Sabina

by C. De Melo

  He gathered her into his arms and kissed the top of her head. “We cannot.” They remained in a silent embrace for several minutes before he spoke again. “I promise that you’ll always have a special place in my heart and you will always be well looked-after.”

  Stefania never spoke to Cosimo of marriage or love after that day. She played the part of lover without demands or complaints, and enjoyed every moment with him as though it was her last. Raw strength ran in her blood, just as it ran in Sabina’s blood.

  ***

  In the fall of 1536, Sabina received a letter from the Convento di Santa Lucia. Her sister was very ill. The last time Sabina paid her a visit, Cecilia had complained of frequent and intense headaches.

  Sabina summoned Teresa. “Pack my belongings. I’m going to Lucca at once.” She paused, her eyes watering. “I think my sister is dying.”

  “I’m so sorry,” Teresa offered. “Shall I come with you?”

  “No, and don’t tell Stefania until I’m gone. She’ll want to accompany me and I wish to go alone.”

  Sabina was taken directly to Cecilia’s chilly cell upon arrival. A single candle sputtered atop the bedside table, and the sparsely furnished room smelled musty.

  “Sabina?” Cecilia called out in a weak voice. “Is that you?”

  “Yes, dear sister.” Sabina approached the bed and the shock of Cecilia’s appearance made her gasp.

  Cecilia laughed weakly before having a coughing fit. She winced at the pain in her head. “I’m a frightening sight, I know.”

  “Not at all,” Sabina lied.

  “I see the expressions of the young novices who are assigned to my care.” She held up her bone-thin hands. “I haven’t left my bed in weeks, and my hands reveal that I’ve lost much weight.”

  Cecilia, always robust and healthy, had wasted away to the point of skin and bones. To make matters worse, the dark circles around her eyes accentuated her ghostly pallor.

  Sabina knew her sister would not last much longer. She knelt beside the bed. “I cannot find the words for what I want to say.”

  Cecilia smiled wryly. “That’s funny, sister. Of all people, I think you would be the last person to be at a loss for words. Sabina the poet…Sabina the writer.” Sabina bent her head and wept. “Stop that nonsense. We all have to go sometime. I’m actually looking forward to these headaches finally ending.”

  Composing herself, Sabina inquired, “Have you been properly examined by a physician?”

  “Yes…he said it’s a tumor. I have bouts of blindness and moments where I see intense light. At first, I thought they were visions.” Cecilia shook her head. “Imagine me having visions? Such arrogance on my part! As if God Almighty would send visions to a miserable sinner like me. Ah, human pride is limitless.”

  “I cannot think of anyone more deserving of God’s divine favor.”

  Cecilia closed her eyes as a spasm of pain took hold. “You’re being kind to a dying woman.”

  “What else did the physician tell you?”

  “I have less than a month to live.”

  Sabina swallowed the lump that rose in her throat. “I’m going to do everything in my power to make your last days as comfortable as possible. You will not die alone, Cecilia.”

  Tears filled Cecilia’s eyes. “Thank you, dear sister.”

  After making a sizable contribution to the convent, Sabina arranged Cecilia’s transfer to a large cell with two comfortable beds. She also procured warm blankets, rugs, books, plenty of candles, and the best pain-relieving herbs that money could buy.

  The draughts eased Cecilia’s pain to the point that she developed a small appetite. After a few days of sipping chicken broth and nibbling on fresh bread, some color crept back into her cheeks. Sabina didn’t fool herself into thinking Cecilia would recover, however. The attacks of blindness and bright light became more frequent and eventually the painkillers began to lose their effect. When the dose was doubled, Cecilia became numb and incoherent.

  “Sabina?” Cecilia said one day in a moment of lucidity.

  Sabina, who was wiping the drool off her sister’s chin, paused. “I’m right here, Cecilia.”

  “Tell me…Marco’s death…Did you…”

  “Shhh….Let’s not discuss that now.” Or the rape, either.

  Cecilia nodded. “Thank you, sister…for everything. I love you.”

