The Wind Dancer (29 page)

Yes, Lion would understand about belonging and possessing, she thought without
bitterness. As she gazed down at Piero, she was too filled with passionate gratitude to
have any room for resentment. If Lion had taken much from her, he had also given back.
"And you did come to Mandara." She hugged him quickly. "And didn't let Lord Andreas
stop or rest until you got here. You're lucky he didn't smack that mule and send it running
back to Florence."

Piero's jaw was set with determination. "I wanted to see you."

"And I'm glad you hurried." She rose from her knees and took his hand. "Now, come
inside and I'll get you something to eat and a bath to cleanse you of the dust of the road."

He hung back, looking after Lion, who was disappearing into the distance.

"Piero."

"He understood, Sanchia. I didn't think he would, but he did."

She nodded, her gaze following Piero's with joy, bewilderment, and trepidation. She had
been trying to develop more resistance to Lion since the day he had left Mandara but now
found herself once more disarmed and uncertain. "I know, Piero." Then she turned and
pulled him gently toward the door. "I think you'll like living here. It's even prettier than
the baker's house."

"My Lord Andreas," Rosa announced and then scurried from the salon.

Lion frowned as he gazed after her. "What's the matter with the wench? She looked at me
as if I sported horns."

"She's only timid." Sanchia rose to her feet. "You should see the way she stares at
Lorenzo."

"No doubt that's why he hired her for your service. It amuses him to prey upon the fear in
which he's held."

"The fear is well deserved," Sanchia said, remembering how skillfully Lorenzo had kept
her from attempting to leave Mandara with a few words a little over a week before. "He's
a formidable man."

Lion studied her intently. "Did I detect a note of bitterness? What's Lorenzo been doing
to you while I've been gone?"

"Nothing. He's been very kind to me for the most part. He calls on me every day to bring
me a book from your library, and teaches me things he thinks I need to know."

"What things?"

"Oh, table manners and how to dance the
pavane
and the
moresca
and the difference
between bad wine and good." She made a face. "Giovanni would have been delighted
with that lesson." She met his gaze with bold directness. "He teaches me anything that he
believes would prepare me to live in your house as your mistress."

"And you accepted the lessons?"

"Knowledge is never wasted." She paused. "Even though it may never be used in the way
intended."

His lips tightened but he failed to rise to the challenge. "My mother tells me she called on
you."

"Yes, to tell me she didn't want me here." She smiled. "And I told her I didn't want to be
here either. Consequently, we agreed that I would leave as soon as possible."

"You think to annoy me with your defiance? I don't want you here either. We'll return to
Pisa next week." He paused. "If you agree to my terms."

She stiffened. "Terms?"

"I've been thinking this last week and... I feel something for you that is out of the
ordinary for me. There is not only lust, there is... " He paused again, searching for words.
"Feeling. I don't believe I could be content now with just... " He halted again and then
burst out with sudden fierceness, "Listen to me. I sound like a stupid, bumbling oaf." He
took two steps closer. "Enough of this. I want you to live in my home and sleep in my
bed, not only now but for the foreseeable future. I wish you to bear my children. In return
I will give you your freedom, honor, and respect. What do you say to that?"

She stared at him, stunned. "I don't know what to say."

He suddenly smiled. "Then say yes. It's a good bargain; you'll never find a better. I have
wealth enough to give you whatever you desire, and I won't ask you for more than I told
you."

"What of Bianca?" she asked slowly.

His face became shuttered. "There's no need to hurt Bianca. She's content here at
Mandara and we'll be equally content in Pisa."

"And will your mother also be content? Lorenzo said she is determined--"

"She will surrender her ambitions in time."

"Or perhaps you will surrender to her ambitions... in time."

"Sweet Mary, I have no desire to force Bianca back to my bed." He smiled cynically. "I
was even relieved when I discovered Marco was besotted with her. It gave me an excuse
to let her go her way and I to go mine."

"Unless you change your mind and decide your mother is right."

"I won't change my mind."

