Rose Red (42 page)

The officials who had ridden out to meet them
were all richly dressed and jeweled, as were the men and women from
Villa Serenita. It was a dazzling cavalcade that formed an hour or
so later under the direction of Luca Nardi. At the head of this
splendid procession, the Duke of Monteferro and his new duchess
entered their city, riding side by side through the main gate and
along the broad thoroughfare to the piazza and the cathedral.

Every building along the way was hung with
brilliant banners, their designs combining the gold Farisi eagle on
a green background with the Sotani emblem of three stars on a red
ground. Garlands of flowers stretched across the streets just above
the riders’ heads, and every citizen had turned out to cheer the
handsome young duke and his beautiful lady. Befitting the great
occasion, the service held in the cathedral was appropriately long
and solemn, and the reception that followed at the ducal palace was
longer still.

“How strange it is to return after so many
years,” Bianca whispered to Rosalinda shortly after they entered
the great reception room. “It appears very different from the room
I recall on the last occasion when I saw it.”

“And different from the room our mother
described to us,” Rosalinda added. “I am sure it has been
redecorated at least twice since you were last in it. Bianca, does
it cause you pain to be here?”

“I expected to be disturbed, but I am not,”
Bianca said. “The memory of our father’s death will always sadden
me, but I do believe he would rejoice to see us all here
today.”

“Indeed, he would,” said Eleonora, who had
overheard this conversation. “This is the life for which I trained
you, Bianca. Go now to stand beside your husband while you greet
the dignitaries.” She watched with a satisfied smile as Bianca
crossed the room to where Vanni waited for her.

Eleonora, who had been welcomed back to
Monteferro like a dowager queen returning to her kingdom in
triumph, looked happier than Rosalinda could remember ever seeing
her, and Bianca was moving through her tedious duties with grace
and effortless tact. But Rosalinda was soon tired. The hall where
the official banquet was held after the reception was hot, with no
breeze to alleviate the effects of too many heavy perfumes. The
food was over-rich and there was too much of it. Rosalinda began to
fear the long parade of courses would never end.

Whenever she and Andrea had come face to face
during the interminable day, he had spoken only the shortest, most
formal words to her and he appeared to be distracted. Knowing from
what Luca Nardi had told her that Andrea had taken the
responsibility for the success of the day’s ceremonies on his own
shoulders, Rosalinda tried to be understanding. Still, she wished
he would spare a few moments for her, to make her feel personally
welcomed to the palace where she was now to live and to promise
there would soon be time for them to hold a private conversation.
That he did not only convinced her of his lack of any true interest
in her.

The sight
of Andrea engaged in laughing conversation with a lovely – and
slender – young woman only increased Rosalinda’s distress. By the
time evening arrived, she was more convinced than ever that the
fear she had once voiced to Bianca was true. Andrea had played with
her affections and his only concern with her now lay in the
advantage that a cold-hearted political alliance would bring him.
That being so, if a more brilliant marriage was offered by a
powerful family, Andrea would turn from Rosalinda without a second
thought.

When, at last, well after midnight, the
ladies assigned to attend Rosalinda had formally escorted her to
her bedchamber, when she had sent all of them away, insisting to
their scandalized shock that she wanted to be left alone, she still
could find no peace from the worries that plagued her. She had
ordered her ladies to open the windows before they left her. The
noises of a busy city were jarring to one who was accustomed to the
quiet country. When Rosalinda went to the window to look out, she
could not see the mountains, but only the lights of Monteferro.
Never in her life had she felt so lost, or so lonely.

Nor did the passing of time lessen
Rosalinda’s sense of isolation. The ensuing days brought more
receptions and more long banquets, during which Andrea treated her
with cool, formal respect but never spoke a word to her on any
personal subject. It was Bianca who told her that Vanni and Andrea
were spending many hours each day working on a treaty between
Monteferro and Aullia, with Eleonora, Francesco, and Luca Nardi in
attendance to offer advice.

While the men and Eleonora were thus
occupied, Rosalinda and Bianca were often together, but they were
always surrounded by retainers and would-be friends, and by so many
people begging Bianca to use her influence with Vanni to convince
him to agree to some favor, that the sisters were not free to
engage in the private talks they had always taken for granted.