  “I love you, too.” Sabina gave Cecilia’s hand a squeeze.

  “I need to apologize.”

  “For what?”

  A spasm of pain caused her to wince. “For thinking badly of you.”

  Sabina adjusted the coverlet, tucking it neatly around her sister’s shoulders. “This is nonsense, Cecilia.”

  “I have secretly envied you for years. You were talented, beautiful, clever…I was plain and dull-witted. The only thing you lacked was reverence for God. That’s why I joined the convent.” Her eyes shone with unshed tears. “I wanted to have at least one thing in my life that I could hold over your head.”

  “Oh, Cecilia…”

  “I can’t die without confessing my sins of envy and pride.”

  “There were many things you were better at than me—you simply failed to see them.” Sabina paused and smiled. “I never got that sweet tart recipe right. You made them perfectly, whereas my tarts always ended up raw in the center. Oh, and let’s not forget your skill with needle and thread. Remember when we were young girls and commissioned by the local parish to make a tapestry for the altar? The half you worked on was lovely, whereas mine…” she trailed off and shrugged.

  Cecilia chuckled at the memory. “Your half was a mess!”

  Sabina burst into laughter. “Well, you could be a bit kinder.”

  “It was terrible! With crooked stitches and knots.”

  “You were also a better mother than I ever was.”

  Cecilia waved her hand weakly. “Do not say such things.”

  “Had I been more like you, maybe Anne would still be here today.”

  “I was a good mother to my little Paolo because I loved him. You were the same way with Anne—nothing more, nothing less.”

  “Ah, Paolo…”

  “I think of his smiling face every day.” Cecilia sighed with delight. “I’m looking forward to seeing him again in Heaven.”

  “When you do, give him a kiss for me. I shall meet you both shortly.”

  It was the last conversation the two sisters shared.

  Chapter 27

  In January of 1537, Stefania suspected that she was with child but kept her condition a secret. Her paleness and frequent trips to the privy brought suspicious stares from Sabina. In that same month, Alessandro the Moor was stabbed to death in an assassination plot. Florence had rid itself of its tyrant, but news of his death was kept quiet for a time in order to prevent an uprising in the city. When the incident was finally made public, the Florentines hoped to restore the Republic. The new pope, Paul III, had no designs to rule, leaving the city free for a new government.

  This was Cosimo’s chance to claim his birthright and become the next Medici ruler. First, he had to convince the Senate, which would not be an easy task. Prior to his departure, Cosimo went to see Stefania to bid her farewell.

  “The time has come at last, Cosimo,” Stefania said, trying to keep the sadness out of her voice.

  “My mother and I will ride to Florence tomorrow. My fate is in the hands of God now.” He caressed her cheek affectionately. “Hopefully, we shall see each other again soon.”

  They embraced and he held her tightly.

  Now is not the time to tell him that you are carrying his child. She whispered in his ear, “You’re going to win them over, Cosimo. I have complete faith in you.”

  He inhaled the scent of her hair and kissed her cheek before pulling away. “Take care of yourself and your grandmother.”

  She nodded. “Now go. Promise me you’ll write as soon as you can.”

  “I promise.”

  He left the r
oom without looking back and Stefania wept. Sabina, who was outside the door, heard the familiar sound of a heart breaking and closed the door to afford her granddaughter some privacy.

  ***

  Maria and her son arrived in Florence and immediately sent a message to the city leaders announcing their arrival and her son’s wish to appear before them. The request was granted, and the next morning she and Cosimo made their way to the Piazza della Signoria in the company of heavily armed guards. Maria had waited too long for this moment and was not about to take any chances.

  Cosimo assured the Senate that power would remain in the hands of elected magistrates whereas his presence would be symbolic; a mere figurehead. Convinced by his sincere and humble manner, he was named head of the government with the clause that the Council remained in full control.

  Cosimo wasted no time exploiting the use of his newly bestowed title and the influence of his many supporters. By the time his electors realized the mistake they had made, it was too late. When several members of the Council rebelled and attempted to form an army to defeat him, Cosimo had them decapitated.

