Next to her, Saturnino stiffened, and she felt the weight of his gaze. Ravenna kept her attention where it ought to be. It pained her to smile at Galeazzo Sforza, disgusted her to see his answering grin, sly and knowing.
Ravenna forced the words out. “The honor is mine, Vostra Grazia.”
“I hope you’ll allow me a dance,” he returned, and his voice had turned husky, as if he’d drawn a curtain around them, isolating her from the others. Acid coated her tongue; she could only nod. But it was enough. She had caught his interest.
His evening belonged to her now.
“Well now,” Lorenzo said. “It’s nice to see you at least trying to enjoy yourself, Galeazzo. You’ve been much too serious of late.”
“Given the state of the world, I would think you’d understand why,” Signor Sforza returned dryly. His eyes flickered back to Ravenna. “But I thank you for dragging me to Florence. It has been a much-needed respite with many pleasures to offer.”
His marked interest in Ravenna seemed to amuse Signor Medici, as if he were used to his friend’s wandering eye.
“What brings you to Florence, Vostra Grazia?” Ravenna asked. “Are you here for business?” She swallowed hard and forced herself to add, “Or is it only pleasure you seek?”
Signor Sforza grinned at her, appreciative, and in his eyes, Ravenna could already see how he was imagining spending the evening with her. Twirling around the ballroom before sneaking her out into the back patio, finding a secluded spot…
It took everything in her not to shudder.
“There is always time for both,” he said easily.
For a man who had both wealth and a dukedom, Ravenna believed it. “How long will you be visiting Florence?”
“I’m afraid matters at home require my attention,” he said. “I’ll be leaving tomorrow morning.”
Her throat went dry. There would be no second chances if she failed.
“So soon?” Signora Luni exclaimed. “I thought you meant to stay for the rest of the month.”
Signor Sforza inclined his head regretfully. “I’m afraid not, signora.”
“Leonardo has made much progress on his designs,” Signor Luni commented. “And it was good of you to bring him tonight.”
Ravenna’s gaze flew to Signor Luni, her mind recalling the intriguing sketches she’d seen. The artist had been a bundle of barely contained energy and ideas, a young visionary who only needed to have the time and space to put his thoughts down to paper. Her eyes traveled across the hall in search of Leonardo until she finally found him by the banquet tables. He was dressed in a black-and-green doublet and peering at a familiar statue that had been placed as the centerpiece.
It was familiar because it washers.
Her breath caught; she’d nearly forgotten about her Pluto, still adorned by a single Nightflame that glimmered blue fire in the soft, golden lighting.
Signora Medici groaned in mock consternation. “Please do not mention him, signore, or else Lorenzo will not speak of anything else for the rest of the night.”
Ravenna dragged her attention back to the conversation.
“Leonardo da Vinci,” Signor Medici said, his tone mild, “is a young man on the verge of genius and greatness. We will go down in history, mark my words, for not only discovering his talent, but nurturing it. Did I happen to tell you of his latest invention, tesoro?”
“Only several times,” she said with a little sigh.
Signor Medici raised his wife’s arm and gently kissed the back ofher hand. “I am, as ever, eternally grateful for your support in these matters, Signora Medici,” he said with a rueful smile.
“But as a matter of fact,” Signor Sforza said to Signor Luni, “there has been a new development.” He glanced at Ravenna pointedly. “But perhaps we ought not to bore the ladies with such talk. Find me later, signore.”
Signor Luni’s eyes glittered. “You may count on it.”
Ravenna looked between them with a masked politeness, filing away the conversation in case she needed to appease the courier with a tidbit of information. Her spine tingled with an inner knowing, a sense that something larger was in play. But before she could dwell further on the idea, a handsome man stepped through the banquet hall entrance, his arm held out for the most beautiful woman Ravenna had ever seen in her life. Her golden hair swept past her shoulders in ringlets, like liquid sunlight spilling over the green hills of Volterra. The shade beautifully contrasted with the deep rose hue of her gown. Jewels glimmered at her ears, throat, and wrists, but her face was the greatest treasure. She had luminous blue eyes, rosy cheeks, expressive brows, and a gentle smile aimed at her escort.
The man said something in her ear, and she tipped her head back, laughing. Lorenzo de’ Medici followed the line of Ravenna’s sight and sighed. Except it wasn’t in anger; the accompanying grin spoke of a tender fondness for the newcomer.
“Forgive my brother,” he said. “Late as usual.”
