Chapter 1 #4
“The servants will gossip,” Bianca responded pertly.
“They say that while he is rich and clever at his craft, he is wicked and godless. And this is the man you have chosen for me, Papa? Have I been so wretched a daughter then that you are willing and eager to entertain the first offer for my hand that is brought to you?”
“You should not be listening to the idle chatter of menials,” her father responded through gritted teeth.
In his mind, she was correct, but it was not her place to criticize him.
She did not know of the circumstances that had brought about this catastrophe.
He had no other choice. Marco was his heir, and his reputation for honesty would surely suffer if the truth came out about that night.
It was the sort of thing that was never forgotten, and it would reflect on the family’s silk business. It could not be permitted to happen.
“Why must I marry this old man?” Bianca asked him. “Could you not have found me a younger husband? A noble husband?”
“How dare you question my decision, daughter? You have never before done so,” her father replied, defending himself.
She was his daughter. It was her duty to obey his every wish whether she approved of it or not.
“I have never before beaten you, but I will, Bianca, should you defy me in this matter. It is not your place to say whether you will or you won’t wed the gentleman I have chosen for you.
I have accepted Sebastiano Rovere’s proposal of marriage in your name, and you will wed him as soon as the date is fixed.
That is the end of the matter. Now there is another matter that must be settled.
Your fidanzato has heard of the spectacle you have been causing in the piazza when you go to Mass with your mother each morning.
He does not wish his future wife to be the center of such foolishness.
You will again join your younger siblings when Father Aldo says Mass in the house chapel every day. ”
“But I am not responsible for the behavior of those young men,” Bianca protested. “I like going to Mass with my mother. I like Father Bonamico.”
“Your reputation must be preserved, Bianca. Sebastiano Rovere is the most sought-after and respected lawyer in all of Tuscany. His bride cannot be said to be anything less than pure and untouched. She cannot be like a common woman of the streets, whistled at and shouted after by strangers. The matter is settled.”
Bianca opened her mouth to challenge her father again, but Orianna finally spoke.
“It is little enough to ask, Bianca,” she said in her quiet voice. “Father Bonamico will come to the palazzo to hear your confession each week. You should find it flattering that your fidanzato is already jealous of you.”
Bianca pressed her lips together and bowed her head in submission. “Yes, Madre,” she said. “I hope I will have the time I feel I need to grow used to this marriage that you have planned for me.”
“Of course, cara mia,” her mother reassured her quietly.
“It will not, cannot, be for several months at least. Your trousseau and your bridal gown must be made. This is not something that can be easily or properly done if it is done too quickly. Do not think about it, cara. Now run along and share this exciting news with your sisters and brothers.”
Bianca curtsied to her parents and, turning, hurried from the library.
She did not find the announcement that she was to marry exciting.
She was horrified that her father could not have found another way to satisfy his debt to Sebastiano Rovere.
How old was the man? Stefano was at least seventeen, and there was another, younger brother who might be the same age as her second brother, Georgio.
She shuddered. It was disgusting that an old man should want a young wife.
She was hardly pleased that his hold over her had already been put in place, and she was now forbidden to cross the piazza with her mother so she might attend Mass.
How dare this old man impugn her honor? Did he think she would encourage the men who waited to catch a glimpse of her? It was unbearable!
Entering the rooms she shared with her younger sisters, she found Francesca waiting for her. “Well, is it marriage?” the young girl wanted to know.
“Yes. To Stefano Rovere’s father,” Bianca said with a shudder.
“He is an old man!” Francesca exclaimed. “Why would Papa allow it? I did not think any of us would wed in Florence. Mama has never wanted it.”
“I have no idea why this match has been made,” Bianca lied to her younger sibling.
There was no need for the curious Francesca to learn of Marco’s error in judgment that had led to this disaster for her.
“However, I cannot disobey Papa, as much as I would like to do so. I do not go to this marriage joyous.”
“Well, perhaps since he is so old he will die soon. Then you’ll be a rich widow free to do as you wish. You can take a lover who will please you,” Francesca said practically and sanguinely with typical ten-year-old logic. She tossed her blond hair. “I will marry a prince one day.”
Bianca did not reprimand the girl for the thought. It actually gave her hope. But she did say, “You will wed whom Papa chooses, but I hope for your sake he is a prince.”
“When’s the wedding?” Francesca wanted to know. “I will need a beautiful new gown for it. Not as lovely as yours, of course, for it will be your day, but nonetheless I would show at my very best. Who knows who will see me.”
“The date has not been set yet. I think our mother will protect me as long as she can,” Bianca replied. “She made some remark about trousseau and gowns.”
“Our mother is very clever,” Francesca observed.
“There are several proprieties that must be met. You will have to formally meet him. That must be done privately. Perhaps he will come and escort you to Mass one morning before the official proclamation. Your marriage to this man must then be announced with the proper ceremony, for both families are distinguished and you do not want unsavory gossip circulating regarding your association with him.” Francesca was much like their mother in that she studied all the social customs associated with their world.