  When the dust finally settled, Cosimo proved himself to be a skilled statesman, regaining much of the economic and political stature that had been lost in Florence. Some people even called him the next Magnifico because, like his great grandfather, he was educated, cultured, and politically shrewd.

  ***

  Sabina took the news calmly. “When were you planning to tell me?”

  “When I was certain, which I am,” Stefania replied.

  “I suspected as much. Does he know?” Stefania held back tears as she shook her head. “Come here, child.”

  Stefania ran into Sabina’s arms. “I love him, Grandmother.”

  “I know you do,” Sabina said, stroking her granddaughter’s hair. They were sitting by a warm fire in her bedchamber. Outside, the wind howled against the closed shutters.

  “When are you going to tell him?” Sabina inquired.

  “I was going to write a letter.”

  “This kind of news is best delivered in person. Besides, Cosimo may want you close now.”

  “I know.”

  “Which means that I would have to accompany you to Florence.”

  “Nothing would make me happier.”

  “I know, my dear. For you, Florence has so much to offer. For me, I have nothing but memories there.”

  “Good memories, Grandmother, not bad ones.”

  Sabina smiled and her eyes took on a faraway look. “Yes, very good memories. I shall sleep on this matter and make a decision in the morning. Does anyone else know of your pregnancy?”

  “My maid suspects.”

  “They always know everything that transpires in our lives, but your maid is a good girl and knows how to keep secrets. I’m tired. We shall talk tomorrow.”

  “Goodnight, Grandmother.”

  The following morning, Stefania let out a sigh as she watched the sunrise from her window. The sun’s golden rays were bathing the earth in a bright light and the frost-kissed trees and grass glistened like crystal. She and Cosimo had made love on the grass once, in the springtime.

  Her maid opened the door and poked her head into the room. “Your grandmother wishes to see you. She is breaking her fast in her bedchamber and wants you to join her.”

  Stefania went directly to her grandmother’s room.

  “Sit down, my dear,” Sabina said as she buttered a piece of bread before holding it out.

  “You said you would have an answer for me this morning,” Stefania said, accepting the bread.

  Sabina began to smear butter on another piece of bread. “Before your aunt’s death, I thought I wanted to die here.” She paused to take a bite. “But after much thought, that’s no longer the case. I want to die in Florence, in the bed where Massimo and I made love, in the house where we laughed and talked of so many things—in the house where Anne lived. I want to die in Lorenzo’s city with my memories around me.”

  Stefania leaned forward and embraced her grandmother. “My heart is lighter knowing that I will soon see Cosimo. Thank you.”

  Sabina eyed her granddaughter steadily. “You do know that he already has a child from another woman, don’t you?”

  “What?”

  “He never mentioned Bianca, his daughter?”

  Stefania paled. “I knew he was no saint, but…”

  “She’s almost three years old.”

  “Have you known for a long time?”

  “Maria told Caterina and me in confidence, but I never had the heart to tell you.” She sighed tiredly. “You need to prepare yourself for certain situations in life, especially those that take you by surprise.”

  “I had no idea…Cosimo never told me.”

  “Obviously, he doesn’t want you to know.”

  “I’ll demand an explanation when I see him!”

  “Only if you wish to lose him.” When Stefania stared at her askance, Sabina continued, “Cosimo is not a man you can control, my dear. The game of love must be played by his rules, not yours.”

  “What should I do?”

  “Absolutely nothing. According to Maria, he has a great sentiment for Bianca, which means that he will love your child, too. Take comfort in that knowledge.”

  Stefania nodded, albeit reluctantly. “I will follow your advice.”

  Sabina announced their upcoming departure to Florence during supper that evening. Caterina and Carlo were saddened by the news. Vittorio was away on business and due to return the next day.

  Caterina said, “We hate for you to go, but we understand your reasons. Stefania will thrive in Florence.”

  “My home is your home whenever you are in Florence,” Sabina said.

