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Authors: Bertrice Small

Tags: #Historical Romance, #Love Story, #Romance, #Italy, #England, #Medieval Romance

Lucianna (20 page)

BOOK: Lucianna
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“And did you learn the identity of that man, Luca?”

“Not yet,” he admitted.

“Not ever!” she almost shouted at him. “You will go home to Florence, Luca Pietro d’Angelo. We will arrange passage for you as quickly as we can. Your behavior will not tarnish our family, Florence, or the Mintons. But first, you will be taken to King Henry, and you will tell him exactly what you know, Luca Pietro d’Angelo. You will admit your foolishness. You will admit everything. You will beg his pardon. I can only hope that my husband’s long friendship with this king will not be damaged by what you have done.”

“How did you learn of this?” Luca wanted to know. He glanced towards the rear of the shop. “Baram Kira told you, didn’t he? How eager the Jew is to have control of this shop,” he snarled.

“Baram Kira?” Lucianna feigned surprise, and then said with complete honesty, “No, Baram Kira did not expose you to us, Luca Pietro d’Angelo. Do you think my husband is not without resources? That he has no friends looking after his interests? How we learned of your stupidity is not important. Roberto is waiting for you outside. He will accompany you to the king, where you will confess your well-meaning foolishness to him, and beg for his forgiveness.”

“I have done nothing wrong,” Luca said stubbornly. “I have only attempted to unmask a plot against this king. Had I been successful, your husband’s loyalty would have been even more appreciated.”

“Henry Tudor is a suspicious man by nature, and by virtue of the life he has endured along the road to his kingship,” Lucianna told her brother. She could see that Luca was beginning to realize the seriousness of his actions. “There are very few, if any, in whom he confides. The only person in the world he trusts completely is his mother, Lady Margaret. His wife, whom my husband tells me the king has come to love, does not enjoy that level of his confidence.

“The king’s confidence in Roberto is based on his complete honesty. His ability to not take sides in any matter where factions quarrel among themselves. My husband has always spoken the truth to the king, and there have been times when the truth was not what the king wanted to hear, but he listened because it was Roberto speaking to him, not someone attempting to gain his way or curry favor with the king. You will now have jeopardized that trust, Luca. Go now. Roberto awaits you outside. You will ride my horse. You will not return to this shop again.

“If the king does not clap you in the Tower, you will depart England as quickly as we can arrange it. You will carry a letter to our father from me. I will not expose your stupidity to him, Brother, for we have always kept each other’s secrets. I will tell him since Baram Kira is more than capable of managing the shop, you decided to return home as quickly as possible to be of help to our father, and learn from him what I could not teach you,” Lucianna told him.

He did not argue with her. As she had scolded him, Luca Pietro d’Angelo was suddenly made fully aware of his own ignorance of English politics. Well, he couldn’t say that Baram Kira hadn’t warned him. The Jew had probably gone directly to his banker cousin, and it had been David Kira who had written to his brother-in-law, exposing him for a fool. Raising his sister’s hand to his lips, he kissed it.

“Signora la contessa,”
he said, and then turning, departed the silk shop.

As soon as the door closed behind him, Baram Kira came from the back room. “I have sorted the new silks by color, madame,” he said politely.

She knew he had heard every word spoken between the siblings. But she wondered how well he understood the Italian language, for she had upbraided her twin in their native tongue as it was easier for her to say what she must to him, and Luca had responded in kind. She did not ask her assistant, however, for it really didn’t matter.

“My brother will not be returning to this shop, Master Kira,” she said. “You will be responsible for it now. I cannot, given my rank, engage in my father’s trade any longer, but you are free to correspond with me should you need my advice or further guidance. Please accept my thanks and those of my husband for advising us of my brother’s well-meaning, but unwise, actions. I know it is you who spoke with David Kira, who wrote to notify us.”

“I hope Master Luca will not be imprisoned,” Baram said. “That was not my intention, my lady.”

“A brief stay in a dank cell might do him some good, although I doubt it. Nay, I imagine the king will agree with my husband that Luca meant no harm, but now there will always be a small worm of distrust for us in the king’s heart. I am sorry that my kinsman will be responsible for it,” Lucianna said regretfully. “I know that I can rely upon your discretion, Master Kira. We will not speak of this again.”

