Lucianna

by Bertrice Small

  “You cannot do this at all,” Luca replied dryly.

  “What if the woman seeks the return of her coin?”

  “Threaten to expose her as a treasonous bitch,” Luca told the pair, and then he departed the tavern to go home. He had no intention of returning. Once his brother-in-law knew there was no danger of any treason, the earl would inform Lady Margaret. Then Luca might return to Florence while travel was still a pleasant prospect.

  It was still reasonably early when he arrived at his sister’s house. He found Lucianna and Roberto in the hall, discussing their day. “I bring good tidings,” Luca announced, joining them. He took the goblet of wine his sister offered him. “This plot is nothing, my lord,” he told his brother-in-law. Then he explained his words.

  “Jesú! Mary!” the Earl of Lisle swore when he had heard the tale that Luca related to him of his early-evening meeting. “A bigger pair of fools I have yet to hear of, Luca.”

  “I would send to arrest the pair and clap them in the king’s prison for a brief sojourn just to bring home the foolishness of what they involved themselves in,” Luca said.

  “They were driven by greed,” the earl responded. “To make this public in any way would do no more to cause the king worry. I am curious as to who put them up to it, however.”

  “I believe they really do not know,” Luca said.

  “It was a woman,” Lucianna said, and the two men looked at her, surprised. “It was a woman,” she repeated.

  “Why do you say that?” the earl asked his wife.

  “Would a man send his serving woman to recruit two such villains?” Lucianna asked. “I think not.”

  “Have you offended any lady during your time here?” the earl inquired of Luca.

  “Nay, my lord. I have confined my amours to serving women, and have had no opportunity to meet ladies of quality. I am always busy with the shop, or riding for exercise outside the city,” Luca said.

  “I surely have not offended any husband, brother, or father.”

  “Nor would such a person have gold with which to tempt others,” Lucianna observed wisely, “or have concocted such a silly scheme, or one that, if they were caught, would attract the authority of the king. I still would consider if you have any enemies, my lord.”

  “We all have enemies,” her husband said, “but there should be none who would seek to harm me. I am no threat to any, nor have I threatened others.”

  “Then unless we unravel the mystery of who would seek to harm any of us individually, or as a family, we cannot know,” Lucianna said.

  “I will inform Lady Margaret of this turn of events tomorrow,” the earl said. “Then perhaps we may arrange for Luca’s return to Florence. Your father is certain to need him back, and by the time we hear from him, the weather may not be as salubrious for travel.”

  The following morning, both Lucianna and her husband visited Lady Margaret. She dismissed her ladies, telling them to walk in her garden. Cat Talcott lingered behind, making certain she was the last to leave the king’s mother. The other women and girls were ahead of her, and she waited until they had gone into the gardens before returning to listen outside the door of Lady Margaret’s privy chamber.

  “This plot was no more than a fraud,” she heard the earl say. “Whoever thought to engineer it meant no harm towards the king. Whether they sought to damage my reputation, or my wife’s, or her brother’s by association, I cannot tell you, madame. I should like to be able to, but alas, the two conspirators who approached Luca knew no more than that a serving woman had given them each a gold piece to involve Luca in a plan to enter the Tower illegally and remove Warwick. They had never seen the woman before, nor have they since.”

  “A woman’s ploy,” Lady Margaret said slowly. “Who have you or your brother-in-law offended?”

  “Luca swears no one, as do I. I have been much too busy since Lucianna came to England with courting her. It is curious that you would believe a woman is involved, for my wife said the same thing.”

  “Did you indeed, madame?” Lady Margaret said, with a small and wintery smile. “Does your brother speak true, or does he attempt to hide his pecadillos from you?”

  “Luca speaks the truth, madame,” Lucianna said. “Remember that we are twins, and I always have known what he is thinking. He has always confided in me alone.”

  The king’s mother nodded. “Have you made an enemy, madame?”

  “Not to my knowledge, madame. The only females with whom I have any congress are servants. There has been no opportunity for me to make friends with any. My closest companion is my serving woman, Balia, who has been with me several years.”

  Lady Margaret understood. She was a woman whose time had been taken up guarding and guiding her only child’s safety and future. She had no brothers or sisters, and if truth be known, she trusted no one but herself and her son. Trust was something that could be betrayed. She had learned that at an early age when the first marriage contract arranged for her had been dissolved. A great heiress, daughter of John Beaufort, the Duke of Somerset, she had been married at twelve to Edmund Tudor, and found herself a widow at the age of fourteen, several months before her son was born. She had never feared for herself, only for her child. She had done everything for him. In the end, she had seen him obtain the crown of England.

  “I am relieved, then, to learn this is just some foolish mischief, and not a serious threat to the king,” she told her two guests. “I think that Luca Pietro d’Angelo may return home safely now, but first he must identify the two miscreants for me. Perhaps a little torture will loosen their tongues further. Foolish or not, I would know the architect of this plot that was no plot.”

  Listening, Cat Talcott was horrified by her mistress’s words. Then she realized that the two bumbling fools her serving woman had recruited did not know the woman, nor from where she had come. She hoped, nonetheless, that they had already fled when the silk merchant refused to attempt to go with them to the Tower. Perhaps she would do well to send the wench packing, but no. She needed her servant.

