Francesca (22 page)

“If it is ducal business, my dear father,” Francesca surprised both her husband and father-in-law by saying, “then I believe as
duchessa
of this little territory I should know what is happening. Especially as I shall eventually mother the heir to Terreno Boscoso.”

Rafaello’s first instinct was to send her from the chamber, as he knew his father would if he were still the duke. Wives, he had been taught, were to be protected from any unpleasantness. A quick look at Francesca, however, changed his mind. She was his
duchessa
. If she were kept in blissful ignorance she would be unfit to rule if he grew ill or found himself away for some reason. How could she protect the children they would have if she didn’t know what was going on in their small world? “Francesca will remain, Father,” he told his parent. “There could come a day when I need her to speak for me. She cannot protect Terreno Boscoso or its people or our children if she is kept in ignorance. She cannot just be my wife, or the mother of our children. She is my
duchessa
, and as such her position must be reasonably equal to my duke.”

“It is a modern concept, my son,” Lord Titus replied.

“There have been women who have ruled, my lord father,” Francesca told him. “I sat hidden in my brothers’ schoolroom and learned much of history. A wise woman must partner her lord husband, especially when there is territory involved.”

Her father-in-law chuckled. “What were you supposed to be doing when you listened to your brothers’ lessons?” he asked her.

“Oh,” Francesca said, “a variety of things women are expected to know. How to sing sweetly, play an instrument, candy violets and rose petals. But I never heard it said that a woman was chosen to wife any man because of her abilities to sing or candy flower petals. Minstrels sing, and a lady’s serving woman can make sweets. It was far more interesting to listen to adult conversations and a tutor lecturing on history. And after my sister, Bianca, ran away with her Turkish prince, I thought it even more important to know more of the world and less of the meaning of flowers.”

Lord Titus laughed heartily. “If you give this family sons who are as spirited and as curious as you are, my daughter, I will be quite content.”

“I will do my best to please both you and my husband,” Francesca said with a mischievous smile. Then she grew serious. “But tell us what the Comte du Barry had to say to you. Certainly he was upset that you sent his daughter home, but he surely understood, as my family did, that she would be returned if not chosen.”

“Therein lies the problem,” Lord Titus said. “It should have taken the French entourage no more than two weeks to return to the du Barry estate. But she did not return home for almost six months, and then with only her maidservant. She was great with child, and has only recently given birth to a son. She claims the infant is your son, Rafaello, and the rightful heir to this duchy.”

“She lies!” the young duke said.

“The bitch!” the
duchessa
said.

“Of course she lies,” Lord Titus said. “But, having spoken the lie, we must now disprove the falsehood. The comte is outraged. His daughter claims you seduced her, and for six months hid her away from everyone as your mistress until you were ready to marry Francesca. Then you sent her back to her father with nothing but a big belly.”

“But I didn’t,” Rafaello said. “The girl’s arrogance and ill nature had me discount her as a possible wife almost immediately. And while she was fair, I never found her enticing enough to seduce. Especially as I was so intrigued with Francesca from the start. How in the name of heaven are we to discredit the wench’s claim?”

“By telling the Comte du Barry what you have just told your father, and me,” Francesca said. “He won’t want to believe you, for it is his daughter, but he knows the kind of girl she is. How could he not? And if you refuse to acknowledge the child what can he possibly do? The blessed Mother only knows where Aceline managed to get her bastard, but he is not yours, my lord, nor will he take the place meant for my firstborn son,” Francesca declared fiercely. Then her old arrogance surfaced, causing her husband to smile. “How dare she even think her beauty could surpass mine and win your heart?”

“With no marriage or promise of one,” Lord Titus told them, “Aceline du Barry has no hope of foisting her bastard upon us. But we cannot keep writing letters back and forth. The Comte du Barry must be invited to Terreno Boscoso so we may settle this face-to-face. And I wish to know where all the rich gifts we sent with Aceline have disappeared to. Perhaps Aceline will have a clever answer for us.”

“You are surely not considering asking her to come with her father?” Rafaello said. “This will become an open scandal, especially given Francesca’s disappearance into the forest last autumn.”

“We knew where Francesca was,” Lord Titus said. “We knew she was safe with Alonza. And when she returned she was not carrying another man’s child. Besides, it was not common knowledge when we postponed the wedding. It was assumed we did it because your bride wanted her family to come from Florence, and we acceded to her wishes.”

