Lady of Asolo (18 page)

I remember the brief visit of Maximilian at the banquet, when I was first introduced to Lodovico. ‘He looks at the Venetian territories with envy,’ the Queen said at that time. My husband has never made any secret of the fact that he’s a
ferrarese
first and foremost. Could he have married me for my closeness to Caterina Cornaro? She doesn’t get involved in the highs and lows of politics, but her brother, Giorgio, is the
Provveditore Generale all’Armata
, in charge of the Venetian Army.

She glanced around for Zorzo, but he’d vanished along with the child. Her head spun and she felt sick. A man was approaching with a glass and a bottle of something in his hand; she’d seen that man before.

‘This should help.’ The man froze and stared at her breasts. ‘Fern! Your blouse is damp.’

She felt the cold wetness seeping through her chemise. Only it wasn’t her chemise, was it? It was her work dress, the white one she’d worn to the opera with Aunt Susan, that she’d put on especially for her dinner date with Luca.
Bloody hell!
Cecilia wasn’t supposed to come to her here. This villa hadn’t been around in her time.

‘Cecilia has given birth,’ Fern said. ‘And my body thinks I have too.’ She took in a deep breath and let it out again slowly. ‘I know who Lorenza is.’

‘Cecilia’s daughter?’

Fern nodded. ‘And I was pregnant once.’

‘Oh?’

‘I lost the baby.’

Luca took hold of her hand. ‘I’m so sorry, Fern.’

‘All my fault.’

‘How could it have been your fault?’

She told him. About her so-called wonderful career, about her ambivalence towards the baby, about her refusal to take care of herself. Then, she told him about the guilt. The dreadful, unrelenting guilt. And how Harry’s death was her punishment.

‘You’re being far too hard on yourself,’ he said, putting his arm around her.

‘No, no. Don’t you see? It’s why Cecilia chose me. She didn’t miscarry, but she lost Lorenza all the same. I think she’s searching for her.’ Fern felt her lip tremble; she straightened it. ‘I’ve decided I’ll have to follow her story to the end. I need to find out what happened to Lorenza.’

He rubbed her hand. ‘It’s getting a bit chilly out here. Why don’t we go back to my place for that coffee?’

She shot him a look and he smiled. ‘No strings.’

‘That’s all right, then.’

Luca’s flat was only a couple of minutes’ walk from the Cipriani, at the top of an old palazzo in Via Canova. The views from the roof terrace stretched as far as the Dolomite mountains to the north and the Venetian plain to the south. ‘It’s stunning,’ Fern said. ‘Have you lived here long?’

‘About a year. I moved in just after I split up with Francesca.’

‘I’ve been meaning to ask what happened between you, but I didn’t want to pry.’

‘The chemistry wasn’t right. Something stopped me from introducing her to the family, so they never knew about her. In any case, we weren’t together long.’ He paused. ‘Are you ready for that coffee?’

‘Have you got any herbal tea?’ She rubbed her arms; the evening had become cold. ‘I’ve had my caffeine allowance for the day.’

‘We’ll go through to the kitchen.’

She watched him fill the kettle, and recalled their love-making. It wasn’t that she wanted it to happen again. But she couldn’t help noticing the strength in his hands as he turned the tap, and remembering the feel of those hands on her body.

Luca reached up to the cupboard for two mugs, his shirt rising to expose his flat belly. Designer jeans, Armani, tight against his buttocks. Swallowing hard, she made herself glance away.

‘Sugar?’

‘No thanks,’ she croaked.

‘Are you all right?’

‘Fine.’ Except she wasn’t fine; she was burning with the need to press her lips to his, to run her hands down his chest, and for him to do the same to her. And, and . . .

No, Fern. No.

‘Going back to Cecilia,’ she said, making an effort to keep her voice steady. ‘I read in the book Aunt Susan loaned me about Caterina Cornaro, that the Queen was in Venice when the Barco was destroyed.’

‘Correct.’

‘The book doesn’t give much information about the whys and wherefores.’

‘I’ll try and find out for you, if you like.’

‘I’m interested in knowing where Ferrara stood. I mean, if the Duke supported Venice or the Emperor.’

‘More likely the Pope. And
he
had a hatred of the Venetian Republic.’

‘Oh? Why?’

‘Because the Serenissima had taken control of several of the Papal States.’

‘The Serenissima?’

‘The Most Serene Republic. Venice.’

‘And the Pope wanted them back?’

‘Got it in one,’ Luca said.

‘Zorzo told Cecilia that the Pope had formed an alliance with the Emperor Maximilian.’

‘He wasn’t called the Holy Roman Emperor for nothing.’

‘I thought the Roman Empire was long gone by then?’

‘These emperors were German, but liked to think they held supreme power inherited from the emperors of Rome.’

