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Authors: Flora Speer

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“I agree with this theory, Andrea,”
Bartolomeo said. “It fits with what I know of Stregone and of the
devious methods of the Guidi.”

“Don’t you turn against me, too, Bartolomeo,”
Eleonora cried.

“We are not against you,” Francesco told her.
“We all want the same thing, the end of Niccolo Stregone, the
restoration of the rightful rulers of Monteferro and Aullia, and
peace between the two cities. It seems to me that we ought to be
able to reach an agreement rather quickly.”

“You expect me to agree with the sons of
Federigo Sotani?” Eleonora cried, staring at Francesco. “Are you
mad?”

“Admit what is obvious to every man here,
Madonna Eleonora,” Andrea said. “You are checkmated. While you used
me as your weapon to take back Monteferro, I was using you to take
back Aullia for myself. Since my father’s death, I am the rightful
duke.”

“I will admit no such thing,” Eleonora said,
drawing herself up with great dignity. “Nor will I reach any
agreement with men who manipulate me, who lie to me and cheat me.
Andrea, Vanni, Francesco, all three of you are to leave Villa
Serenita at dawn tomorrow. Bartolomeo, if you are in accord with
these schemers, you may leave, too. You men may not believe a woman
is capable of ruling a city in her own behalf, but I tell you,
unreliable creatures that you are, that I was once a full partner
with Girolamo Farisi in ruling Monteferro!”

“If that is so, madonna,” said Vanni, most
unwisely, “then I am surprised you did not know that he and my
father were never murderous enemies.”

Eleonora’s only response to this remark was a
look that should have scorched poor Vanni into cinders.

“I know how to manage my own lands here,”
Eleonora went on with no diminution in passion and as if Vanni had
not spoken at all. “I will give the orders to the men-at-arms, I
will see to the fields and the harvest. If need be, I will gird on
a sword and fight Niccolo Stregone hand-to-hand if he threatens me
or my daughters!

“As for you,” Eleonora exclaimed, leaning
forward again until she was almost nose to nose with the still
sitting Andrea, “as for you, I rue the winter night when I admitted
a bear to my house!

“You have not defeated me, Andrea.” Eleonora
straightened to put an arm around each of her daughters. “Do not
underestimate me.”

“That I would never do, madonna,” Andrea
said.

“You are to be gone by first light. If you
are not, I will set the men-at-arms on you.” With that threat,
Eleonora swept from the terrace into the sitting room, taking her
daughters with her.

After pausing only to exchange a few
whispered words with her husband, Valeria followed the other women
into the house, leaving the men alone.

“A woman of fire and passion,” mused
Francesco, looking after Eleonora.

“A woman of great determination,” Bartolomeo
said, “as my wife and I have cause to know.”

“I do believe the late Duke of Monteferro
must have been a happy man.” Francesco’s gray-blue eyes were
twinkling.

“Happy for the most part,” Bartolomeo agreed,
adding with the hint of a smile, “but sometimes he was
bedeviled.”

“Well, Andrea, prince of schemers.” Francesco
turned to his young friend. “What say you, now that my military
advice and the knowledge of your full name have together raised a
storm of emotion among the ladies? Shall we take Aullia first as I
suggested? Or is it to be Monteferro as Madonna Eleonora
wants?”

“Both,” said Andrea.

“What?” Francesco gave a hearty laugh. “Now,
there’s a fine madness for you. Though, knowing you as I do, I am
sure you have good reasons for whatever you plan.”

“The army I have raised is large enough to
divide into two parts,” Andrea said. “However, I believe a bit of
trickery will win us more than the use of brute force. The people I
have talked to, most of them friends of Luca Nardi, all claim
Monteferro is ripe for revolt and that Aullia is in a state of
perpetual unrest since the Guidi took it. Francesco, your contacts
inside the Aullian army will be a great help to us if they make the
situation in Aullia worse for the Guidi.”

“And is this reason enough to attack both
cities at once?” asked Bartolomeo, looking from Andrea to Francesco
as if he found this new idea difficult to comprehend.

“If we attack one city,” Andrea said, “we
will give Stregone warning of our intentions and thus provide a
chance for him to escape. By taking both cities at the same time,
we can trap him wherever he is and capture him.”

