Lucianna

by Bertrice Small

  Lucianna sobbed, but her cries were ones of happiness. She was his wife in all ways now. Perhaps this first coupling would give them a child, but there would be many more such nights if she could have her way, and she would.

  He rolled off her onto his back, gasping with his release and his pleasure. It had been a magnificent coupling, and unlike anything he had ever experienced before. It was his love for her, he knew, that made it so. How different passion was with a woman you loved as opposed to just a woman willing to share her body. He had promised her he would take no mistress, and now he knew he never could after this night. “I love you, Lucianna, my beautiful Florentine wife. I love you!” he declared to her as he turned to look down into her face.

  “Can we do it again?” she asked him ingenuously, smiling up at him. “It won’t hurt even a little the second time, will it?”

  Robert Minton laughed aloud. “No, sweetheart, it won’t hurt after this first time. And yes, with a little time to recover my strength, we will most certainly do it again.”

  They were late to arise come the morning, but finally Balia decided that enough was enough and came to see them roused. The happiness on Lucianna’s beautiful face both relieved and pleased her. Her mistress had survived the taking of her virginity in good spirits.

  She wondered how long it would be before Lucianna would quicken with a child. “Master Luca has been asking after you all morning,” she told her mistress.

  “My impatient brother has never had a wedding night,” Lucianna said, smiling.

  The earl chuckled. “I saw him go off with that new housemaid. One can hope he hasn’t gotten a bastard on the saucy wench.”

  “He should go back to London now that he has seen our marriage celebrated,” Lucianna decided. “I know he would enjoy spending more time here in the country away from the shop, but he must return to take on this new responsibility. I am content here, unless you go back to London and wish me with you.”

  “You may need to oversee the shop until you are certain Luca is ready to take it over for your father’s guild,” the earl said.

  “Baram Kira knows as much as I do,” Lucianna replied. “He was far quicker to learn than my brother. Poor Luca. He is really a soldier at heart. He has given up his dream because our elder brother cannot seem to manage what my father, and his father, built up. With Giorgio in Rome, poor Luca is the only son remaining to keep the Pietro d’Angelos’ silk business viable. My father cannot manage the Florence shop forever. Luca will have to return to do that, and I shall recommend to the guild that they take Baram Kira into their employ to manage this shop in London for them. It has done well, and the Milanese have not.”

  “The Milanese hire no English, nor does the man they sent make any effort to encourage the London cloth merchants to friendship as you did.”

  “With your help,” Lucianna reminded her husband.

  He smiled in acknowledgment. “If you had not been successful, you would have had to return to Florence,” he reminded her. “I did what I had to keep you here.”

  “And now I shall never return to Florence, except possibly to visit my parents with you,” she said softly. “I have chosen a future in England with you.”

  He grinned. “So you have, madame. So you have.”

  “Who knows of our marriage?”

  “I told Lady Margaret I would do my best to win you over,” he admitted.

  “The king does not know?” she asked.

  Robert Minton shook his head. “Nay,” was all he said.

  “Oh, Robert! You must tell him yourself, and quickly, before he learns of it from another. He trusts you, and what if he had another lady in mind for your wife? A lady who would have been of use to his family, and therefore to you.”

  “Henry Tudor wed who he wanted to wed. I have but done the same,” Robert Minton answered her.

  “Henry Tudor married the last king’s niece, the daughter of the king previous to him. She was England’s heiress. He has united two warring factions by that marriage, which is, praise God, a happy one if the gossip be true. How many years have the Lancasters and the Yorks quarreled over England’s throne? Wars like that are detrimental to a society, as any scholar of history can tell you.”

  “You are a scholar of history, then?” he teased her.

  “My father educated his daughters as well as his sons, even as I shall do,” Lucianna said proudly. “I do not want you to lose favor with your king, Robert. You must tell him of our marriage face-to-face.”

  The earl sighed. She was right, and he knew it. “I will go to London with your brother. But I will return quickly. I do not intend our time together to be interrupted now that you are mine.”

  She nodded, pleased that he had taken the first wifely advice she had given him. “When will you leave?” she asked him.

  “Today,” he said firmly. He climbed naked from their bed, and Lucianna swallowed her giggles at Balia’s surprise. Especially when he turned to her serving woman and said, “Go and tell Master Luca to be ready to depart within the hour.”

  “I’ll see him before he goes,” Lucianna quickly put in, knowing her brother would not go until he was certain all was well with his twin.

  “Right away, my lord,” Balia answered, forgetting to curtsy as she almost ran from the chamber.

  Now Lucianna did laugh. “Oh, Robert, how you shocked her. She is not used to seeing a naked man.”

  “She’ll get use to it,” he said dryly. Then he added, “I’ll go and dress. I’m certain Fflam is waiting for me patiently.” He disappeared through the almost-hidden door in the wall through which he had entered the previous evening.

  Lucianna reached for her sleep chemise, which lay on the floor near the bed. Slipping it on, she waited for Balia to return, but it was Mali who came first, carrying a tray.

  “Balia thought you might be hungry,” the girl said.

  “I am,” Lucianna admitted. “What have you brought me?”

