Rose Red (39 page)

“We can’t. She is with the priest and has
been for more than an hour. I cannot think what she has to confess
that would take so long,” Bianca said.

“The priest? He’s here? Then Andrea is here,
too? He hasn’t left the villa since he returned with the priest,
has he?”

“Vanni said Andrea wanted a hot bath after
days of riding, and then a nap, but he will join us this
afternoon,” Bianca responded to her sister’s questions.

“He didn’t even come to see me.” Rosalinda’s
voice betrayed all of her hurt and disappointment.

“So much has happened in the last few days,”
Bianca said, trying to comfort her sister, “I am sure Andrea will
speak to you soon, and you will have a chance to tell him your
wonderful news.”

“I’m not certain I should tell him,”
Rosalinda said. “I don’t want him to feel an obligation he would
prefer not to assume.”

“What nonsense!” Bianca exclaimed. She was
sorely tempted to shake her sister and might have done so if
Rosalinda had not looked so dejected. For the present, Bianca
decided, words alone would have to suffice. “I am sure Andrea is as
true to you as Vanni is to me.”

“But you have not lain with Vanni yet, have
you? It makes a difference, Bianca. Mother has told us often enough
about noblemen who toy with girls and then shirk their
responsibilities after the girls are ruined.”

“Andrea would never do that. Rosalinda, he
does care for you. If he didn’t, I couldn’t have been jealous,
could I?”

“That was last spring. So long ago.”
Rosalinda’s voice caught on a sob. “Andrea has had what he wanted
from me. Several times. Now, he doesn’t care anymore.”

“This is your condition speaking,” Bianca
said. “You have kept your secret for too long. Too much has
happened to you in the last few days. At least those wounds
Stregone inflicted on your arm were not serious, but I would not
blame you if you took to your bed in tears after that terrible
scene at the waterfall.”

“What about you?” Rosalinda asked. “During
that same scene you were made to recall the hour when our father
died, in all its frightening detail.”

“Well, it’s a strange thing about that,”
Bianca responded, pleased to have Rosalinda thinking about
something other than her own unhappiness. “Reliving every detail of
what happened on the day Father was killed, and not just the
selected bits and pieces that I repeatedly dreamed, seems to have
banished my worst fears. I will always mourn our father’s untimely
death, but now I find that I can put aside my grief and remember
how much Father loved me, and how much I loved him. In remembering,
I have been freed of guilt and sorrow, so that I can go on with my
life as I am sure Father would have wanted.

“Now, listen to me, my dearest,” Bianca said,
returning to her original subject. “I am going to marry Vanni.
Nothing will prevent it. And, no matter what Mother says, no matter
what she wants you to do when she learns of your pregnancy, you
will always have a home with Vanni and me in Monteferro. We will
not desert you.”

Bianca did not think Andrea would desert
Rosalinda, either, but she could see that her sister was in no
state to believe in Andrea’s love. Bianca seriously considered
going to Andrea’s room, to shake him into wakefulness and tell him
to get himself to Rosalinda at once and declare his love for her.
All that kept her from immediate action was the sure conviction
that Rosalinda would soon discover her sister’s hand in the affair
and not only blame Bianca, but refuse to credit anything Andrea
said as a result of Bianca’s interference.

Nor could Bianca tell Vanni about Rosalinda’s
pregnancy. It was Rosalinda’s secret to tell, not Bianca’s. She
could only hope that Andrea had good reasons for his reticence and
would soon explain those reasons to Rosalinda.

At the present moment, all Bianca could do
was help Rosalinda to dress in the gown in her wardrobe with the
fullest skirt and the highest waistline. While she drew the laces
as tight as possible without making her sister uncomfortable,
Bianca reflected that Rosalinda’s condition could not remain a
secret much longer.

No one else ever learned exactly what passed
between Eleonora and Father Tomaso, the elderly priest who had come
to the villa with Andrea, but he was waiting with her in the
sitting room when the other members of the household joined them in
late afternoon. They were all there: Rosalinda and Bianca,
Bartolomeo and Valeria, and Vanni with Andrea, who came in a bit
after the others had assembled. Francesco was already seated in the
most comfortable chair. He kept his left arm against his side in a
protective way, but otherwise he showed no ill effects of the wound
he had suffered on the previous day.