“Yet if anyone in the castle is asked, none saw her the entire winter long,” Rafaello pointed out. “How do you explain that without telling them my bride ran away?”

“Why, my son, Francesca being the devout young woman she was, she spent her winter in isolation with her priest and the two nuns who were her companions. She prayed for the success of her marriage to you and for the healthy children we all desire,” Lord Titus said, the lie coming easily to his lips.

“What of Terza’s distress? Everyone in the castle knew of it,” Rafaello said.

“And everyone in the castle will remain silent if I say Francesca was here, choosing solitude from all, even Terza,” Lord Titus replied.

“I will speak with Terza and explain the situation,” Francesca said. “She is clever, and will know what to do if questioned. The priest and nuns have returned to Florence with my parents. I am assuming, of course, that they are gone?”

Her father-in-law chuckled again. “Yes,” he told her. “I saw them off myself the morning after you two left. They were all but your mother anxious to go, for the journey is a long one. As your father pointed out, however, they needed the di Medici men-at-arms that had escorted them here early this spring, and the captain of those soldiers was quite insistent he needed to return to his master in Florence. Your mother was not pleased, but when reminded of the two daughters still in need of husbands she decided perhaps it was time for her to go.”

“It will be a few more years before Lucianna is ready to wed. While Bianca is not spoken of, the fact that her marriage exists cannot be denied. Now
Madre
’s
second daughter is a
duchessa.
She will seek carefully for Lucianna and Serena. It is hoped that neither of them gives her the difficulties Bianca and I did.”

“I do not find you difficult,” Rafaello said with a grin.

“We are but newly joined, my lord,” she answered him with a wicked little smile. Then she grew serious again, and turned to Lord Titus. “You truly mean to ask the Comte du Barry to Terreno Boscoso?”

“I see no other choice,” the older man answered. “We need to face this lie, and disprove it before Aceline du Barry causes more difficulties.”

Francesca nodded. “I understand,” she said.

“I will write the letter myself,” Rafaello said. “Now that I am the duke it should come from me. I will deny the wench’s charge, but I will insist the comte come to Terreno Boscoso so we may settle this face-to-face. It would seem there is no other way.”

Chapter 11

R
afaello Cesare, duke of Terreno Boscoso, wrote to the Comte du Barry. He denied Aceline’s charges but invited the comte to come to his castle so they might discuss the matter face-to-face as gentlemen of honor would do. A month later Raoul, Comte du Barry, arrived, his daughter and her offspring in tow. The Frenchman didn’t want to believe his daughter was a liar, but one look at Rafaello Cesare and he knew his grandson had not been sired by the young duke.

Lord Titus came to look at the infant. It was big-boned and large. It was unlike any Cesare in the former duke’s memory. The child had a full head of dark brown hair and dark eyes. Even swaddled in silk and lace it was obvious this baby had not been sired by any lordling. It was a peasant’s child.

“Here is your son,” Aceline simpered to Rafaello, holding the infant out to him.

“He is not mine, madam,” Rafaello said coldly. “Why would you even attempt to pass off this boy as mine? He is nothing like me, or for that matter nothing like you. Your lover was a big man, and your child takes after him.” He turned to the Comte du Barry. “Do you still believe I sired this child, my lord?”

“I do not,” the comte admitted, flushing, embarrassed. He turned angrily to his daughter. “Slut! What have you done that you would shame your family?”

“When your daughter was not chosen as my son’s bride,” Lord Titus said gently, “I returned her home to you, my lord, last September, with a train full of valuable gifts.”

“She came home to me in April with naught but her servant to keep her company,” the comte responded. He said again to the young mother, “What have you done?”

“So,” Rafaello said, “the question remains, Where was Aceline during those seven months, and what happened to the gifts we sent with her? Where is the maidservant, Oriel? If she was with her mistress she will know the truth. Did she not return with her?”

“I sent the wench away,” Aceline said. “She no longer pleased me.”

“It is obvious that the maidservant knows the truth of this matter.” Francesca, who had been silent until now, spoke up. “Perhaps she sent her away, or perhaps she had her killed to insure her silence. I would put nothing past the bitch.”

