Francesca (23 page)

“Yes, you would be useful, but these men are dangerous, my love. I do not want you falling victim to them as Aceline may have,” the young duke told his wife.

“Aceline’s train was small, with not many men-at-arms to protect her. We will travel with a great group of soldiers, for if these bandits have dug themselves in to the mountains above the High Road you will need a strong force to root them out. I will remain safely under guard at the inn of the innkeeper who sent the complaint.”

“No, you will stay here,” he told her, but before she might complain he continued, “If I find the serving woman I will send for you to come, for if I return her here and she sees Aceline or her father she will be intimidated. If she is to speak freely without torture it must be in a place in which she feels safe,” Rafaello said to his wife. “You will oversee the return of Aceline and her child to her father’s house.”

“The woman has been rendered mad by whatever happened,” Francesca said. “I would speak to her father and suggest that Aceline be placed in a convent to be cared for by the nuns. A convent is a safe environment for a madwoman. She can raise her son in peace, preparing him for the church when he is older. The French are not as liberal about bastards as we Florentines, Milanese, Venetians, Romans, and others in our land. Our families consider such children useful. Daughters can be used for marriage alliances, and sons for the church and the military. The wife of an important man can have just so many children. His mistresses give him others.”

“So,” he answered her, “if I took a mistress you would be content that I gave such a woman children?”

“You are not important enough to have children other than by me,” she told him sweetly.

“Not important enough? I am the duke of Terreno Boscoso,” he reminded her.

“We are a tiny duchy edged by the Swiss Confederation and France, and obviously carved out of a tiny scrap of what was once Savoy,” she told him. “I am competent to read a map, my lord. We could be absorbed by any of these if they chose to attack. You will have to be content with your wife alone, I fear, my lord.”

He wanted to be offended, perhaps even angry, but there was nothing that Francesca had said that wasn’t true. Still . . . “Yet you married me,” he remarked.

“My
madre
loved the idea she would have a daughter who was a
duchessa
. She does not recognize Bianca’s marriage to Prince Amir, which made her eldest daughter a princess. Besides, my sister is not known as Bianca now. She is said to be called Azura, or so my brother, Marco, told us, for he was allowed once to visit her. So having me become a
duchessa
was pleasing to Orianna Pietro d’Angelo.”

“I might not have chosen you,” he reminded her.

“What choice did you have?” she said, laughing. “Louisa was in love with Valiant, and Aceline was an ill-tempered bitch.”

“I might have had my father send you all home,” he told her. “I might have requested three more respectable virgins be brought to Terreno Boscoso. Or I might have gone and visited other houses in Milan and Florence who had marriageable daughters.”

“Hah!” Francesca responded scornfully. “You fell in love with me, and no other would do.”

“But you were not in love with me,” he reminded her. “Instead you ran off into the forest and developed a
tendre
for a rough huntsman. I am surprised you returned.”

“I came back for my servants,” she said. “If I was going home I was not going to abandon them. And the moment I reached the main road I was told you were to be wed to another, husband.”

“Another? Who said anything about another woman? You assumed it,” he replied.

“What was I to think?” she demanded of him. “Every citizen in Terreno Boscoso was on the road for the castle to see you married. How was I to know you were marrying me and not some other? I did not know you knew where I was all along and meant to bring me back.”

He laughed. “You said yourself that I loved you. Since I declared it not, how could you understand that I did?” he asked her.

“I knew by the way you looked at me,” she told him. “Besides, a man not in love would not have gone searching for me or waited for me, or planned a wedding for me.”

“These are matters we have never before discussed, my love, but it has taken us away from the problems we have. Bandits on the High Road. I like your idea of a convent for Aceline and her child. I am certain the comte can find one.”

The Comte du Barry, while approving of the young
duchessa
’s idea to place his mad daughter in a convent, had no knowledge of one, for his own home was so isolated.