“That should take at least a couple of months, perhaps even a year,” the young girl said hopefully.
“Perhaps,” Bianca replied, not telling her sister that she had been forbidden to go into public any longer.
Santa Anna! If she could delay this union long enough, perhaps he would lose interest in her.
Still, if Sebastiano Rovere did escort her across the piazza and people were made aware that she was his affianced, the crowd of eager young men might disperse for good.
Then she would not be cloistered until she wed, after which she would be cloistered anyway.
She would suggest it to her mother, who she knew enjoyed her company in church.
Orianna came, as was her custom, to bid her daughters good night.
Having done so, she took Bianca aside in the girl’s own bedchamber to speak with her.
“Your poise in accepting your father’s decision was pleasing to me at first. I am happy to know you can behave wisely.
However, you should not have fought with him.
He does not want this marriage any more than you or I do, but he has no choice in the matter. ”
“Marco has told me of the reasons for this marriage,” Bianca said candidly. “Had he not, I should have collapsed with my fears. Is there no other way for my father to repay this debt to Master Rovere? Why is he so determined to have me for his next wife?”
“Your father has made every attempt to do so, as you already know,” Orianna responded.
“Rovere will have nothing less than you for his bride in order to settle the debt. I do not know if he has ever even seen you, Bianca. I believe he wants a blood tie in order to protect his own son, for if Marco were to go to the authorities first, it would be difficult to save Stefano from some punishment and would thereby tarnish Sebastiano Rovere’s reputation.
He is a powerful man, but when a man is that powerful he attracts enemies both openly and secretly.
They will always be seeking for a way to bring him down.
But a marriage between our houses gives him the security of blood between us.
And, too, your reputation declares you to be young, fresh, virtuous, and very beautiful.
An older man with a beautiful young wife is much envied.
Rovere likes to be admired and envied by others.
Having you for a wife will be a coup for him. ”
“I know he is old, but how old?” Bianca asked her mother, thinking as she spoke that without her brother’s foolishness she would not be in this position.
“Your father tells me he has thirty-six years to his life so far,” Orianna answered.
“Madre di Dios!” Bianca half whispered. “He is twenty-two years my senior!”
“Your father is older than I am,” Orianna reminded her eldest daughter. “An older husband is not such a bad thing, my daughter.”
“Papa had at least seen you. He told me he first saw you in a gondola with Grandfather passing him by on the Grand Canal. Although his suit was accepted by your family, despite the fact he was a foreigner to them, he was expected to court you, and you had the time to come to know him. When you wed you were familiar with the man you were marrying,” Bianca pointed out.
“Sebastiano Rovere will come to meet you, Bianca. It will be several months before I allow this marriage to be celebrated,” Orianna said.
“Trust me to protect you, for I will not allow anyone to force this marriage any sooner than I must. But your father is frightened of this man, and I will not be able to hold him off forever.”
“I understand, Madre,” Bianca replied. “And you may trust me to do what I must to protect our family. However, I wonder if Signore Rovere were to escort us across the piazza to Mass once or twice, the young men who come to see me would understand the significance of his presence and depart, never to return. I must tell you that I am offended that my own honor would be questioned by a man who does not know me.”
“A clever argument, Bianca,” her mother said approvingly, “but first I shall attempt to convince Signore Rovere to change his mind by telling him it comforts me to have my eldest daughter by my side at Mass. If he forbids you, then he takes something away from me. We will see what that argument brings us. Certainly he would not deny a mother her daughter’s company, especially as you will soon be gone from this house.
It would not be wise, however, to reveal to him that you are a clever girl.
He would be stricter with you then if he knew it. ”
Bianca smiled and bowed her head slightly in appreciation. “Thank you, Madre.”
Orianna smiled back at her daughter. She was not happy about this union her eldest daughter was being forced to make.
But she would keep Bianca from Sebastiano Rovere as long as she possibly could do so.
She intended to see that every obscure custom was celebrated with regard to this coming marriage.
And when her husband and Rovere complained, she would weep and sob that it was her eldest daughter being taken from her.
The first of her children to get married.
Would they spoil all her joy in such an occasion?
And, of course, a dressmaker must be brought from her own home in Venice to design and sew the trousseau that was to be made for Bianca.
Venetian fashions were the finest, and she would sigh regrettably, more elegant and original than those in Florence.
Of course, when word of that got out, there would be an uproar, but Orianna would hold firm.
Her eldest daughter’s wedding gown and trousseau must be designed and sewn by the Venetians who would come to do so.
Orianna smiled to herself. Oh yes, she could delay the inevitable for at least a few months’ time.
If only she didn’t have to do so. If only Bianca could have a fine young man from Venice or a French duke for a husband instead of the most debauched man in all of Florence.
She cursed her oldest son softly beneath her breath and then quickly took it back.
Men could not help being the fools they were.