Francesca (33 page)

“Yes! No! No!” Her whole body shook in a fierce spasm.

Satisfied she was more than ready, he ceased, slid between her soft thighs, and slowly pushed his manhood into her now fevered body. “Is this better, my love? Is it?”

He began to move in her slowly at first, causing her to moan with her excitement, then faster and faster until she was half sobbing with the pure pleasure with which he filled her. He watched her face, and the joy he saw in it almost caused him to spill his seed too soon. She needed just a bit more tonight. It had been so long since they had had the pleasure of each other’s passion.

“Carlo! Carlo!” she sobbed to him. Then as he gave her his remaining passion, she found herself in a magical world of divine satisfaction, her body shuddering with the pleasure of his passion, the wonderful sensation of his hot seed filling her womb.

Briefly Francesca lost consciousness.

He groaned with the incredible release they had just shared, his own body relaxing with relief.
His!
She was his for always. He kissed her gently, bringing her back to consciousness.

Francesca opened her eyes and smiled up at her husband. “I love you by whatever name you choose to affect,” she told him.

“I think perhaps Carlo, a simple huntsman, can offer you more than Duke Rafaello, who finds himself beset by so many problems,” he told her.

“I think you were always happier here in the forest than in the castle,” she noted wisely. “But your responsibility to your family guided you. For now that choice is no longer yours. And as for the spoiled daughter of the Florentine silk merchant, I think her winter as a maidservant changed her as well.”

“You are not afraid of this life, then,” he said.

“I am not afraid. Besides, I have it much better than poor old Alonza did. I have Balbina to cook, and Terza and Roza to help me with the rest. It will not be so difficult once the men come in from the cold.”

“I think they will welcome us,” he replied. “They know us both, and the others are easy to get along with.”

“But there is much for us to do before our huntsmen arrive, and we do not have much time,” Francesca reminded him.

“Tomorrow, my love,” he answered her. “Tonight is for us.” Then he kissed her again, and Francesca sighed with her happiness.

During the next few days they worked to prepare for the arrival of their guests. To their relief Alonza’s nephew arrived with a rather scrawny-looking cow. He recognized Francesca at once. “Why, hello, my beauty. You have come back, have you?”

“I was appointed to take your aunt’s place, as she no longer wishes to do it,” Francesca said. “Could you not have brought us a fatter cow and more chickens?”

“Alonza died,” the boy said matter-of-factly. “She wouldn’t leave when the French came. She cooked for them, and then one morning they found her dead in her bed. I had remained with her, and once she was buried, that same day they sent me from my home. When the bastards slept I crept into the barn and took the cow and the remaining chickens. There’s been little food for the folk who remained, let alone the animals. I thought the cow might die before I got her here, but I knew the duke would not forget his huntsmen. At least that’s what my old aunt said.” He climbed from his cart.

“Do you want to remain with us?” Francesca asked him. “I brought some friends from the town to help. We can always find room for another.”

“Thank you, my beauty, but I’ll go back. I’m leaving Terreno Boscoso to find my fortune elsewhere in the world. The townsfolk are now scattered throughout the countryside. They’ll not return as long as the French occupy the town. The duke has barricaded himself in the castle. There is nothing left. I don’t suppose you’d come with me, my beauty? I’m a man of some property now, with my donkey and cart.” He grinned.

Francesca laughed. “I have married Carlo the huntsman. I do not believe he would like it if I deserted him.”

“Well, good luck to you, then,” Alonza’s nephew said. “I’ll remain the night if you will have me. I like the smells coming out of the kitchen.” He grinned.

“You are more than welcome to remain,” Francesca told him. “My thanks for the cow. We’ll fatten her up somehow. Let the chickens loose in the yard.”

“She’s better here now than in the town,” the boy said. “The French are eating everything and leaving those who remained to starve. The Terreno Boscoso we knew is gone, I fear, but I do not understand how it happened, Cara. Why did the French invade us? Our ducal family is a peaceful one. They always have been. They kept us from the wars and other conflicts between the Italian states and France.”

“I have heard that the French king is amassing more and more land,” Francesca answered Alonza’s nephew. “I suppose because Terreno Boscoso was peaceful it seemed an easy conquest.”

