Sabina

by C. De Melo

  “And you, Signore Lorenzo, have obviously inherited your refined taste from them. Thank you for showing me your beautiful chapel.”

  Tommaso said, “Lorenzo, you are spoiling my wife.”

  As they retreated to rejoin the other guests, Sabina noticed fragile crystal vases with silver handles, a display of delicately carved cameos encased in copper, and bejeweled boxes crafted of silver. It seemed as if everywhere one looked, there was something to delight the eyes.

  The festivities continued well into the night with dancing and singing. Even though Florence had a strict curfew and everyone was expected to be indoors after sunset, the Medici and their guests were immune to the law.

  At one point during the evening, Sabina caught Clarice staring at her. Clarice averted her gaze quickly, almost nervously. Sabina thought it odd. The woman’s matronly appearance was overshadowed by the primness she displayed during the festivities by refusing to dance or participate in rowdy conversations. She kept quietly to herself as though in disapproval of the entire affair, while Lorenzo laughed and mingled amiably with the guests.

  When the time came for Sabina and Tommaso to take their leave and thank their hosts, Lorenzo held Sabina’s hand—lingering for a few minutes—as he invited them to return soon. If Tommaso noticed Lorenzo’s overt flirtation, he made no mention of it as they melted into the night and made their way home.

  Chapter 5

  Although the Signoria was the city’s House of Lords where laws were created and implemented, the Palazzo Medici swarmed with politicians and other prominent members of Florentine society on a regular basis. Decisions regarding the city’s policies were discussed at length with Lorenzo before any official action was taken by the Signoria. In fact, whenever a foreign dignitary visited Florence he was expected to announce his presence at the Palazzo Medici before stepping foot in the Signoria. This silent code of ethics was acceptable to the majority, especially since Lorenzo gave them little choice to do otherwise. Tommaso, who had always played an important role in Florentine politics, spent about as much time in the Medici household as he did his own.

  In addition to being the city’s political center, the Palazzo Medici was a platform to launch newly discovered talent. On the occasions that Lorenzo wished musicians, artists, philosophers, writers, or poets to entertain his intimate friends, Sabina was permitted to accompany Tommaso to the Palazzo Medici and socialize freely with the other ladies present. The ever-reserved Clarice and her ladies-in-waiting were usually nearby, quietly sewing or reading prayer books, but seldom did they mingle or contribute to conversations.

  One sunny day in late November, Sabina accompanied her husband to the Palazzo Medici for a dinner followed by a concerto. Lorenzo needed to speak privately with Tommaso regarding a legal matter, so Sabina was asked to wait in the garden. Relishing the opportunity to explore more of the magnificent palazzo, she walked outside. Two ladies sat on a bench, deeply engrossed in conversation. Not wishing to disturb them, she went to sit on an empty bench by a fountain.

  A moment later, a pretty young woman with blonde curly hair and blue eyes approached her. In a high-pitched voice, she inquired, “May I sit with you?”

  “Certainly,” Sabina replied, moving over to afford her more room.

  “I’ve seen you from afar a few times, but haven’t had the chance to speak with you. My name is Angelina Bardi.”

  “It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Signora Angelina.”

  “Signorina,” Angelina corrected. “I know your husband is a loyal supporter of the Medici and the Signoria holds him in high esteem. He’s a man respected by many.” When Sabina expressed mild surprise, she added, “I make it my business to know everything about everyone.”

  “I see.”

  “Do you like the arts?” Angelina asked, changing the subject.

  “Very much.”

  “Painting, sculpture, music, or literature?”

  “All of them, I suppose.”

  “Which is your favorite?”

  Although Sabina didn’t appreciate the young woman’s tone, she replied, “I would have to say literature.”

  “Humph.” Sabina waited for her to say more, but she did not. Instead, she asked, “Have you met Clarice?”

  “Yes, of course.”

  “Terribly dull, is she not? Lacks fashion sense as well,” Angelina mused aloud as she smoothed the skirt of her pink velvet gown.

  “She is rather quiet,” Sabina said neutrally.

