Francesca (27 page)

But the old duke grew worse despite her nursing diligence. He was suddenly quiet and would not eat. It reached a point where even Francesca could not get hot wine and herbs into her father-in-law to ease his cough. His body grew frail and shook so hard that she feared he would injure himself. “He is dying,” she told Rafaello. “I can do no more, my lord husband.”

The young duke nodded. He had eyes. If he had one regret it was that his father would not live to see a grandchild. “How long do you think he can survive?” he asked his wife. “If he could live until spring perhaps he would grow strong again.”

Francesca shook her head. “Terza says he will die at any time now. He is not strong enough to last much longer, and certainly not until spring, which is two months away, my lord. I am sorry. I have done my best.”

“I know you have,” Rafaello replied, his eyes filling with tears as he looked at her.

Her own tear-filled eyes met his, and it was in that same moment that Francesca got the oddest sensation. Her husband’s wonderful dark green eyes with their golden lights reminded her of something or someone, but she could not put her finger on it. Shaking off the strange feeling, she put her arms about Rafaello to comfort him. “We will do our best by our father, my lord,” Francesca said softly.

Duke Titus died several days later. Before he closed his eyes that final time, he had called his son and Francesca to him, giving them his blessing. The bells in the little town’s cathedral tolled his passing, and Duke Rafaello ordered a mourning period of two months. The old duke was interred in the family vault, which was located deep in the bowels of the castle itself. Francesca was thankful they had not had to dig a grave, for the frozen earth would not have yielded easily until the spring thaw.

And eventually winter began to release its hold on Terreno Boscoso. The snows melted slowly from the nearby hillsides, although the high mountain peaks beyond remained white. There were patches of green here and there. The winds began to come again from the south some mornings. The sun shone more and more each day. And then when the danger of snow seemed past, word came from travelers along the High Road that the French were moving a small military force into Terreno Boscoso.

“I knew it!” Francesca said. “Last year’s incursion was to see if there would be any resistance, and of course there wasn’t, because this duchy has never been threatened.”

“There has to be a mistake,” Rafaello insisted.

“There is no mistake. The French want something of you. They know we have no armies to contest their incursion. You will have to wait to see just what it is they want. We cannot wait too long, however. If you do not at least protest their incursion they will believe the duchy is theirs for the taking.”

“Perhaps they will withdraw,” the young duke suggested.

Madre di Dios
, he is so trusting of the world, Francesca thought. Well, she would be patient. After all he had not been raised in her father’s house in the city of Florence. He could not imagine the machinations that went on among the powerful. “First,” she said to him, “we should learn who has ordered this force to invade our territories. If it is some minor lord we will protest to the French king and send to Milan for aid. But if it is King Louis himself we have a greater problem, and Milan must be notified, else they believe we are in collusion with the French. Remember that Milan’s duke is a child. His mother and uncles are quarreling among themselves for his authority. News of a French incursion will not please the Spanish either.”

“How are you so knowledgeable in such matters?” he asked her.

“If you had grown up in Florence, my lord, you would know these things too,” she told him. “The world is a hard place, but you have been so sheltered here in your little duchy that you are not aware of such matters. Men of wealth and power always seek more wealth and more power. We will set a watch on the High Road and wait to see what will happen. Remember, my lord, that nothing ever remains the same. The world is always changing, and changing whether we will it or no.”

They did not wait long. Several days later a small party of French arrived. It was led by the Comte du Barry, which surprised Francesca. What mischief was this man up to? She thought their kindness of the previous year had been accepted. Obviously it had not.

Francesca spoke privily to her husband before they greeted the Frenchman and his party.

“Do not accuse, but ask him what purpose he has encroaching upon our lands,” she said. “He should know you are aware of the French presence and disturbed by it.”

Rafaello nodded, and then together they went into the castle’s hall to greet their unwelcome visitors. “My lord du Barry,” the duke said by way of greeting.

The comte bowed. “I bring you greetings from King Louis, my lord duke.”

