Daughters of the Doge (34 page)

Thomas looked at me again. ‘Why does she want to meet him? Perhaps his reputation amongst the Venetian nobility is higher than we realized.’ He looked out of the window, and then turned rapidly. ‘You don’t think she’s a courtesan on the prowl do you? He would make an easy target. He is so gullible.’

I swallowed hard. This was going to be more difficult than I had thought. I was saved by Courtenay’s manservant, Carlo, who announced Veronica’s arrival. She floated into the room dressed in the height of Venetian fashion and looking as perfect as always.

‘Thomas, allow me to introduce Veronica Franco.’

She took his hand and made the smallest dip of courtesy. Thomas inclined his head and led her to a chair. She thanked him but remained standing, the light by the window showing off her clothes perfectly. Perhaps modelling for Titian and Tintoretto taught her something about catching the light.

‘Signora Franco, you and Richard have met before, I believe?’ Thomas was up to his old tricks, playing the simpleton, but she was his match.

‘Indeed, once or twice. At the artist Tintoretto’s, was it not, Richard?’

I looked at her, smiling in the sunshine, and I could smell her and taste her again. I felt my face flush at the memory, and wanted to take her hand and lead her to my room at this very moment. Concentrating hard, I tried to play my part. ‘I believe it was. Ah, here is the earl now.’

Courtenay swept into the room, also dressed as if he was about to attend a state banquet.

‘Veronica, allow me to introduce Edward Courtenay, Earl of Devon and a member of the ancient and royal house of Plantagenet.’

I knew he would want me to pile it on thickly and he beamed his best smile. ‘Madame Franco. Enchanted, I am sure. What a pleasure it is to meet you.’

Taking her by the elbow, he led her nearer to the window, their backs pointedly turned to Thomas and me. He was talking loudly and rapidly and I knew he was immediately smitten by her. Veronica, in turn, had eyes only for the earl, and the two of them stood like a pair of lovers reunited after a long separation, hands clasped, faces close together and animated by their total absorption in one other.

Thomas and I were clearly irrelevant and he drew me into a far corner. ‘Now I understand that look of expectation on your face. She’s quite a lady.’

I looked across at the couple, lost in each other’s eyes, and nodded. She was doing her job, and doing it to perfection. It was clear to me now that a great courtesan must be like a diplomat, able to move comfortably amongst the nobility upon which she feeds, and possessing that facility I had seen so often at Court in England, of being able to lock on to her subject and make him or her believe they are the most important person in her life, if only for that critical moment.

‘You are going to find this difficult, aren’t you Richard?’

I swallowed hard and nodded. ‘I already am.’ Seeing her with him, of all people, was indeed hard. But even harder was the need to face the question I had been keeping in a locked box at the back of my mind. How much of the recent afternoon’s activity had been personal on her part, and how much professional? Did she care anything for me, or was I simply a convenient cog in the mechanism of her ambition?

Walking home from being with her three days before, I had begun to salvage my embarrassment. I had decided that she had refused my money simply because our relationship was personal, and that she might, perhaps, have interpreted my reaching for my purse in a favourable light – as an indication that I had not impertinently presumed that to be the case.

Now a different interpretation occurred to me. Our love-making was not (at least on her part) a personal thing at all, but part of a trade, in which she pleasured me and I secured her introduction to a rich and gullible English earl, who might replace or supplement the other nobles whose patronage she needed to survive. I had been paid and I had delivered.

‘However, dear lady, I am committed to visiting the Duke Ercole d’ Este in Ferrara for a short time. Do you know the duke at all?’

Courtenay was name-dropping, as usual. I saw Veronica pretend to search her memory, then shake her head. ‘Not well – not, as you might say, closely.’

‘I look forward to seeing you immediately upon my return.’

She looked at him longingly. ‘I shall count the days.’

The earl called for his personal servant to escort ‘the lady’ home, and she left, looking back over her shoulder at him and smiling as she went.

Thomas took my elbow. ‘Come, let’s go for a walk. We are not needed here.’

I not only felt I was not needed; I felt I was invisible. She had not even bidden me farewell.