‘Why the “Holy”?’

‘Because from the 10th to the 16th centuries the Holy Roman Emperors were crowned by the Pope.’

‘I’m beginning to see a connection here.’

‘Yep,’ Luca said.

‘Although, of course, I won’t be able to warn Cecilia.’

‘One thing’s for sure. We can’t change the past.’

‘Not like
Back to the Future
, then?’ Fern gave a nervous laugh.

‘Absolutely.’ Luca glanced at his watch. ‘Time to get you home, I think.’ He jangled his car keys.

Sitting next to him in the Alfa while he drove her to Altivole, Fern wondered if Luca regretted making love to her. The fact that he’d kept his distance while they were at his flat had made her feel torn. Physically, she’d wanted him desperately. If he’d made the first move, she’d have fallen into his arms in spite of her earlier resolve. Yet, at the same time, she’d felt a huge sense of relief that he hadn’t made that move.

Perhaps he’d had second thoughts after she’d told him about losing her baby?
No. Couldn’t be. He’d said you were being too hard on yourself.
And she was; she knew she was. Only she couldn’t help it. Part of her personality, she supposed. All her life she’d been told to lighten up.

‘Penny for them?’ Luca asked, as he brought the car to a halt outside Aunt Susan’s.

‘Sorry?’

‘Your thoughts. Penny for your thoughts. One of Ma’s favourite expressions. You’ve been so quiet.’

‘Are you sure you don’t hate me?’

‘Why would you think that?’

‘Maybe because I hate myself a lot of the time.’ There, she’d said it. Given voice to the darkness within.

He stroked her cheek, his eyes looking deep into hers. A sob rose up. He kissed her tears and enfolded her in his arms. ‘Darling Fern,’ he said between kisses. ‘I love you so much and I’d give anything for you to love me in return. But you can’t do that, can you?’

‘I wish I could. I really do.’

‘You need to love Fern first. Don’t you see that?’

‘What do you mean?’

‘Accept yourself for who you are. The good, the bad, and everything in between.’

She nuzzled against him. Why hadn’t her therapist picked up on this? Then she remembered she hadn’t told her therapist about losing her baby.

‘One step at a time, Fern,’ Luca said. ‘You’ve taken that first step tonight, I think.’

‘I hope so.’ She kissed his cheek, catching the scent of his after-shave. ‘Will I see you tomorrow?’

‘There’s a rehearsal, don’t forget.’

‘Of course.’

Standing at the front door, she watched him drive off. Already, she felt bereft. How was she going to feel when she went back to London?

The house was quiet; Aunt Susan must have already gone to bed. Fern cleaned her teeth and put on her nightie. She slipped between the cool sheets and closed her eyes.

I study my husband eating, his jaws chomping like a lizard’s while he chews his meat. ‘I received a letter from the Duke today,’ he says, taking a swig of wine. ‘He wishes me to purchase a painting by Zorzone.’

Hearing my true love’s name spoken by Lodovico cuts me to the core, and my hands tremble with the effort of not showing any reaction. Zorzo is a part of me I have learned to keep hidden from the world, however. I haven’t seen him these past five months, since he came upon me at the castle. Whenever I think about him, these days, I find it hard to reconcile myself with the carefree girl who threw herself at him without a thought for the consequences.

‘Oh.’ I keep my voice nonchalant. ‘How interesting. Which painting?’

‘There’s a rumour of an un-commissioned work in his studio. A lute-player serenading a woman as night falls.’

Fear grips me. If Lodovico should see the painting, he’ll recognise me. ‘Will you go to Venice, then?’

‘Momentarily.’

We finish our meal in silence, as usual. Conversation between us has always been sparse. Hard to believe we’ve been man and wife nigh on two years. Years filled with sorrow at being apart from Zorzo and, at the same time, the happiness of my Lorenza.

Lodovico gets to his feet. ‘I shall visit you tonight, Cecilia. Be ready for me!’

I drop into a curtsey to hide my consternation. What has brought this on? Perhaps he no longer has a woman in Ferrara? It’s been months since he and I lay together. As if reading my thoughts, Lodovico says, ‘Time you gave me a son, wife.’

When he comes to my bed, I lie still with my legs apart and he lowers himself on top of me. I turn my face away from his slobbering. Grabbing my arms so hard I’m sure he leaves bruises, Lodovico thrusts into me; I’m dry and it hurts. He finishes quickly and gets up from the bed. ‘It’s like sticking my prick into a wooden doll. Have you no passion, Cecilia?’

Not for you, husband.
‘’Tis not in my nature,’ I lie.

He leaves me and I wash my nether parts in the bowl of water I keep by the bed. I have to get rid of his seed. Then I go to check on Lorenza, who sleeps with her nursemaid in the room next to mine. She’s lying on her side, with her thumb in her mouth. I stroke her soft cheek, and whisper, ‘Heart of my heart. I’ll do anything for you, to keep you safe. Sleep well,
bambina mia
, and in the morning we’ll visit my lady.’

