by C. De Melo
Cecilia left for Lucca and Sabina moved to the countryside a few weeks later. Leo stayed behind to guard and maintain the house, while Teresa accompanied her mistress along with Donna Francesca, Stefania’s wet nurse.
Caterina received Sabina and her entourage with open arms. “Let me see this little beauty,” she said, reaching for Stefania. “I’ve always wanted a girl, but God has blessed me with three sons.”
“How are the boys? Where is your husband?” Sabina inquired, looking around.
“The boys are well. Carlo had to deliver some merchandise to his clients in Rome, but he should be back in a few days.”
“Thank you for offering your home to me, Caterina.”
“We are family, Sabina. Having you both here is a good thing. Besides, it gets lonely with Carlo being gone so often.”
“Florence is not the same without Massimo. And after Anne….”
Sensing her sister in law’s potential tears, Caterina changed the subject by asking, “Do you plan on selling your home?”
“No. I’m going to keep it for Stefania.” Sabina took one of the baby’s fingers. “I must focus on this little one, and I’m more than happy to help you with the boys. I insist on funding their education from now on.”
Caterina appeared stricken. “We invited you here because we foster great affection for you. We don’t expect anything in return.”
“No one knows that better than I do, but those are my terms. Allow me the opportunity to repay your kindness and generosity by providing your sons with the best tutors that money can buy. I’m old and have too much money, so let me spend it wisely.”
Caterina smiled and nodded. Stefania began to fuss so Donna Francesca came to take the baby for her feeding.
“Your nurse appears to be very capable,” Caterina commented.
“Donna Francesca served as nurse to the Fanucci family and their children.”
“Fanucci—he is a baron, is he not? Handsome too. I remember he had many children.”
Sabina smirked. “Ten. Stefania has taken a liking to her and cries less now. She was crying all the time after…” She was going to say “after Anne’s death,” but stopped herself. Anne had wanted nothing to do with this life, with Stefania, with anything. Sabina believed that she had failed miserably as a mother, despite having done everything in her power to provide the best education and happiest childhood for her daughter. Where had she failed? How had she failed?
Oh, Massimo, how I wish you were here to help me through this…
Caterina’s voice brought Sabina back to the present. “The boys are excited about having a baby in the house, especially a girl. They already feel protective of her.”
“Stefania will love them. I’m sure.”
Caterina put her arm around Sabina’s shoulders. “I know you’ve been through so much. Let me do what I can to comfort you. I’ll always be in your debt for making my brother happy.”
“To be honest with you, I had no idea what to do or where to go after losing the two people I loved most in this world.”
Caterina pulled her sister-in-law in for a brief embrace then led her to the garden located behind the villa. It was cold, dry, and lifeless, but, in a matter of months, spring would make everything green and full of life again. Hopefully, Sabina’s spirit would be reborn as well.
Chapter 25
The Mugello Region of Tuscany
1526
The political situation in Florence was precarious. Fear of the Medici returning to reclaim power was prevalent among Florentine politicians, creating a tense atmosphere. Carlo kept abreast of current news and passed what he gleaned onto his wife and Sabina, who greedily absorbed any tidbit of gossip. The peaceful countryside proved to be a healing salve for Sabina and her granddaughter.
Stefania may have lost her mother, but she gained an adoring family who witnessed her first steps and her first tooth, and watched her grow into a healthy, happy child. Her surrogate brothers not only loved her, they were also extremely protective. Stefania became precocious and coy as a result; a deadly combination for a child who, at the tender age of five, was already exhibiting the physical traits of a future beauty. Her emerald green eyes were large and expressive, her mouth a red rosebud, and her dark spiral curls bounced prettily whenever she moved. When she flashed her captivating smile, it was difficult not to fall under the spell of her charm.
Lorenzo il Magnifico’s granddaughter, Maria Salviati, moved to the Castello del Trebbio a while back, but Sabina was only introduced to her after Easter Mass. Maria’s reputation preceded her; she was known to be a cultured and spiritual woman, totally dedicated to the raising of her son, Cosimo. Sensing the camaraderie between Sabina and Maria, Caterina graciously invited her to dinner the following week.