  “I didn’t say she’s quiet, I said she’s dull. There’s a difference.”

  “To be honest, I haven’t spent as much time with our hostess as you obviously have.”

  “One doesn’t need to spend much time with Clarice to discover that she has the personality of a dead fish.”

  Sabina felt suddenly uncomfortable and tried to think of a reason to excuse herself from Angelina’s company. She felt it was a terrible breach of etiquette to speak ill of their hostess. Besides, who was this woman? If she wasn’t at the palazzo accompanied by her husband, what was she doing here in the first place?

  Noticing Sabina’s slight frown, Angelina asked sweetly, “Who is your seamstress? Every time I see you, I’m simply enchanted by your fine garments.”

  “My seamstress is Donna Maria.”

  “I should have known. She has made many gowns for me, too. Perhaps we should pass her name along to Clarice so she can get out of those nun habits.”

  Clarice and her ladies-in-waiting entered the garden and sat on the benches located beneath a sprawling fig tree.

  Sabina noticed how Angelina’s eyes narrowed at the sight of Lorenzo’s wife. Clarice pulled out what appeared to be a prayer book and began to read while some of her ladies did needlepoint. A woman of graceful stature with light brown hair and intelligent eyes entered the garden soon afterward, causing the ladies to look up from their task. Clarice glared at the woman, compelling her to turn around and reenter the palazzo.

  Filled with burning curiosity, Sabina whispered, “Who was that?”

  “No one of importance,” Angelina replied sourly. Then, as an afterthought, she demanded, “Do you think her beautiful?”

  “She is quite attractive.”

  “You do know who she is, don’t you?”

  “Angelina!”

  Both women turned around to see a good-looking young man standing a few feet away from them. His blonde hair shone in the sunlight and his big hazel eyes were fixed on Angelina.

  “Giovanni, where have you been hiding?” Angelina chided playfully.

  “I was looking for you,” he replied in a whiny voice.

  “I’ve been here, speaking with my new friend. Now, go inside and wait for me. There’s to be a concerto this afternoon with a musical prodigy recently discovered by Lorenzo.” Then, turning to Sabina, she added, “He has such a gift for finding good talent, don’t you agree?”

  “Yes.”

  Angelina frowned at Giovanni, who was still standing in the same spot. As if commanding a dog, she pointed to the palazzo’s entrance. “Go!”

  Defeated, Giovanni shuffled away.

  Sabina hid her shock as she inquired, “Is he your betrothed?”

  Angelina laughed. “Him? Oh, no!” She eyed Sabina intently. “Signore Tommaso Caravelli is a good man. You’re fortunate that your father made such a fine match. I only hope that my father does the same for me.”

  “I’m sure your father will choose someone appropriate for you.”

  Angelina took one of Sabina’s hands. “I’m so happy to have finally met you. One should always be selective when choosing social companions, and I have a feeling that you and I shall become good friends.”

  The display of camaraderie was a bit premature, but Sabina smiled.

  “I better not keep Giovanni waiting too long,” Angelina said with a mischievous grin. “I do hope to see you again soon.”

  Later, while Sabina and her husband partook of the midday meal, she inquired, “What do y
ou know about Angelina Bardi?”

  “Why do you ask?”

  “I met her in the garden and she seemed intent on becoming fast friends.”

  Tommaso rolled his eyes. “Angelina is the spoiled daughter of one of my colleagues—she’s also a notorious gossip. You should be wary of that one.”

  “Because she likes to gossip?”

  He broke off a piece of bread and put it in his mouth. “No, because she’s rumored to be a whore.”

  “Is it true or is it just a rumor?”

  “There is usually some truth in rumors.”

  “Perhaps,” she mused as she picked at her roasted venison.

  “Either way, it’s unfitting for my wife to keep close company with such a woman.” The corners of his lips lifted. “Besides, you may frighten her.”

  “Frighten her? How?”

  “You are the Tempesta, are you not? It would only be a matter of time before she felt the sting of your sharp tongue.”

  “Is that what you really think of me?”

  “No, my sweet, I’m only teasing you. I believe that marriage has tamed you, but only a little bit.”

