her. “What I want to know is from whom.”

  “The servants, of course. There’s a gossip ring at the market, you know.”

  “I see.”

  “I also heard that he sends gifts on a regular basis. Flowers, sweetmeats, trinkets, and—if the rumor is true—a finely crafted lute gilded in silver.”

  “It’s true. I have no musical ability but I own a gilded lute.”

  “You don’t seem impressed.” When Allegra shrugged, Bianca added, “Many women would swoon over a man who sends such lavish gifts.”

  “I’m not one of them.”

  “What does it take to soften your hard heart, Allegra Castagno?”

  “I must reprimand my servants for their loose tongues.”

  “Harmless gossip, I assure you. Don’t be too harsh with them.”

  “They have far too much time on their hands,” Allegra countered. “I should assign extra chores to keep them busy.”

  Bianca tilted her head to the side. “I wish someone like Matteo Vanusi would court me like that. I would leave Pietro in an instant.”

  “He’s trying to coax my father into a business partnership by showering me with gifts.”

  “Regardless of the reason, I highly advise you to enjoy the attention while you can. Someday, it may all end.” Bianca gazed out the window, her eyes sad. “You don’t want to end up like me.”

  ***

  Michelangelo Buonarroti’s public funeral was held
on July 14, 1564 in the Basilica of San Lorenzo. The ostentatious affair was likened to a princely funeral, accompanied by great pomp and royal mourners. His coffin was displayed in the center of the nave, surrounded by his remarkable artwork and sculptures. The entire city of Florence, from peasant to noble, came to pay their last respects to one of the greatest artists of all time. The coffin was then transported to Santa Croce, and Michelangelo’s remains laid to rest in a magnificent sarcophagus designed by Vasari.

  The marriage between Francesco de’ Medici and Joanna of Austria took place the following year in December. To commemorate the grand event, Giambologna created a remarkable sculpture depicting Florence’s victory of its rival, Pisa. The piece was housed in the Palazzo Vecchio where politicians and foreign dignitaries would see it.

  The lavish wedding feast was celebrated with great pomp, lasting several days. Sumptuous dining, lively games, dancing, and various other forms of entertainment lasted throughout the afternoons and evenings.

  Adorned in a gown of plum velvet, Allegra accompanied her father to the Palazzo Pitti in order to partake of the celebration. It was the first social event either of them had attended since Stefania’s death. Torches illuminated the façade of the grandiose palazzo, and warm candlelight poured from the windows. Soft music filled the cold night air as they entered the courtyard.

  Bernardo had outdone himself in planning the wedding supper. Roasted swans, peacocks, and pheasants were presented with their feathers carefully intact. Tender suckling pig and savory stews were served alongside delicate vegetable soufflés and spicy sauces. Finally, servants appeared with bowls of fruits that no one had ever seen before.

  Bernardo took one of the bowls and presented it to Francesco himself. “From the Land of Amerigo to your table, my lord.”

  Francesco examined the reddish-yellow fruit before taking a bite. The juice and seeds dribbled down his chin. Wiping the moisture with his hand, he frowned. “Not very sweet, is it? The flavor is rather interesting.”

  Bernardo held the bowl out to Joanna. She tasted one, made a face, then set it down on her plate.

  Francesco took another bite. “I like it. What are they called?”

  “Pomi d’oro,” Bernardo replied. “Golden fruits.”

  At the meal’s conclusion, Bernardo dazzled the bride and groom with a magnificent castle made from thin sugar wafers. In addition to this, he had prepared his own special recipe of an icy vanilla custard that was both creamy and decadent.

  Allegra had never eaten so much delicious food in one sitting. Afterward, as the guests began milling about, she became aware of three things: Cesare’s hurtful glances in her direction, the suspicious looks on the faces of guests as they watched Troilo dancing with Isabella, and Francesco’s immense disappointment. At one point during the celebration, she even overheard an odd exchange between the groom and his new bride.

  “My father had the courtyard of the Palazzo Vecchio decorated specifically for you,” Francesco explained, his voice tight with annoyance. “The lunettes were painted with murals of Austrian towns in your honor. Naturally, we’re eager to show them to you.”

  Joanna’s wan smile didn’t reach her eyes. “Your father’s gesture was most kind, but quite unnecessary. We have many painted lunettes and frescoes where I come from.”

  Being a sensitive man, Francesco took offense to his wife’s lack of enthusiasm. “He did it to please you.”

  She sighed impatiently. “We have good manners where I come from, too. Rest assured, my lord, I shall thank him.”

  Changing the subject, he said, “Are you aware that we’re planning on building our own private passageway above the city? Your feet need never touch the ground when crossing the Arno River.”

  “I heard that rumor,” Joanna retorted dismissively.

  “It’s no rumor, I can assure you.”

  Ignoring him, she turned to speak to one of the ladies in her retinue.

  Allegra could not help feeling sorry for Francesco as she watched him shuffle off like a dejected, hurt little boy. Joanna’s snobbiness toward the Medici heir was appalling, to say the least. Isabella, who had also witnessed the newlywed couple’s exchange, came to stand beside Allegra.

  “What was that all about?”

