Silk Merchant's Daughters: Francesca Part 25

He nodded in agreement. "Of course," he said. "'Tis very wise."

The priest remained for several weeks, leaving in mid-January when there was a brief thaw. But before he departed he learned a secret that Francesca had been keeping close to her heart. He scolded her gently for it, saying, "You must tell him, my daughter."

"I will," Francesca promised the cleric. "I wanted to make certain myself."

"She is more than certain, as am I," Terza, who was with her mistress, said tartly to the priest. "She should have revealed her condition weeks ago, but she fears he will want her to sit by the fire for the next few months, and of course she will not. Nor should she."

"When is the blessed event to be, my daughter?" the priest asked.

"Terza says sometime in July," Francesca answered.

"I will be here then to see the infant baptized," the priest promised.

"Now will you tell him?" Terza demanded to know.

"Tonight," Francesca promised.

The priest departed the inn that same day. He would return to the town and give what comfort he could to those who remained. She was sorry to see him go, for she missed the comfort of her church here in the forest, as she had been her whole life used to having her faith as her companion. It was difficult when there was no priest.

That evening, the meal over and most of the inn's other inhabitants gone to their beds, Francesca and Carlo sat by the fire in the kitchen, which they found cozy.

"The priest told me before he left that I must share my secret with you, my love," Francesca began.

"You have a secret?" he asked her, amused. "What can it be?"

"You are teasing me," she replied.

"I love teasing you," he told her, leering naughtily at her.

Francesca laughed. "Perhaps I shall keep my secret, then," she said.

"You know I hate secrets!" Carlo reminded her. "I will apologize if you will tell me your secret."

"Hmm." She pretended to consider. "Well," Francesca began, "perhaps I will relent, since you are being so nice."

He leaned forward and, catching a hand, kissed the inside of her wrist. "You and I should never have secrets from each other," Carlo told her. "Tell me, my love."

"We are having a baby," Francesca said simply. "Terza says sometime in July."

His handsome face registered his surprise, but then he said, "You cannot have a baby here, Cara. There is no doctor, nor a midwife to take care of you!"

"Most women birth their children without a doctor or even a midwife," she said.

"And many die from the lack of care," he replied. "I will not have you dying because we have no proper support. You are not some peasant to sp.a.w.n in a field! We must find a way to get you to Florence for your sake and my heir's."

"No." She said it quietly, but he heard the firm tone behind the word.

"Cara, be reasonable," he pleaded with her. "You cannot remain here in the forest when you are enceinte with my heir. You need to be where our child can be delivered safely, kept safely. An inn in the forest is not that place."

"And you think putting me in danger by exposing me to all sorts of risks while I attempt to reach Florence will keep us safer?" she demanded. "No, Carlo. I will remain here, where I now belong, and my women will help me deliver. Your heir will not be born in Florence. This child will be born in Terreno Boscoso. Perhaps not in the castle of the Cesares, where his sire was born and his ancestors were born, but he or she will come into the world in this duchy, not in some foreign place."

"I am not content with this foolish decision, madam." He was suddenly the duke he was born to be.

"Then be discontent if you will," she responded. "I will not, cannot, be forced from my home." Then, pulling her hand from his, Francesca rose and left him sitting before the kitchen fire.

He didn't know what to do. She was right. Attempting to force her to leave the inn for Florence could put her in more danger than simply letting her have her own way.

But he could not help being concerned. He would speak to Terza the next day and see whether she would agree with him, for Francesca, if she listened to anyone, listened to her longtime serving woman.

But Terza agreed with her mistress. "What if someone recognized her on the road?" she said to him. "There is no real disguise that can hide her great beauty. The Milanese might turn her over to the French to gain their favor. They would care for her until the child was born, and then murder them both. No, no, my lord! My lady is safer here and so is the child. Remember who you really are and that this child is your heir."

He accepted his defeat then, and with his wife's permission told the rest of the inn's inhabitants proudly that he would soon be a father. The huntsmen cheered him and then spent the winter's day getting drunk in his son's honor, for a man like Carlo would certainly sire a son. Among them only Bernardo remained sober. He had suspected that Francesca was with child, for he had noticed her suddenly growing plumper.

He had kept his suspicions to himself. He was also quite aware of who Carlo really was, for in the duke's youth when he had been simply his father's heir, Duke t.i.tus had shared that information with his head huntsman so he might keep an eye on the boy. It was Bernardo who had actually taught the duke to hunt. He was therefore fully knowledgeable of who Francesca really was and how important the child she now carried was. He made it his mission to watch over her as he had once watched over her husband, for he admired her bravery and practical nature. She might have been born to wealth and privilege, but she was no overproud aristo.