  Moving away from the door to Lady Margaret’s privy chamber, Cat Talcott went to discreetly join the other ladies. Hopefully they would not have missed her. If only she had been able to implicate the silk merchant in a plot against the king. It would have for certain tarnished the reputation of his sister, and the earl would realize his error. Lady Margaret would see that the marriage was annulled. The foreign woman would be sent packing.

  And when that happened, she, Lady Catherine Talcott, daughter of the Earl of Southwold, would become the wife of Robert Minton, the Earl of Lisle. Ever since she had overheard Lady Margaret discussing such a possibility with an older lady in her household, Cat Talcott had dreamed of such a marriage. They were well matched as far as bloodlines went, and her dower portion was respectable. She was perfect for him. Certainly the foreign bitch could not be, but she had obviously bewitched Robert Minton. Now Cat would have to think of another plan to rid herself of her rival. And she would.

  Lady Margaret called her page to her from the garden, where he had been amusing her ladies with a song. “Thomas, fetch me the captain of the guard,” she told the boy. They waited, and when the soldier appeared, Lady Margaret told him, “Send a small troop of men-at-arms with Master Pietro d’Angelo. He will take you to an inn to point out two traitors to His Majesty. Arrest them, and put them in the Tower for questioning.”

  “What if my refusal to aid them has caused them to flee?” Luca wondered aloud.

  “More than likely they have not,” Lady Margaret told him. “They are greedy fools who, I suspect, agreed to aid in this plot only for the coin put in their hand. Still, I must make certain of that myself. However, I cannot help but wonder why someone would conspire in such a foolish intrigue.”

  “I doubt our two miscreants will know, madame,” the earl said. “As I said, my wife says this is a woman�
��s doing.”

  “Interesting,” Lady Margaret replied thoughtfully. Then she dismissed her two visitors, who joined the men-at-arms, leading them to the tavern Luca visited each evening.

  As the king’s mother had predicted, the two were already drinking their coin away. Luca quietly pointed them out and departed before they might see him. He did not bother to watch, concealed, as the two were dragged protesting from the tavern. That evening, he returned to have the tavern keeper tell him that “his two friends” had been arrested that same afternoon.

  “They were no friends of mine,” Luca said. “They thought because I was a foreigner they might get me to buy them drinks. I am a respectable silk merchant and do not consort with men like that. Do you know why they were arrested?”

  The tavern keeper shrugged. “Who knows, with men like that?” he said. “More than likely they offended someone. I asked one of the soldiers where they were being taken, and he said the Tower.”

  “This Tower,” Luca responded, pretending ignorance, “it is a prison for scum?”

  “It is a prison for all manner of men, and sometimes women,” the tavern keeper said dryly. “Best you never see the inside of it.”

  “I’ll be returning to Florence shortly,” Luca told him. Then he took his mug of ale and found a seat in a corner.

  Lady Margaret sent the next day to tell the Earl of Lisle that torture had gained no answers. The two bungling conspirators could not tell the king’s mother who had required their services. There was no real treason involved at all, as Lucianna had suspected.

  “Now can we go home?” the Countess of Lisle asked her husband.

  “We will go home,” he told her.

  Luca’s passage was arranged. Her brother would depart London in a week for Florence. The earl and his wife would go home on the morrow.

  “It is unlikely we will see each other again,” Lucianna told her twin brother. “It is important that I give Roberto an heir, and I will not leave my child to travel.” They sat together in the hall of her London dwelling the evening before his departure.

  He nodded, understanding completely. The safe and loving childhood that they had shared with each other and their siblings had come to an end for them. Only their youngest sister, Serena, remained at home. Luca knew he would marry sooner than later and have his own family. It was the way of the world. Still, he had always hoped that Lucianna would remain near him. Having shared their mother’s womb, and much of their lives together, he was saddened to realize it was very unlikely they would see each other again. “You will write?” he asked, knowing she would but wanting to be certain.

  “I will,” she replied. Then she smiled, teasingly. “Will you?”

  Luca laughed. “Now and again,” he promised. “You know I am not much of a correspondent, Sister.”

  “Now and again will do, Luca,” Lucianna said. Then she said, “There may come a time when our mother can no longer write to me, and I should not like to be entirely cut off from the family of my childhood.”

  “Does Francesca write?” he asked her.

  “Francesca?” Lucianna sniffed. “She is too busy ruling her son’s duchy to bother with a younger sister. And Giorgio’s ambitions are entirely focused on gaining the red hat of a cardinal. Having been in Rome all these years, he considers little else. Or so our mother writes.”

  Luca chuckled. “However, if he gained a cardinal’s biretta, our mother would consider it every bit as prestigious as a good marriage for one of her daughters. She would shout it to any and all who would listen to her. It is not likely, though. Our sister Bianca’s scandalous behavior has touched us all.”

  Lucianna said nothing. Her brother did not understand the situation the way she did. Her elder sister’s second union was for love. Love was important, as Lucianna had discovered. While her own first marriage had not been the horror that poor Bianca’s had been, both of them had chosen their own second husbands. It was Bianca’s choice of an Ottoman prince that had caused the scandal that would have harmed her sisters’ chances at marriage, except for their determined mother. Yet her second daughter was a duchess, and now the third was a countess.