Maria and her seven-year-old son came to the house after mass the following Sunday. Caterina and her servants prepared a fine meal of stewed wild boar and roasted vegetables. Maria complimented the food and chatted easily with her hosts. Confident that she sat among Medici supporters, she finally disclosed her real reason for living in the Mugello.
“As you well know, Florence is a dangerous place for my son,” Maria said. “He may be viewed as a threat to the Republic.”
Carlo nodded in agreement. “You were wise to raise the lad here.”
The adults sat together at the head of the table and their eyes slid to the little boy who sat at the opposite end with the children. Cosimo, being perceptive and intelligent, met their gazes with an expression of calm assuredness. His handsome brown eyes gave nothing away.
“I want him to grow up in a safe environment,” Maria whispered while still looking at her son.
They understood the prudence of her actions. In such politically turbulent times, it was not uncommon for poison to find its way into someone’s food or for a fatal accident to occur. A child would be an easy target.
“I remember when your grandfather, Lorenzo, ruled the city. It was the cultural center of Europe and an economic giant,” Sabina reminisced. “Oh, how I miss those days.”
Maria smiled. “The Golden Age of Florence…I wish I could remember those days, too.”
“They ended when Giuliano died,” Sabina said sadly.
“My mother told me the story of the Pazzi Conspiracy and how poor Giuliano was murdered during Easter Mass in the Duomo,” Maria said.
Sabina’s memory raced backward in time. In her mind’s eye, she remembered the scene vividly. “Your grandfather was such a great man. The people loved him.”
“Indeed he was,” Maria agreed. “It’s a pity his life was cut short by gout. That cursed condition has afflicted many in my family. I pray Cosimo will be spared.”
The boy met Sabina’s gaze. Like his great grandfather, Cosimo’s eyes were piercing and steady. Anyone with a shred of perception could see that Maria was grooming him for a great future in politics. Cosimo was educated, strong in character, and already possessed the intelligence and cunning needed to be a powerful ruler in the future—should he survive into adulthood. One could never take such a luxury for granted.
Changing the subject, Maria asked of her hosts, “I hear that your oldest son is getting married in the spring.”
Carlo replied, “Giovanni has made a fine match with the daughter of a Milanese banker. Perhaps you have heard of the Romario family?”
“Yes, I have. They are a good and reputable family.”
Caterina and her husband beamed with pride before Carlo said, “Our son will be moving to Milan after the wedding.”
“We will miss him,” Caterina added. She sighed and glanced at the children. Giovanni, who normally sat with the adults, was away on family business. She remembered when all three sons sat together. Time passed too quickly.
Carlo was generous with his good wine, so the aromatic nectar flowed freely at the table. Even the children enjoyed a watered-down version mixed with honey. Cosimo and Stefania were seated side by side and kept smiling at each other. After cutting up s
everal pieces of wild boar on his plate, Cosimo offered them to Stefania.
The act of male gallantry was not lost on Vittorio, who scowled and said, “I was going to cut the meat for Stefania.”
Despite being two years older and considerably taller, Vittorio failed to intimidate Cosimo, who said, “Next time, you should seize the opportunity and act quicker.”
This made Stefania laugh and Vittorio blush. Marcello, who was by nature extremely quiet and shy, merely smiled at Cosimo’s quick retort. Nearly sixteen years old, he seemed unfazed by the fact that he was sitting with the children instead of the adults.
“How old are you?” Vittorio asked of Cosimo.
Cosimo continued to place tidbits of meat on Stefania’s plate as he replied, “I’m seven years old, Stefania is five, and you are nine.”
“How do you know?” Vittorio demanded.
“My mother’s servants tell me everything.”
Stefania looked at one boy then the other while she chewed quietly.
“Did they tell you Stefania prefers my company to yours?” Vittorio countered saucily. “I’m her favorite, you know.”
