Chapter 7 #2
Bianca laughed. “Other than a few large and ugly pieces, which I gladly left behind when I fled his house, no. He bought what was most expensive, not what was tasteful or beautiful. The jewelers all knew that. Anything delicately made, he passed over for large pieces that could be displayed to his advantage, not the wearer’s. ”
At her invitation, Amir remained for the afternoon meal.
Gemma served a lovely white fish broiled in butter and lemon, along with a dish of small pasta mixed with rice and flavored with olive oil and herbs.
There were artichokes and a roasted capon that had been stuffed with sage and onion.
There was bread, which they dipped in olive oil, and a delicious wine to drink.
It was simple but surprisingly satisfactory.
They were just finishing their meal when they heard the sound of horses’ hooves outside.
Bianca grew pale and jumped to her feet, calling for Agata. Had he found her? She had to escape the villa. She would not allow Sebastiano to force her back to Florence as his wife. “Agata! Agata! Where are you?” She was becoming frantic with her fear.
Prince Amir saw the terror in her eyes, in her face. Jumping to his feet, he said, “I will protect you, Bianca! I will protect you!”
Agata ran into the sala da pranzo.
“Tell Primo to saddle my horse,” Bianca cried. “I must get away! He cannot find me, Agata! He cannot! Hurry! Hurry!”
There came a loud knocking on the oak doors.
“See who is at the door,” Prince Amir said sternly to Agata.
“No! No! I must escape! I must!” Bianca sobbed now, thoroughly frightened.
The knocking resounded again.
“Go!” The prince told Agata.
Pale herself, the servingwoman scurried off to do his bidding.
Reaching the door, Agata pulled it open before her courage failed her.
“Signora! Oh, signora! You have given us such a fright,” she said to Orianna Pietro d’Angelo, who stood before her.
“Come in! Come in! Mistress! Mistress! Come quickly! It is your mother!”
Bianca flew from the dining room, running straight into her mother’s outstretched arms. “Madre! Oh, Madre!” And then she began to weep.
Orianna hugged her eldest daughter as the tears pricked the backs of her eyelids, but she would not let them fall.
“Bianca, Bianca,” she murmured into her child’s dark hair.
“I could not let another birthday pass without seeing you.” She kissed the tears from her daughter’s face.
“I only wish I brought you better news.”
“Have you eaten, Signora?” Agata asked and then answered her own question. “Of course you haven’t. I’ll have Gemma fix you something immediately.”
“My men . . .” Orianna began.
“Primo or Ugo will have taken them to the kitchens. Their horses will be stabled, and they will sleep dry and warm in the barn, signora.”
Bianca ushered her mother into the dining room
The prince came forward immediately to greet her. “Signora Pietro d’Angelo, I am Prince Amir ibn Jem.” He politely seated her at Bianca’s right hand. “I am your daughter’s neighbor.”
Orianna was rarely surprised, but Prince Amir’s presence was totally unexpected. She sat down at the rectangular oak table. Surely Bianca hadn’t taken a lover.
“We walk together, we ride, and occasionally he can even beat me at chess,” Bianca said, smiling at the prince.
It was a warm smile that a woman gives to a man she is in love with, and Orianna heard in her daughter’s voice something she had never before heard. Madre di Dios! Do not let her have acted foolishly. “Is that all you do together?” she heard herself asking.
Bianca looked puzzled, not quite comprehending her mother.
The prince, however, did. “You have raised your daughter to be a moral woman, signora,” he said.
“And I have no need to seduce her or bring shame to your name.” He went to Bianca, who suddenly realized what her mother meant.
Mortified, she wasn’t certain what to do next.
Amir took her hand up and kissed it. “Thank you for your hospitality, Bianca,” he told her.
“Will you come tomorrow?” she asked, looking up at him.
“The day after, perhaps. You have your mother for company now, and I am certain she has much to tell you or she wouldn’t have risked the journey,” the prince replied.
Then he looked directly at Orianna. “Can you be certain you were not followed? You have possibly endangered Bianca’s safety by coming, signora. ”
“Rovere is in Rome,” Orianna said. “My journey was planned in advance, and I did not depart from our palazzo, signore. I would never knowingly expose Bianca.”