“You are just jealous of me,” Aceline said irrationally. “You were always jealous of me. I don’t know how you got him to choose you, but he would have chosen me had you not bewitched him or told him lies about me.”

Francesca looked at her former rival. “He chose me because I was more beautiful than you. He chose me because my manners are flawless and my character better.”

“You were the scandal of Venice!” Aceline replied angrily. The infant in her arms began to wail. “Someone take this brat!” she almost shouted, handing the squalling child to a nearby female servant, who looked both terrified and horrified.

“He sounds as if he’s hungry,” Francesca said. “Take your son and nurse him, Aceline.” She signaled to the servant to give the baby back to his mother.

“Nurse upon me?” Aceline looked horrified. “He would ruin my breasts. I have a wet nurse with me. Have your woman take him to her.”

“Clarinda,” Francesca said. “Take the poor mite and find the wet nurse.”

“He is not a poor mite. He is the heir to this duchy,” Aceline said. “
My
son, not
yours
.” She smiled, and when she did Francesca realized that Aceline du Barry had gone mad. She had not been so in that summer she and Louisa along with the French girl had been brought to Terreno Boscoso so Rafaello might choose one of them as his bride. But she was mad now. What had happened to her that had brought this condition on? Francesca caught her husband’s sleeve and whispered her concerns to him.

“See how she plots and schemes!” Aceline cried. “She means to harm my son!” She spun about. “Where has your servant taken my baby? Where have they gone?”

“Your daughter is not of sound mind, my lord,” Rafaello said to the comte. “We must learn the truth of what happened to her after she left Terreno Boscoso. Her maid, Oriel, is the answer to this puzzle. We must find her, and pray she is not dead.”

The Comte du Barry nodded. His mistress had told him when his daughter returned to him that Aceline was not of sound mind. He hadn’t believed her. He had even beaten her for saying so. Now seeing his daughter in her current state, he realized it was true. And only the maidservant, if they could find her, would be able to tell them the truth of the matter. “Both she and Oriel returned together. The servant was frightened and spoke little. Then suddenly she disappeared, and Aceline’s old nursemaid was looking after her. I asked my daughter where Oriel had gone, and she simply shrugged. I was afraid to press her, for fear of harming her unborn child. Only when it was born did she claim it yours, my lord,” the comte said, looking to the young duke.

“I took no liberties with any of the maidens my father brought for my consideration,” Rafaello said. “Louisa di Genoa had fallen in love at first sight with my best friend, Valiant,
Signore
di Sponda di Fiume, who was with me and my party of gentlemen when we rode out to greet her arrival. His reaction to her was the same, although he sought to conceal it from me on the chance I should choose her. We greeted your daughter the same way. Aceline, however, was arrogant and rude from the moment we met. She seemed to believe I could not possibly have any other choice than to choose her. I mean no offense, my lord, but your daughter never appealed to me in any way. But if she had I should certainly not have dishonored her virtue.”

“But you were quick to visit your whore wife’s chambers at night,” Aceline said.

“How dare you!” Francesca said angrily. “My husband did not have my virginity until we were wed. Not having your noble French blood, I knew I must be particularly careful of my reputation.”

“The court of Lorenzo de Medici is known for its debauchery,” Aceline snapped.

“I would not know if that were true or not,” Francesca said, although she did. “I was not a member of that court, being the unmarried daughter of a respected citizen.”

“Your sister was a known whore!” Aceline said viciously.

“If it is my elder sister to whom you refer, she was respectably wed to a famous lawyer of the city. Widowed, she remarried. How dare you spread such nasty lies!”

“Remarried?” Aceline screeched. “To an infidel?”

Madre di Dios,
Francesca thought. She had not imagined the scandal would have spread as far as France and the house of an unimportant noble in an isolated region. She must write this information to her mother, who would shortly be seeking a wealthy and titled husband for her next sister, Lucianna, who had just turned thirteen. Such news would not please Orianna at all. “My sister, Bianca, lives under the rule of the Ottoman sultan, and under his laws she is happily wed to his son, Prince Amir,” Francesca calmly answered Aceline. “Again you speak with no knowledge of the truth, just as you have lied in claiming that my husband fathered your son. Had he visited any of us privily while he considered his decision to marry, you may be certain the servants would have known about it and gossiped so that everyone in Terreno Boscoso would have known. Rafaello’s choice of a wife was important to our citizens.”