Lorenza’s nursemaid lets out a snore while I tiptoe out of the room. My daughter is weaned now, and so lively that Lodovico insisted we take on a
bambinaia
for her. Granted, I’m able to spend more time painting, yet I wish I could keep my child with me every hour of the day.

The next morning, I feel battered and sore. This is the last time I’ll put up with Lodovico’s brutish advances, I swear to myself. I have some dried valerian herbs in my medicine chest, given to me by Fiammetta. ‘I use them with Rambaldo,’ she said. ‘If I don’t feel in the mood for “you know what”, I stir them into his night-time wine and he sleeps until midday.’ She’d handed them to me with a knowing look.

After breaking my fast, I take Lorenza to see my lady, who is visiting Asolo. We discover huge excitement in the Queen’s castle; the servants are scurrying around, packing coffers. Dorotea grabs my daughter from me and gives her a kiss. ‘We are to go to Venice. You and your husband too. The Queen insists.’

‘Why?’

‘There’s been a battle. My lady’s brother has defeated the Emperor Maximilian. And Giorgio Cornaro has also taken Pordenone and Gorizia for the Republic. Hurry home and pack your travelling chests! We depart on the morrow.’

My heart sings at the thought of going to the city where Zorzo lives; he’ll be part of the celebrations, I’m sure. Yet, also, my belly constricts with worry. If Lodovico finds the painting he seeks for the Duke of Ferrara, all will surely be lost. And how will I fare without Lorenza? The Queen doesn’t allow children to travel with the court to Venice. It will be impossible to take her with us. ‘Where’s my lady?’ I ask, thinking I might request a special permission.

Dorotea hands my daughter back to me. ‘The Queen is the domina of Asolo, isn’t she? There’s famine in the countryside and she has imported grain from Cyprus. She always puts her people first, and is distributing flour to them.’

‘’Tis true. There’s no one as dutiful and kind as my lady; we’re all in her shadow.’ I take my leave of Dorotea and hurry home.

Lodovico is pacing up and down the hallway. He scowls when he catches sight of me. ‘We are commanded to go to Venice.’

‘Does that not please you?’

‘Humph. The Emperor has been humiliated.’

‘A good thing, don’t you think?’ I hand Lorenza to her nursemaid and remember my suspicions about my husband. Surely Lodovico is on the side of the Republic?

I stare at him, but my vision blurs. Then, it is as if I’m gazing down on myself from a great height. A feeling of dread overcomes me and,
Maria Santissima
, I start to swoon. My legs buckle from beneath me and I crumple to the floor.

Fern opened her eyes. Morning already. She’d been dreaming, hadn’t she? Yes, definitely a dream. What was it about? Her head felt fuzzy and her mouth was dry.
Must get a glass of water.
She swung her legs from the bed. Her privates were feeling a bit sore. Probably all the riding she’d been doing while staying at the villa.

In the kitchen, Aunt Susan glanced up from her manuscript, a red pen in one hand and a cup of tea in the other, Gucci Cat curled up on the rug by her feet. ‘Sleep well?’

‘Very deeply. I feel a bit woozy now, though.’ She grabbed a glass from the draining board and filled it from the tap.

‘Sit down, my lovely. You look pale. Have you had another funny turn?’

‘No, I don’t think so. Although I did dream about something. Can’t remember what, to be honest.’

‘There’s a packet of
brioches
in the cupboard.’

‘Thanks.’ Fern poured herself a mug of tea, added milk then placed a
brioche
onto a plate.

‘Any plans for today?’

Fern gave a start. She put down her mug, the tea souring in her mouth. It was as if a video had started to play in her head.
Poor Cecilia!
Fern shifted in her seat to ease the discomfort between her legs. She could remember the feel of Lodovico’s weight on top of her, his slavering tongue, his vice-like grip.

A sudden thought,
There’s somewhere I need to go.

‘Think I’ll visit Venice again. I’d like to stroll around on my own and do a few sketches.’

‘Fine by me.’ Aunt Susan settled her glasses on her nose. ‘But I thought you had a rehearsal with Luca tonight? Will you be back in time?’

‘Oh no! I’d forgotten.’

‘Why don’t you give him a ring? I’m sure he wouldn’t mind if you cancelled.’

Fern went to the phone and dialled Luca’s number. Before she had a chance to mention the rehearsal, he said, ‘I’m so worried about Chiara. She’s taken a fall from her horse and has badly broken her leg. It’s being operated on now.’

‘Oh my God! I’m coming over straight away.’

‘Ma’s with her and I’m about to go to the hospital. Can we meet up later?’