Francesca (37 page)

A majority of the council had returned to the town, and as news of the
duchessa
’s return had already spread, they were not surprised to be called to the castle two days later.

They came, and the
duchessa
, already in the council chamber, greeted them warmly. When they were finally all seated she spoke.

“I will not demur,” she began. “Duke Rafaello is dead since November.”

The chamber was suddenly eerily silent as all eyes were fastened on Francesca.

“But do not despair, for last summer God blessed us with twin infants, a son and a daughter. Here is your new duke.” And reaching down to the basket beside her chair, Francesca lifted up her son for them to see. “This is Duke Carlo Cesare.”

The baby, in a well-rested mood, smiled at them all. He waggled his fat little fingers at them, and the royal council of Terreno Boscoso was immediately enchanted.

But then one of them said, “He will need a guardian, a regent, my lady.”

“I am his guardian and will be his regent,” Francesca said firmly.

“But Terreno Boscoso has never been ruled by a woman,” another council member said nervously.

“You are incorrect, Signore Augusto. You do not know your own history. Duke Rafaello told me that this duchy has had two ruling
duchessas
. The first was
Duchessa
Iniga, some five hundred years back, and just a hundred and fifty years ago,
Duchessa
Sancia. I will not govern poorly, I promise you. But it is I who will rule Terreno Boscoso until Duke Carlo reaches his eighteenth year. My son
s
hall have the best teachers to educate him. Captain Arnaldo and my bodyguard, Bernardo, shall teach Carlo the arts of warfare. I shall teach him manners and how to rule properly.” She put the little duke back in his basket and nodded to Bernardo to take him to his nursery. “Now, good sirs, it is time for our second order of business. We must build an army, for never again shall this duchy be threatened by others assuming we are weak, especially as our duke and the little duke of Milan and the new French king are all children. France and Milan quarrel over regents, and will be kept busy for several years to come with that argument. That will not happen here in Terreno Boscoso. Will it?”

“No! No!” the voices of the council murmured. But then one asked Francesca, “What if you choose to wed again, my lady?”

“I will not marry again,” Francesca told them. “I had a good husband. I have children. My responsibilities to Terreno Boscoso are too great. I have no wish for another husband, good sirs.”

The council chamber was silent with her words.

“And no lover will rule me or this duchy,” she reassured them with a little laugh.

“My lady, we suggested no such thing,” a council member spoke up quickly.

“No, you did not, but do not deny the thought bloomed in each of your heads, good sirs. ’Tis only natural you would be concerned by such a thing, but you need have no fears. The path I must take is clear. My son’s interests must be protected before all else. Now, are there any other questions?”

“Who is to pay for this army you wish to raise?” one of the three noble council members asked sharply.

“We will levy a tax,” Francesca said. “Or I can allow the duchy to go unprotected and put us all in jeopardy of conquest once again, if you choose.”

“How much of a tax?” the noble persisted.

“That must be decided only after we have investigated what a small army of about a thousand would cost us,” she told him. “We cannot simply impose a tax. It could be too heavy, or not enough. But now, good sirs, I think we can adjourn this meeting. From now on we shall meet weekly, for I shall need your wisdom and I do value your thoughts.” Francesca arose. “Good day to you all,” she said, and left the council chamber.

“You have given them something to consider,” Captain Arnaldo said once they had departed the council chamber, “as well as frightened them.” He chuckled. “It was masterfully done, my lady, if you will permit me to say it.”

“You are permitted,” Francesca said with a grin. “It was necessary for them to understand from the beginning that I will brook no interference with my son or this duchy. I will listen to anyone’s advice, but I will rule until Carlo is old enough to do so himself. And hopefully he will learn from me and from others. Poor child. He will never remember his father, nor have Rafaello to teach him. He will not have the many years of irresponsibility that my husband had to enjoy. The burden of this duchy is now upon his infant shoulders.” A single tear slipped down her cheek. “My poor little son.”

Captain Arnaldo pretended to ignore her sadness, for he knew she would not want him to acknowledge it. Instead he asked her, “Did you mean it when you told the council that you would never marry again?”

