Chapter 8 #4
Giovanni Pietro d’Angelo wrote to his daughter requesting that she return to Florence now that the danger was past for her.
Bianca wrote him back that she preferred to live in the country.
Master Pietro d’Angelo wrote again reminding his eldest daughter of her duty to him.
Bianca wrote back that as a widow she was now free to make her own decisions, and she had made the choice to remain at Luce Stellare.
Master Pietro d’Angelo pointed out to his daughter that he owned the villa in which she lived.
Bianca replied that she would like to purchase the villa from him.
He wrote that he would not sell it to her.
She wrote that she would find another villa by the sea to buy.
Orianna Pietro d’Angelo arrived two weeks later.
Mother and daughter greeted each other lovingly.
Bianca invited her parent to join her on the terrace that overlooked the sea.
Agata brought sweet wine and sugar wafers, then discreetly withdrew just far enough not to be seen, but close enough to hear the conversation.
One look at her daughter had told Orianna what she needed to know.
Bianca had taken a lover. She was radiant with happiness.
It would be the Turkish prince, of course.
There was no one else nearby, and Bianca was too fastidious to take one of her male servants to her bed.
Orianna had seen both Primo and Ugo. They were rough men of the earth, and hardly the type to sweep a girl like Bianca off her feet. No. It would be the prince.
“Your disobedience has distressed your father greatly,” Orianna said, sipping at the sweet wine. It was quite good. She had never tasted anything like it before.
“My father must understand that I am now in charge of my own life, Madre,” Bianca answered her parent. “I am a widow, not a virgin in need of protection.”
“You must remarry, Bianca,” Orianna said.
“Why? I did not find marriage to my liking at all, Madre.”
“You didn’t find Rovere to your liking,” Orianna corrected her. “You are not unhappy with your lover, Bianca.” She looked directly at her daughter as she spoke.
Bianca flushed, but then she said, “No, I am not unhappy with my lover, Madre. But he has no authority over me as a husband would have. We simply love each other, and share pleasure together.”
“Is it the prince? Of course it would be. He is very handsome, and I suspect he was most persuasive,” her mother said. “You are not as sophisticated as you think.”
Bianca laughed. “Yes, Amir is handsome, and yes, he is persuasive, but would you be surprised to know that I am persuasive too, Madre?”
Now Orianna laughed. Suddenly they were no longer just mother and daughter, but two women together speaking of love. “Still,” she said, “for propriety’s sake you must remarry or enter a convent. You are not a courtesan, Bianca.”
“I will not remarry, Madre. That is why I prefer to remain here in the country by the sea. Let any who remember me believe I was so badly damaged by my marriage that I have eschewed society altogether. Is it not better that way? I am not a woman for the convent either. You must speak of me in hushed tones when your friends ask.”
“Do not be dramatic, Bianca. Marriage is the only option open to a woman of good family. You will not remarry in Florence. We will find you a husband elsewhere, and you will begin anew. Since you are a widow, your lack of virginity will not distress a second husband. The wealth you inherited from Rovere will make you most desirable.”
“I took nothing from his estate but my dower plus interest. I have had the monies placed with the di Medici bank, Madre. I had Sebastiano’s notorious slave woman sold, and the proceeds were given to your kinswoman at the convent that sheltered me those many weeks.
I thought that only fair,” Bianca told her mother.
“Bianca! You have been cheated!” Orianna gasped, horrified. “I know that your father saw to it that your husband’s will gave you half of his estate should you survive him.”
“It did indeed,” Bianca said. “I did not want it, Madre. I wanted nothing that belonged to that man. When I fled I left behind the jewelry he had given me. It is cursed, Madre. All of it. Cursed! I could not have kept a bit of it in good conscience.”
Orianna was pale with shock at her daughter’s pronouncement. “You are a foolish, foolish girl,” she told her daughter. “You would have been a very rich woman. We could have found you a great noble for a husband. Now”—she sighed—“I do not know.”
“But I don’t want another husband, Madre,” Bianca said. “Why will you not understand that? I am happy now, and content. Am I not allowed to be so?”
“You don’t want a husband now, Bianca, but what happens when your prince grows tired of you, or returns to his native land? What then, my daughter? Have you bothered to think that far ahead? No! You are just living in the moment, little ingenua!”
“The moment, Madre, is all any of us really has,” Bianca replied. “I love Amir. I will never love another. If he leaves me, then I will be alone. But I will not love again.”
Orianna sighed. “Those are the words of a woman in love for the very first time, my daughter. You will love again. We all do.”
“Did you, Madre?” Bianca asked softly.
Her mother flushed. “It is true,” she admitted. “Your father was not my first love.”
“You were a good daughter,” Bianca said.