Amir nodded, and then, turning on his heel, left.
“You were rude to him,” Bianca said quietly.
“Is he your lover?” Orianna asked bluntly.
“Of course not, Madre. I am a married woman, no matter the difficulties with Sebastiano. You did not raise me to be a loose woman,” Bianca replied indignantly.
“Then why is he in your house and alone with you?” Orianna demanded to know.
“Because he is my friend,” Bianca said. “It is my natal day, and he brought me a gift, which I, for the sake of my good name, was forced to refuse. I asked him to share my meal. I am never really alone with him. I am surrounded by my servants. There is nothing improper in our friendship, though I tell you I wish it were otherwise, Madre. He is kind, which the blessed Mother knows my husband has never been. He treats me with respect, which Sebastiano has never done, beginning with that travesty of a wedding night. I am a grown woman, Madre, not an innocent girl who is dazzled by a handsome man.”
“He is very handsome,” Orianna noted. “And proud too. However, you are correct in that he is respectful of you, Bianca. I will admit to being impressed by his care of your good name. Does he know the situation in which you find yourself?”
“Does he know I am a married woman and that I seek the dissolution of my marriage? Yes, Madre, he does,” said Bianca.
Orianna nodded. “I will remain with you tomorrow, and then I must return to Florence. Your father did not want me to come and was fearful for us both, but I could bear our separation no longer. With Rovere in Rome, it was the perfect opportunity. My father sent half a dozen men from Venice to accompany me. I slipped through the church garden and met them outside of its gate. I will return the same way. My absence has been explained by saying I am making a retreat for a few days at a nearby convent.”
“You said the news you brought was not good, Madre,” Bianca reminded her mother. “What is it?”
Orianna sighed painfully. “The influence your grandfather has is limited to two elderly cardinals. Rovere, on the other hand, has his kinsman, and I am told that because of his predilection for debauchery, even in Rome, he has attracted the interest of several other high churchmen whose tastes are similar. The matter of your annulment has become a matter for study and further consideration.”
“In other words, my husband has won,” Bianca said.
Orianna said nothing. She could not deny it.
“I will die before I return to him,” Bianca told her mother quietly.
“He will not care,” her mother replied. “He is a gamesman, and his only interest is in winning. To have the most beautiful girl in Florence flee him six months after their marriage and demand an annulment was a serious blow to his pride. But to have the Church postpone her request for her freedom gives him the victory he needs to salvage his damaged reputation. And having that influence with the Church makes him more powerful in Florence. The di Medici are not pleased at all.”
“But the di Medici cannot legally protect me from my husband,” Bianca responded.
“They must be careful of their own reputation, for we all know there are certain families who would topple them from their position of power and influence given the opportunity. There is nothing left for me now if I cannot be free of Sebastiano Rovere, Madre. I will remain here at Luce Stellare. Eventually it is to be hoped he will either die of his excesses or decide to let me go. If he should ever discover where I am hidden, I will find a way to kill myself, but I will not return to that man or his house ever again.”
While she enjoyed her mother’s company the following day, she actually wished Orianna gone so she might speak with Amir.
But when Orianna did depart the following morning, Bianca felt an even deeper sadness, for she did not know if she would ever see her mother, or the rest of her family, again.
Taking her horse, she guided it down the steep path to the beach and rode towards the prince’s villa.
She needed the comfort of Amir’s presence and his strength.
To her surprise Darius came loping down the beach to greet her, his golden fur gleaming in the sunshine, the long, slender curl of his tail wagging as he reached her.
Then she saw Amir on his own mount, waiting for her in the shadow of the caves.
She urged her mare to their meeting, and almost leaping from the animal’s back, flung herself at the prince in a display of utter desperation.
“What has happened, Bianca?” he asked as his arms closed about her.
Allah! She had to be in great distress to behave so incautiously.
Unable to help himself with her warm body pressing against him, he buried his face in her hair, which had come undone in her race to reach him.
He breathed in the essence of her. Sweet!
Sweet! Allah! He wanted her so much. If he had been another man, he could have easily taken advantage of her unhappiness, but he would not.
“Tell me what is wrong, Bianca,” he heard himself repeating.
Then he set her back from him, looking into her tearstained face. “What has your mother told you?”