Lucianna (15 page)

“Oh, my lady,” Balia said, stepping back a pace. “I only wish your mother could see you in this gown on this day. You are every bit a beautiful bride. You must wear no jewelry to take away from your perfection.” She wiped her eyes, and then said, “This is what Master Alfredo would have wanted for you. A good husband, and the prospect of a happy marriage.”

Lucianna smiled softly. “Aye,” she said. “I know he would bless this second union I am about to make. He was a good man.”

There was a knock upon the dayroom door, and Argel stuck her head in. “Oh good,” she said, “you are ready. “The master is as jumpy as a boy about to get his first kiss,” she said with a chuckle. “Ah, my lady, you look beautiful. Your brother awaits to escort you.”

“Has the priest arrived?” Lucianna asked.

“Aye,” the housekeeper said. Then she added, “’Twas most generous of you to include the servants and cottagers. We are all honored to share in this day with you.”

Lucianna nodded. “You are now all my English family, and I am grateful for it,” she replied.

Luca was waiting in the corridor when Lucianna stepped from her chamber. “Santa Anna!” he exclaimed, “How beautiful you are, Sister.” He escorted her down to the hall where the earl was awaiting her. The bridegroom was garbed simply so as not to take the glory from her. His hose were silk. The length of his sea blue doublet, which he wore over a white cotton shirt, was short, but his deeper blue coat was trimmed with fur. About his neck, he wore a large gold pendant.

“Good morning, my lord,” Lucianna greeted him. “How handsome you look. I have never seen you garbed quite so elegantly.”

“I might return the compliment, madame. You are even more beautiful today than I have ever seen you,” he answered. “It is said, of course, that all brides are beautiful,” he told her, and smiled.

Luca harrumphed audibly.

Lucianna ignored her brother. “I am pleased that my garb meets with your approval, my lord,” she said, curtsying.

“I suspect,” he told her as he took her from her brother, and whispered in her ear, “that you are even more beautiful without it.”

She felt the warmth in her cheeks. “So bold,” she murmured back to him, but she smiled as, much to her surprise, he escorted her to the courtyard. “Where are we going?” she asked him.

“To the village church,” he told her. “We will walk the distance so our cottagers may get a better glimpse of you. You have invited them to share in our day, Lucianna. I am pleased you did so, and would have them share it all from beginning to end.”

“I had not considered walking,” she responded. “I hope it is not too distant, for my pretty silk slippers are not fit for long walks.”

“Not far,” he promised as they began a walk down the hill upon which Wye Court was set. Luca walked behind them.

The day was glorious, with a flawless sky and bright sunshine. The narrow little road from the manor house was lined with cottagers.

Recognizing a few faces, she directed smiles at them, to their delight. And he had not prevaricated. The village church was just a few steps from the base of the hill, and it was filled with Wye Court’s servants, and certain of those considered the more important of the villagers.

Together, bride and groom walked up the aisle to the waiting priest. Lucianna had not felt particularly like a bride when she had wed Alfredo Allibatore, but today she felt every bit the bride. And she found she did regret the absence of her parents. But even if they had traveled at top speed, it would have taken more than a month for them to reach England.

Besides, her mother did not travel quickly and must have several trunks with her to assure a wardrobe she could tolerate. No. It was better this way, with only her brother to give her away. And who knew if Balia wasn’t correct, and some lass, neighbor, or someone from among the queen’s ladies was waiting to snatch Robert up? But they could not. He was hers now. She smiled as she gave Father Paul the proper answers to the vows he asked of her.

And then it was over. Robert Minton took Lucianna in his strong arms and kissed her most thoroughly, to the delight of those in attendance. Lucianna blushed, hearing someone among the crowd say, “We’ll have an heir before very long now, won’t we?” And those in the little church who had heard the remark nodded in the affirmative. But Luca scowled, for such candid chatter was unseemly, he thought to himself, but then these English were plainspoken.

Outside, they found someone had brought their horses down so they might ride them back up to the house. The earl lifted his new wife carefully into her saddle, and their eyes caught briefly. He said nothing, and neither did Lucianna. She must keep calm, she reminded herself, until after the feasting was over. Lucianna saw the servants running ahead of them so they would be ready to give service.