The winter months pa.s.sed peacefully. The snows were heavy, but then they began to melt with the coming spring. The days grew a little longer and slowly warmer. The huntsmen began to leave again for their forest haunts. Finally they were all gone but for Bernardo, who remained. "You need another man here," he said when asked why. "With Cara so heavy with child now it is important to have enough protection. If the French were to venture this deep into the forest, another man would be a deterrent." And he could not be moved, nor would he speak on the matter further.

The duke was not unhappy with his company. "He knows who we are," he said to Francesca. "He has known all along but kept silent, and is unlikely to acknowledge it."

"He is a good man," she replied. "I am honestly glad he remained. Have you noticed of late how oddly Matteo is behaving? I believe our months here in the forest have not agreed with him. I wish we might send him away, but perhaps I am being unfair. Still, I do not trust him as I once did."

"He is not used to the isolation," Carlo said. "He is, after all, a castle servant. I think it is easier for women to adjust to this lonely life. And having to treat you and me as equals, and calling us by our Christian names, is difficult for him."

"Husband, only Balbina is content, as she has Bernardo to f.u.c.k her when she wants him, and he is always glad to service her. But what of Terza and Roza? Perhaps my faithful Terza is content because she is with me and we have been together since I was a child. But poor little Roza is young. I suspect she harbored dreams of marrying one day. There is no opportunity here for her to wed. Yet she is loyal to me, bless her."

"Matteo is probably going through a mood," he told her. "It is spring, after all. I will take him out in another day or two so we may set some rabbit traps."

"Be watchful nonetheless, even if you think me foolish, my love," Francesca advised her husband.

He put a loving arm about her, resting his free hand on her great belly. "He will be a big lad," he noted, and then chuckled as the infant kicked at the hand.

"Terza says I am as big if not a bit bigger than my mother was when the twins were born," Francesca said softly.

He grinned down at her. "I like the idea of two heirs, as long as you are safe." Then he kissed the top of her head.

"It could be two heiresses," she warned him. "You may desire a son, my lord, but only G.o.d almighty knows what will be."

"Terreno Boscoso has had two ruling d.u.c.h.essas in its time," Rafaello told her. "Of course, they were then compelled to wed with distant Cesare cousins to maintain the purity of our family descent."

"You mean a daughter can rule if she is firstborn?" Francesca was surprised.

"If there are no sons, yes," he answered. "And in the case of the two d.u.c.h.essas who ruled, there were no brothers."

"So, you will be content if our child is a daughter," she said.

"I will be content as long as you are both safe from any harm," he declared.

"I will keep praying for a son," Francesca said. "A son first is always best."

"It is," Rafaello agreed. "And we will call him Carlo, after his father. Carlo Rafaello t.i.tus."

"I am just sorry we cannot communicate with my parents in Florence to let them know we are alive and we have a child coming," Francesca said sadly.

"When the child or children are born and I can tell them you are all well, I will find a way," he promised her.

s.p.a.ce was cleared for a summer garden, and it was planted so they might have food into the autumn and even some to store. The days grew longer, and Francesca's belly seemed to grow larger. Terza was now certain her mistress carried twins, telling all who would listen that Francesca's mother had been every bit as large with her twins, Luca and Lucianna.

"Her labor was surely long and difficult," Balbina said. "G.o.d and his blessed Mother help our mistress."

"No," Terza told them. "Her labor was swift, to our amazement. Her previous labors had been hard, but with her twins Mistress Orianna popped those two out as quickly as a raindrop rolling down a window. Pray it will be so for our mistress. And then, when she birthed her last child, it was as it had been with all the others but the twins. I never understood it, nor did anyone else."

Francesca's time finally came. She began her labors in early evening, and the first of the twins was born just before midnight. "Tell me! Tell me!" she demanded of her women, who were all attending her.

"A son!" Terza said. "And listen to him howl with his impatience," she chuckled, handing the infant to Balbina, who saw the little one cleaned and then swaddled. The plump cook held the baby boy against her ample bosom, quieting him, a large smile upon her face. "Shall I take him to the duke?" she asked.

"Yes, take him to Carlo, his father," Francesca corrected her gently. Then she gasped. "The pains are beginning again!" she exclaimed. And two hours later she birthed the second of the twins.