As the new duke’s sister-in-law, who was
known to be on excellent terms with him, Rosalinda was not
overlooked by eager petitioners. On the afternoon when an
overdressed courtier drew her aside and subjected her to a long,
whining speech imploring her to talk to Vanni about giving him an
office at court, Rosalinda had had enough. She broke away from the
courtier, leaving him to stare after her in astonishment at her
brusqueness.

Making her way through the press of people in
the duchess’s reception room, Rosalinda caught Bianca by one hand,
pulling her out of the group surrounding her. Rosalinda did not
stop until she and Bianca were standing in a niche beside a window
where, Rosalinda hoped, they could have a moment of privacy.

“Go away. Leave us!” she snapped at a lady
who stuck by Bianca’s side. “I want to talk to my sister alone.

“I am stifled here,” Rosalinda said, turning
to Bianca. “I can’t breathe for all the people. It is too noisy. I
cannot see the mountains.” She paused, trying to control the
trembling of her lower lip.

“It is certainly a great change from our
former life,” Bianca agreed. “I am sure you will grow used to it,
in time.”

“
Never!
I’ll die if I stay here. I am going home – to my real home, to
Villa Serenita.”

“You can’t do that,” Bianca protested.

“I am telling you so you won’t worry about me
or wonder where I am.” Rosalinda was not going to argue about her
decision. Her mind was made up and she would not change it. “I
don’t think anyone else will miss me. They are all so busy, they
won’t even notice I have gone. Even you are occupied every hour of
the day. And at night you have Vanni to talk to, though even then
you don’t have any real privacy. Everyone at court gossips about
the fact that Vanni spends every night with you.”

“A duchess does live a remarkably public
life,” Bianca said. “And I do have more duties than I
expected.”

“
That’s
just it,” Rosalinda said. “I have nothing useful to do here. At
Villa Serenita, I can oversee the harvest and direct the women in
putting aside food for the winter. Since Bartolomeo and Valeria
have come to Monteferro with Mother, I can take their places at
home. As for Mother, she is so preoccupied with statecraft, and
with Francesco, that she hasn’t even noticed that I am – that I -”
Rosalinda bit back tears. While her sister watched her with worried
eyes, Rosalinda lifted her head and tried to give the appearance of
restored composure.

“
Oh, my
dearest, I did not realize just how unhappy you have been,” Bianca
whispered. ‘‘Perhaps if you and Andrea could settle matters between
you—”

“He does not love me,” Rosalinda interrupted
in a fierce whisper. “If he did, he would not be so polite and
distant when we meet. He would talk to me and listen to what I have
to say. He would put his arms around me and kiss me and hold me
close. And then, when he did caress me, he would know why I have
been so difficult and unhappy.”

“I am not sure about that,” said Bianca. “I
have only been married for a little more than three weeks, yet
already I understand that men must be told, and then told again,
the simplest truths that women understand by intuition. Vanni is
the most considerate of husbands, and I love him with all my heart,
but on several occasions I have been forced to a most unladylike
directness in dealing with him. And to unflinching persistence when
he does not understand at once. Of course, when he does comprehend
my exact desire, he always gives me what I want,” Bianca finished
with a chuckle and a slight blush.

“I cannot simply walk up to Andrea and make
an announcement,” Rosalinda said. “He is constantly surrounded by
people. Just as you are. Here comes a man now, who looks eager to
interrupt our conversation.”

“Madonna Bianca.” The approaching courtier
bowed low. “The duke has asked me to inform you that the
representatives of Venice are arriving at the palace gate. The duke
requests your presence in the large audience chamber when he greets
the delegation.”

“I will be there immediately. You may go,
Vincenzo,” Bianca said in a firm voice when the man did not move.
“I will first finish my conversation with my sister.”

“As you wish, madonna.” With a frowning
glance at Rosalinda, the man backed away.

“I am keeping you from your duties,”
Rosalinda said.

