Allegra

by C. De Melo

  “Yes, shapes,” Domenico chimed. “La Castagna embellishes greatly on Allegra’s rudimentary ideas.”

  Bruno grimaced. “It’s unfair that your daughter’s talents are being used to the exclusive benefit of the enemy.”

  Allegra’s mouth fell open. Enemy?

  “It’s not like that, Signore Bruno,” Vittorio countered.

  “Very well,” Bruno conceded. “If we are to continue doing business as partners, then I expect Signorina Allegra to provide sketches for me. I want to see more Spinelli commissions coming into the bottega, and less La Castagna. Is that agreeable to you, Signore Vittorio?”

  Vittorio gave little more than a curt nod.

  A servant entered the room carrying a tray. While she doled out tankards of ale, Allegra caught Bruno staring at the aquamarines adorning her throat.

  “May I take a closer look at your necklace, Signorina?”

  His request made her heart sink, but how could she refuse? With trembling fingers, she undid the clasp and reluctantly gave him the necklace.

  He turned it over and frowned at the sight of the familiar chestnut stamp. “Did La Castagna give this to you?”

  “The woman who commissioned it died before it was completed,” Allegra replied, hoping the hastily constructed fabrication sounded true.

  Vittorio added, “Why let a good piece of jewelry go to waste?”

  Bruno’s face darkened as he handed the necklace back to its owner. “I find it hard to believe that none of you suspect this man’s identity.”

  “I send the sketches via courier and receive the finished product in the same manner,” Vittorio said. “The messengers never divulge anything. I imagine they are paid well by their master to keep quiet.”

  “Not to mention fear of getting whipped,” Domenico added for good measure.

  Looking at Vittorio and Domenico in turn, Bruno said, “I wish to speak with you about our apprentices and their working environment. I believe we can make several improvements.” Glancing at Allegra, he added, “Surely, Signorina Allegra doesn’t need to be present for such boring details.”

  Allegra bit back an angry retort as her eyes flashed in outrage. To add insult to injury, neither Domenico nor her father said anything to contradict Bruno’s blatant dismissal. Reluctantly, she left the room. To her chagrin, the men resumed speaking only after she’d closed the door. Appalled by her conflicting emotions, she closeted herself in her bedchamber.

  Gianna poked her head into the room a moment later. “Signorina?”

  “Did you hear him, Gianna? The audacity!”

  “Keep your voice down.”

  “Signore Bruno is an ogre!”

  “There, there. It’s not like you to get so worked up.”

  “First he hates La Castagna and now he hates me.”

  “I can assure you that Signore Bruno does not hate you.”

  Allegra’s eyes welled up with tears. “He was quite rude to me…”

  “He flattered you the other day at the market.”

  “I’m sure he’s equally flattering to Signora Paolina.”

  Gianna stifled a smile at Allegra’s display of jealousy. “His dalliance with that tawdry woman will soon come to an end, don’t you worry.”

  Allegra sniffed. “Do you think so?”

  “Only a blind person would fail to see the admiration in his eyes when he looks at you.”

  The affirmation made Allegra smile as she wandered to the window. The sun shone brightly in the sky, warming the courtyard below. “I think I’ll take advantage of this fine weather and read outdoors for a bit.”

  Gianna smiled. “A splendid idea.”

  Allegra wrapped herself in a wool cloak, selected a book, and sat in the sunshine. Her mind raced, making it difficult to concentrate on the printed words. Bruno’s temperament was like a pendulum, going from one extreme to the other; brooding one moment, charming the next.

  She read quietly, the warm sun making her drowsy. I’ll close my eyes for only a few minutes…

  The sound of Vittorio accompanying the Spinelli men down the outer stairwell startled her. She must have fallen asleep. Quickly, she smoothed the creases from her skirt and sat up straighter on the bench. As they crossed the courtyard, Bruno caught sight of her and paused to speak with Vittorio. At the latter’s nod, he walked toward her.

  “Signorina Allegra?”

  She shaded her eyes to peer up at him. “Yes?”

  “I underestimated your value at the bottega. I wasn’t aware of how much work you did until our fathers educated me. Please forgive my lack of chivalry toward you earlier.”