  “Some nice hot oats with honey and cream, new-baked bread, butter, jam, and a bit of watered wine,” Mali replied, speaking slowly so as not to forget the contents of the tray.

  “It all sounds wonderful!” Lucianna told her, smiling.

  “Will you eat in your bed, my lady, or shall I set it upon a table?”

  “This morning I shall spoil myself and eat in my bed,” Lucianna told her. “I saw my mother do it now and again, especially when she had been out late at some festival or entertainment. I always thought it quite luxurious, and have wondered if the food tasted better eaten in bed. What do you think, Mali?”

  Mali giggled. “I wouldn’t know, my lady. In our cottage if you weren’t at the table for a meal, you didn’t eat. Unless you were working in the fields, of course.” She brought the tray to the bed, setting it carefully on her mistress’s lap.

  Lucianna smiled at the girl. She suspected that Mali was going to become an excellent helper for her Balia. She began to eat even as Balia hurried back into the bedchamber. The older woman immediately began instructing Mali what to get out for her mistress to wear this day.

  “Master Luca will be ready when the earl is,” she said to Lucianna. “I can certainly tell you I was surprised when he jumped from the bed, my lady. I will admit it startled me at first, but it was certainly a fine sight.”

  Lucianna giggled. “He says you’ll get used to him.”

  “I believe I will,” Balia cackled with a wide grin. “I’m just glad our young Mali wasn’t with me earlier. She is yet too young to see such a fine sight as his lordship presents.”

  “I’ve seen my brothers naked when they swim,” Mali volunteered. “Are not all men the same?” But she blushed at the boldness of her query.

  “Some are better than others,” Balia said frankly, “and while we should not speak of such things, I think my lady will forgive me if I say the master’s accomplishme
nts are the best I’ve ever seen.” She chortled.

  “Having seen my brothers swimming in the summers too, I should probably have to agree,” Lucianna said with a smile.

  “Agree upon what?” the earl asked, stepping back into the bedchamber, and the three women burst into giggles.

  “Nothing to concern you, my lord,” his countess answered. “Just women’s chatter.” She saw he was already dressed for travel. “Have you eaten?” she asked him. “Balia, do not let the earl go off without some food in his belly.”

  He came to the bed, and, bending down, gave her a long kiss. “I could send the king a message with your brother,” he said.

  “Nay, this is news you must deliver in person, my lord,” she advised him quietly. “Have we not previously discussed it?”

  “We are but wed a day,” he grumbled.

  “And with God’s blessing we will have many more days together,” she told him, feeding him a piece of her bacon.

  “You are a determined wench,” he said with a small smile.

  “I am,” Lucianna agreed. “Now go and eat something before you spend the entire day in travel, for I know you will only stop to rest the horses until you reach London.”

  “And if the king is not in London, I shall have to find him wherever he is, won’t I?”

  “You will,” Lucianna told him. “If the king or his mother had a noble bride in mind for you, you must allay any irritation they may feel. You cannot lose their favor, my lord. Even if you prefer living on your estates as opposed to living at court, you cannot destroy the long friendship you have had with Henry Tudor and his mother.”

  “Lady Margaret knows my feelings for you, sweetheart,” he said.

  “Ah, but did she know you would carry me off and wed me?” Lucianna asked him. “I believe she thought you would make me your mistress, Robert, not your wife.”

  “I wanted no other,” he told her.

  “Nor did I,” Lucianna said, frankly, “but a marriage between an English earl and a Florentine silk merchant’s daughter can hardly have been expected by your peers. I shall have to prove myself worthy of you to all, Robert.”

  “You need prove nothing!” he insisted, but Lucianna smiled. She knew better, even if her husband didn’t.

  A knock came on the bedchamber door, and Mali hurried to open it, curtsying as she saw her mistress’s brother there.

  “May I come in?” Luca asked, and seeing his twin nod, he stepped into the chamber. “I have come to say good-bye, Sister.”

  The earl arose. “I will go and eat,” he told his wife. Catching her hand up, he kissed it slowly, his eyes meeting hers. “I shall be gone no longer than I must, madame,” he told her. Then turning, he departed.

  “You look as though you have survived your wedding night,” Luca said frankly in their native tongue.

  “I have,” Lucianna answered him.

  “You will not come back to the shop now, will you?” He looked worried, but the query was straightforward.

  “Nay, I cannot now. I am the Countess of Lisle, and a countess does not serve in a shop. Luca, you must trust Baram Kira. He has learned far quicker than you have and will be of great help to you. The Kiras are to be trusted. This endeavor of the guild’s must continue to thrive. The Milanese are about to give up and depart. Give them no advantage, I beg you. You are a proud man, and turning yourself into a merchant when your heart lies in soldiering is difficult, I know, but Father needs you. ’Tis you, and not our older brother, Marco, who will keep our family’s business from failing.”

  “You place a great deal of responsibility upon me,” Luca said.

  His sister smiled. “I know,” she agreed, “but you are far more disciplined than Marco. You can do it, and once Father sees that, he will feel secure in turning everything over to you. Marco will be relieved that the responsibility is yours.”

