Praise for Bertrice Small,
“THE REIGNING QUEEN OF THE HISTORICAL GENRE,”*and Her Novels
“Bertrice Small creates cover-to-cover passion, a keen sense of history, and suspense.”
—Publishers Weekly
“Ms. Small delights and thrills.”
—Rendezvous
“An insatiable delight for the senses. [Small’s] amazing historical detail . . . will captivate the reader . . . potent sensuality.”
—*Romance Junkies
“[Her novels] tell an intriguing story, they are rich in detail, and they are all so very hard to put down.”
—The Best Reviews
“Sweeps the ages with skill and finesse.”
—Affaire de Coeur
“[A] captivating blend of sensuality and rich historical drama.”
—Rosemary Rogers
“Small is why I read historical romance. It doesn’t get any better than this!”
—Romantic Times (top pick)
“Small’s boldly sensual love story is certain to please her many devoted readers.”
—Booklist
“[A] delight to all readers of historical fiction.”
—Fresh Fiction
“[A] style that garnered her legions of fans. . . . When she’s at the top of her form, nobody does it quite like Bertrice Small.”
—The Romance Reader
“Small never ceases to bring us an amazing story of love and happiness.”
—Night Owl Romance
Books by BERTRICE SMALL
THE SILK MERCHANT’S DAUGHTERS
Bianca
Francesca
THE BORDER CHRONICLES
A Dangerous Love
The Border Lord’s Bride
The Captive Heart
The Border Lord and the Lady
The Border Vixen
Bond of Passion
THE FRIARSGATE INHERITANCE
Rosamund
Until You
Philippa
The Last Heiress
CONTEMPORARY EROTICA
Private Pleasures
Forbidden Pleasures
Sudden Pleasures
Dangerous Pleasures
Passionate Pleasures
Guilty Pleasures
THE O’MALLEY SAGA
Skye O’Malley
All the Sweet Tomorrows
A Love for All Time
This Heart of Mine
Lost Love Found
Wild Jasmine
SKYE’S LEGACY SERIES
Darling Jasmine
Bedazzled
Besieged
Intrigued
Just Beyond Tomorrow
Vixens
THE WORLD OF HETAR
Lara
A Distant Tomorrow
The Twilight Lord
The Sorceress of Belmair
The Shadow Queen
Crown of Destiny
MORE BY BERTRICE SMALL
The Kadin
Love Wild and Fair
Adora
Unconquered
Beloved
Enchantress Mine
Blaze Wyndham
The Spitfire
A Moment in Time
To Love Again
Love, Remember Me
The Love Slave
Hellion
Betrayed
Deceived
The Innocent
A Memory of Love
The Duchess
New American Library
Published by the Penguin Group
Penguin Group (USA) LLC, 375 Hudson Street,
New York, New York 10014
USA | Canada | UK | Ireland | Australia | New Zealand | India | South Africa | China
penguin.com
A Penguin Random House Company
First published by New American Library,
a division of Penguin Group (USA) LLC
Copyright © Bertrice Small, 2013
Penguin supports copyright. Copyright fuels creativity, encourages diverse voices, promotes free speech, and creates a vibrant culture. Thank you for buying an authorized edition of this book and for complying with copyright laws by not reproducing, scanning, or distributing any part of it in any form without permission. You are supporting writers and allowing Penguin to continue to publish books for every reader.
REGISTERED TRADEMARK—MARCA REGISTRADA
LIBRARY OF CONGRESS CATALOGING-IN-PUBLICATION DATA:
Small, Bertrice.
Lucianna: the silk merchant’s daughters/Bertrice Small.—First Edition.
pages cm.—(The silk merchant’s daughters)
ISBN 978-1-101-62249-0
I. Title.
PS3569.M28L83 2013
813'.54—dc23 2013018498
PUBLISHER’S NOTE
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Contents
Praise
Books by BERTRICE SMALL
Title page
Copyright page
Dedication
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Epilogue
About the Author
For Marilyn, Candy, and Bernadine.
Thanks for being such good friends.
Prologue
Orianna Pietro d’Angelo had been amazed at how easily her third daughter, Lucianna, had accepted her parents’ wishes. Orianna had not wanted any of her four daughters married to ordinary men. She wanted men of titles and wealth. The eldest, Bianca, had run off with a Turkish prince and was no longer spoken of within the family. The second, Francesca, had been left widowed with two children, and refused to accept a second husband. God only knew how she was raising her son, the young Duke of Terreno Boscoso, without the strong influence of a husband. But Francesca was so headstrong.