  “You may rest assured, the matter has already been forgotten.”

  He looked down at his feet. “You must think me an uncivilized beast.”

  “I wouldn’t go as far as calling you a beast, sir.”

  He winked mischievously. “That’s because you don’t know me yet.”

  The look in his eye and the insinuation of his words made her breathless.

  “I wish you a pleasant day, Signorina Allegra.”

  “Likewise, Signore Bruno.”

  Later that afternoon, an urgent message arrived from Bianca. Allegra went to see her Venetian friend early the next day.

  Adorned in rose satin with several strands of pearls around her neck, Bianca announced, “I’m heading out to purchase something delicious.”

  Puzzled, Allegra said, “You asked me to come see you today.”

  “Yes, I want you to come with me. Francesco loves panforte.”

  Allegra’s gaze fell on one of Bianca’s maids. “Why not have one of the servants fetch some?”

  “The weather is good and I feel like going out,” Bianca replied with an innocent smile before planting a swift kiss on Allegra’s cheek. “I insist that you accompany me.”

  “Very well.”

  “Shall we come too, Signora Bianca?” inquired one of the servants.

  “No. Fetch my cloak.” The servant came out with a red brocade cape lined with miniver and placed it over Bianca’s shoulders. She caressed the luxuriant fur as they descended the stairs. “Gorgeous, is it not?”

  “Fit for a queen,” Allegra replied, for the cape was truly stunning.

  “A gift from my beloved.”

  “Francesco has excellent taste.”

  “The very best.” Once they were outside in the sunshine, she took Allegra’s arm and whispered, “We’re going to meet him now, in fact.”

  “I thought we were—”

  “Hush, my dear. There’s plenty of panforte where we’re going. I didn’t want to say anything in front of my servants because I can’t trust anyone these days. Oh! The gossip, the rumors…”

  Bianca maneuvered through the crowded piazzas and back alleys with the expertise of a pickpocket on the run. She finally stopped at a doorway. They were unescorted and far too well-dressed to dally in the street.

  Allegra looked around apprehensively. “We should go inside.”

  Three sharp raps and the door opened into a richly furnished chamber. A discreet servant removed their cloaks. A crystal decanter of wine beckoned them from a table in the center of the room. Bianca motioned to the maid, who poured the ruby liquid into two delicate Venetian glass goblets.

  “Where are we?” Allegra asked, admiring an intricate tapestry depicting two naked lovers embracing in a flower garden.

  Bianca dismissed the servant and handed a goblet to Allegra. “We’re in a private hideaway—one of several that Francesco and I use in the city.”

  Allegra took a sip of the wine. “This is superb.”

  “It comes from Poggio a Caiano, one of Francesco’s villas in the countryside.” Bianca waved her hand. “Well, what do you think?”

  The room was small but exquisite. On closer examination, Allegra noticed a round table in the corner, its surface made of inlaid marble. The skillful intarsia depicted a maiden with seashells covering the nipples of her bare breasts. In the center of the table sat a plate of
pink marzipan shaped into little hearts, along with a generous slab of panforte.

  “I’m overwhelmed,” Allegra replied.

  Bianca popped a heart into her mouth. “These are divine. Have one. They make the color from rose petals. You can taste the flower, too.”

  Allegra dutifully tried a little pink heart and smiled. Her eyes wandered around the room, marveling at the beauty and costliness of the furnishings. On the mantelpiece was a silver and enamel clock, its tiny mechanisms whirring away behind a glass case. Directly behind the clock was a magnificent Venetian mirror etched with a floral motif along the edge. Above their heads was a Venetian chandelier fashioned from red glass.

  She beckoned for Allegra to follow her into an alcove. “Oh, but you haven’t seen the best room yet.”

  Allegra stepped through a tiny hallway that opened into a spacious bedchamber. All four walls and the ceiling were frescoed with life-sized figures painted in vivid flesh tones. The undulating scene depicted a Bacchanalia in an idyllic garden full of exotic flowers and birds. Nymphs, centaurs, and humans frolicked and took delight in various forms of carnal pleasure. Allegra spun around slowly and tilted her head upward to admire the frescoed blue sky where Cupid and Venus looked down upon the celebration. In the center of the room stood a massive canopied bed hung with sheer linen. She also noticed mirrors set into the painted scene at certain angles so that whomever was upon the bed could be reflected into the revelry. It was a room created specifically for the physical acts of love.