"A daughter!" Terza told her, "just like your mama."

"Let me see her," Francesca said happily.

"Let Roza clean and swaddle her first," Terza advised. "You still have a bit of work left to do. You have delivered your babies every bit as easily and quickly as your mama did all those years ago. She would be very proud of you."

"Prouder if we still held the duchy," Francesca murmured.

"You are alive and the infants seem healthy," Terza told her. "Be grateful and thank Santa Anna, your patron, and the blessed Mother, who was her daughter," the serving woman advised.

"I will," Francesca promised. She quickly expelled the afterbirth, and Terza cleaned all evidence of the births away. It was then that Roza put the female twin into her mother's arms. The infant was awake but quiet. She stared briefly at her mother, and then, as if satisfied with what she saw, closed her eyes and slept. "Take her to her father and bring me my son," Francesca said. She had barely seen the boy before he had been removed so his father might view his heir.

But before that might be done Rafaello came into the bedchamber, holding little Carlo in his arms. "What a lad!" he explained, well pleased.

"And here is your daughter," she said, handing him the baby as he set their son in the crook of her arm. "I should like to call her Giovanna, after my father. Giovanna Maria Blanca. Maria for the blessed Mother, and Blanca for my sister Bianca."

"Will your mother object to Blanca?" he asked her gently.

"This is not my mother's daughter," Francesca said. "She is ours. It is not likely my mother will ever see this grandchild, even if we can manage somehow to bring them word of these births, my love."

He nodded. "Carlo and Giovanna. They are good names," he agreed. "The priest arrived this evening before dark. We must choose G.o.dparents for the twins and let them be baptized quickly, so he may be on his way again."

"Bernardo will serve both children as their G.o.dfather. Terza will be G.o.dmother to each twin," Francesca decided. "With your approval, of course."

"I will not argue such choices," he agreed with her. "They will be so proud of the honor," Rafaello chuckled, "and honestly I prefer it. Had you birthed these infants in the castle we should have had to choose some high-and-mighty lordling who would have sent a rich gift without seeing either Carlo or Giovanna. Bernardo and Terza will help raise them and protect them. Yes, you have chosen well, my love."

The twin infants were baptized in the dining hall the day following their birth. Francesca was carried there so she might observe the proceedings. This was where the priest always held his services when he visited the inn in the winter. Overwhelmed at first by the great honor bestowed upon them, Bernardo and Terza performed their duties perfectly, and each child howled, outraged to be awakened as cool water was poured over its small head. The priest was pleased by this, claiming any demons inhabiting the two innocents had now been driven away by the holy baptismal waters and would not return.

The priest then departed, promising to see them again sometime in December.

It was full summer now. Francesca quickly recovered her strength and nursed her infants happily, and took up some of her duties as the innkeeper once again. Rafaello doted on his two children, marveling at how quickly they grew. July came to an end, and then August. It was September, and the few apple trees in the inn's small orchard needed picking. Francesca realized they must begin in earnest to prepare for the arrival of their guests in late October and early November.

Though the twins' cradles were in their bedchamber Francesca and her husband had begun to make love again. The birth of their children had released them from their self-imposed abstinence, and they were more eager than ever to share their pa.s.sion.

"Do you think we wake the twins when we cry out while lovemaking?" he wondered one night. "You pleasure me so, my love, I cannot help myself."

"If they are awakened they make no sound," Francesca said, caressing his smooth chest with teasing fingers. She bent to kiss his nipples. "And when they do, then they must go in with Terza and Roza." She nipped and licked where she had just kissed.

"Good," he responded, pus.h.i.+ng her upon her back and licking each of her nipples in turn. "Jesu! You excite me! I suspect you will always be this alluring, my love, may G.o.d have mercy on me." Then he began to kiss her pa.s.sionately, his lips devouring her, and his head spun with the simple pleasure she gave him.

She murmured her own pleasure, returning his kisses, her body eagerly yielding to him, her heart beating wildly. Was a husband supposed to continue to excite his wife after the birth of their children? When he nudged her thighs she opened to him eagerly. She wanted his thick length filling her with pleasure, sending her spinning through a cosmos of delight. She cried out as he did. "Carlo! Carlo!" she whispered in his ear. "Ohh, how I love you, my sweet husband!"

"And I you, beloved wife," he answered her, groaning as the hot walls of her sheath closed tightly around him. "Jesu, Cara, you are so sweet. So sweet!" He began to move in her, his heart beating with a mixture of excitement and unbridled l.u.s.t.