  Lucianna’s twin brother, however, had always been particularly close to their mother. She had doted upon him, especially after having birthed her last child, another daughter. Lucianna knew that Orianna would be very happy to see Luca come home. As for her twin brother, she knew he would be delighted to be back in Florence, even if he was no longer a military officer.

  “I will miss you,” she told him.

  “And I, you,” he responded.

  “You will take care of our parents, Luca. Marco is more interested in his women, and our youngest sister will eventually be wed. They will need you,” Lucianna told him.

  He nodded. “I will remain at home, even if I wed, to see they are cared for, but of course our mother will never admit to any need.”

  Lucianna laughed. “No, she will not, nor would I. Our mother is a proud lady, Brother, but you will see she never realizes that you are looking after her welfare when she needs such care.” Lucianna rose to embrace her brother. “We go at first light, which comes early at this time of year. Be safe and be happy always, Luca, my brother.” She kissed his cheek.

  “And you be happy as well, sister mine,” he said, returning the kiss. He dared say nothing else, for he realized that he was feeling an actual pain at the knowledge he was unlikely to ever see his twin sister again in his lifetime. He wondered if she felt the pang as well.

  In the early light of the predawn, the Earl and Countess of Lisle departed London for their home at Wye Court. While there was less urgency for this trip than their previous one to London, they were both eager to resume their ordinary lives. Once home, they settled back into the pattern of their everyday life. The earl spent his day managing his estates while his countess spent her time overseeing her household and the village, which was her obligation as well.

  Lucianna found that this new lifestyle, while vastly different from her previous responsibilities, seemed to suit her very well. If there was one thing missing, it was a child, but Balia assured her the child would come. Especially considering all the time Lucianna and her husband spent together in their bed. “You have been wed but a few weeks, my lady.” Hearing this tart observation, young Mali giggled and then blushed when Balia shot her an outraged look.

  The king sent to Robert Minton to tell him that the pretender had been crowned King Edward VI by the Irish in Dublin. There was bound to be war eventually, and it came quickly. The forces of the Yorkist rebels had landed in Lancaster, and they had already begun their march over the Pennines. The Earl of Lisle was summoned to join the king’s forces.

  “Why must you go?” Lucianna asked him. “Men of property do not go to war in Florence. That is why Lorenzo keeps an army.”

  “In England,” he explained, “it is a man’s duty, be he of high station or low, to support his king in battle. This will be over quickly, and these Yorkist pretensions must be put to rest once and for all. This should end it, although I would have thought the battle we fought at Bosworth several years ago ended it.”

  “Is it possible this boy is who he says he is?” Lucianna wondered aloud.

  “Nay, he is not. King Edward’s sons disappeared from the Tower and were never again seen.”

  “How long will you be gone from Wye?” Lucianna inquired.

  “However long it takes to defeat these rebels, amore mia. I like it no better than you, but I cannot refuse to go. And I must take with me a small troop of men, most of whom are unlikely to return, for the fighting will be hard, Lucianna. This is a battle for a kingdom.”

  Her mother had never had to face her husband going off to a war, Lucianna thought, but then she was not her mother. And she was no longer living in Florence. She was English, and living in a northern land where loyal subjects joined their
king in battle.

  “You cannot know for how long you will be gone,” she said. “Will Worrell be able to manage in your absence? What should I know that I do not, Roberto? What must I do to help and keep Wye Court safe?”

  “Worrell will see to the land and the stock, but you will have to oversee my records, which include the births of beasts. There are at least two more heifers almost ready to calve. Worrell will tell you if they are bull or female, and you must enter that in my books. We grow and make almost all of what we use and need. You will know what you need should a peddler come to the village. I offer hospitality to any who come peaceably, and so must you, even if I am not here,” he explained.

  “I understand,” she said. “And hopefully you will not be gone long.” Wars, she knew, could last for months. “But how am I to recognize friend from foe? I would not unknowingly give hospitality to a Yorkist rebel, my lord.”

  “The battle will be more north,” he said. “It is unlikely any Yorkists will come this far south, for we are too close to Wales, the stronghold of the Tudor family.”

  “Who leads these rebels?” Lucianna asked, curious.

  “The Earl of Lincoln, one of the last of the Plantagenets. King Richard made him his heir after his own son died. And I suspect Lord Lovell is involved too.”

  The names were familiar but actually meant little to her, as she had not become involved in the court. Lucianna nodded. “Do you think they can win?” she queried her husband.

  “In war, no one can be certain who will win,” he replied. “The king has sufficient forces, but so, I suspect, do the rebels.” What she was really asking him was whether she thought he could come home safely, but of course he could not answer her one way or another. He put his arms around her. “This is likely to be quick, amore mia. And hopefully it will be the last of it.”

  “I hope so,” Lucianna said softly. She didn’t want him to go, but then what woman sent her man off to war willingly? She could not make it more difficult for him by weeping. She wasn’t the only woman in England now with a husband going off to war.