“Don’t worry. It will do the Venetians good
to have to wait for a while. Everyone else caters to their wishes.
We will not, and thus we will gain their respect.”

“You make a remarkable duchess. Mother’s
stern training seems to be serving you well.” Rosalinda smiled, but
quickly became serious again. “Don’t try to stop me from leaving,
Bianca. I am going to take with me Lorenzo and Maria who, according
to Maria, are both eager to go home, and one other man-at-arms who
is also homesick. We will depart in early morning.”

“I don’t think you should be alone at Villa
Serenita,” Bianca objected.

“I won’t be alone. Most of our men-at-arms
and their families are still living there. Like me, they have no
desire for city life.”

“Vanni says the ducal palace at Aullia is set
in a large and very beautiful garden,” Bianca remarked with studied
casualness.

“I don’t care if it is set in Paradise!”
Rosalinda exclaimed. “I have no intention of going to Aullia, nor
will I marry a man who regards me as nothing more than the prize
for his military accomplishments, and who thinks he can ignore me
whenever he pleases. His actions prove that Andrea does not love
me.”

“I think you are wrong, Rosalinda. I can see
you are overwrought, and I wish you would change your mind about
leaving.”

“I won’t.”

“My dearest, you are more like our mother
than you realize,” Bianca said. “You are every bit as stubborn as
she is. Once an idea has fixed itself in your mind, you will not
let it go. You may be as wrong about Andrea as Mother was about
Andrea’s father. What will you do if, like Mother, it takes fifteen
long years for you to learn the truth? And consider this,
Rosalinda: Andrea will want to produce an heir. Whether it is you
or another lady, he will marry soon.”

“Vanni’s man is still waiting for you,
Bianca. Your husband requires your presence.” Rosalinda tried not
to let Bianca see how that last verbal thrust had hurt her, and all
the more because it was true. Andrea would have to marry before
long. Rosalinda recalled the ache in her heart when she had
observed him talking and laughing with a pretty woman. The thought
of Andrea naked and clasped in another woman’s embrace nearly
brought Rosalinda to her knees. But she would not be deterred from
the course she had set for herself. If Andrea did not love her as
she wanted to be loved, then she would live the rest of her life at
Villa Serenita and never see him again. Bianca had insisted on a
declaration of passionate love from Vanni before agreeing to wed
him. Rosalinda would settle for no less.

“Good-bye, Bianca,” Rosalinda said. “Will you
come to me when my baby is born?”

“Of course I will.” Bianca’s blue eyes were
too bright, her smile too obviously forced as she fought against
the tears she would not shed in public, before the courtiers. “I
promised to be with you when your time comes, and I will keep my
promise. The Duke and Duchess of Monteferro will spend
Christmastide and Epiphany at Villa Serenita, enjoying a private
celebration with their families. And if you still wish it when that
time comes, I will swear Vanni to secrecy.”

“Thank you. I love you, dearest sister,”
Rosalinda whispered.

Bianca kissed Rosalinda lightly, as if they
were parting for no more than the afternoon and evening, and then
she went away with Vanni’s waiting courtier.

* * * * *

“Where is she?” Andrea strode into Bianca’s
private reception room like a warrior charging into battle,
scattering ladies in waiting, serving women, and astonished male
courtiers to left and right.

“Where is who, my lord?” Bianca faced him
calmly, hands folded in tranquil grace at the high waist of her
dark blue silk gown. Pearls were wound through the braids piled
high on her head, more pearls hung from her earlobes, and a heavy
gold cross served as the pendant on her pearl necklace. With the
composure of a woman secure in her position, Bianca regarded the
angry man before her as if he were a peculiar but fascinating
animal.

“Where is Rosalinda?” Andrea demanded.

“Can’t you find her?” Bianca smiled at him,
hoping to infuriate him still more. If Andrea became angry enough,
he might begin to comprehend just how deeply he cared for
Rosalinda, and how badly he had neglected her over the past few
weeks. It was clear to Bianca that her brother-in-law needed to
admit to himself that he loved her sister with all the fire and
passion of which the Sotani brothers were capable. Only then would
Andrea be able to convince Rosalinda of his love.