  “Your brother wishes to show his bride the lunettes in the Palazzo Vecchio, and she seems to have little interest in them. She wasn’t impressed with Vasari’s corridor, either.”

  “Austrian bitch,” Isabella murmured as she exchanged an empty wine chalice for a full one. “I swear that woman has gone out of her way to be unpleasant to everyone from the moment she stepped foot in Florence.”

  “I’m sorry to hear it. Francesco is such a kind man.”

  Smelling the alcohol on Isabella’s breath, Allegra wondered exactly how many of those chalices she had consumed.

  Isabella took a deep sip and said, “My brother deserves better. I tried to warn my father, but he wouldn’t listen…Joanna is the daughter of the Holy Roman Emperor, after all. Politically speaking, it’s a brilliant match.”

  “Perhaps in time things between them will get better. Who knows? It may end up being a love match?”

  Isabella laughed without humor. “Like my marriage?”

  The sarcasm wasn’t lost on Allegra. Isabella’s union was obviously one of pure convenience. In fact, none of the Medici children were blessed with a love-match like the one their parents had enjoyed.

  Isabella’s eyes crinkled with mirth. “Look who’s here.”

  Allegra spun around and found herself face to face with Cesare Orsini.

  “Did you like the flowers I sent you yesterday?” he inquired.

  “I did, thank you.”

  “I still have no idea what your favorite flower is, so I’ll keep sending you different varieties until I do.”

  “Irises are my favorite, so you can stop now.”

  “Ah, the giglio, symbol of Florence,” he said. “I should have known. I shall procure irises for you from now on.”

  “Pity you told him,” Isabella said. “In time, he would have sent you an entire garden.”

  Allegra shook her head. “You shouldn’t spend your money on me.”

  Troilo arrived and said, “You seem perplexed, cousin.”

  Ignoring him, Cesare stepped in Allegra’s path as she started to walk away. “Don’t deprive us of your company so soon, Signorina.”

  “I’m going to check on my father.”

  “Your father is deeply engrossed in a political discussion,” Troilo said. “Now would not be the time to seek him out.”

  Allegra spied her father amid a group of old men wearing serious expressions. “Has something happened?”

  “Only a new tax.”

  “Have at least one dance with me,” Cesare interjected. “Please?”

  The young man was persistent, Allegra thought as she acquiesced for the sake of politeness. Isabella and Troilo grinned mischievously as Cesare led her toward a group of young people forming a ring by holding hands. The dancers parted the circle to allow the newcomers, who quickly stepped in tune with the music. As the beat and tempo of the merry tune quickened, the dancers were forced to keep pace. Couples paired off and switched throughout the melody, and Allegra soon found herself having fun for the first time since her mother’s death.

  Allegra and the other ladies spun around and, when she was face to face with Cesare again, he said, “You’re prettier when you smile. Perhaps now you’ll finally allow me to steal that kiss.”

  “Stealing is a sin,” she retorted with a wink.

  Construction on the Uffizi wasn’t yet finished when Cosimo commissioned Giorgio Vasari to create an elevated corridor connecting the Palazzo Vecchio to the Palazzo Pitti. Remarkably, it took only five months to complete the ingenious and highly ambitious project. Beginning on the south side of the Palazzo Vecchio, it joined the Uffizi and crossed the Lungarno degli Archibusieri, following the north bank of the River Arno over the Ponte Vecchio. The Manne
lli family refused to sell or alter their ancient tower, so the corridor had to be built around it, employing the use of sturdy brackets. Covering part of the façade of the Chiesa di Santa Felicita—where an opening within allowed the Medici family to attend Mass privately—the corridor snaked its way over rows of houses in the Oltrarno, ending at the Palazzo Pitti.

  The Medici could now traverse the route between the Palazzo Pitti and the Palazzo Vecchio without setting foot on the street. No more jostling between commoners or dodging the blades of bandits and pickpockets, either. More importantly, the corridor lowered the chances of assassination attempts on the Medici family.

  Chapter 14

  To Francesco’s immense disappointment, Joanna wasn’t impressed with the Vasari Corridor. In fact, the only comment she made, while holding a perfumed handkerchief to her nose, was in regard to the offensive odor being emitted by the butchers and fishmongers on the Ponte Vecchio. To be fair, her complaint was valid. The Arno River was polluted with animal carcasses and entrails, and the foul stench of rotting meat and rancid fish could summon the bile to anyone’s throat.

  Later, when he showed her Giambologna’s Florence Triumphant over Pisa, she remained stoic. When Francesco pressed her for a reaction, she peered down her nose at him and called the sculpture ‘cheap propaganda.’ This compelled the Medici heir to storm out of the Palazzo Vecchio, leaving Joanna alone with her ladies.

  Despite Francesco’s sincere efforts to please and impress his wife, Joanna remained standoffish toward him. In fact, every overture on the part of the Medici or other noble Florentines was met with Joanna’s arrogance and poorly masked contempt. The nobles grew to resent her lack of charm and her constant rejection of their beloved culture. For example, her thinness resulted from a self-imposed diet that many found insulting, including the servants who worked hard in the kitchen. She turned up her nose at most of the Tuscan meals on the premise that they were too rich, too saucy, too spicy, and too unlike the plain, wholesome Germanic food to which she was accustomed.