“If you would consider placing her far from you, there is a convent outside of Florence where my mother’s kinswoman is in charge.
Madre
Baptista is kind but firm. Two of her younger nuns accompanied me when I first came to Terreno Boscoso,” Francesca said to him. “Santa Maria del Fiore is a good place. My own sister stayed there once for a short visit. It is peaceful, and beautiful. If your grandson is meant for the church it is far nearer Rome and the church’s power than your home. The boy might even be educated in Rome, my lord.”

“It is a long way away,” the comte considered, “and yet perhaps it would be better if Aceline and her child were not near us. I must think on this.”

“If she left from here the journey would be shorter,” Francesca said. “If you would like to accompany your daughter I would send a letter with you. Of course, you will have to forfeit Aceline’s dower portion to the convent for her care.”

“Of course,” the comte said, wondering if he might stint a bit on the amount and save himself a coin or two. Then he thought better of his parsimony. Better he be generous, for taking in a madwoman and her infant would not be an easy thing for the nuns, no matter how kind and competent they were. Having survived childbirth, and with a future that would not allow for more babies, Aceline was apt to live a long time, as did his grandmother’s maiden sister, who had lived to the unheard-of age of eighty-four. “I think I must thank you for your kindness, my lady
duchessa
. My daughter is not deserving of it. Had your positions been reversed I doubt Aceline would have been as generous towards you,” the comte said truthfully. “Yes, I need no more consideration of the matter. I shall take my daughter and her child to the convent of Santa Maria del Fiore outside of Florence. It is the best solution.”

“And we will find the maidservant and ascertain the truth of what happened,” Rafaello said. “Stop on your way back, and perhaps then we shall have the answers you need to know.”

Several days later the Comte du Barry departed Terreno Boscoso with his daughter, her son, and servants, for Florence. The roads south were safer, and his party of men-at-arms would suffice. The young duke and his wife were relieved to see them go. Now they would turn to the business of ridding the High Road of the bandits troubling it.

Although Francesca was not pleased to be left behind, she had her husband’s word that he would send for her when he had found the missing serving woman.

“You and my father will rule in my absence,” Rafaello told her before he rode out surrounded by at least one hundred men-at-arms. Bandits in the region were not good for anyone. Eventually they would move farther south down the High Road until they were at the very gates of Terreno Boscoso. That could not be allowed to happen.

“Be careful,” Francesca said, not knowing what else to say to Rafaello as she looked up at him upon his horse. “Keep warm.” These were things her mother said to her father and brothers when they went off.

He laughed at her obvious distress at not knowing exactly what to say. “I will,” he promised her. “It will not take long to rout these fellows, my love.”

But he quickly found it was not as easy as he had thought it to be. The bandits had obviously been victimizing the High Road for more than a year, but until the innkeeper had complained everyone else living in that area had been too afraid to speak up. Rafaello introduced himself to the innkeeper and made the establishment his headquarters while he and his men sought out the bandits’ hideaway. Once he discovered it, he would kill them all. Driving them into another place would be no favor to the residents of that area. Several weeks passed as the young duke and his men played cat and mouse with the bandits.

Francesca was fretful with her husband’s absence, and her father-in-law suggested one day that she go into the little town below the castle.

“We do not cloister our womenfolk,” he explained to her. “As long as Terza or another servant accompanies you it will be fine.”

“I have never walked about a town,” Francesca admitted to the old gentleman. “In Florence the only women on the streets were servants or those not considered respectable. Now and again my parents would be invited to someone’s house, and my mother would travel in a closed litter or sedan chair. Once or twice I was invited with them to the di Medici palazzo, which is quite grand, but only because Lorenzo wanted to help my parents find a husband for me, and I was on display.”

“Visit the open-air market in the town,” Titus Cesare suggested to her. “Our people will be delighted to see you. Take a purse with you so you may purchase anything that catches your eye.”

Francesca had never gone out on her own. An exciting adventure lay ahead.

Finding Terza, she told her what the old duke had suggested.

“Oh, can I come too?” Roza asked. “My aunt sells the soaps she makes in the market. She lives on a farm just outside of the town.”