Baram Kira bowed. “I will endeavor to do my best for you, my lady,” he promised her.

“I will return now to my house,” Lucianna told him.

“You will walk?” She had always had a litter or had ridden her horse.

Lucianna laughed. “I am capable of walking home, Baram. Please tell his lordship when he returns. The day is fair, and the streets busy.”

He bowed again. “I will thank you then, my lady, and bid you a good day,” the new shopkeeper said.

“Good day, Master Kira,” she answered, and departed the silk shop. The day was pleasant and warm. Lucianna walked quickly, aware of everything and everyone about her. The garments she wore were not lavish, and she attracted no undue attention. Soon the busy streets were left behind for the quieter paths, but the now-empty way left her nervous. She was relieved to reach her house, where the door opened to her knock.

“My lady!” Cleva, the young housekeeper, was surprised to see her. She quickly curtsied and stepped aside. “We did not know you were in London, my lady.”

“The earl had a matter of urgent business, and I came with him. Of course I went to the shop first,” Lucianna explained, smiling. She had elevated Cleva’s status before leaving London to visit Wye Court.

“May I ask how long you are staying?” Cleva said. “I must tell Alvina in the kitchens. Preparing meals for only Master Pietro d’Angelo does not require as much food, but with two hungry men in the house, Bessie will have to be sent immediately to market, my lady.”

“I am not certain, a few days, no more,” Lucianna said. “I did not even bring Balia.” She smiled at Cleva. “I will retire to my room to rest now, for the earl would travel quickly.”

“Of course, my lady.”

Cleva hurried off to speak with Alvina, the cook, while Lucianna climbed the stairs to her old bedchamber. Fortunately, there had been no damage. Surely the king would forgive Luca. His actions, misguided as they were, had caused no real harm. The king would see the conspirators rounded up and imprisoned. And his jailors would have their own means of learning the identity of the man behind the plot. Her husband’s reputation with Henry Tudor could be salvaged.

She wondered if he and Luca would be admitted to the king’s presence today, or if it would take several days to see him.

As he rode through London, Robert Minton was beginning to consider the same thing. Men, even close friends, could not simply appear upon the royal doorstep for a visit. He thought that perhaps he would be wiser to seek Lady Margaret’s advice in this uncomfortable matter of his brother-in-law.

“This is not the way to the king’s residence,” Luca said to him.

And Robert Minton suddenly realized he had directed his horse’s steps towards Lady Margaret Beaufort’s home. “Nay, it isn’t. I must speak with the king’s mother first in this matter. She will advise me on how to approach the king and inform him of your actions, without getting you clapped in the Tower, although if stupidity were a crime, you would be charged,” the earl said irritably.

“I only meant to help you,” Luca muttered sullenly, but he turned away from his brother-in-law, for the look Robert Minton gave him sent a chill through him. He suspected if his sister were not this man’s wife, there would be no mercy shown him by the Earl of Lisle.

Upon reaching the home of the king’s mother, they were greeted cordially by the lady’s majordomo, who always traveled with his mistress and saw to her comforts. “My lord, sir, please come in. You were not expected.”

“Is it possible that Lady Margaret can make time for us?” the earl inquired politely, his tone implying that if she could not, they would gladly return when she could.

But the queen mother’s trusted servant knew two things: Robert Minton was a great favorite of his lady, and the earl would not be here unannounced without good cause. He bowed to her guests. “I will tell her you are here, my lord,” he said, and turning, hurried off.

They waited, Luca growing more nervous by the moment. He dreaded the king’s mother learning of his foolishness. It was no secret that she was very protective of her son and had played an important part in seeing him made king. What would she think of what Luca had done, even if his intentions had been good?

The majordomo returned. “Her ladyship will see you, my lord,” he said, directing his words to the earl.

“Come!” Robert Minton ordered his brother-in-law.

Lady Margaret was awaiting him in her privy chamber, surrounded by her ladies. “Robert!” she said, her usually stern face lighting with a smile. “What are you doing in London? And Master Pietro d’Angelo, it is good to see you again.”

Both men bowed politely to the king’s mother.

Bending to kiss her cheek, the earl whispered in the lady’s ear, “If you would, dear madame, send your ladies away, for what we have come to say must not become open knowledge.”