“Ah, how high and mighty you have become,
duchessa
,” Aceline sneered.

“Where did you go, Aceline, after you were sent home?” Francesca asked her.

Aceline looked slyly at her imagined rival. “Every time he fucked me he would say to me, ‘I am Rafaello, your secret lover
.
’”

“We must find the serving woman,” the young duke said. “She surely can enlighten us as to what happened to her mistress to drive her mad, and hopefully give us the identity of the father of this infant.”

“Where is Oriel?” Francesca asked Aceline.

But Aceline just laughed. “Gone away,” she sing-songed. “Gone away.”

“We’ll retrace the route Aceline took last September,” Rafaello said. Then he turned to the comte. “Perhaps you will remain to aid us, my lord. I must send your daughter back to your home, for I cannot have her here spreading her lies and putting in doubt the legitimacy of the child my wife will bear me.”

“Gone away,” Aceline said smiling.

“I will stay,” Raoul du Barry agreed, “and tomorrow Aceline will be returned home with her child. There is little hope of finding a husband for her now.”

The hunt for Aceline’s maidservant began in earnest. Word was spread along the route that had been traveled when Aceline was sent home the previous autumn.

It was several days later when old Duke Titus remembered something that had happened in the few days Rafaello and Francesca had been away and while he had ruled for those last days of his tenure. Embarrassed, he told his son what he had learned. “I meant to tell you, for it is something we must correct, but alas my mind is not what it once was, and I have grown forgetful, which is why I resigned in your favor.”

“What is it, then, you should have told me?” the young duke encouraged his parent.

“Bandits!” Duke Titus said. “The High Road that Aceline took to reach her father’s home last autumn is being plagued by ferocious bandits. Because it is the shorter road into both France and Switzerland it is more traveled, but a complaint came to us from an innkeeper along that road about these bandits who are ruining his trade because few people will take the High Road now. They also come into his establishment, eat, drink, use the servant girls, and do not pay. This part of the road as far as the French and Swiss borders is our territory, and therefore our responsibility. You will have to go and drive these thieves away, my son.”

Rafaello told Francesca what his father had reported to him.

“Interesting that the complaint should come only now. I wonder if these robbers are the ones responsible for the disappearance of the gifts your father sent with Aceline last autumn. And possibly her condition. It is obvious her
bastardo
is not your child, but someone fathered it. She was gone for months and returned with only a full belly. Then her serving woman who was with her disappears once they are home.”

“Whatever the truth may be,” Rafaello said, “I must go and drive these bandits back to from wherever they have come, be it France or Switzerland.”

“No,” Francesca said. “If you drive them away they will eventually return. You must kill them all, my lord, so that there is no chance of them returning, or, worse, becoming mercenaries of some other lord.”

“Now, here is a side of you I had not imagined, wife. You are a warrior, and obviously unforgiving,” he said.

“Women of my class are schooled to be wives and mothers, but some of us are also educated to understand the complexities of ruling. A few even know the intricacies of battle and weapons, although I do not. I mean you no disrespect, my lord husband, but I can be of more help to you, for I am not simply a pretty ornament like my dear Louisa. That sort of wife suits Valiant, but I think it would not please you entirely, else you would not have chosen me to be your wife,” Francesca told him.

She surprised him. He had chosen her because she seemed intelligent. He had just not considered she might be aware of it. As he was not a man who was afraid to ask a woman’s opinion, he said, “You are probably correct when you say we should kill these bandits, but first we must learn if they had anything to do with Aceline du Barry.”

“Someone took her and kept her for those seven missing months,” Francesca said. “And it is obvious she was robbed of her virginity during that time. The question is, Was it simply one man who had her, so we may know the boy’s sire, or was she given to many?”

He was shocked she would even contemplate such a thing, but she was not stupid.

It was the only answer to the mystery of what had happened, but no one except the maid, Oriel, could tell them the truth of the matter. Aceline’s wits had been weakened by what happened. Whether she would ever again be sane was a matter of speculation.

“I am going with you,” Francesca said to Rafaello, and before he might protest she told him, “If you find the maidservant among these bandits, she is not apt to speak to you for fear of punishment and being held responsible for her mistress’s condition.”