“Perhaps, after you have him, you can wring
the truth of Girolamo Farisi’s death out of the wicked creature,”
Bartolomeo suggested. “That murder has haunted Madonna Eleonora and
her daughters for too long.”

“A confession from Stregone that the Duke of
Aullia had nothing to do with her husband’s assassination would do
much to soften Madonna Eleonora toward these two young men,”
Francesco agreed. “Which, in turn, would facilitate their marriages
to the ladies their hearts desire.”

“How I wish I could be a part of your
campaign,” Bartolomeo said with a sigh for the masculine, military
pleasures he would be missing. “But my place is here, where I have
been for fifteen years. I cannot leave Madonna Eleonora.”

“From what I have seen of the women of Villa
Sera this evening,” said Francesco with a chuckle, “Madonna
Eleonora and her daughters together would very likely have your
head if you proposed to leave them, and your wife would sweep up
your remains after they were finished.”

The men shared a laugh at the
incomprehensible ways of women. Then they refilled the wine glasses
before they drew together around the table to talk of military
matters until the candles guttered out and left them in
darkness.

Chapter 17

 

 

“Liars! Wicked schemers!” Still furious with
the men an hour after leaving them on the terrace, Eleonora paced
back and forth in her private suite of rooms. “There must be a way
for me to circumvent their plans.”

“Why would you want to do so?” Valeria asked.
“My dear friend, Andrea intends to carry out the very same scheme
that you devised.”

“Not my scheme.” Eleonora halted, whirling to
face Valeria. “His scheme, modified, changed against my wishes,
into what Andrea wants. Don’t you desert me, too, Valeria.”

“You know I never would. Haven’t I been with
you for all these years? Nor will Bartolomeo leave you.”


Do not
try to convince me of that, not when he is below, conferring with
those two spawn of the Sotani line and their
condottiere
friend.”

“When he has finished conferring with them,
Bartolomeo will know everything the others are planning,” Valeria
said with serene reasonableness. “You may be certain he will tell
you what those plans are.”


Bartolomeo will know only what Andrea and Francesco want
him to know. Hah! Francesco! That man.” Eleonora bit off the
condottiere’s
name as if
the very word hurt her mouth. She resumed her pacing. When she
spoke again there was a distinct note of regret in her voice.
“After so many years, I had almost begun to believe that I might
dare to care.... What are you girls doing, standing by the
door?”

“Mother,” Bianca said in a quavering voice,
“there will be violence done when Andrea and Vanni take Monteferro
and Aullia. There will be bloodshed, and people hurting each
other.”

“Of course there will,” Eleonora said.
“Warfare cannot be conducted without violence.”

“I can’t bear the thought of Vanni or Andrea
being wounded or killed. Mother, can’t you stop it now, before it
starts?”

“Bianca, this plan was originally intended to
restore your birthright to you,” Eleonora declared. “To achieve
that goal, a certain amount of violence was acceptable to me.
However, the plan has been taken out of my hands, and nothing I can
do or say will deflect those men from their intentions. You heard
them with your own ears.”

“I don’t care about my birthright,” Bianca
cried. “I don’t want anyone killed for my sake, and I don’t
particularly want to be a duchess. I would be content to live here
at Villa Serenita always, if only Vanni could be with me.”

“How long do you think an ambitious man like
Vanni would be content with our reclusive way of life?” Eleonora
demanded.


Mother,
please.” Rosalinda put a protective arm around her sister. “Can’t
you see how upset Bianca is? She has found a man she loves and
now—”

“What has love to do with a noble marriage?”
Eleonora interrupted, her voice rising in anger.

“You loved our father,” Bianca cried.

“An affection which grew slowly, after we
were married for a while, after I knew him well enough to
appreciate the kind of man he was,” Eleonora said. “My marriage was
arranged by my father. I had nothing to say about the choice of my
husband.”

“Well, I do want something to say about whom
I marry.”

Bianca’s defiance startled her mother, who
stared at her for a moment before responding. When she spoke, it
was plain that Eleonora was doing her best to control her feelings,
but the undercurrent of rage over alterations in her plans that she
was powerless to prevent, and her belief that she had been
deliberately used and misled, were all there in her voice.