  “We promise to visit as soon and as often as we can,” Carlo assured her. “Who will run your household?”

  “I have sent a letter instructing Leo to hire servants and prepare the palazzina. I want the rooms aired and the kitchen and wine cellar fully stocked prior to our arrival.”

  Carlo looked to Stefania. “You must be overjoyed.”

  Stefania nodded. “I’m sad to leave you all, but I’m happy to embark on this new adventure. I’ll also be closer to Cosimo.”

  Sabina and Caterina exchanged knowing glances. Later, when the two women were alone in the kitchen afterward, Caterina said, “Stefania is going to get her heart broken.”

  Sabina nodded sadly. “I’ve already warned her, but she’s too in love to think rationally.”

  They both leaned forward at the same time to warm their hands near the hearth’s fire. Caterina ladled some hot, mulled wine into a cup.

  “Only half a cupful for me,” Sabina said, inhaling the strong spices. “It’s good to get your heart broken when you’re young. You learn to protect it in the future. Stefania is a smart girl.”

  “Don’t you wish you could prevent her pain?” Caterina asked once she had filled her cup and taken a sip.

  “Absolutely not.” When Caterina gave her a puzzled look, Sabina explained, “I don’t have much time left on this earth. I want Stefania to be strong enough to stand on her own. Once we’re in Florence, I’ll introduce her to the right people and fill her head with wisdom and good advice, but the rest is up to her.”

  “She’ll always be welcomed here—this is her home, too. You know we love her as our own daughter.”

  “I know and she knows, but it’s my blood that runs in her veins. She’s as headstrong and tenacious as I was at her age. After Cosimo breaks her heart, which will be soon, she’ll toughen up and learn to survive in a man’s world.”

  “Sometimes I envy you.”

  “Why? You’ve had everything a woman could want in life: a loving husband, three healthy sons, and a beautiful home. What could you possibly envy?”

  “Your strength and independence.”

  “You have the same qualities, Caterina. From where I stand, your life is perfect.”

  Caterina sighed wistfully. “It would b
e perfect if my son was happy.”

  She referred to Vittorio, who was handsome and successful but plagued by sadness. He was desperately in love with Stefania but she barely acknowledged his existence. Throughout the years, his parents had contrived various introductions to available young women, but their efforts were in vain.

  “He’ll be heartbroken when he discovers that you’re leaving for Florence,” Caterina lamented.

  “I know and I’m sorry for it.”

  “My poor boy.” Caterina shook her head and smiled. “I do not blame Stefania. One cannot control Cupid’s arrow.”

  “I wish my granddaughter would forget Cosimo and give Vittorio a chance,” Sabina admitted. “Stefania could do no better than your son as far as I’m concerned. I would die with peace of mind knowing she was in his loving care.”

  “Amen to that,” Caterina agreed.

  As expected, Vittorio was devastated when he learned that his beloved Stefania was making a permanent move to Florence. He remained stoic when Sabina and Stefania hugged and kissed everyone goodbye. When their carriage finally rolled out of the courtyard, Vittorio retreated to the privacy of his bedchamber. Caterina went up a few moments later and placed her ear against the locked door. It was the first time she had ever heard her adult son weep.

  ***

  Leo greeted Sabina and Stefania in grand style when they arrived in Florence. The house was immaculately clean. Flowers graced tabletops and the delicious aromas of roasting meat and fresh bread filled the air.

  A special bouquet of flowers and a bottle of wine had arrived earlier that day. The attached note welcomed them on their return to Florence and bore Cosimo’s signature and the Medici seal.

  “What a nice gesture,” Sabina commented. “We shall have to invite him to dinner.”

  “I shall send the messenger at once,” Stefania offered.

  “What do you think of tomorrow?”

  “I would invite him today, but perhaps you’re right.”

  Sabina raised an amused eyebrow. “A woman should never appear overly eager. Always keep a man guessing because as soon as he thinks he has you, he’ll become bored and begin to notice other women.”