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Authors: Edward Charles

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I shook my head. Veronica was the mistress of such a situation, even when caught out. She had handled the occasion with her usual aplomb, but now, in private, she let her agitation show. ‘The problem is, he is so thick-skinned that he does not pick up gentle indications. He has told me he wants to present something to me at the dinner today. I know what it will be – that medal thing he had made in Ferrara. I cannot accept it, for it would be tantamount to a betrothal in his eyes, but still he pursues me with a zeal I find disconcerting.’

‘It may be the effect of his illness.’

Perhaps it was unkind of me, but my first loyalty was to her, not to the earl.

She turned on me sharply. ‘What illness?’

I replied reluctantly, as if the words had been dragged out of me. ‘Medical opinion is that he may be poxed, and that it is beginning to affect his brain.’

She looked at me closely. ‘You really don’t like him, do you? But thank you for the warning. I can assure you I had no intention of allowing him anywhere near me. He has it in his head that I am from a noble family and refuses to accept the reality of my life, even when it stares him in the face. The more coy I am, the more convinced he is of my virginity. I can play most things for most men, but the innocent virgin is one role that comes to me with difficulty.’

I liked many things about Veronica, and her bawdy humour was one I enjoyed in particular.

‘How will you avoid him?’

She wrinkled her nose. ‘When I see the pretty speech coming, I shall simply have to interject that it is your day, not his or mine, and he should wait for another occasion.’

We both sighed, knowing our subject and his moods, and recognizing the difficult task ahead of her and the repercussions for the rest of us.

‘I shall have to tell him soon. He will believe he has been duped; he will probably threaten to report me to the authorities, and so on. I shall be glad when it’s over. Please believe me, Richard, I shall try to avoid spoiling your day, but you know how difficult he can be to manage.’

I agreed and tried to change the subject. ‘Speaking of managing people, and failing to recognize delicate language, do you have any idea what Yasmeen may have meant when she told Tintoretto she could not presume to be my close friend or part of my family – yet?’

She smiled. ‘Oh yes. I know exactly what she meant.’

I waited. She also waited. Finally I gave in.

‘Come on, Veronica. What did she mean?’

She shook her head.
‘Caro,
you may have reached twenty-one years old but you still have a long way to go before you understand women. She wants you to marry her. How else could she become part of your family?’ As she completed the sentence, she turned towards me and spread her hands wide, thumbs out, palms upward.

Still confused, I blundered on. ‘And what did Jacopo mean when he gave me a perfect portrait of Yasmeen and said he hoped I would recognize it?’

I saw her clench her fists, and sensed her rising frustration with me, her voice now growing louder. ‘The same thing. He was giving you the message that Yasmeen loves you and that he recognizes and accepts the fact. Indeed that it has his active support.’

I could not see it. ‘How?’

She banged her hands down on the table top, exasperated. ‘You have met Yasmeen?’

‘Of course I have met Yasmeen.’

‘Is she shy, reticent, modest?

‘Extremely so.’

She prodded her forefinger into my chest, with each word, to make her meaning clear, even – to – someone – as – stupid – as – me. ‘Then how much courage do you think it took for her to allow her employer, the
maestro
Jacopo Tintoretto, to draw her portrait and to agree to sit for him while he did so, with his eyes looking closely at her every feature and reading the motivation in her expression? Only love would make her do it.
Can you not
see
?’

By now she was almost shouting. I put a hand on hers, to restrain her. ‘Hush, Veronica. Everyone will hear!’

She stood up, holding her hair, now really shouting. ‘Richard! Everyone knows!’

At this point a loud cheer came from the studio and I finally realized why Yasmeen had absented herself.

   

 

‘What have they said to the lady?!’ Courtenay shouted again.

I felt as if the roles had been reversed. Instead of Veronica trying to explain the realities of the world to me, I had to explain them to Courtenay. Just as she had done, I decided to make him work for it. ‘Who are “they” and what makes you think “they” have said anything to the lady?’

‘I tried to speak to her at the albergo but she blocked me. Finally I spoke to her later, in a gondola, as I accompanied her home. She has rejected my medallion outright, and told me that marriage is unthinkable. She has even said she has a commitment elsewhere. How preposterous! If she were seeing another man I should have known about it instantly.’