“My daughters will marry when, and whom, I
decide they will marry,” Eleonora said. “Do not think you can
thwart my decision on this. I forbid you to see either of those
young men, or Francesco, before they leave tomorrow morning. Nor
will I allow you to receive letters from any of them. Valeria, I
expect you and Bartolomeo to stand with me on this. See that my
wishes are carried out.”

“You know I will,” Valeria said.


Mother,
you are being cruel!” Rosalinda cried. She was deeply disturbed by
her parent’s attitude, yet she understood why Eleonora was so angry
and so adamant. Torn between wanting to calm her mother and wanting
to soften Bianca’s distress, she could not think about her own
situation. Consideration of what she would do in the future would
have to come later. “Perhaps if you would relent enough to let
Bianca see Vanni, so she can say a final farewell to him, she would
not be quite so unhappy.”

“I thought both of you had renounced those
wicked men,” Eleonora said. “You did refuse to marry them. Have you
changed your minds so quickly?”

“No,” Bianca admitted with a sob, “but I
can’t stop wanting Vanni.”

“You will have to learn to stop,” said her
mother. “A woman can learn to do anything if she puts her mind to
it. I have learned to accept events that, when I was your age, I
could not believe it was possible to survive. Yet I did survive,
just as I will find a way to use this evening’s betrayal, to turn
it around until I have achieved what I set out to do last winter
when Bartolomeo first recruited Andrea to our purpose.”

“Rosalinda,” said Valeria, “why don’t you
take Bianca to her room and stay with her for a while, until she
recovers from her distress?”

“I will never recover from this evening,”
Bianca said.

“Oh, do as Valeria says,” Eleonora ordered,
sounding thoroughly exasperated. “I cannot think with you weeping
and sighing, Bianca, nor with Rosalinda looking as if the world has
collapsed around her. Just see that you do not attempt to rejoin
your would-be lovers, for if you do, I will know of it and you will
be severely punished.”

“Go on, girls,” Valeria urged in a gentler
voice. “Your mother won’t be alone. I will be here as long as she
wants my company.”

“Come, Bianca.” Rosalinda led her sister out
the door and down the corridor to her room. Bianca’s bedroom was
draped in rosy silk, with many cushions scattered about. It was
very different from Rosalinda’s simpler room, which was blue and
white. After pushing aside the billowing folds of pink silk bed
hangings, Rosalinda shoved several pillows out of the way so she
and Bianca could sit together. Bianca collapsed on Rosalinda’s
shoulder, her tears drenching Rosalinda’s gown.

“I was so happy today,” Bianca sobbed.

“So was I,” Rosalinda whispered, thinking of
tall fir trees, a sunlit meadow, and Andrea’s hot, stirring kisses.
Regret for what she had lost stabbed through her.

“Until this quarrel erupted.” Bianca gulped
back another sob.

“It is far more than a quarrel, Bianca.”

“I know it is. Rosalinda, my heart is
breaking in two. How can I love a man whose father killed my
father? How can I want to be in Vanni’s arms, or fear for him when
he goes into battle? But I do! Oh, I do! If Vanni dies at
Monteferro, I will want to die, too. Oh, I am more wicked than I
ever dreamed I could be! This love I feel for Vanni is far more
reprehensible than embracing him when I thought he was Andrea.”

“Our mother would say it is.” Rosalinda held
her sister tighter.

“What of you?” Bianca asked. “Now that we
know everything, do you still want Andrea?”

“I don’t know what I want,” Rosalinda said.
“I only know I am in great pain.”

“But you are not crying. You are so brave.”
Bianca sighed. “I wish I had half your courage.”

“Take off your dress and I’ll put you to
bed,” Rosalinda offered, to prevent Bianca from asking any more
questions.

“I am sure I won’t sleep.” Nevertheless,
Bianca began to pull at the laces of her dress. Rosalinda helped
her sister to remove her clothes and then tucked her beneath the
rose-colored counterpane.

“You are so good to me.” Bianca tried to
smile through her continuing tears. “I do not know why you should
be so kind to me when I am so wicked.”

“You are not wicked, only foolish sometimes.”
Rosalinda sat on the bed and took her sister’s hand. “If I am kind,
it’s because you are my sister and I love you in spite of any
differences between us. And because I know we are all capable of
great foolishness.”

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