Daughters of the Doge (58 page)

July the 28th 1556 – Fondamenta dei Mori

For the last two weeks I had attended classes every day alongside Tintoretto’s apprentices, but Yasmeen had remained reserved and distant. We had exchanged pleasantries, but she had avoided any opportunity for a lengthy private discussion and I began to feel we were drifting apart. What kept me going was the look of pain on her face; I could only conclude that she loved me still, but that she believed the obstacles were simply too large to overcome.

Veronica had been as good as her word, and had spoken to Ayham. She confirmed that he had, in principle, withdrawn his absolute rejection of me as a potential son-in-law. But he was still concerned about the future, about my prospects and about the risks to his daughter’s happiness. I decided I must talk to Yasmeen. At the end of the class I confronted her in her office and asked her to walk with me.

‘We cannot go on like this, Yasmeen. I can see it is hurting you and I can tell you that, for me, every day like this is hell.’

She nodded and mumbled something, but she was so withdrawn I could not catch her words. We reached the corner of the Fondamenta dei Mori and stopped. I decided to force the issue.

‘Yasmeen.We must tell each other the truth. I need to know whether, in principle, you might consider marriage to an Englishman if he remained in the Republic – either here or in Padua. This is not a proposal, you understand. You know I am not in a position to do that; I am just asking where you stand.’

She responded coyly, her speech mumbled, as if she did not want the words to come out. ‘It is difficult, Richard. I have commitments – not only to my father, but to Tintoretto, who gave me a chance when most people would not employ a Muslim girl in a position of responsibility, especially with the problems the Republic has with Turkey these days. The threat of war with Turkey has made the position of my people harder this last three years . . .’

I nodded, not wanting to stop her now that she was beginning to talk.

‘I am also worried about my religion. I have thought a great deal about it and I would not be happy to convert to Christianity, or to undertake a Christian wedding. It would be untrue and I don’t believe you would ask it of me.’ She paused, choosing her words carefully.

‘There is, too, the problem of my father. He is suspicious of England, where Muslims and Jews are expelled, and would be afraid for me if I were to live there. I am sorry; I wish it could be as it was in Al Andalus. But my father has explained to me on many occasions now, that is not the world we face.’

She looked up at me with pain in her eyes. ‘Please do not misunderstand my words, Richard. This is hard for me to say.’

Slowly, the nature of the problem began to clarify in my mind. She was using her father as an excuse. No doubt he, as a lonely old man with no one in the world but his beloved daughter, was concerned about losing her. . .

But there was something else. Her father’s fears had been feeding a canker of doubt in her own mind, and in reality, although her father remained a barrier, the real reason she could not convince him was because she had remaining concerns for herself – concerns she still had not admitted to me fully and honestly I could not force her to do so. All I could do was wait.

She paused again, swallowing, and picking at her fingernails. I knew that whatever she wished to say was not coming easily to her. She looked hard at me, then took a deep breath.

‘I have many uncertainties; many of them no doubt fed by my father’s concerns about both my future and his own. Perhaps I have been guilty of using my father’s worries as a cover, as a shield in our conversations. If that is the case, then I apologise, for it has never been my intention to mislead you. The truth is, I also have a nagging fear which lies solely within me. My fear is this, Richard: I do not wish to be diminished by marrying you.’

The words finally came out in a rush, as if she expected me to respond angrily when I heard them. But to me they were entirely logical.

‘I feel exactly the same. The last thing I want is for our marriage to diminish you in any way. Quite the reverse – I want to see you enriched. And I want my love to be the source of that enrichment. I know Venice is better than England in this respect, but even here Muslims are treated with suspicion. Between us, that problem will not exist. You can teach me Arabic and I will understand and respect your culture.’

She looked at me as a prisoner might look at a gaoler, fingering his ring of keys. Dare she hope I was sincere?

I continued. ‘Please remember, Yasmeen, the process works both ways. I too have my religion and feel I must honour it. I cannot give it up any more than you feel able to become a Christian. Nobody can tell either of us what to believe, but what I do believe is this – we can each hold on to our respective faiths in true sincerity and still love and respect each other.’

She looked at me, nodding her agreement but remaining uncertain.