“Of course,” Francesca agreed.

“Notify the captain of the guard,” Terza told Roza. “We will need two men-at-arms to accompany us.”

“Is that necessary?” Francesca wanted to know.

“It is expected of you,” Terza said. “You are the
duchessa
.”

The three women walked from the castle courtyard and across the drawbridge, then down the hillside into the small town. People passing them once they were in the street bowed or curtsied when they saw their
duchessa
. She acknowledged them with a smile. Francesca couldn’t stop looking about her. She had ridden through the town on horseback, but it was entirely different on foot. The neat houses were pleasing to the eye, with their window boxes filled with bright summer flowers.

Reaching the market, she was delighted by all the stalls and colorful awnings beneath which farmers and small merchants without shops sold their goods. There was fresh farm produce from the outlying farms. Fruits, vegetables, and newly slaughtered meats hanging from metal hooks for the purchaser to inspect and buy. Roza’s aunt greeted them warmly, delighted that her niece had come with her mistress. To have the custom of the
duchessa
would only be good for her business.

Francesca bought several bars of the woman’s soaps in both rose and lily fragrances. “If you do not do bath oils to match these scents you really should,” she suggested. “Do you think there would be a market for them?”

“For ladies, yes, I believe so,” the farmer’s wife said. “It is not a large market, but it is there. My husband thinks such little luxuries are foolish, but he is wrong. The serving girls often save up their coin so they may purchase a single bar of soap from me. I have saved quite a bit with my little business.”

Francesca was delighted with her purchases, handing them to one of the men-at-arms to carry. As she turned to do so her eye caught that of a woman selling eggs. “Terza!” she said urgently. “Look over there! The egg seller! Is that not Oriel?”

Both Terza and Roza looked at where their mistress indicated. “Yes!” they chorused. “It is! She has seen us, my lady, and is trying to leave.”

Francesca turned to one of the men-at-arms. “Fetch that egg seller to me,” she told him, and pointed. “Do not let her get away!”

“At once, my lady,” he replied, and pushing through the crowded market sought his quarry.

Oriel saw him coming and attempted to evade the soldier, but he was quicker than the woman. His big hand closed about her arms. “Just a minute there, woman. The
duchessa
wishes to speak to you.” And he half dragged her over to where Francesca stood with the other women. “Here she is, my lady,” the man-at-arms said.

Oriel looked terrified. “What do you want of me?” she managed to say.

Francesca replied, “I mean you no harm, Oriel, but you will come back to the castle with me now.”

“I can’t leave my stall!” Oriel protested. “My master will beat me if I do not sell all his eggs. Please, my lady, please!”

“Find the egg farmer,” the
duchessa
instructed the soldier who had Oriel’s arm. She handed him a coin. “Tell him that is for all his eggs, and bring them with you for the cook. And tell him that the
duchessa
has taken his servant with her to the castle. She will be returned shortly.”

The man-at-arms went off to do his mistress’s bidding, while his companion escorted the four women back through the town and up the hill to the castle. Once they were settled in the dayroom of Francesca’s apartment and Oriel had been given a small taste of wine to calm her, Francesca began her questioning.

“How is it you came to be the servant of an egg farmer?” she asked Oriel. “You are a trained lady’s maid.”

“My mistress gave me a choice. Either go, or remain and she would kill me, for she said she could no longer trust me,” Oriel said.

Francesca nodded. “At least the Frenchwoman remembered your past loyal service,” she noted. “Now tell me, Oriel, what happened after you departed the castle last September? Why did you and your mistress not return home until seven months later? It is a brief journey from Terreno Boscoso to the Comte du Barry’s home.”

Oriel looked unhappy at the question.

“You must tell me,” Francesca said. “Your mistress came with her father and attempted to convince us that her child was my husband’s child. It is not so.”

“She is mad,” Oriel said. “What happened drove her mad.”

“You need to tell me what happened, Oriel,” Francesca insisted.

“Where is she now?” the former maidservant asked, nervously looking about her.