  To Allegra’s chagrin, she imagined Bruno naked upon the bed, beckoning her to join him. The inappropriate thought made her ache with a peculiar longing that was totally unfamiliar—and exciting.

  “Well?” Bianca asked, her expression eager.

  Although the room was undoubtedly vulgar, the artwork had been executed with tremendous skill. “Remarkable,” Allegra replied, surprised at herself for not being shocked by the erotic scenes.

  Bianca hugged her friend. “I told you that Francesco is good to me. He let me decorate these rooms by myself. I knew you’d like them.”

  “Who painted the frescoes?”

  “Pontormo,” Bianca replied, admiring one of the naked male figures.

  Allegra became uncomfortably aware of the intimacy that took place within this room—intimacy that had nothing to do with her.

  “Come, let’s sit in the other room,” Bianca said. “Francesco will be along any minute and he wants to speak with you.”

  “Oh?”

  “That’s why we’re here.”

  “Why does he want to speak with me?”

  “I don’t know,” Bianca replied. “He wouldn’t tell me, no matter how much I begged.” The sound of horseshoes on cobblestones echoed throughout the alleyway outside. Giddy with anticipation, she went to the tiny stained glass window. “We’ll soon find out.”

  The door opened and Bianca flew into Francesco’s arms. Feeling uncomfortable, Allegra turned her face away as they kissed.

  “Signorina Allegra, how good of you to come,” Francesco said, striding into the room in a smart doublet of red wool trimmed with silver thread.

  “My lord,” Allegra said with a respectful curtsy.

  “Has my beloved given you a tour of her latest project?” he inquired, spreading his hands out to indicate the space around them.

  Allegra nodded. “It’s magnificent.”

  He sat down and Bianca placed her hands on his shoulders. “Signorina Allegra, what do you know about La Castagna?”

  “Only that he’s talented and in high demand. We’ve always dealt with him through couriers.”

  “I see,” he said, rubbing his chin. “Anyway, there’s a rumor that you provide La Castagna with sketches. Is that true?”

  “Only rough sketches of what clients want, then he greatly embellishes on them,” Allegra lied. Where was this leading? Had someone complained to the magistrates?

  “I want to commission a necklace.” Allegra almost sagged with relief as he continued, “It must be spectacular and unlike anything you’ve ever seen. This is why I thought it best to meet with you in private. Discretion is imperative.”

  Bianca’s eyes were wide with surprise.

  “You may rest assured, my lord,” Allegra said. “We are exceptionally discreet. I assume this necklace is to be a gift.”

  “A Christmas gift, yes.”

  Bianca’s eyes grew impossibly wider.

  “May I ask who is to be the receiver of this fine gift? Knowing the lady will aid greatly in creating the design.”

  Francesco took one of Bianca’s hands and kissed it. “It’s for my one and only true love, Bianca Cappello.”

  “Oh, my darling!” Bianca exclaimed before hugging him. “Thank you!”

  “I will get some sketches to you as soon as possible,” Allegra promised.

  “I can’t wait to see them,” he said between Bianca’s fervent kisses.

  Allegra inquired, “Shall this necklace be fashioned from gold or silver? I also need to know which gemstones to use, or would you prefer pearls?”

  “Diamonds and gold,” Bianca replied on her lover’s behalf. Turning to him, she added, “I already have so many pearls, dearest.”

  “You may choose whatever you like,” he replied indulgently.

  “You’re so good to me,” Bianca whispered before claiming his lips.

  Francesco pulled her onto his lap, his hands gripping her hips.

  Sensing the mounting passion between the two lovers, Allegra went to the door. “Perhaps I should take my leave now, my lord.”

  Bianca peeked over her shoulder and smiled as Francesco said, “One of my guards will see you home safely, Signorina Allegra. Thank you.”