“Now, then,” Eleonora began, looking from
face to expectant face. “Before anything else, I must offer a
profound apology to you, Andrea, and to you, Giovanni, for the
hatred I have held against your father and for my stubborn belief
that he, whom I knew to be a man of honor, would stoop to commit or
to condone a treacherous assassination.”

“Madonna Eleonora, please,” Andrea
interrupted, “there is no need for this apology.”

“Allow me to continue, Andrea. This is part
of my penance.”

“Then, by all means, madonna, say what you
must.”

“I have in the past spoken unkind words to
both of you young men, and I have made rash accusations against
you. I am sorry.” For all her professed regret, Eleonora’s head was
still held high and she did not tremble or reveal any other sign of
deep distress as she spoke. She looked anything but penitent. She
looked, in fact, like a duchess holding court, and Andrea and Vanni
both smiled at her pride, for they understood that emotion, having
a fair share of it themselves.

“Madonna Eleonora, I accept your apology in
my father’s name as well as for myself, and I thank you for it,”
Andrea said with formal gravity when she was done.

“And so do I,” Vanni added. Then, before
Eleonora could go on, Vanni said, “This seems an auspicious moment
in which to renew my suit for Bianca’s hand.”

“Indeed?” Eleonora looked down her nose at
him. Her eyebrows rose by an inch or so. “Francesco has told me
several times that you are not as frivolous as you appear to
be.”

“No, I am not,” Vanni said. “Madonna
Eleonora, you of all people will understand when I say that in any
court, even the respectable court my father maintained, there are
always opposing factions struggling for power and for the
friendship, or at least the confidence, of the ruler. In such a
climate, twin sons are a danger.

“To prevent any group from using Andrea and
me against each other or against our father, as soon as we were old
enough to understand the situation, our father himself advised us
to allow the world to believe that my only interests were elegant
food, fine wines, pretty women, rich clothing, and grandiose
displays of wealth. If I could appear to be frivolous enough,
Father hoped no one would attempt to set me in power over Andrea’s
slain body. In truth, it was not a difficult masquerade for me. I
only had to emphasize certain of my real interests, and besides, I
never had any desire to rule Aullia.”

“Yet you seized Monteferro, and you do rule
there,” Eleonora stated rather coolly.

“Monteferro I will rule for Bianca’s sake
only, and with her help if you will permit us to marry, madonna,
for I do perceive how well you have taught her to assume the role
of duchess. You will find me ever loyal to your daughter. In fact,
I love Bianca so well that I will never be capable of causing her
any distress.”

“You are a man,” Eleonora responded to this
passionate declaration. “Therefore, in one way or another, you will
cause her distress.”

“No, madonna, I assure you,” Vanni cried. It
was plain that he wanted to say more on the subject, but Eleonora
cut him off, addressing herself to the priest.

“You see, Father Tomaso, the impetuosity with
which I have been dealing of late,” Eleonora said. A corner of her
mouth turned upward as if she was fighting the urge to laugh. “Now
that you have heard this young man’s pleas, do you still agree with
my decision?”

“Certainly, Madonna Eleonora, I see no other
path for a responsible mother to take.” Father Tomaso’s face was
grave, but his wise old eyes were dancing with a humor that more
than matched Eleonora’s own.

“Very well, then, since I have the approval
of the Church,” Eleonora said. “Bianca?”

“Yes, Mother?”

“You are to wed the Duke of Monteferro. Do
not object. It is your duty to obey the wishes of your elders.”

“Yes, Mother.” Bianca looked stunned to be so
easily given the permission for which she had been prepared to
fight. She recovered quickly, however, and smiled and put her hand
into Vanni’s.

“We will waive the banns,” Eleonora informed
the company. “The ceremony will take place as soon as the contract
is signed. Rosalinda, take your sister upstairs and find her
something suitable to wear. Valeria, make up Bianca’s bed with
clean sheets. Her room will do very nicely for a bridal chamber. We
will forego a grand wedding feast in favor of a formal reception
once we are in Monteferro.”

“Mother, what are you saying?” Bianca
cried.