‘It is not you, Richard, it is . . . the uncertainty. There is too much potential difficulty and too much is unclear for me to make a decision for myself, never mind being able to convince my father. Give me time. Give him time. I do love you, but surely you would be the last person to ask me to be untrue to myself. I have too many questions and not enough answers. Surely you understand.’

Her face was as plaintive as her voice, and both made me feel deeply unhappy. Veronica was right. I was being unreasonable, expecting her to take too much on trust, expecting her to join me in a future whose components I had not even yet decided for myself. It would not work. If I was to convince her to marry me, I first had to make my own decisions, and tell her what they were. Only then would she fully understand the opportunities she was being offered and the choices she was being asked to make.

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August the 12th 1556 – Fondamenta della Sensa

I felt relieved. After a night spent tossing and turning, trying desperately to find a route through all the problems which I felt beset me, I had woken early to a clear dawn and with a clear mind. Yes, there were many issues, and yes, they were all interrelated, but someone had to turn some of the uncertainties into certainties by making a decision, and in the cold light of dawn, I realized that someone was me. The starting point was to confirm whether or not the university would accept me as a medical student. If they would, then many of the other uncertainties, including some of those that appeared to be in Ayham’s head, could be addressed. Relieved, I had taken a piece of paper and a pen and written my plan out, no longer as a circular list of problems, but as a simple list of tasks. The first task on the list was to approach the university, and I had asked Thomas to accompany me to Padua to plead my case.

Thomas put the piece of paper back on the table and walked to the window. The day was warming up and already the haze was thickening. It was going to be uncomfortable before the storm broke. Thomas stood by the open window and sniffed the air. Part of him still had farming blood.

‘The problem is that the university will not restart until the harvest is over – near the end of October. In midsummer there are unlikely to be enough men of influence there to get a decision.’

I knew he was right, but the inactivity burned away at me.

‘Think carefully, Richard. Nothing has changed as far as we are concerned. The earl will make a decision by the end of September. In the meantime, you have my commitment that I shall not return to England without speaking to all of my friends in Padua and doing everything I can to secure you a position. Indeed, I have already had most promising preliminary discussions.’ He turned away from the window and faced me, smiling, with slight embarrassment. ‘I had your best interests at heart, Richard, and I was sure you would opt for medicine in the end. Anyway, the long and short of it is that your acceptance there is almost a certainty, and for the purposes of your plan, I think you can assume they will accept you.’

Although feeling slightly manipulated, I was delighted. It was excellent reassurance. But was it enough to base a proposal of marriage on?

‘That’s a difficult one, Richard. I could not be more sure myself, but to base a marriage proposal on my word? Only you can decide that.’

For a few moments our conversation fell flat, but soon we were chatting fluently again, and Thomas began to speak of his plans for his own future.

‘It is by no means clear where Courtenay will go next. Return to England for him is now clearly impossible, and he knows it. I myself might pause briefly for some further education in Padua, but in my mind I am committed to being back at home before the Christmas season commences.’

I put a hand on his shoulder. ‘I am glad you have made such a decision. This must have been a long year for your dear Dorothy. She will be so pleased to see you.’

Thomas nodded. ‘You are right. It has not been such a difficult decision for me, having a wife and two children awaiting me at home. In recent weeks I have missed them especially. And although I have been able to help the poor with the measles outbreak here, I am increasingly reminded that I have patients at home who need me just as badly.’

He turned suddenly, knocking my arm away. ‘Have you heard, by the way? The latest news from England is that the plague is spreading westward along the coastal ports.’

I shook my head. ‘We have weathered such storms before in our part of Devon.’

He nodded, seeming far away, and I knew he was thinking of his family. ‘I hope you are right, Richard. I hope you are right. But you never know what life holds in store, and if you delay, who knows?’

He paused, looking wistfully out of the window, and I knew in his mind he was already preparing for the long journey home. The first crack of lightning ripped across the sky and he jumped back, startled, then looked at me as if re-energized. His eyes had regained their focus.

‘I have changed my mind, Richard. I will go to Padua, seek out those who are there, and do my best to ensure that your place is guaranteed. You are sure it’s what you want?’

I nodded and shook his hand. ‘I am sure, Thomas, and thank you.’

He smiled as lightning once again lit the sky. ‘Then I shall leave tomorrow, as soon as this storm blows out.’

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