C
HAPTER
40

March the 27th 1556 – Ca’ da Mosto

I sat beside the great working doors of our
palazzo
as the grumbling tradesmen brought down the chests. Thomas had one medium-sized chest and a leather satchel for his personal possessions, whilst the earl had found the need for seven of his nine large chests to be loaded on to the barge.

With each box that was loaded, I felt some pressure lift. It was not until I faced the prospect of having the house to myself that I realized how oppressive I had been finding Courtenay’s company. Thomas was much easier to live with; and he and I had settled into a comfortable co-existence, meeting when circumstances arose but sometimes not seeing each other for two or three days.

Now, at last, they were leaving, and did not plan to be back for a month. Their departure filled me with elation and I could not wait to see them go.

The earl called me up to his room, where he had tasks and reminders listed on sheets of paper in front of him. ‘Richard. Good. I need to run through some bits and pieces with you before we go.’

I was used to this procedure and responded in my usual way. ‘Shall I make notes, Your Grace?’

He shook his head. ‘No need. It’s all here.’

He waved me forward and together we went through the list of tasks he wished to remind me were my responsibility for the next month. Since the vast majority of them I normally performed anyway, the process seemed somewhat unnecessary, but taking my lead from Thomas, I listened while the earl read them off one by one.

‘Now, these two are new and important. First, the portrait. I
may
have something made while I am in Ferrara but I don’t want to lose the opportunity with your man Tintoretto, so keep him warm. We can always tickle him up a bit when I return, if he’s needed.

‘Second, I sense we are reaching the end of our period of active support with the Doge and I should like to become less dependent on his generosity. That being the case, will you please find us a house to rent, so that we can move there as soon as Thomas and I return – earlier, if you find it convenient. This purse contains sufficient money for an initial deposit and you are hereby authorized to sign the lease yourself He waved an official-looking piece of paper at me.

‘I would like something comfortable and of a reasonable size, but not necessarily a
palazzo.
What is important is that it should be presentable to visitors and accessible to the dear lady, Madame Franco. You will have to find out discreetly where she lives, but I am sure you can use your ingenuity. Do not pay more than three hundred ducats a year without writing to me first, but on no account must you sacrifice quality. Is that understood?’ As always, I nodded my head, tried to look sensible and reliable, and hoped he would not repeat himself too many times.

An hour later they were gone, and apart from Cuoca and Bimbo, the two remaining house servants, I had the place to myself; I had my freedom. The question was, what could I do with it? I made a resolution not to waste the opportunity. I was in a beautiful city, at the prettiest and most comfortable time of year and I had a small group of new friends to talk to. I had plenty of my own money, and all the time in the world.

I resolved to do three things.

First, I would spend more time learning to draw at Jacopo Tintoretto’s. Perhaps he would allow me to do some painting if I paid for my materials? The apprentices there had become good friends and Jacopo himself seemed to have taken a liking to me, so the omens were good. At the back of my mind was the lingering fascination with the faceless woman with the olive skin, who so often seemed to be hovering out of sight when I was there but had never made herself fully visible. Who was she, why was she there, and why did Tintoretto allow her to listen in to our conversations?

Second, I resolved to use the next month to further my mission to help Suor Faustina. I had promised her I would act on her behalf, but the truth was I did not have any idea how to help her escape. I could not fail her – I could not live with that. I had made a promise and I must keep it, somehow. Meanwhile, time was running out.

My third resolution brought me back to Veronica. I had decided I was acting like a lovesick boy, and was in danger of making a fool of myself, if I had not already done so. Looking back, she had not misled me at any stage. Jacopo had introduced her as a courtesan and she had made no secret of it. She had wanted an introduction to Courtenay and had befriended me – perhaps as a means to secure an introduction. I had to grow up and come to terms with the reality that she probably did not feel for me any of the longing I was currently feeling for her.

I decided I must see her again soon to secure her continuing friendship, for I had come to a conclusion: jealousy would not help any of us. I would not walk away from her in petulance simply because I could not have her as a lover.

A month. It was not a long time, with so many objectives in mind.

C
HAPTER
41