“That you and Vanni will be married tonight,”
Eleonora replied.

“Madonna, the hour,” Father Tomaso
protested.

“I know it is already far advanced,” Eleonora
told him, “but I believe we can have all in readiness by midnight.
Bianca and Vanni will be married shortly after the new day begins.
Then, Father Tomaso, you can return to your village, and the
newlyweds will be on their way to Monteferro by dawn.”

Only a
rather lewd laugh from Francesco halted Eleonora’s fevered
planning. She turned to the
condottiere
with a questioning look.

“Ah, madonna, I do admire you,” Francesco
said. “How I wish I could order my soldiers as skillfully as you
arrange the lives of those around you. Will you allow me to make a
pertinent suggestion?”

“What is it?” Eleonora regarded him with some
indignation over his interruption.

“
As you
predicted, and thanks to your good care, my wound is healing
quickly and cleanly,” Francesco said. “If you will postpone the
journey to Monteferro for a day or two, I will be sufficiently
recovered to accompany you. The delay will also give Vanni and
Bianca at least a brief time to – er, become more intimately
acquainted. Which is, if you will recall from your own history, an
important aspect of a successful marriage.”

“A point well made, Francesco,” Vanni said.
He grinned his thanks at his friend, who winked back at him.
“Madonna Eleonora, we will not depart for Monteferro until the day
after tomorrow, and we will leave then only if my sweet Bianca
agrees to do so.”

“But there are arrangements to be made for
your formal entry into the city with your duchess,” Eleonora
protested.

“Since I am Duke of Monteferro, it is for me
to make the arrangements,” Vanni told her. “I shall do so with the
help of my wife, and of my brother and ally, the Duke of Aullia,”
he finished with a firmness that made Eleonora look at him with new
respect.

“Have you any objection to the wedding plans
I have put forward?” Eleonora asked him in a gentler tone.

“None at all,” Vanni said. “I do thank you,
Madonna Eleonora, for understanding how eager I am to marry your
daughter. Bianca, have you any objection to wedding me this
night?”

“Oh, no.” Bianca’s face was aglow, and her
blue eyes were shining. She looked at Vanni as if she wanted to
throw her arms around him. Instead, she made a graceful curtsy to
him. “Thank you for your consideration of me, my lord.”

“Bianca, I will always consider your wishes,”
Vanni told her. “If you and Rosalinda will leave us now, your
mother and I will settle the terms of our marriage contract. Then
we will meet to start our lives together when the new day
begins.”

* * * * *

“Rosalinda, I must speak with you.”

“Not now, Andrea. Bianca needs me.” Rosalinda
shook off Andrea’s restraining hand on her arm and started across
the hall. On the stairs, Bianca looked down at them, nodded, and
continued on her way to her room.

“
Rosalinda,” Andrea said again, “you must know that
I—”

“Rosalinda, what are you doing, dawdling
here?” Valeria cried, coming out of the sitting room in a rush. “We
have so much to do that I am quite distracted. Andrea, I believe
your brother would be glad of your presence while the terms of the
marriage contract are decided.”

“Francesco is there to back Vanni if he needs
support,” Andrea said, his eyes on Rosalinda, who seemed determined
not to look directly at him.

“Andrea?” Vanni appeared in the sitting room
doorway. “Would you mind joining us?”

“In a moment, Vanni.” Andrea sounded
distinctly frustrated. “Rosalinda, please.”

From the sitting room came the sound of
Eleonora’s raised voice, followed by Francesco’s deeper, but still
agitated tones, and then Bartolomeo’s more measured words.

“Rosalinda, your mother is a hard woman,”
Vanni said, running a hand through his dark, curly hair. “And
Francesco is just as difficult. I am caught between them.”

“Andrea,” Rosalinda said, “your brother needs
you, as my sister needs me. Whatever you have to say to me must
wait.” She headed for the stairs with Valeria at her side.

“Damnation.” Andrea scowled and raked his
hand through his hair in a gesture remarkably like the one his
brother had just used. “What am I to do, Vanni? I cannot get a
moment alone with her. I am beginning to believe she is avoiding
me.”

“Surely, she cannot doubt your affection for
her,” Vanni said.