“A warm hearth, a hot meal, and a good woman should be enough for any man, or so Alonza always said to me,” the boy replied. “Oh, well. I must simply find my fortune elsewhere. My aunt is dead, my mother gone to her brother’s farm.”

Rafaello, who would now be known as Carlo, listened to the boy. In his entire life he had never felt so helpless. He was Terreno Boscoso’s hereditary ruler, and yet he had been unable to protect his own duchy. Rather than frittering away his youth and enjoying himself while his kindly father ruled, he should have been looking to the future. He should have considered the possibility of one of their larger neighbors coveting the duchy.

The constant wars in the Italian states and between the French and those states would have convinced a wiser man that the world was changing. Nothing, after all, ever remained the same. He should have thought to convince his father to allow him to raise and assemble an army. Despite the mercenaries they had been helpless to defend themselves, and now his people were suffering for his lack of foresight.

Alonza’s nephew departed the following morning. The new innkeeper, however, had hardly spoken since the previous evening when he had listened to the boy. He climbed into the bed he now shared with Francesca and lay awake most of the night. If she was surprised by his lack of interest in lovemaking, Francesca said nothing. She had had a busy day and was content with the opportunity to sleep. In the morning, however, she saw that his mood was no better. “What is the matter, my love?” she asked him, concerned.

“I should have known,” he said bleakly. “I should have known that the French would seek to have Terreno Boscoso. It is well-known that King Louis is acquisitive.”

“Nonsense!” Francesca said, surprising him, for she rarely disagreed with him so strongly. “It is not likely that King Louis knew anything of us until the Comte du Barry told him of a gold mine and a wealthy duchy he might easily have for the taking. Du Barry knew how to stoke his king’s greed, and he did.”

“We should have had our own army,” he told her. “I should have made alliances.”

“Yes, we should have,” she agreed. “But from the time your noble Roman ancestor founded the duchy those of his descendants who followed him have lived in peace with their neighbors. Terreno Boscoso was peaceful and prosperous, nothing more. It did not threaten anyone, so none felt threatened by it. But once King Louis learned of that mine we were lost, my love. Even when he learns there is no longer any gold in the mine he cannot simply withdraw and reveal his avaricious greed to the rest of the world. He will retain it, and your duchy will be no more. He will use the excuse that Milan constituted a threat to France, and when you would not swear your fealty to France he had no choice but to take the duchy from you, for he feared you were in league with Milan.”

“Then all is lost,” Rafaello said bitterly. “I shall never be able to regain my duchy. Our family’s castle will remain empty of the Cesares.”

“We are alive,” Francesca said.

“To what purpose?” he asked. “I am the duke of Terreno Boscoso yet I have no home, can rule nothing any longer.”

“We are alive,” Francesca repeated. “We will make a new life for ourselves here in the forest of Terreno Boscoso.”

“I am not an innkeeper, Francesca!” he said, suddenly angry.

“Nor am I,” she countered. “I am the daughter of a wealthy man. I was raised to be cosseted and waited upon. Every wish I had was granted. I was destined to a life of privilege, to be the wife of a duke, a prince. But when I ran away from you, when Alonza took me in, I learned to serve others, and in doing so found myself happier than I had ever been in my life, Rafaello. I did not think you a weak man who could not change given the opportunity. Do not dare to prove me wrong,
my lord
! We have survived our enemies, and we will continue to survive them. Now, it is almost sunrise. Get out of bed, for we have much to accomplish today. It will not be long before the huntsmen begin coming, and we must be ready for them.”

She got up, washed in the cold water she poured into the basin, and dressed quickly. Then she left him, silently praying that she had roused him before he fell into a melancholy. Francesca realized as she considered the words she had spoken to him that she would rather toil in the forest as the innkeeper’s wife than live in exile in Florence on her father’s largesse as an object of pity. I should be surprised with myself, she thought, but she wasn’t. Two winters ago she had learned a valuable lesson in humility. She hadn’t forgotten it. Now her husband must learn that lesson.

Reaching the kitchen even before Balbina, she added wood to the hot embers and soon had the kitchen hearth blazing. Seeing the risen dough in a large bowl, she kneaded it into several loaves and tucked it into the ovens to bake, just as the cook hurried into the kitchen, Roza behind her.