They rode slowly through the crowd of estate folk, smiling. The earl greeted many by name and laughed at their bawdy humor, answering them back in friendly fashion. Lucianna saw how well he treated these people. They were his, barely out of serfdom, but he treated them with respect and kindness.

“They love you,” Lucianna noted.

“I have grown up with many of them. My father was a good lord. I hope I am too,” he answered her.

“Those treated with respect more often than not give better service,” she replied. “My father said it often.”

The morning slipped into afternoon. With late spring, the day would be a long one. By midafternoon, all had been fed, and some of the casks of ale were empty, the remainder running low. The tables that had been set in front of the river were slowly emptying as the estate folk departed for their homes while it remained light. Even the hall began to empty of the more favored of the Wye Court folk. Luca had disappeared with a very pretty village girl.

“Has it been a happy day for you,
amore mia
?” Robert asked her, tipping her face up to his.

“It has,” Lucianna told him. “I never expected such a fine second wedding day, my lord.”

“Your first was not?” He was surprised.

“Alfredo had been most direct with me. Our marriage was not a romantic liaison. He wanted a pretty wife to care for him in his old age. My parents obliged him out of desperation. We wed in my family’s church, and I was gowned as befitted a bride. But my family invited few guests, angry that those families who had sought after Bianca and Francesca had not wanted me. Our wedding supper was small.”

“You consider this a
romantic liaison
?” he asked, having heard little of what she said after those two words.

“I love you,” Lucianna said simply. “You have said that you love me,
amore mio
. Is that not romantic?”

He pulled her into his lap from her chair at the high board where she had been seated next to him. “Yes! It is romantic,” he agreed, “but there is more to romance than mere words.”

“I know,” she told him, blushing. “I know what I must do, and what is expected of me.”

“No woman ever really knows that first time, Lucianna, and it will be your first time,” he said softly in her ear as he cupped a breast in his palm. “The first time, I have been told, can be heaven or hell.”

“Who told you such a thing?” Lucianna said to him.

“The venerable Lady Margaret. She lectured both her son, the king, and me on the matter when we were lads. She said milkmaid or lady, a woman in a man’s bed must be treated with kindness no matter her rank. I don’t know if the king listened, but I did.”

“Have you had many women in your bed?” she inquired of him. She was, after all, his wife now, and she should know just how experienced he was. But from the fingers teasing her breast through the cloth of her gown, she suspected his expertise was more than sufficient.

He laughed. “I have had enough women to satisfy my manly appetites, but now I have you. I shall have no others.”

“Do not promise such a thing, my lord,” Lucianna surprised him by saying. “All men of wealth and stature have mistresses. It is expected of them. As long as you love and respect me as your wife, I will not complain. Wise women do not.”

“Perhaps in your Florence, this is so. And certainly even here in England some men keep mistresses. But there is no shame put on a man who doesn’t and is faithful,” he explained.

“Do you have any bastards?” she asked, again startling him.

“No! Certainly not to my knowledge.” And then he laughed. “I wonder how many other brides have discussed such a thing on their wedding day, madame. We are obviously well matched, as you, it would seem, are as bold as I am, sweetheart.”

Lucianna giggled. “My poor mother would be horrified with such a discussion as we are having. But what if I don’t please you, my lord? If you vow to be faithful and I disappoint, I will relieve you of your foolish promise, Robert.”

He gave her breast a little squeeze. “We cannot determine that, madame, until I have bedded you,” the earl told her. He tipped her from his lap. “Go upstairs, and prepare yourself for me.”

His words gave her pause for thought. Not even turning back as she slipped from his lap, Lucianna departed the hall, and as she reached the stairs, Balia joined her.

“You will not be sleeping in your old chamber now that you are the earl’s wife,” she explained. “There is a suite for the earl and his countess to cohabit. Argel and I have spent the afternoon preparing it for you. It is a lovely apartment, my lady. I hope you will be very happy there.” Then the serving woman led her mistress upstairs to her new quarters, which were indeed lovely. “Now that you are his wife,” Balia said, “you must choose a lass I may teach to help me with your care. I will remain her senior, but you must have two serving women, my lady. ’Tis expected of a lord’s wife.”