“While I am flattered, I am puzzled as to why France’s king would trouble himself with me,” the duke responded. “Certainly I hold no importance for King Louis.”

“There you are wrong,” the comte answered him. “Terreno Boscoso is of great interest to the king.”

“Why?” the duke asked.

“It offers an easy gateway into the Italian states where Spain is interfering. King Louis would like to have your fealty, my lord duke. He needs to know his armies may pass through your little duchy unimpeded if needs be,” the Comte du Barry responded.

“Terreno Boscoso has never taken sides in any conflict between the larger powers. If I swear fealty to France, then Milan will feel threatened. France will not come to my aid if that be the case. My duchy will end up being menaced from all sides. If your king invades the Italian states again as he did several years ago, let France’s armies pass the same way as they did before,” the duke told the Frenchman.

“The northern route takes longer, and time could be of the essence,” the comte protested. “France needs to come through Terreno Boscoso if necessary. You cannot be permitted to refuse King Louis!”

The duke signaled his servants to bring wine, hoping his hospitality would cool the Frenchman’s rising temper. The foreign delegation accepted the goblets offered.

“I am amazed that King Louis even knows of our existence,” Francesca murmured. The duchy had been left in peace for centuries. They had never taken sides in any of the disputes that arose between larger powers. How had the French king even come to know of Terreno Boscoso?

“King Louis is very well informed on all matters,” the Comte du Barry replied in answer to her query. Then he turned back to the duke. “I have with me a document for you to sign, my lord. In return for your fealty King Louis will defend your rights and that of your heirs to rule this duchy in perpetuity.”

Rafaello burst out laughing. “The Cesare family is descended from the Caesars, and have held this territory since ancient times. Times before your king’s original ancestors even came into existence. The first ruler of this duchy was a Roman general, Titus Flavius Caesar. I do not need King Louis’s permission to rule, nor for my descendants to rule. We have held this land for centuries, my lord. I will not permit my people to be put in danger by the squabbling of great lords and kings.”

“You have no armies,” the Comte du Barry pointed out.

“We have never needed any,” Rafaello responded. “We are neutral.”

“If you do not cooperate with King Louis we will take Terreno Boscoso from you in his name,” the Comte du Barry threatened.

“I will protest to Milan and to Florence,” the duke said, his temper beginning to rise with every passing minute.

“Neither will aid you,” the Frenchman replied smugly. “Milan’s duke is a child caught in a power struggle between his uncle and his mother. As for Florence, the di Medicis are too busy attempting to salvage their crumbling banking empire to be bothered with an unimportant duchy that holds nothing of value for them.”

“If it is explained that your king wants my lands so he may invade the Italian states easily, both Florence and Milan may think better of my plea for help,” the duke said.

The Comte du Barry shrugged. “There is peace between us right now. King Louis considers the future. Both Milan and Florence are too far away to be bothered with you. Sign the document I have brought you, and you will continue to remain at peace.”

Francesca murmured something to her husband, and the duke said, “I must think on it, my lord. I am content to offer you and your delegation hospitality for the night, but tomorrow you must be gone.”

The Comte du Barry bowed politely in response.

Francesca excused herself from the hall. She didn’t like being stared at by some of the comte’s companions. They had been eyeing her as if she were some prize to be gained. This is a dangerous situation, she thought. She spoke to Piero as she departed, telling him to see that their guests were well fed and housed in the hall overnight, even the Comte du Barry. “Take care for your master’s safety. I do not trust these men,” she warned him, and the servant nodded. Francesca hurried to her own apartments.

“What is happening?” Terza asked her. “Roza said she saw that the Comte du Barry is among those men now in the hall.”

“He is,” the
duchessa
answered her serving woman. “King Louis has sent him to demand that the duke swear fealty to France.”

“How did an unimportant fellow like that become a king’s messenger?” Terza asked aloud. “And how did the French king learn about our little duchy? And why would he seek the duke’s fealty?”

