city gates and reached the convent Ilario said, “You will want us to wait,
signora
?”
She nodded wordlessly, and then hurried through the small gate that opened to her knock. Less than an hour later, she exited, reentered the litter, and softly directed him back to the market square, where she paid him double the fee and hurried off. Coming forth from the church several minutes later, the hood no longer shielding her face, she walked slowly across the piazza to enter her house.
Fabia greeted her. “You made good time,
signora
,” she said lowly. “The beast has not arrived yet, and the master is just now getting up.”
Orianna nodded. “Is he aware I have been gone?” she asked.
“I believe so, for you slept in his bed last night,” Fabia responded, and then she chuckled. “His servingman said he awoke smiling and in good humor.”
“Tell the servants to feed him well, for he will want a full belly when he has to deal with that monster. Then come and help me change my gown.”
“Yes,
signora
,” Fabia said. “The young mistress was all right this morning?”
“She says she slept well for the first time in months, knowing she was safe,” Orianna said. Then she hurried off to her apartments. Seeing Francesca skulking about, she called to her second daughter and the girl came to her. “You will remain in the nursery rooms with your sisters and little brothers until I tell you that you may come out. I will warn the servants to watch for you. If you are seen outside your apartments, Francesca, I will personally whip you. Not your father, who is too softhearted, but I will myself wield the switch. Do you understand, my daughter?” The mother looked sternly at her young daughter.
“Is it about Bianca?” Francesca asked.
“Do you understand me?” Orianna repeated quietly.
“Yes,
Madre
,” came the reluctant reply.
“I will walk with you to your quarters.” And taking Francesca’s hand, the mother led the daughter to where she needed to be. Stepping into the nursery of her house, she instructed the three nursemaids as to her wishes, with a special admonishment to Francesca’s servant. “If she is caught outside of this room, you will receive a whipping too,” she warned the woman, who adored and indulged her charge.
“Yes,
signora
,” the woman said, “but sometimes the child can be so persuasive.”
“When you feel yourself yielding,” Orianna said with a small amused smile touching her lips, “consider the cut of the switch on your plump bottom.”
“Yes,
signora
!”
“Good! It is important that the household remain silent,” she said, giving them her final word. Then she left the nursery quarters of her home to go to her own apartments, where Fabia was already awaiting her.
The servingwoman had laid out three gowns for her mistress’s approval.
“The black makes me look sallow and weak,” Orianna remarked. “The burgundy is too festive for this occasion. I like the medium blue, but it is too beautifully adorned. Find me a simple gown that is elegant but will not imply that his visit to my house is an honor.”
“You have a dark brown velvet that is plain. The embroidery along the neckline is black,” Fabia said. “It makes you appear stern, and perhaps even a bit older than you are. With the gold crucifix your father sent you last year to commemorate your natal day, it will give you an imposing appearance.”
“Yes, that will do,” Orianna agreed.
When Fabia finished dressing her mistress and arranging her auburn hair into an elegant chignon, she helped her lady fasten the crucifix about her neck. Then stepping back, she nodded. “It is perfect,
signora
.”
A rap sounded at the bedchamber door, and Giovanni Pietro d’Angelo stepped into the room. He was garbed as soberly as his wife, but in black. He nodded, pleased by her appearance. Then he held out his hand to her. “Come,
cara mia
. He is here and awaits us in my library.”
She took his hand and
signora
?”
She nodded wordlessly, and then hurried through the small gate that opened to her knock. Less than an hour later, she exited, reentered the litter, and softly directed him back to the market square, where she paid him double the fee and hurried off. Coming forth from the church several minutes later, the hood no longer shielding her face, she walked slowly across the piazza to enter her house.
Fabia greeted her. “You made good time,
signora
,” she said lowly. “The beast has not arrived yet, and the master is just now getting up.”
Orianna nodded. “Is he aware I have been gone?” she asked.
“I believe so, for you slept in his bed last night,” Fabia responded, and then she chuckled. “His servingman said he awoke smiling and in good humor.”
“Tell the servants to feed him well, for he will want a full belly when he has to deal with that monster. Then come and help me change my gown.”
“Yes,
signora
,” Fabia said. “The young mistress was all right this morning?”
“She says she slept well for the first time in months, knowing she was safe,” Orianna said. Then she hurried off to her apartments. Seeing Francesca skulking about, she called to her second daughter and the girl came to her. “You will remain in the nursery rooms with your sisters and little brothers until I tell you that you may come out. I will warn the servants to watch for you. If you are seen outside your apartments, Francesca, I will personally whip you. Not your father, who is too softhearted, but I will myself wield the switch. Do you understand, my daughter?” The mother looked sternly at her young daughter.
“Is it about Bianca?” Francesca asked.
“Do you understand me?” Orianna repeated quietly.
“Yes,
Madre
,” came the reluctant reply.
“I will walk with you to your quarters.” And taking Francesca’s hand, the mother led the daughter to where she needed to be. Stepping into the nursery of her house, she instructed the three nursemaids as to her wishes, with a special admonishment to Francesca’s servant. “If she is caught outside of this room, you will receive a whipping too,” she warned the woman, who adored and indulged her charge.
“Yes,
signora
,” the woman said, “but sometimes the child can be so persuasive.”
“When you feel yourself yielding,” Orianna said with a small amused smile touching her lips, “consider the cut of the switch on your plump bottom.”
“Yes,
signora
!”
“Good! It is important that the household remain silent,” she said, giving them her final word. Then she left the nursery quarters of her home to go to her own apartments, where Fabia was already awaiting her.
The servingwoman had laid out three gowns for her mistress’s approval.
“The black makes me look sallow and weak,” Orianna remarked. “The burgundy is too festive for this occasion. I like the medium blue, but it is too beautifully adorned. Find me a simple gown that is elegant but will not imply that his visit to my house is an honor.”
“You have a dark brown velvet that is plain. The embroidery along the neckline is black,” Fabia said. “It makes you appear stern, and perhaps even a bit older than you are. With the gold crucifix your father sent you last year to commemorate your natal day, it will give you an imposing appearance.”
“Yes, that will do,” Orianna agreed.
When Fabia finished dressing her mistress and arranging her auburn hair into an elegant chignon, she helped her lady fasten the crucifix about her neck. Then stepping back, she nodded. “It is perfect,
signora
.”
A rap sounded at the bedchamber door, and Giovanni Pietro d’Angelo stepped into the room. He was garbed as soberly as his wife, but in black. He nodded, pleased by her appearance. Then he held out his hand to her. “Come,
cara mia
. He is here and awaits us in my library.”
She took his hand and
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