And now here was Lucianna. Her dower portion was down to virtually nothing with the sudden competition from Milan in the silk trade, which had affected Giovanni Pietro d’Angelo’s own silk business. At sixteen, she was already in danger of becoming an old maid, and then there was the youngest sister, Giulia, already fourteen, who would also be in need of a husband very shortly. Giulia now preferred to be called Serena, which was her second name. She thought it more elegant.
Their financial situation known, there had been few offers for the beautiful Lucianna. Several, even given the family’s straitened circumstances, were considered unsuitable. One, however, came from a wealthy bookseller, Alfredo Allibatore. He was quite elderly, with a grown son who helped his father manage their business, which consisted of bookbinding as well. Under normal circumstances, even Signore Allibatore’s son would have been considered too old for Lucianna.
But the bookseller was the most respected in the city, and known as a good man. There was simply no other choice.
Told of her impending marriage, Lucianna a
ccepted her parents’ decision meekly and agreed. Orianna didn’t know whether to be stunned or relieved, but Lucianna assured her parents she completely understood her situation, and thanked them for finding her a decent husband. A meeting was arranged between the prospective bride and her elderly groom.
Alfredo Allibatore, while pleased, was still curious why such a lovely young woman would accept his suit. Once they were alone, he asked her, and Lucianna told him quite candidly.
“I am sixteen, signore. I must marry or enter my mother’s favored convent. I have no mind to be a nun.”
“I am old. I cannot service you as a proper husband would. There will be no children of our making, Lucianna. Can you live such a life, my dear?”
“Yes, I can,” she told him. “In your house I will be the mistress. I will not have my mother, good woman she is, fussing over my unmarried state.” She smiled at him. “With the example of my two older sisters before me, I am not eager to allow passion to rule my life. I prefer a quieter existence, signore. I hope you are not offended by my candor. It is my one fault, I fear, and you should be warned of it if you are to take me as your wife.”
He chuckled. “I find your candor refreshing,” he told her. “I believe that we shall do very well together, Lucianna.”
They were wed two weeks later. There was no need for a long engagement, and they were happy together. Lucianna kept Alfredo’s home beautifully. She was good company, intelligent, and amusing. His two daughters were nuns, and they did not see them after the wedding. His son and daughter-in-law were relieved to have someone taking care of their elderly parent. They welcomed Lucianna warmly. And three years later, at the age of nineteen, Lucianna became a widow when her elderly husband died a peaceful death while holding his wife’s delicate hand.
The estate had been divided fairly. The shop and some coin had been given to her stepson. He was pleased. His two sisters received a stipend for their convent, and Lucianna became a very rich woman with a house and a great deal of gold coin. And she followed the directive of her sister Francesca. She quickly disabused her mother of any ideas of remarriage until it was her choice to do so and she did the choosing.
“At this moment I choose not to remarry, Mama,” she told Orianna. “I would like to enjoy the freedom that being a respected and respectable widow has brought me. I need no passion or the drama it brings into one’s life. I thank you for your concern and your good thoughts, however.”
“Let her be,” Giovanni Pietro d’Angelo said. “She is not her sisters. When she is ready, it will be the right man, and she will quickly learn that passion has a place in her life.” He put a comforting arm about his wife’s shoulders. “After all, cara mia, you did.”
“Gio!” she scolded him gently, but she knew he was right. Despite her reluctance to marry him all those years ago, he had become a very good husband to her, and she was finally ready to admit to her good fortune. He was a patient and wise man. They had done well together.
Chapter 1
It was odd being without Alfredo, Lucianna thought, now that his funeral was over and his will read. She was alone for the first time in her life. Of course there was Balia, her serving woman. Balia did not come from her father’s house. She had been one of Alfredo’s servants. Lucianna didn’t want someone from her mother’s staff who would feel it her duty to report to Orianna.
Lucianna had asked her son-in-law, Norberto, if she might help in the shop, and he was happy to grant her request. His children were too young to help him, and his wife, Anna Maria, did not want her girls to be seen as shopkeepers. Their son was only six. Norberto did not like dealing with their clients, and he was happy to have Lucianna do so for him. People liked his stepmother, and her family’s prestige added luster to his business, he felt.
For Lucianna, it was something to do. She was not bored when she spent time in her late husband’s bookselling shop. She had always enjoyed Alfredo’s company there. He was an educated and clever man who had taught her a great deal in the brief course of their marriage. She did not enjoy Norberto. She could not tell what he did or did not know, for he spoke little, preferring to use his hands in the intricate and delicate art of bookbinding, which required all his attention. He excelled at working with the elegant leather. She also suspected he did not believe in women having too much knowledge. Still, he was pleasant enough. She had believed he was just a trifle in awe of her because of her family. She had always been polite and kind to Norberto as a result, which had pleased her husband.
“You are my angel,” Alfredo had frequently told her, and Lucianna would laugh.