Cosimo’s eyes slid to Stefania then back to Vittorio. “Are you sure about that?”
Vittorio frowned in outrage. “Of course, I am!”
“Do you not think it better to ask her?” Cosimo insisted.
Vittorio demanded, “Stefania, who do you like better—me or him?”
Not wanting to hurt either boy’s feelings, Stefania pointed to Marcello, who playfully grabbed her finger and pretended to bite it off, making her squeal with laughter. The adults glanced at the children.
“She’s such a pretty little thing,” Maria commented.
Sabina beamed with pride. “She’s a good girl, too.”
“We love her as our very own,” Carlo said and Caterina nodded in accord. “It seems like your son, Cosimo, has fallen under her spell just as our sons have.”
For the first time in his young life, Vittorio experienced the sharp pang of jealousy. Stefania had always belonged to him; now this new boy was diverting her attention and making her smile. As Vittorio studied Cosimo, he decided to dislike the young usurper.
***
The years passed rapidly and peacefully. Sabina devoted herself entirely to Stefania’s education. In time, the girl became knowledgeable, articulate, and well versed in Latin, history, and mathematics. In the year 1535, Stefania turned fourteen and Sabina turned seventy-six. Their birthdays were celebrated a few days apart during the month of October, when the autumn chill began to permeate the air.
Carlo continued to flourish as a merchant, only now he sold gemstones and precious metals instead of spices. He would sometimes travel as far north as Venice or as far south as Naples. Of his sons, the only one who displayed interest and talent for the family business was Vittorio. Not only did he accompany his father on these long journeys, he also dabbled in goldsmithing. Although Vittorio enjoyed working with his father, he hated being away from Stefania. At age eighteen, he pined for her attention and often fantasized about marrying her in the future.
Cosimo, who was now sixteen and very much a man beyond his years, was also not immune to Stefania’s feminine wiles. His sexual appetite was healthy, which was not unusual for a young man of his age. Despite having bedded a few of the nubile servants in his household, he could not yet bring himself to seduce the young woman who had been his best friend since childhood. Stefania was his closest confidant, and he held a great amount of respect for her and her grandmother.
***
Stefania barged into Vittorio’s room one day holding a stiff bodice against her bare chest. “Will you please lace me up? My maid is nowhere to be found,” she lamented.
Vittorio, who had been seated at his desk writing a letter, put down his quill and merely stared at Stefania. She was wearing a cream linen underskirt and he could see through the flimsy fabric. To his chagrin, he felt himself harden.
She walked up to him and turned around, exposing her back. He stared at the silken skin, which was the color of fresh cream, and admired the way her slim waist curved into her hips. He wanted to run his hands on that skin, smell it, taste it.
“Well? What are you waiting for?” Stefania asked, peeking over her shoulder. “Go on. I need to get dressed for my lessons.”
Vittorio could not stand up in his current state without humiliating himself. With trembling fingers, he carefully laced up the undergarment from where he sat. Each time his fingers brushed her skin, the desire increased. She also smelled of rose water, which only tormented him further.
“Almost done?” she asked.
“Yes,” he replied.
“Thank you,” she said, turning around and kissing his cheek. “Do you want to play chess after I’m done with my lessons?”
Vittorio nodded mutely, his mouth dry. She smiled and rushed out of the room. He exhaled and put his head into his hands.
Sabina did little to rein her granddaughter’s passion and femininity. Instead, Stefania was afforded more freedom and education than most women her age. She loved the sport of falconry and hunting, which was not surprising since she was raised around males. She also loved to ride. Of the three brothers, Marcello was the most accomplished rider and hunter, but he was in love with a local young woman named Giulia and too busy courting. This left the second-best rider, Giovanni, who was more than happy to accompany Stefania whenever he and his wife, Anabella, came to visit. Unfortunately, his visits were infrequent. Finally, there was Vittorio, who traveled often. Whenever he was home, however, he preferred reading over riding but would indulge Stefania on occasion.