"How do you know? Everything changes. A month ago I was a slave in Giovanni's shop.
Today I live in a fine house and Lord Andreas wishes to make me his mistress." Her
voice was shaking. "Next month or next year you may decide you want a legitimate heir
for Mandara and return to beget it. Then where would I be? Or you might grow bored
with me and this 'feeling' would disappear. Would you take my children from me and let
me go to another man?" She shivered. "I don't think I would like the life of your mistress
any more than I did the life of a slave."

"I would not grow tired of you."

"How can you be certain? You have no knowledge of my mind, only my body, and you're
still a stranger to me. I don't really know any more about you than I did when you first
came to Giovanni's shop."

He stiffened. "Are you telling me you're refusing me? Perhaps you think to marry some
other man who will give you the respectability you seem to crave."

"I have no thought of marriage. Who would marry me? I'm no longer a virgin and there
are many women more comely." She moistened her lips. "But there's too much risk in
what you offer me. I am to give everything and you may leave me tomorrow. I've been at
risk all my life, but this would be different. This would put my children at risk also." She
averted her gaze. "And I like Bianca. I would not want to hurt her."

"Cristo, not you, too? Everyone is trying to protect Bianca--Marco, my mother, you."

"And you. Why else would you want me to leave Mandara?"

He lifted his shoulders in a weary shrug. "Very well, I don't want to hurt her. God knows
I've been careful these past thirteen years to bring no woman here to cause her shame. I
saw my mother suffer enough over my father's adulteries." His voice suddenly vibrated
with anger and exasperation as he continued, "But, by God, I want you and I willhave
you, Sanchia."

She dumbly shook her head.

Lion's eyes glittered with anger. "I will. You say you have no knowledge of me. Let me
tell you of myself. I am not inconstant. I do not tire of things or people I value. But you
don't believe me, and it seems I must demonstrate my ardor and steadfastness. How
fortunate I have you here in my own house with time to persuade you to my way of
thinking."

"Persuade?"

"Is that not how free women are tempted to couple with men?" He took a step closer.
"You did not find me displeasing before. I believe we can assume that in future you will
again find me pleasing." His hand reached out and gently cupped her breast.

She inhaled sharply and felt the color rush to her cheeks.

He smiled. "I'll tell Lorenzo to stay at the castle tomorrow and come to you myself. I also
have lessons I'd like you to learn."

"You cannot change my mind." She tried to ignore Lion's hand fondling her through the
fabric of her gown and hoped desperately he couldn't feel the response that caress was
kindling. "I was going to take Piero for a walk around the city."

"In the morning. In the afternoon I'll send a groom to take him riding. We have a small
pony in the stables that might do better for him than the mule." His gaze narrowed on her
face. "Send Rosa away also. I want no one in the house when I come."

"No, I don't--"

"If she's still here, I'll send her away myself." He held her gaze with compelling force.
"Don't argue with me, Sanchia. It's not easy for me to leave you tonight. I'll have no
interference tomorrow. Not from Rosa." His clasp on her breast compressed gently and
then released. "Not from Piero." His hand dropped slowly away from her body and he
stepped back. "No one."

He turned and strode toward the door. Before reaching it he stopped abruptly and turned
to face her, his gaze searching her face. "You said you wouldn't be here when I got back,
but I questioned the captain of the guard, who tells me you made no attempt to leave.
Why?"

"Perhaps I was waiting for an opportunity," she said evasively.

He shook his head. "Too tame. You may not think I know you well, but I realize you're
not a person who waits for opportunities. You make them."

"I was waiting to find--" she stopped. "What difference does it make? I haven't changed
my mind. I still intend to leave Mandara."

"Waiting for what?"

"Lorenzo suggested I might be with child. I was waiting to see if he was right."

His expression became arrested. "A child... " His gaze on her abdomen was a lingering
caress. "And are you with child, Sanchia?"

"I still don't know."

"That would change things, would it not?" he asked thoughtfully. "A woman burdened
with a child would have no easy time of it alone in the world." He suddenly smiled.
"Lorenzo did well."