  “Why is Angelina wandering alone throughout the palazzo?’ Sabina pressed, returning to the former topic. “It’s most inappropriate for an unmarried girl her age.”

  “It most certainly is,” he assured her. “Her father is a distant cousin of Lorenzo’s mother, so she’s considered a family member.”

  “Such a far-off familial relation is dubious.”

  “True, but her father is a wealthy and valuable supporter of Lorenzo. Angelina insists on accompanying him when he comes to the Palazzo Medici, and he usually gives in to his daughter’s whims.”

  “He indulges her too much.”

  “I agree with you. Angelina should be home practicing her embroidery, as should you.”

  “Tommaso!”

  “I only jest. Is there anything else you wish to know, my insatiably curious wife?”

  Sabina’s cheeks reddened. “No.”

  “Good. Now please allow me to eat so that I may get back to business,” he chided. “This morning’s affairs are still unresolved, so we must meet again this afternoon.”

  “What about the concerto? Will you make it in time?”

  He shook his head. “I had planned on attending, but I cannot. I will be occupied well into the evening.”

  Sabina’s face fell in disappointment. “Does that mean I must go home?”

  “You should stay and enjoy the concerto,” he replied, much to her surprise. “I’ll send word for Teresa and my men to meet you here. They will accompany you home when it’s over.”

  “Thank you.”

  Afterward, Sabina chatted with some of the ladies as they waited for the concerto to commence. It was to be held in the salon, which supposedly had excellent acoustics. Sabina took a seat and watched as the room filled with guests. She noticed that Angelina was missing.

  Lorenzo, who stole away from his many responsibilities to see his protégé perform, came into the crowded room late and took his reserved seat in the front row. Angelina came in immediately afterward with flushed cheeks and slightly disheveled hair. Both appeared to be out of breath, as if they had run down the corridor. Sabina scanned the room and noticed that Clarice was not in attendance.

  The musician played the lute with great skill and sang in a sublime voice. Lorenzo greeted his guests at the performance’s end, yet appeared to go out of his way to ignore Angelina.

  He kissed Sabina’s hand. “My dear Sabina. Enchanting, as usual, I see. One might say you look almost dangerous.”

  “Dangerous?” she repeated, taken aback.

  His eyes glittered with mischief. “Beauty is a weapon and, when coupled with intelligence, it makes a woman powerful. I consider anyone with that kind of influence to be dangerous.”

  Sabina flushed to the roots of her hair. “You exaggerate, sir.”

  Grinning, he inquired, “What did you think of the performance?”

  “It was wonderful, thank you for inviting me. Your protégé is truly gifted.”

  “See? I told you God creates good things. In this case, it was a perfect tenor.”

  “You were correct, Signore Lorenzo.”

  “How I wish you would stop saying ‘Signore’ and call me by my Christian name when we speak privately. After all, I love your husband like my own father, and consider you both part of my family.” When Sabina hesitated, he added softly, “It would please me.”

  “As you wish, Lorenzo.”

  “Good,” he said. “I hear that you’re a lover of literature.”

  “What else has my husband told you?”

  “Many things.” Cupping her elbow and leading her away from the other guests, he asked, “Has he shown you my library yet?”

  “The one adjacent to the Basilica of San Lorenzo?”

  “Yes.”

  “Tommaso pointed it out to me from the street, but we didn’t go inside, of course. I admit that I was curious to see its interior.”

  It was socially forbidden for a respectable woman to wander into a place where only men gathered, even if it was only a library. Sabina had begged her husband to accompany her inside, but he had refused.

  “Tommaso cannot risk your reputation. Or his, for that matter. He speaks highly of you and is impressed with your intellectual capacity. Life must not be easy for a woman who possesses a clever mind.” He paused in quiet debate. “Come. I want to show you something.”

  Sabina caught Angelina’s sharp look as Lorenzo led her out of the room. They ascended a flight of stairs, walked down a long hall, and stopped before a small door with ornate iron hinges.

  He extracted a key from his pocket. “Do you know what this is?”