Luca stood quietly. Several of the queen mother’s ladies were young and pretty. Normally he would have flirted with them. Today he did not dare to do so.

“Ladies,” the king’s mother said, “I would be alone with my guests. The day is fair. I would suggest a walk in my gardens. When I wish your presence, I will call you back.”

The women and girls all rose from their places, curtsied to their mistress, and left the privy chamber. One directed a smile at the earl as they went. He nodded politely, although not with great interest.

“That is Catherine Talcott,” Lady Margaret said, “the girl I considered for you before you met your Lucianna. Now, my lord, what is it you wish to tell me that requires such privacy?”

“My brother-in-law has, without meaning to, involved himself in a plot, madame.”

“A plot?” Instantly, Lady Margaret was fully alert.

“He was approached by several men at a local inn he frequents,” the earl began. “They claim they seek to gain the release of Clarence’s son from the Tower.”

Lady Margaret’s face darkened. “Will these people never cease in their attempts to destabilize the country?” she asked of no one in particular. Then she looked at Luca. “They sought your aid? Why?”

“They knew I had been a soldier, my lady,” Luca said. Then he rushed on to say, “I meant no treason! I only sought to learn the identity of those behind such a nefarious scheme.”

“And have you?” Lady Margaret queried him sharply.

“Alas, no, madame, I have not, but it is not for lack of trying,” Luca told her. “When the earl learned of my involvement, he hurried to London with my sister to insist I go to the king and warn him.” Luca realized that for the first time since he was a boy, he was truly frightened. The king’s mother was a powerful woman, and this was her son of whom they spoke. He knew how his mother would react should anyone dare to threaten one of her children with bodily harm.

“I thought it best to come to you first, madame,” the earl broke in, “and solicit your advice in this matter. I will see that Luca is sent home to Florence immediately if the king will forgive him his stupidity.”

“Nay,” Lady Margaret said, surprising them both. “He must continue to involve himself with this plot, but you will keep me informed at all times of what these traitors are doing,” she said, piercing the young man with a hard look. “I will, with your help, Luca Pietro d’Angelo, put an end to this sort of treason once and for all. Henry cannot be constantly besieged within his own realm. The Earl of Kildare in Ireland has welcomed a pretender to England’s throne who cries to all who will listen that he is Clarence’s son.” She sniffed derisively. “And it is said there are no snakes in Ireland.”

“But Clarence’s son, the Earl of Warwick, is in the Tower,” Robert Minton said incredulously. “I thought all knew that.”

“Well,” Lady Margaret said dryly, “whether the Irish do or not, they will be crowning this fellow in Dublin, we have been informed. Sooner or later this summer, there will be an invasion. We do not need the true Edward, Earl of Warwick, escaping the Tower and racing about the countryside, causing havoc at the same time as well.” She turned and looked at the earl. “I think it best we keep this from my son for now, Robert. I see no need for him to worry further. Master Pietro d’Angelo will continue to attempt to learn the perpetrator of this latest plot so we may end it before it gets out of control.”

“Is this wise, madame?” He had never questioned a decision of hers before.

“Probably not, Rob, but if Luca simply disappears, his fellow conspirators will grow nervous, and heaven knows what they will do.

“We need to know where this comes from. At least with this pretender in Ireland, we know who he really is, and who is behind him. He will prove troublesome, it is true, but we will prevail.”

“Who is he?” the earl asked, curious. Until she had spoken of it, he hadn’t heard of a pretender, but then he had been in the country on his estates, trying to enjoy his new wife’s company.

“His name is Lambert Simnel. He was born in Oxford. His sire is a shoemaker or a baker or some such. You know Oxford is the home of lost causes, and a traitorous priest named Symonds conceived this particular plot. The boy, Simnel, is well favored, and even has the look of York about him. He was sent to Ireland shortly before we arrested the priest, but of course Margaret, Dowager Duchess of Burgundy, and sister of the late kings Edward and Richard, as well as to Duke Clarence, supports this pretension. She is such a bitter woman. She will send troops to help this pretender, for she hates my son for defeating her brother,” the king’s mother explained. “Still, that must not concern you. I am interested in learning who is behind this plot that your brother-in-law is involved in, Rob.”

BOOK: Lucianna
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