“You did what you had to do, and you married the Florentine merchant who was willing to overlook the paucity of your dowry as the youngest child of a Venetian prince. Your parents saw that you came to know your husband before the marriage. My father is kind, and he understood your position. He respected you, and you gave him enough fondness to create a family, and the respect to which he was entitled. But you have never loved my father with the same passion that I love Amir, Madre, and I know you will not deny that, for you are too honest a woman.”
“I see that I have underestimated you, Bianca,” Orianna replied.
“You are far more astute than I would have suspected until this moment. But the fact remains, Prince Amir is not a suitable husband for you, nor will he wed you. He is an infidel. He is tolerated in Florence because he is the sultan’s grandson and an honest merchant.
But if he were to violate the laws of the state he would be expelled and forbidden to return. ”
“Do you threaten Amir, Madre?” Bianca asked her mother. “You surely know he stands high in Lorenzo di Medici’s favor.”
“Even the di Medici are not foolish enough to defy the state or the Church. They keep their power by retaining the favor of the majority of Florentines. If they lose that favor, they lose their power, Bianca. Do you really believe they would favor a friendship over their own power? You are not that foolish.”
“You would make me marry some stranger when I am in love with another man?” Bianca queried her mother.
“Do you care nothing for my happiness? Was not my sacrifice for our family as Sebastiano Rovere’s wife enough?
Do you think I will ever forget my wedding night with that monster, or the nights of debauchery that followed as he introduced me into his perversions, or the beatings I received when I resisted?
Now you would force me to wed another man who will have charge over my very life and death when I prefer to remain a free woman?
I would die first, Madre! Do you understand me?
I would prefer death. Force my hand in this matter and you will find yourself burying me in that great marble tomb that belongs to the Pietro d’Angelo family. ”
Orianna was shocked by her daughter’s words. “Bianca! You cannot mean such a thing. Suicide is a sin in the eyes of the Church.”
“What you propose when you suggest destroying my happiness is a greater sin in the eyes of God,” Bianca shot back, angry now. “I would not care if Pope Alexander himself ordered it, I will not remarry, Madre.”
It was at that very tense moment that Prince Amir arrived.
He had not come by the beach this time but had ridden along the narrow path that served as a road to both villas and beyond.
He saw Agata half hidden, listening to the conversation on the terrace, and moved quickly past her, for Bianca’s raised voice was almost edged in hysteria.
He wanted to learn who distressed her so and put an immediate stop to it.
Brushing past the surprised Agata, he stepped out onto the terrace. “Beloved!”
She ran to him immediately, and his arms closed about her. Then his eyes met those of another woman, a woman he recognized at once as Orianna Pietro d’Angelo.
“Prince Amir,” Orianna said.
“What have you said to upset Bianca?” He wanted to know.
“You are bold to interfere with a mother and her daughter, signore,” Orianna replied. She reached for her goblet, only to find it empty.
“I love your daughter, signora,” he said.
“I know you do, and she loves you, Prince Amir. But your liaison is unsuitable, as we both well know. Bianca is inexperienced, but in her heart she knows it too,” Orianna told him.
“She must remarry as soon after the mourning period as possible, for Rovere is over and done with. I have come with that end in mind, but my daughter will not listen. Perhaps if you explained to her the impossibility of your situation she would understand better, and do her duty by her family. My father is even now seeking a suitable match in Venice for Bianca. I had always meant for her to marry into Venice.”
“But I wish to marry Bianca, signora. My lineage is more than suitable. My own mother was the daughter of an English merchant. It is from her I have inherited my talent for trade. I have made myself a wealthy man, signora.”
“Impossible! You are an infidel!” Orianna said.
“There is nothing that can overcome that fault but for a conversion to our Christian faith. I know you will not convert any more than I, or Bianca, would. Therefore, there is no hope for you, signore. I am sorry, but you certainly understand my family’s viewpoint in this matter. ”
“I would take her back to Turkey. I will not ask that she renounce her own faith,” he said.
“She will live in my palace, the Moonlight Serai, in the hills above the Black Sea, and she will want for nothing. I shall never cease loving Bianca. You surely understand love, signora. Help us! Do not attempt to part us, I beg of you. But should you try to separate us, I will fight you with every resource that I have. I shall not allow anyone to take my beloved Bianca from me.”
“Madre di Dios!” Orianna said. “You actually believe it is possible for such a marriage to take place or to succeed under any circumstances? Never! I will not allow it to happen. I will do whatever I must to prevent such a travesty. Love is not enough! It just isn’t.
You are a pair of romantic fools, but I will not allow Bianca to ruin her life.
I protect what is mine! Be warned, signore, that I have my resources too.
I will use them to prevent any marriage between you and my eldest daughter.
If you truly love Bianca, then help her to accept the reality of this situation.
Do not foolishly lead her on. She will never be yours, signore, but for this short sweet interlude that you have shared together. ”