  “It’s a key.”

  “Yes, but not just any key. This one is special because it opens the door to my personal library. Only a select few have ever been inside these sacred walls. Tommaso told me you have a great passion for books, so I want to show you my treasured collection.”

  Sabina’s heart leapt for joy as she entered the small room filled with ancient scrolls and antique books. Lorenzo picked up an old scroll made of a peculiar paper that Sabina had never seen before.

  “This is a papyrus scroll from Egypt. It was written before Christ was born.” Picking up another scroll, he added, “And this one was written by Socrates himself.”

  Sabina was speechless. She saw original works by Dante, various philosophers, and well-known poets. Lorenzo watched with a smile as she gingerly picked up a book and gently leafed through the pages.

  He looked at her expectantly. “Well, what do you think?”

  “You are a fortunate man to possess such an astonishing collection,” she replied without hesitation.

  “What if I gave you access to this room? What if I allowed you to come here whenever you wished?” he asked, taking a step closer.

  Her heart skipped several beats “I don’t think my husband would approve,” she reluctantly confessed.

  “Well, there is no risk of your reputation being tarnished here.”

  “I appreciate your generosity, Lorenzo, but I would need to obtain Tommaso’s permission.”

  “Spoken like a good wife. Tommaso is a fortunate man, indeed. For your information, he knows I’m making this offer to you and has given his approval.”

  So this was a test. Sabina said nothing.

  He raised a finger and continued, “Very few people have this privilege, so don’t tell anyone about it. Understood?”

  “Yes.” She paused. “I don’t know what to say…”

  “Thank you would suffice.”

  “Thank you.”

  “I’ll give you a copy of this key, and you must be escorted by one of the pages whenever you come here. Instruct the servant to remain outside the door while you read.”

  “Yes, Lorenzo.”

  “Good. Let us return to the salon before wild rumors begin circulating.”

 
Most of the guests had already dispersed, except Angelina.

  “What a splendid concerto!” she cried the moment she saw Lorenzo.

  “I’m glad you enjoyed it, Angelina.” A page arrived and whispered in Lorenzo’s ear. He turned to both women and said, “I must go, ladies.”

  The moment he was gone, Angelina pounced on Sabina. “Where did Lorenzo take you?”

  “He showed me one of his new paintings,” Sabina lied.

  Angelina’s eyes narrowed slightly, yet the smile remained on her face. “How nice. Perhaps you will sit with me in the courtyard?”

  “Alas, I cannot. My maid and my husband’s men will be meeting me soon to accompany me home.”

  Angelina turned on her heel and practically stormed out of the salon. Sabina was left alone with an unpleasant feeling in the pit of her stomach.

  Chapter 6

  The crisp, bright days of autumn soon gave way to winter. The weather changed drastically; days passed without the merest glimpse of sun. The frequent rain and gloominess plaguing the first weeks of December made the Florentines miserable. Tommaso complained of the inclement weather, the damp causing his bones to ache.

  Sabina, on the other hand, never complained. Winter was her favorite season; a time to curl up with a good book or sit before a cozy fire with quill in hand. She would write for hours, sipping hot mulled wine while her ink-stained fingers flew across the pages of her journal.

  Tommaso’s presence was usually required at either the Signoria or the Palazzo Medici on an almost daily basis. Concerned that his wife may be feeling lonely, he suggested, “Perhaps you should invite your family to spend Christmas with us in Florence.”

  Sabina’s face brightened. “You wouldn’t mind a houseful of guests?”

  “Not at all.”

  She smiled mischievously. “Good.”

  “Why are you grinning so wickedly?”

  “I sent them an invitation two days ago.”

  ***

  Don Antonio, Cecilia, and little Paolo arrived in Florence at the beginning of Advent. Tommaso wasted no time inviting his father-in-law to accompany him whenever he went out, introducing Don Antonio to several colleagues. Since the old man enjoyed meeting and talking with new people, he truly appreciated his son-in-law’s gesture. It was a break from the quiet life he led in Lucca, and a chance for him to feel like a useful member of society once again.