“I do not know the answers to any of your queries, but these are questions that will need answers, and quickly,” Francesca said. “When my lord has fed and settled these unwelcome guests he will come to me so we may discuss it.” She did not tell Terza that the French wanted easy access into the Italian states and would come through the duchy if there was war again.

Francesca dismissed her serving women and waited for her husband to join her. When he did his handsome face was grim. She poured them both some wine from the tray on the sideboard in her dayroom. Then together they sat by the hearth and talked.

“Not only do the French want easy access to our neighbors to the south,” he began, “they want to quarter troops here as well. Terreno Boscoso has never in our long history been occupied by a foreign power,” Rafaello told her. “I cannot allow it, yet if I forbid it they will force themselves upon us. Du Barry even hinted that our lives are at risk if I refuse them. I do not understand the French king’s sudden need for my duchy.”

“We might have hidden from public knowledge the fact that you signed an agreement with France and swore fealty to King Louis, but we cannot keep secret an occupying force,” Francesca said. “Because we have no army of our own we are at a huge disadvantage with all of our neighbors. You will refuse this demand, of course.”

He nodded. “Du Barry cannot force his king on me now, for he has not enough men with him. If I call King Louis’s bluff he may let this go. The truth is that if he wanted to move his armies through the duchy we could not stop him. I do not understand this need to gain my fealty,” Rafaello said.

“Perhaps this was not King Louis’s idea. Perhaps it was du Barry who brought us to his attention and has convinced him of the wisdom of having Terreno Boscoso in his purview. I remember Aceline bragging to Louisa and me that her father was a cousin of Louis’s queen, Charlotte of Savoy. This kinship would give him a certain easy access to the French court.”

“But why is he doing this?” Rafaello asked his wife. “Can you divine his reasoning?”

“He seeks revenge for what happened to his daughter. I believed the knowledge that you were not responsible for her child and our kindness in arranging for Santa Maria del Fiore to give Aceline and her infant a home would have contented him. But he is angry, for his daughter had value to his family as a marriage prize. If you did not choose her, he had another man eager to take her to wife. That was another thing she bragged about. Her father sent her here at your father’s invitation in the hopes of gaining a duke for a son-in-law, but the other man was very wealthy, according to Aceline.

“The Comte du Barry has a guilty conscience because he did not send enough men-at-arms to guard his daughter in her travels here to Terreno Boscoso. He requested of your father that he feed and house these men until a decision was made one way or another. Duke Titus appreciated the comte’s practical side. But having so few men escort his daughter home in early autumn was the cause of her unfortunate tragedy. Raoul du Barry knows this on one hand, but on the other he wants to hold Terreno Boscoso responsible for what befell his daughter. It is not our fault, but du Barry is unable to see that now. Revenging himself on us will not change what has happened, but regretfully you will not be able to convince him of that.”

“I will refuse him, refuse King Louis. I have no choice in the matter. We are a sovereign nation. I will not permit the troops of another nation to occupy us,” Rafaello said. “I must take the chance that having said no the French will permit the matter to drop, and we will hear no more of it.”

“And if they don’t?” Francesca asked her husband. “What will you do then? Have you considered it, my lord?”

“I don’t know what I will do,” he admitted to her. “I could keep a pact of fealty between me and the French secret, but there is no way I can keep it secret if French troops march into my duchy and remain.”

Was he correct in his assessment of their situation? Francesca honestly didn’t know. What she did understand was that this was a dangerous situation in which they now found themselves. She had no experience in governing, and so she could offer her husband little advice. However, she did realize that whatever he did, Rafaello was taking a chance when he defied the French. Yet du Barry was correct when he said that neither Milan nor Florence would come to their aid, being too involved in their own difficulties right now. Silently she damned Raoul du Barry, whose parsimony had cost his daughter so much misery and would now cost them.

Neither the duke nor his
duchessa
felt like making love that night. They slept restlessly in each other’s arms, waking with the dawn. Freshly bathed and dressed they descended together into the castle’s Great Hall. Rafaello had wanted to go alone, but Francesca insisted her place was by his side at all times.