“Yes. I must put any happiness I might have with another aside. A second husband would want children, and who is to say he might not put the future of his son ahead of Rafaello’s son. The Cesare line must continue without any interference or peril.”

“I had not considered that, my lady. You are a wise woman.” The captain nodded.

“I am the
duchessa
of Terreno Boscoso. My loyalty can only lie with my husband’s heir and what is best for the duchy,” Francesca told him quietly. “Obtain the men-at-arms we need, my captain. Then we will set about to build a small army. Will you see that the townsfolk are told to come to the main square tomorrow at noon?”

He nodded and bowed over her hand. Then Captain Arnaldo hurried off, and Francesca hurried to the nursery to see her babies.

“You look worn,” Terza noted as her mistress joined her.

“I am,” Francesca admitted. “Tomorrow I must tell our people of the new duke. Did the French steal any of my clothing? Will I have something impressive to wear?”

“Oddly your apartments were left untouched,” Terza said. “They are exactly as I left them, my lady.”

“We need nursemaids for the twins, and someone to cook until Balbina returns,” Francesca said. “We have eaten all the rations she sent with us.”

“A few of the servants returned today,” Terza informed her mistress. “And they have said the others who fled the French to the countryside will be back too.”

“Is there someone who can care for the twins? I need you to help me prepare for tomorrow,” Francesca said.

“They are sleeping now. If you will remain with them I will find someone,” Terza said, and with her mistress’s approval, she hurried off. She returned quickly with two women following her. They appeared somewhere between older youth and middle years. They curtsied to the
duchessa
, who stood now to greet them. “Here are Cerelia and Donata,” Terza said. “They have children of their own, and will watch over the little duke and his sister, if it pleases my lady.”

Both women smiled at Francesca. They were clean and appeared capable.

“Duke Carlo must be your prime concern,” Francesca told the two. “His sister is Lady Giovanna. I am still nursing them, so I will come here to the nursery several times daily, or I may request you bring my children to me. We will have a larger nursery staff as soon as possible, but the duke and his sister will be your charges.”

“We are honored that you put your trust in us, my lady. I am Cerelia, and I will watch over little Duke Carlo.”

“And I am Donata,” the other woman said. “It is a privilege to care for the Lady Giovanna.”

“Where were you when the French occupied the town?” the
duchessa
asked.

“We fled to the countryside,” Cerelia said. “My husband is a shoemaker in the town, and Donata’s is a leather worker. We returned some days ago to find our houses wrecked and in poor condition.”

“Can your men spare you?” Francesca asked them.

“We have always served the Cesare family,” Donata said simply.

“I am grateful, then, for your loyalty,” the
duchessa
told them. “I leave my babies in your care. I shall return later to nurse them.” Then Francesca, in the company of Terza, departed the nursery. Entering her apartments she was pleased to see that the French had indeed, as Terza said, left them intact. Her jewelry was hidden at the inn, of course, but her clothing was there for her. Francesca reached for a brightly colored gown.

“No,” Terza said. “You are in mourning, my lady. We must choose something darker.” She withdrew a forest green gown. “This is both respectful and flattering.”

Francesca looked at the gown. It was one that her mother had ordered made for her. Oddly she had never worn it. “Yes,” she said. “It will do nicely.”

In the hall that evening Francesca noted that Piero, their majordomo, had returned. There were two other servants who served her a hot meal. “Who is cooking?” she asked, curious.

“It is Balbina’s assistant,” Piero said. “Welcome home, my lady.” He bowed.

“Tell her Balbina will not be back for several months, but she will return sometime in the spring,” Francesca told him. “And see that the drawbridge is restored.”

Piero bowed, acknowledging her words.

Francesca wept softly to herself that night in the bed that she and Rafaello had once shared. She almost imagined she could smell him on the pillows. She did manage, however, after a brief while, to sleep. It was not a restful sleep, but she considered that after a while she would become used to sleeping alone again. In the morning she awoke, and after feeding her infants ate a small breakfast before dressing. Oddly the dark green gown with its elegant gold embroidery and the delicate fall of creamy lace that dripped from her sleeves was very impressive.