Her body rose to meet his every downward thrust. She whispered encouragement in his ear, repeating her vow of love over and over again until they were both dizzy. And then, unable to restrain himself any longer, he released his tribute into her eager womb, reveling in her cry as her body shuddered with her own pleasure. Afterwards he cradled her in his arms, nuzzling the top of her head with his lips, telling her softly of his great love for her. And they slept until Francesca arose to nurse the twins, content and happy with the life she now led. How odd that she should be happier here in the forest as an innkeeper than in their castle as the wife of a ruler.

The trees were now beginning to put on their autumn colors. One afternoon Rafaello and Matteo were up on the inn's roof, making certain the slates were all in good order. Terza and Francesca were in the dining hall of the inn, polis.h.i.+ng the tables, when they heard the rain that had been threatening all day begin. And then there was a loud thump. Startled, the two women looked at each other. Then they heard Bernardo shout in his deep voice, "Villain! What have you done?"

Dropping her cleaning cloth, Francesca ran outside, followed by Terza. Seeing her husband lying motionless on the ground, there was no doubt in her mind that Rafaello was dead. She gave one shriek of heartbreak, and then, looking to the roof, saw Matteo cowering. "Get down!" she ordered the man. "Get down now, for if you do not, as G.o.d is my witness, I will come up and pull you down myself! Get down!" Her voice was icy.

"It was an accident," Matteo cried, but he remained where he was. "It was an accident, my lady. The wet slates caused him to lose his balance, I swear it."

"Get down, liar! Before I kill you with my own bare hands I would learn why you have done this thing. Why have you killed the duke? To what purpose? Was he not always generous and fair to you, Matteo? Tell me why."

While she was speaking, Bernardo had quickly climbed to the inn's roof. Swiftly he scrambled across the wet slates and reached out to capture Matteo before he might escape. "Speak, villain!" he demanded of the now-terrified serving man. "Tell her why, or will you go to your death with another sin on your black soul?"

"The French!" Matteo gasped, barely able to speak with his fright. "The French promised to pay me to do the deed even before we fled the castle. They gave me a gold coin and said there were nine more should I be successful. But there was no opportunity at the castle. I have had to wait this long."

"Gold? You slew my husband for gold? This was not a cruel, unfair, or unkind master, Matteo. This was a good man."

"I will get my gold now," Matteo said, unheeding of her words. "With ten pieces of gold I can buy a little farm, find a wife," he told her. "I have done the French a great service. Now there is no duke of Terreno Boscoso to trouble them."

"There is Duke Carlo," Francesca said quietly. She was torn between anger and despair. She could barely look at Rafaello's body. If she did not see it perhaps she could convince herself this was all a nasty dream.

"That infant? No three-month-old child can rule," Matteo said.

"No, but I can, you fool! I can rule, along with the council, in my son's name," Francesca told him.

"You said we would never return to the castle as long as the French were there," he said. He was not quite so afraid now. If he was quick he could escape the roof and make a run for it. With patience he could reach the town. Tell the French what he had done, tell them where the d.u.c.h.essa and her infants were hiding.

Francesca saw the sly look in Matteo's eyes as they s.h.i.+fted about, looking for the right moment to jump. "Kill him!" she said to Bernardo.

The huntsman shook the surprised servant by the collar. "Slowly or quickly, my lady?"

"Just do it. I do not want to hear the sound of his voice again." She looked at Matteo. "You will burn in h.e.l.l for what you have done this day, traitor, but G.o.d will protect me and my children."

Bernardo let the serving man live long enough to hear her curse. Then, without a moment's hesitation, he snapped the man's neck. It was that sound that finally forced Francesca to realize the true state of things. Her strength evaporated, and she fell to her knees beside her husband's broken body, weeping furiously. "My love, my love!" she whispered over and over again, until finally a sobbing Terza, with Roza's help, lifted her mistress and brought her again into the inn.

As she did, Bernardo sought a spade and began to dig a grave next to the house. Matteo's body, which he had tossed from the roof before descending, he would take deeper into the forest and leave for the wild animals. The man did not deserve a Christian burial for his wicked crime. But as he finished digging, Terza came out to speak with him.

"She will not have him simply put into the ground. There must be a coffin. One day, she says, she will take him home to be buried in his family's crypt. Roza and I will wash him and dress him in clean garments."