“I am simply practical, and I do not believe in being unkind to frail creatures,” she once responded to him, and he laughed again.
“He is a bit of a frail fellow, isn’t he? His mother had far more to do with raising him than I did, and Maria Clara was a gentle woman. You are different, my young wife.”
“How so, Fredo?” she had asked, curious.
“You are strong like your mother, but kinder,” he told her. “You are intelligent as well. If your father had not lost so much gold to the Milan trade, you could have had a prince, and I am well aware of it. Yet you faced your situation without complaint and accepted an old man for your husband with good grace. I remember the stories of Francesca, your sister, who mocked her suitors until the Medici sent her away. But still, she did wed a duke.”
“The eldest of us made no complaint and did as she was bid,” Lucianna had reminded him.
“Rovere blackmailed your father with some indiscretion, I am certain,” Alfredo Allibatore had told his wife. “I cannot imagine for what, as your father is a discreet man. He would have never let his daughter go to that debauched monster otherwise.”
“Yet he did, but I did not know for several years after what Rovere’s spur had been, for I was too young for such talk,” she had told him. “By then Bianca had fled Rovere, and when he was murdered, she eloped with Prince Amir, much to my mother’s shame. We don’t even know if she lives today. I barely knew her. We are eight years apart in age. She has never really been a part of my life. I do not believe I should know her if we came face-to-face. It was said she was the most beautiful of us all, however.”
He had surprised her then by telling her, “Your elder sister lives in an Ottoman principality called El Dinut. I bind books now and again for her husband, Prince Amir. It is said she is the love of his life. I believe it to be so, judging from the book of his love poems I just bound for her. They have one child, a daughter.”
“Have you ever met him?” she asked, curious.
“No,” Alfredo responded. “The prince sends his books to be bound from his home across the sea. I am paid by a small bank here in Milan. The books are returned to him via one of the prince’s vessels.”
It was the first and only time he ever surprised her. She had told her twin brother, Luca, who said even their mother knew Bianca lived. She simply chose not to discuss it with her other children. Lucianna had thought that was rather mean-spirited of their mother, but she said nothing more to her twin. They all knew that Bianca had been her mother’s favorite, and that by following her heart Bianca had disappointed her mother greatly.
So now Lucianna was alone, and she wondered if Prince Amir knew of her husband’s death, and whether he would still continue to send the Allibatores his books for binding. Only time would tell her the answer to that. If he did, perhaps she would send her sister a letter when the books were returned to him.
The months slipped by, and Lucianna’s life remained a quiet and uneventful one. The new year came and went. It was a chilly, rainy winter in Florence. Her little sister, Serena, came to visit one afternoon in the company of her ancient nursemaid. Serena was much too old to have a nursemaid, but, while realizing this youngest daughter of hers must marry soon, Orianna could not quite bring herself to settle upon a husband for Serena.
“I’m going
to end up an old maid,” Serena complained. “She was quick enough to marry you and our other sisters, but cannot seem to find the right man for me. Grandfather has given up on her.”
“Is there anyone you particularly like?” Lucianna asked.
“Not really, but I simply must get out of that house. I am sixteen, and she treats me as if I were a babe of three. My opportunities to meet anyone are very limited. I go to church with Mama daily, but no one stands in the square waiting for me to pass by as they did with Bianca. Papa’s great fortune is mostly gone, and it is known my dower is small.”
“I would gladly supplement any dower our parents can now afford. Is it that bad, Serena?”
“I have heard Papa discussing letting Marco have the business, and retiring to the villa in Tuscany. He says he would rather grow grapes and make wine than try to make bargainers appreciate how much finer our silk is compared to Milan’s.”
“Oh dear!” Lucianna exclaimed. “I fear he is serious. Papa loves the silk trade and always has.”
“Worse,” Serena said. “He doesn’t want to return from the countryside when we go this summer! I will be wed to some grape grower or farmer’s son!”
“Not if our mother has anything to say about it,” Lucianna said, laughing. “Go to the country with the family this summer. If Father insists upon remaining, I will ask our mother to let you come and keep me company now that I am alone and widowed. Believe me, she will bring you herself rather than have you stuck in the country. And she will come often herself to visit us both while she tries to get Father to return to the city. Florence does not compare to her beloved Venice, but she is not about to spend the remainder of her life growing grapes.”
“I do not know what I would do without you, Lucianna,” Serena said gratefully.
“Matrigna, forgive the interruption, but we have a new customer arriving shortly. He is an Englishman recommended to us, and he is here in Florence to purchase silk cloth for his king. I apologize I did not tell you earlier,” Norberto said, coming from his workshop. “He seeks a book of poetry. Good afternoon Signorina Serena.”
Lucianna Page 1