  “I cannot manage our family’s business from London, Sister,” Luca said to her. “And to be frank with you, I do not like this dank English weather. I would be home in our sunny Florence.”

  “You will be,” Lucianna promised, “and soon.”

  “And you will remain behind in this England,” Luca said.

  “Happily, I will.” She smiled. “I am with the man I love, Brother. You must find a good wife when you return home. You have but to tell our mother, and she will gladly help you.”

  He laughed. “Well,” he said, “though you have escaped our mother’s clutches by coming to England and wedding your earl, she cannot complain. You willingly, and without any drama, wed your first husband for her sake. She could not know that he would leave you everything, making you an independent woman.”

  Lucianna laughed now too. “No, she never imagined such a thing.” Then, pausing, she considered a way in which she might help her twin. “Luca, would you like my house in Florence? You do not have to live at home if you do not wish it.”

  “’Tis generous of you, Sister,” he replied, “but Mama has never kept track of her sons’ comings and goings. We were not as confined as our sisters. I am happy to live at home until I wed. I may even live there with my bride for a time. Many sons do. Even Marco did at first, if you remember.”

  “I remember Marco’s wife did not like it, which is why her father bought them a house,” Lucianna replied. “I will give you a key to my house so you may always have an escape, should you need it.”

  “You are generous as always, Sister,” Luca said. Then he kissed her cheek. “I will not return to Florence without seeing you,” he promised her. Then bowing, he left the bedchamber.

  “You did not tell him to eat,” Balia said, chuckling.

  “He had already eaten, I am certain,” Lucianna said. “Luca is not one to miss a meal.”

  “Will you be arising, my lady?” Balia asked.

  “I will,” Lucianna said. “I am sure there is much for me to do, and Argel will tell me. Wives cannot be idle, Balia. Even noble wives.”

  She was right. By the time she reached the hall, her husband and her brother had already departed for London. Argel greeted her and outlined the duties expected of the Countess of Lisle. They were much as she had expected. The household was hers to direct. She must plan meals with the cook. Ride out with the bailiff to visit the sick. Appear at Mass daily to set a good example. And while her husband was away, she must settle any disputes that could not await his return.

  She had ridden the estate several times with Robert. Today she decided she would take Worrell, the bailiff, and ride out herself so the villagers and the cottagers might become accustomed to their new lady. The day was fair, and Lucianna was glad for the travelers’ sakes. Worrell was respectful of his new lady and impressed that she would seek to ride out with him. She was a foreigner and, he knew, not of noble family. Still, she was polite to him, asked good questions, and even solicited his advice. “She is not puffed up at all,” he told those who would listen that evening. “The lady may not be one of us, but I believe she will make our lord a good wife.”

  “They say she has a great fortune,” one woman said.

  “I would not know that,” Worrell replied a bit stiffly. “I do know she was kind to Mary by the river, who has just been widowed. Asked if there was anything she needed for herself or the young ones. This lady of ours has a kind heart.”

  Having gained the bailiff’s approval, Lucianna discovered the Wye Court folk were suddenly more friendly. It made her feel more at home, even with Robert away. She wondered how long it had taken her husband to reach London, but she knew he had ridden quickly. And he had, surprised that Luca had so easily kept up with him, and told him so.

  “I am a soldier at heart,” Luca said, grinning. “If the horses hold out, then so can I, my lord.” Luca left his new brother-in-law at the silk shop, where he discovered Baram Kira busily taking orders from a line of merchants for the silks they wished to
sell come the autumn months.

  Luca realized then and there that it was Baram Kira who would manage this shop once he had returned to Florence. He felt any small resentment for the young man fading away with the knowledge that the London shop would be in excellent hands. Selling his family’s silk was his business now. He could approach the task like a good tactician to gain the best results, as he had done as a soldier.

  It was not a difficult undertaking, unlike Robert Minton’s duty, which was to tell his king of his marriage.

  To the earl’s relief, Henry Tudor was in London, although he was soon to depart to reassure the countryside that, despite the continued Yorkist plots, the Tudors were on the throne to stay.

  “Where have you been?” the king wanted to know when the earl was ushered into the royal presence.

  “At Wye Court,” Robert answered. “I took Lucianna and her brother with me, my lord.”

  “Ah, the beautiful Florentine silk merchant. Have you finally managed to make her your mistress?” The king grinned mischievously.

  “I made her my wife, my lord,” the earl answered the king.

  Henry Tudor’s face registered surprise. “You wed her? Why?”

  His companion laughed softly. “Because I love her, my lord. A most unusual turn of events, is it not? I have left my bride after only one night in her bed to come and tell you, my lord. She insisted that I do. I would have waited otherwise.”

  “She did not insist before the marriage, I note,” the king replied.

  Robert Minton was surprised by the king’s words and realized he must protect Lucianna from any suspicions. “But she did, my lord,” he lied. “She pointed out the unsuitability of a marriage between us several times, for I have sought her hand for some months.” That at least was the truth.

  “Yet she wed you nonetheless,” the king replied thoughtfully. “Have you told my mother? I think she may have had a bride in mind for you, although she has not spoken of it to me, but you know you are her favorite, Rob. Now that I am wed, surely you would have realized she would want you married too.”