  Allegra fanned her face when she got outside. Several guards lolled about, looking at her from head to toe. She straightened her shoulders and announced, “One of you must see me home safely.”

  They fought each other for the privilege of being her escort, and the winner was a burly man with an easy smile. Oddly, on the way to the Palazzo Castagno, he chatted about wild hares and the various ways to eat them.

  Allegra started on the sketches the moment she got home. Taking a piece of graphite into her hand, she sat down and stared at the blank sheet of vellum on the table. Picturing Bianca’s face and neck, she began to draw a choker. One row of small diamonds, then a space of delicate gold filigree, then another row of diamonds. The next row in the same order, only bigger stones, followed by a third row with the biggest stones she could obtain. Finally, a scalloped border of tiny diamonds. Only Bianca could effortlessly carry off such a bold piece.

  To avoid appearing arrogant, Allegra created a few more sketches and waited several days before seeking an audience with Francesco de’ Medici. Predictably, he chose her first design.

  Vittorio set out to obtain the diamonds while Allegra cut, shaped, and curled the gold filigree with painstaking care. She set out to create her finest necklace yet, and worked diligently for many weeks. At one point, she fell asleep on the workbench from sheer exhaustion.

  With Gianna’s help, Vittorio put his daughter to bed. “I’ve told her to stop working so hard lest she become ill.”

  “She’ll kill herself at this rate,” Gianna lamented. “You must stop this.”

  “Do you remember how stubborn her mother was?”

  “Vividly.”

  “Well, add my stubbornness into the equation.”

  “Lord help us,” Gianna said under her breath.

  Vittorio woke up early in the morning the following day and went into the workshop where his daughter was already working. Two dark smudges beneath her eyes stood out in stark contrast with her pale skin.

  “Papa,” she said, startled.

  “You cannot continue to work at this pace, Allegra. It’s unhealthy.” She was about to protest and he placed his hand up to silence her. “I know this commission means much to you, but nothing is more important than your health. Take a rest today.”


  “I can’t, I must finish—”

  “No, Allegra. Today you will rest.”

  Chapter 20

  Christmas 1572

  “I sent a note to Domenico and Signore Bruno, inviting them to join us today,” Vittorio said to his daughter while the two of them broke their fasts in a stream of muted sunlight. “There’s no reason why the four of us can’t celebrate the holy day together.”

  “Perhaps Signora Paolina has other plans for Bruno.” Allegra regretted her words the moment she saw the look on her father’s face.

  “Domenico mentioned that his son has broken off with her,” Vittorio said with forced nonchalance. “Bruno Spinelli is an eligible bachelor.”

  “Well, there are plenty of ladies in Florence for him to choose from.”

  “Including yourself.”

  “He hates La Castagna, remember?”

  “Yes, but he doesn’t hate you.”

  “We are one in the same.”

  “You can always retire…”

  Allegra stared at her father with a mixture of shock and hurt. “Being a goldsmith is what I live for.”

  “I realize that, my dear, but there are other joys in life.”

  “Like marriage? My friends Bianca and Isabella were terribly matched, and let’s not forget poor Lucrezia, poisoned by her own husband.”

  “Allegra, you must learn to control that tongue of yours. The temper, too. Not all men are rogues.”

  “That’s exactly what Bruno said to me when I was a young girl, yet who did he run to when he arrived in Florence? Paolina Gori, the whore.”

  “Allegra!”

  “Forgive me, Papa, but I only speak the truth.”

  “Your mother and I indulged you too much. Being our only child, we wanted to please you. Were we wrong in allotting you so much freedom?”

  “Please don’t think that.”

  “You and I will attend Christmas Mass together, then Bruno and Domenico will join us for supper. I expect proper comportment befitting a lady this evening.”

  “Yes, Papa.”

  Later that day, Allegra chose to wear the gown the seamstress had created from the splendid periwinkle blue fabric she had bought at the market. The sky had grown dark and several menacing clouds drifted low on the horizon. Bruno and Domenico arrived with the first drops of icy rain. The servants stoked the fire in the hearth, then set out trays of spiced wine and roasted chestnuts. Vittorio led the men into the warm, candlelit library.