Murder in the Garden of God by Eleanor Herman

“Furnishings have reached such heights of excessive luxury that nowadays the objects used in villas [rustic country estates] greatly surpass those adopted by our greatest, and some of our most noble, citizens, only a few years ago in our capital cities.” 4
    Paolo Giordano’s palaces would have used expensive white beeswax candles, rather than the rancid tallow candles made from animal fat that Camilla probably used. Even the nobility found candles to be costly and used them judiciously. In winter, candles were not lit until sunset, and then only two to a room for the occupied parts of the piano nobile. In summer, they were rarely used at all, as the master and mistress usually went to bed with the late-setting sun. Candle stubs were carefully gathered up and melted into new candles.
    But Paolo Giordano would have thrown caution to the wind when he gave a dinner party or ball. Candelabras would have brightened the tables and sideboards of his reception rooms. Dozens of candles would have been set in chandeliers on ropes that could be lowered so the servants could put in fresh candles, light them, and haul the chandelier up. Even if Paolo Giordano didn’t pay his chandler for years, his use of so many candles would have made a clear statement – here was a man to be reckoned with.
    All of the duke’s palaces had stables full of horses, and at least three cats – the kitchen cat, the store room cat, and a cat to patrol the wardrobe so mice didn’t eat the clothes. But his country estates would also have had kennels for hunting dogs and mews for hawks. These blood sports had a coded message for the duke’s guests. As he cornered and skewered boar and deer, he was letting his visitors know he was fully capable of cornering and skewering them, too, if they angered him. And when his hawks snapped the neck of a bird, it mirrored the fact that Paolo Giordano could easily snap the necks of his enemies in his hamfisted hands, just as he had his wife’s.
    As the duchess of Bracciano, Vittoria would obtain an exquisite wardrobe, the kinds of clothing she had been pining for during her entire marriage to Francesco. A nobleman’s wife was the embodiment of family honor, and the whole Orsini clan would be dishonored if she, as the duchess, appeared in anything less than breathtaking.
    One important gown could involve a network of artisans and take a year to produce. The silk, satin, or velvet would be purchased from one retailer, the lining perhaps from another. Sometimes the material was taken to a dyer to obtain a special color. Buttons were obtained from a button seller. Eyelets and laces, which usually contained precious metals, were purchased from a gold or silversmith. Fringes and ribbons were sold by a notions merchant. Furriers provided the edge of fox or mink on the sleeves or hem.
    Embroiderers worked solid silver and gold thread into vines, flowers, and coats of arms. Jewelers provided pearls and rubies to be sewn on. And let us not forget the tailor. Sometimes the transactions were so complex that an accountant and lawyer were hired to keep track of the contracts, deposits, and delivery dates. Such a gown was an investment rather than a frivolity. If hard cash were suddenly required, the gown could be picked apart, and the jewels, fur, gold thread, and material sold for healthy sums.
    The finest materials and dyes came from Venice. The scarlet red extracted from the pregnant kermes beetle was the most popular and expensive color in the Renaissance. Dyeing one pound of silk with kermes red cost three times as much as producing buttercup yellow or cornflower blue. Other popular and expensive colors were black, purple, and dark blue-violet.
    Sleeves were laced onto the shoulder of the bodice and could be removed if the lady were alone in her chamber in hot weather. Removable sleeves offered an infinite number of possibilities in mixing and matching. A black gown might be enlivened by red sleeves, a purple gown with green