“Oh, my lady,” the cook exclaimed, but before she could continue, Francesca held up her hand.

“Who?” she asked. “I see no lady here, Balbina.”

“It is difficult to address you in what seems a disrespectful manner,” the cook said. Then she added, “I apologize for oversleeping, Cara.”

“Our trip was long and fraught with danger,” the younger woman replied. “Do not apologize, Balbina. I will usually be up before you each day now that I am responsible for this inn. Be aware that Carlo is suffering regret at having been unable to defend the duchy from the French. The lad who brought the cow and chickens gave him news from the town. Barricaded in the castle, we had had none in weeks. The plight of our people troubles him greatly.”

“If it hadn’t been for the duke’s warning,” little Roza spoke up, “the town wouldn’t have been able to evacuate and take its wealth with it. At least the French got little, and if our folk do not come back they will be able to begin anew somewhere else. Duke Rafaello was a good ruler. He looked after us as best he could under the circumstances. How many might have been killed resisting? How many women shamed by lustful soldiers, Cara? It is the people who made Terreno Boscoso, not the land. And our duke saved the people. He should feel no regret. He thought first of his people, which is more than most of these great lords do.”

“Thank you,” the duke said, stepping into the kitchen. He had been entering the kitchen, but curious to hear the women talking, he had stopped to listen. His despair lifted.

“Oh, sir!” Roza cried, blushing.

“Will no one feed me my breakfast?” Carlo the huntsman said with a smile and a wink at Roza.

“Go and gather the eggs,” Francesca ordered him. “Despite their uncomfortable trip the hens may have laid a few.”

“How does one
gather
an egg?” he asked her.

“Come along, Carlo, and I will show you. You will not sit about while the rest of us work to be ready for our guests,” Francesca said briskly as she hurried from the kitchens with her husband in her wake.

Roza giggled. “She is more a
duchessa
here than at the castle,” the girl said.

Balbina chuckled. “The castle was his, and he adores her. He treated her like a precious possession,” the cook noted wisely. “But this inn is hers already. She might have been raised in luxury, but I can see she knows how to work.”

Over the next few weeks they toiled to ready the inn for the huntsmen. The days were growing shorter, the winds blowing more from the north and west now. The bedding had been aired in the cool sunshine, the rooms swept free of dust, the windows washed. Matteo and the duke chopped wood each day, filling a woodshed. Then they built a second shed and filled it as well. Repairs were made where necessary. Gathering the eggs first thing in the morning was now a chore assigned to Roza. Carlo seemed to break more eggs than he brought. And then late one afternoon as the sun was setting, two rough-looking men emerged from the forest.

Alerted by Matteo, Francesca hurried to the open door of the inn and immediately recognized Bernardo and Pippino. “Welcome back,” Francesca greeted them with a smile, and was immediately enveloped in a bear hug by Bernardo.

When he released her he asked, “Alonza?”

“Gone to God,” Francesca said, crossing herself, as did her two companions. “The duke appointed me to replace her on Alonza’s advice. I have brought a few friends from the town to work with me, and I have married Carlo. Come in, come in! The wind is coming up, and I smell rain in the air. Roza, ale for these two thirsty guests of ours.”

“When did you come?” Bernardo asked her.

“About a month ago. Alonza’s nephew managed to bring us a cow and some chickens. I hope all is in order for the men. Do you know how many have survived the French? How many will be coming to shelter with us?”

“The few with families in the town and about it left to take them to safety just before the French came. Half came back to the forest once that was done. You may have a few empty pallets, Cara, but those of us who shelter with you will be grateful.”

“We brought with us what stores we could find that escaped the French’s eyes,” she told him. “And, of course, there were things already here, but we must be careful if we are to get through the winter. And then we shall hope to be able to find what we need for next season. Tonight, however, you will eat well, and not my cooking,” Francesca teased him. “I have a fine cook, Balbina by name. Come, and I will take you to the kitchens to meet her. Balbina appreciates a man with a good appetite. Pippino, if we leave you here, can I trust that Roza will be safe from your randy behavior?”