Terza dressed her mistress’s hair in a severe style to try to make her appear older than her twenty years. She draped the only jewelry, a double length of pearls, about Francesca’s graceful neck. She fixed simple gold and pearl ear bobs in her mistress’s ears. Francesca refused a cape, explaining a cape could cover her gown and jewelry, and she would not look as impressive as she wanted to look.

“Very well, then,” Terza said, handing her a pair of leather gloves. “Let us go.”

“Where is the duke?” the
duchessa
asked.

“Cerelia will bring him to the hall, suitably garbed,” Terza said. “She and Donata spent all last night fashioning a proper garment for the baby. He cannot be displayed as just an infant. He must look his part despite his youth.”

“How devoted these servants are to the Cesare family,” Francesca noted softly.

In the hall Captain Arnaldo and Bernardo were waiting for them. Cerelia stood next to the big huntsman, holding little Carlo. The baby was garbed in a little pale blue velvet robe that had been embroidered at its neck with gold thread. Seeing his mother, he cried out for her, smiling as if pleased with his new clothing.

“There is an honor guard waiting in the courtyard for you, my lady,” Captain Arnaldo said.

“You must ride by my side,” she answered him. “Bernardo, you will be on my other side with the duke in his basket.”

They nodded silently and then hurried to the courtyard, with Terza and Cerelia following. Francesca mounted her horse as the men mounted theirs. Terza made certain her mistress’s gown was spread gracefully over the horse’s flanks. Cerelia tucked the little duke into his basket by Bernardo’s side. A half dozen men-at-arms preceded them as they rode from the castle courtyard. Another six men-at-arms followed behind them.

They rode slowly and carefully across the damaged drawbridge and down the hill into the town. Reaching the main square, they found it full. When word had been spread that the
duchessa
would be speaking this morning, many still outside the town had hurried back to hear what she would say. There were already rumors, but they had come to hear fact.

The mounted party rode to the center of the square. Francesca turned her horse to face the majority of the citizens gathered. It was silent and so she spoke loudly for all to hear. “Citizens of Terreno Boscoso, like you, I thank God almighty that the French have gone. Now I bring you news both tragic and yet hopeful.” The people in the square seemed to press closer so as not to miss a word. “Duke Rafaello is dead.”

A great cry of sorrow rose from those gathered.

Francesca held up her hand to quiet them, and when there was total silence once again she continued. “But four months before my husband’s murder, God blessed us with twin infants, a son and a daughter. He is tiny, but he will grow, with our help, into the man his grandfather and his father were. Good people of Terreno Boscoso, I bring you Duke Carlo Cesare.”

Then she nodded to Bernardo, who held up her little son for everyone in the square to see. After a moment of stunned silence the people began to cheer wildly. The baby, not at all frightened, seemed to raise his hand in greeting. “Look at that! Look at that!” they heard people saying. And then the cry went up, “Long live Duke Carlo! Long live Duke Carlo! Long live the
Duchessa
Francesca!”

They left the now-noisy square, and as they rode, Francesca said to Bernardo, “How did you get him to wave at his people? He is so tiny, and it will be spoken of for years to come.”

“I used a single finger to raise his little arm. The velvet of his gown hid what I was doing,” Bernardo explained with a broad grin. “It seemed a good way to get the people to quickly take the wee duke to their hearts.”

Francesca laughed aloud, and for the first time since Rafaello’s murder she laughed long and heartily. “It was masterfully done, my old friend,” she told him. “You must not leave our side, Bernardo. I hope you will not miss the forest.”

“When he’s old enough I’ll teach him to hunt,” Bernardo said.

“You must teach his sister as well. I will not raise her to be a silly girl,” Francesca said to him. “She must be a strong and fearless woman, for who knows what she will face in her lifetime.”

“She will hopefully be like her mother,” Captain Arnaldo said quietly.

“I am my mother’s daughter, it would seem,” Francesca told them. “I am not a wild romantic like my elder sister, Bianca. Though it be a radical idea, a woman must be strong in order to survive. I am just that and I am fortunate in having you both by my side and by my son’s side. The next few years will not be easy, but, God willing, Carlo will live to reach his majority, to marry one day, and to give me grandchildren, one of whom will follow in his father’s footsteps. It is enough,” she said as they rode up the castle hill.