“How will you know who to choose?” Lucianna said.

“Argel has a niece, Mali. I have spoken with her, and she seems a nice lass, my lady. I have asked her to help me disrobe you. This will give you the opportunity to see if you like her.”

“Very well,” Lucianna replied. “I expect if she pleased you, she will please me too.”

Mali was awaiting them in the new countess’s apartment. She curtsied deeply as Lucianna entered the rooms. She could not have been older than thirteen, Lucianna thought, greeting her. She had a plain, freckled face, and, smiling shyly at her new mistress, she revealed a row of surprisingly perfect front teeth. Her dark brown hair was pulled back, but even so, several recalcitrant strands insisted on sticking out. Aware of them, Mali was forever attempting to put them in order.

Her brown eyes were full of eagerness to please.

Balia began instructing the girl in simple tasks. “Take off my lady’s slippers and stockings,” she instructed her. “Put them aside, and I will show you afterwards where they belong.”

Shyly, Mali set to work to complete her task.

“It was a beautiful day,” Balia remarked. “Your mother would have enjoyed it.”

“Perhaps, but she would have been surprised by all the estate workers asked to join in the festivities,” Lucianna said.

Balia laughed. “I suppose that is true,” she agreed. “She would have been filling your ears with her plans on how to improve everything here, and would have even offered to remain to help you do it.”

“My father might have let her, and then hurried home to Florence by himself,” Lucianna said. “I think it better my mother was not here today. I do not know if Robert could have borne a year with her, for she would have remained here at least that long. Luca will go back to London shortly, though he will still share the London house.”

“What of your youngest sister?” Balia asked. “Would your mother have left her behind? I don’t believe she would have.”

“No, she would not have, but at least I would have had Serena here to amuse me. Perhaps she might have found an English husband too,” Lucianna said thoughtfully.

Mali listened to all this conversation, for it had been spoken in English, and not that funny foreign tongue they sometimes used when they were together. She wondered if she might learn it, but then decided no. There was too much she had to master first to be a good maidservant to her ladyship. Even being second in the new countess’s personal household gave her a certain ranking among the other servants, which she had to admit she would enjoy. Especially with those two boisterous housemaids who had come into service with her from the village. They were noisy lasses, always giggling together and flirting. One of them had gone off this evening with the mistress’s brother. Mali knew it was her quiet demeanor that had recommended her to Balia.

“Where shall I put her ladyship’s shoes?” Mali asked the older woman. She knew that the stockings would go into the laundry.

“You will find racks for them in the wardrobe chamber,” Balia told her. “Then come back, and help me with these skirts.”

Mali did as she was bid, hurrying to put the shoes away.

“She seems biddable,” Lucianna remarked in Italian.

“She is,” Balia answered her in the same tongue. “She is a quiet maid who keeps her own counsel. I did not want a chatterbox or gossip like so many of these other English girls are. And she is clever enough to learn all she must learn quickly. These English winters are difficult. What if I grew ill? You must have someone to care for you besides me. Especially now that you hold rank, my lady. Your husband should appear stingy if you did not have at least two personal servants.”

“Like the king, except with his mother and his wife,” Lucianna said, with a smile. Then she switched back to English. “Robert is everything that is good and kind. I am fortunate.”

“So is he!” Balia replied, with a smile. “Ah, Mali, here you are. Let us get these skirts off my lady. We will need to brush them before they can be stored away.”

Lucianna was soon divested of her wedding finery. She bathed, lightly smiling as Balia instructed Mali to refill the pitcher and see it placed in the hearth to keep warm in the night. The bride noted that her new serving girl shyly kept her eyes from her mistress’s nakedness.

Well, Mali would get used to it in time, Lucianna decided as Balia slipped a silk sleep chemise over her.

“See to the bed, lass!” Balia instructed her junior, indicating that Mali should turn back the coverlet so Lucianna might enter the bed. When it had been done, they helped her settle herself. Then both women curtsied and, bidding their mistress good night, left her.