"I don't believe I'm with child." She added defiantly, "And even if I am, it would only
mean I'll have to plan my departure carefully for the babe's sake."

He shook his head. "You're wrong, Sanchia. It would mean more than that if you carried
my child." His smile widened. "A great deal more than that." He turned back to the door.
"Until tomorrow."

When Sanchia opened the door the next afternoon it was to see Lion garbed in the same
wine-colored velvet jerkin he had worn the first time she'd seen him in the piazza in
Florence. She was immediately deluged with memories of that day: Lion's power and
dominance, her own servitude and fear. She wondered resentfully if he had intended to
remind her by wearing the garment today.

"Have you sent your servant away?" he asked briskly as he strode past her into the salon.

"Yes, but only because I knew you would--what do you have there?" She noticed for the
first time that he was carrying two rolled-up parchment scrolls of about two feet in length
under his arm.

He tossed one of the scrolls on the table and began to unroll the second scroll. "Sit down
on the floor."

"What?"

"Sit down on the floor." He dropped down on the rug and smoothed out the parchment
with careful hands. "How can I teach you, if you can't see what I'm talking about?"

She drew closer and looked warily down at the parchment.

Lion reached out, grasped her wrist and drew her down to her knees beside him. "This is
the second Dancer. I call her Caterina's Dancer. You sailed to Genoa on the first Dancer I
had built. This one will be much larger when it's finished."

She gazed in bewilderment at the sweeping lines and minute mathematical equations
inscribed on the parchment. "This is a ship?"

"A design for a ship. The ship itself is only in the first stages at the yard in Pisa. Now."
He pointed to one of the many slots in the side of the ship. "This is where the oars will be
placed. You notice this is a trireme, which means that each bench on the galley is manned
by three rowers, rowing with three separate oars."

"There weren't any oars on the ship that I was on."

"That's because it was a round ship with fully rigged sails, not a galley. I prefer the round
ship, but many merchants will ship their goods only by galley because it's safer on the
longer trips. The galley depends on the wind to carry it from one port to another, leaving
the oars idle most of the time. But the moments when the oars are used are vital. Galleys
don't have to sit off a dangerous shore and perhaps be blown onto the rocks or out to sea
again. They can maneuver to land at many ports not possible for a round ship and--" He
stopped as he glanced up and saw her expression. "What's wrong? Don't you
understand?"

"I understand what you're saying, but I don't understand why you're telling me all this."

"You said you didn't Know me." He met her gaze. "This is my life now. I thought it best
to let you learn this part of me before any other. You must stop me if I go too fast. I fear
I'll make an impatient tutor."

"Lessons. I thought you meant--"

"Oh, I did." Rueful humor twisted his lips. "But I decided this would be a better way to
proceed. Not the most enjoyable but the least threatening to you. I hope you rid yourself
of doubts soon as I don't promise how long my patience will last." He glanced down at
the parchment. "There are three kinds of wood used in the building of every ship. Oak for
the hull, ribs, stem, stemposts, beams, and planking; larch beams for the wide clamps and
interior bracing; and fir for the masts and spars. I try to get my oak from Trevisana, but
those forests are running low and I'll soon have to look farther afield. Perhaps the Po
valley will yield--"

"I don't need a lesson in shipbuilding in order to learn your way of thinking," she
interrupted. "My mind is awhirl with spars, masts, and triremes."

He looked up. "Then what do you need to know? Tell me, and I'll try to give you what
you want."

For the first time he was completely open to her, and she suddenly found the temptation
to explore his ideas and feelings irresistible. "Why shipbuilding? Why did you not go
journeying like Messer Columbus?"

"Someone must build the ships for such enterprises. Safe ships, strong ships, ships that
will last a journey around the world and back again." He added simply, "I wanted it to be
me." He began to roll up the parchment. "I like the feeling of building something. From
the time I was a small boy I knew only destruction. Perhaps I wanted to... I like the feel
of it."