One cold winter afternoon, Stefania wanted to go riding. The bad weather had forced her to remain indoors for many days. To make matters worse, Marcello was not home. Since Sabina did not permit her granddaughter to go out into the woods alone, Stefania was doing her utmost to convince Vittorio.
“Please Vittorio,” she pleaded as she paced around his chair.
Vittorio was reading a book by the warmth of the fire. “Stefania, it’s so cold outside. Look!” he pointed out the window. “There’s snow on the ground.”
“Only a light dusting. You know I’m not permitted to go out alone. The falcons need exercise.”
He sighed tiredly. “Father and I returned only yesterday. Let me rest a bit, will you?”
After a few minutes of whining, it became obvious that Vittorio was not going to budge, no matter how much she pouted.
“I’ll go riding with you.”
Both Vittorio and Stefania turned toward the sound of the voice in the doorway. It was Cosimo.
“Your grandmother let me in,” he said to Stefania. Looking at Vittorio, he added, “Buongiorno.”
“Buongiorno,” Vittorio replied with forced pleasantness.
Cosimo turned his attention back to Stefania. “I would be more than happy to accompany you riding or hunting or whatever else you wish to do. A lovely lady should never beg for the company of a gentleman.”
Stefania smiled and blushed.
Irritated, Vittorio stood. “Of course I would not allow her to go alone. I’m only concerned with her health. I would hate for Stefania to catch cold in this weather.”
Cosimo laughed. “One with hot blood cannot catch cold.”
Vittorio witnessed the electricity in the look that Stefania and Cosimo shared. In that moment, he experienced a jealousy so fierce, he wanted to strangle his opponent.
“I’ll fetch my cloak,” Stefania said before rushing off.
There was a tense silence between the two young men before Cosimo asked, “What are you reading?” Vittorio held up the book for him to see. “Ah, Plato. Always a good choice.”
“How is your mother?” Vittorio inquired courteously.
“She’s well, thank you. She’s looking forward to Christmas. Your parents have been kind enough to include us in their celebrations this year.”
“How thoughtful of them. I’m sure it
will be a merry time for us all,” Vittorio stated flatly, feeling the exact opposite.
Another tense silence passed.
“Ah, Stefania is blossoming into an extraordinary woman, don’t you agree?”
Vittorio heard a touch of mischief in Cosimo’s voice. “Yes, she is.”
“Like her grandmother.”
Vittorio nodded in agreement. “She was quite a woman in her day, from what I hear. Beautiful, courageous, strong, and a talented writer.”
“And exactly who fits that wondrous description?” Stefania asked as she waltzed back into the room with a fur cloak around her shoulders.
“Your grandmother,” Cosimo replied. “She was incredible.”
“She is incredible,” Stefania corrected. “After all she’s been through and what she’s done for me, I owe her everything.”
“She does it out of love, I’m sure,” Cosimo said. “Are you ready?”
She nodded and looked to Vittorio. “See you at supper.”
“I’m going with you.”
She raised her eyebrows in surprise and Cosimo’s face broke into a sly, knowing grin that made Vittorio’s face turn red.
“Are you sure?” she asked. “I thought you wanted to rest.”
“I’m sure, unless my company is unwanted,” Vittorio retorted defensively.
“Don’t be silly, my friend. We would enjoy your company,” Cosimo said smoothly.
“I’ll change into something warm and meet you in the stables shortly,” Vittorio said.
Once outside, Cosimo placed his hand in the small of Stefania’s back as they entered the large wooden stable. His face was close to hers and the presence of his hand on her back felt pleasing.
Seeing her horse, she said, “Hello Nero.”
“I like that you named your horse after a notorious Roman Emperor,” he commented, his breath brushing her cheek like a feather.
The coldness in the air was turning their noses and lips red, and their breath came out in vaporous clouds. Stefania did not move when Cosimo took another step to close the gap between them. When the hand on the small of her back pulled her toward him, she did not resist.