He walked the length of the room, turned angrily and walked back. ‘Someone has been talking to her. Someone has warned her off. It is political. I felt it even before the Doge died, but now, with everyone jostling for position as a new doge is chosen, I am being frozen out.’

It was a convenient starting point and I nodded, beginning to walk myself, to aid my concentration and for emphasis. ‘I believe you are right, Your Grace. There is a changing mood here in Venice, one that may be moving against you. I have expressed before my distrust of Peter Vannes. I believe he is behind this, and that Queen Mary is behind him.’

He whirled on me. ‘Do you think I am perceived as a danger still? In the English Court?’

I nodded. I do, Your Grace. I fear that Felipe’s influence on our queen has been malign and, in different ways and for different reasons, has put her against both of us. Spain’s influence is spreading and already it dominates the Low Countries. Cheke and Carew were arrested in Antwerp. The situation is grave, whatever your sin. Mine is to be a Protestant. Yours is to be a Plantagenet. Both of us are perceived as threats and, as such, threatened in turn.’

Unusually, I seemed to catch his attention and to convince him. He stopped pacing, took a chair and motioned me into the chair opposite him. ‘Yes, John Neville told me about Cheke and Carew being arrested.’ He nodded to himself, thinking. ‘You are growing fast, Richard, and becoming wise in the process. Your reading of people and events has improved immeasurably over the last six months. Who has taught you?’

I saw I was on dangerous ground. ‘Many things and many people, Your Grace. You yourself have been instrumental in my education, as has Thomas. And others, Venetians, men and women.’

In the interests of truth, I had gone too far. He looked at me with gimlet eyes. ‘You mean that woman, don’t you? That schemer, Franco. Well, take care if you learn the ways of witchcraft from such people, Richard, for they are not to be trusted. And speak to me no more of her. The name of Veronica Franco is not welcome in this house and I forbid you to mention it.’

I stood to leave. I was in danger of losing my temper and it was safer to be gone. As I left the room, he shouted after me. ‘And the portrait is off! Tell the artisan to forget about it.’

Why was I not surprised? I nodded and left.

 

C
HAPTER
60

 

June the 8th 1556 – Fondamenta dei Mori

 

Yasmeen walked into the studio and worked her way across to where I was sitting. I stopped drawing and sat back and she came close beside me, and leaned against my shoulder, a little harder than was necessary to see my work. Instinctively, I put an arm round her waist and she did not resist. ‘Aah,
bellissimo
!’

All round the studio, the apprentices stopped work and cooed at the two of us. I laughed and Yasmeen looked around the room, grinning shyly. ‘Get back to your work or I may forget to pay your wages.’ She may have been young, small and shy, but she could manage this lot when she had to.

‘You said you wanted to see me when I came in?’ she said. I looked up into her dark eyes. As always, the effect was to make my insides feel hollow, as if I hadn’t eaten for days.

‘I always want to see you. You know that.’

She bumped her hip against me, smiling coyly. ‘But something specific? Come to my office. It is more private.’

‘Whoah!’

The apprentices teased us as I followed her out. She waved an arm at the room, but did not seem to be upset. Although they teased her quite a lot in the studio, I noticed it was never overdone, never unkind, and stopped immediately they stepped outside the studio door. When Yasmeen was with a patron in the courtyard, or in her office, they were all of them quiet, serious and respectful.

We sat at the courtyard table and she looked at me expectantly. This was going to be harder than I had expected. ‘The Earl of Devon has had a setback. His pursuit of a lady has been rejected and he has decided to cancel the portrait. He asks me to convey my sincere apologies to the house of Tintoretto and trusts you will find other work with which to keep busy.’

I had expected Yasmeen to be disappointed, perhaps even upset, but she seemed to take it very well. ‘I must inform the
maestro.
Will you wait?’

They returned within minutes. ‘The portrait is off?’ Jacopo threw his arms up nonchalantly as he said it.

I nodded. ‘I am afraid so, yes. I’m sorry.’

Jacopo sat opposite me and beside Yasmeen. ‘Do not concern yourself, Richard. I knew it would happen. Veronica told me ages ago. You have seen how busy we are; to be honest, I was waiting for confirmation. If you had said he wanted to start soon, I should have had a real problem.’

BOOK: Daughters of the Doge
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