“Do not threaten me with the Church,signora,” he said. “Need I remind you that my kinsman is Cardinal Rovere? I will deny before him everything your daughter has said of me. The Church will not believe the hysterical ravings of a young woman over a man of my reputation. Women are known to lie more times than not.”
“If a man’s word is so sacrosanct,” Orianna said, “why did you permit your son to dispose of a dead courtesan rather than simply leaving her to be found in her bed? If your son told you the truth,signore, and the woman simply expired of excess, there would have been no marks of violence on her body to say otherwise. Once Stefano and our Marco came to you and told you what had happened, you became as complicit in their actions as if you had been involved personally. I do not believe that is proper behavior for a man of the court, is it?”
“Is it your habit to let a woman speak for you, Pietro d’Angelo?” Rovere demanded angrily. The bitch was far too clever.
Giovanni Pietro d’Angelo almost felt sorry for his son-in-law. He knew better than most that if her sex had not relegated her to the role of wife and mother, Orianna could have ruled Venice and Florence both. “I am a man of few words, Rovere,” he said drily. “My wife, however, makes an interesting point.”
“You will give Bianca an annulment,” Orianna told their guest.
“On what grounds?” Rovere demanded angrily. “I have used your daughter well these past months. And you cannot claim I am at fault! I am known for my passion, and for my prowess. There isn’t a courtesan in Florence who would say otherwise,” he bragged with a smug smirk.
“Is the world privy to your marriage bed?” Orianna wanted to know. “You will say that Bianca has denied your husband’s rights. That she has said she will give you no children. The Church will be satisfied, and our generous gifts will grease the way. There need be no shame upon you,signore. You do not love Bianca, and certainly she holds no love for you. You have had what you wanted of her. Now let her go.”
“She will wed again, have children, and give lie to such charges,” Rovere said. “It is then that people will talk, and I shall be made to look the fool.”
“You have spoiled my daughter for marriage,” Orianna said. “It is unlikely she will wed again but for love, and if she did it would not be in Florence. When the annulment is granted, she will go to live with one of my sisters. She will be gone from this city, and its excesses.”
“You have figured this all out to suit your purposes,signora, but Bianca ismine. I will not let her go. You will return her to me, and she will live in my palazzo until she dies there,” Rovere snarled at Orianna.
It was then that Giovanni Pietro d’Angelo spoke in a quiet but commanding voice. “My eldest daughter will never be returned to you, Rovere. If you would now accuse my son, Marco, of that courtesan’s death, know that I will accuse Stefano. Your eldest son is now married into a good family. I am told his wife is expecting her first child. Will you expose a foolish and youthful indiscretion for the sole purpose of forcing an unwilling woman back into your bed?
“I must take a certain amount of blame for this travesty, for I should not have allowed the marriage between you and my daughter to take place at all. My wife begged me to reconsider, but I was not thinking clearly, and could only see misfortune if I did not acquiesce to your demand. I was wrong, and Bianca has paid for my error in judgment. I will not allow her to be further abused. Grant her an annulment, and let us be done.”
“Never!”Sebastiano Rovere spat. “I will find her! It matters not where you have hidden her. I will find her! You cannot keep her from me. She is my wife.Mine!I will be certain she pays for her duplicity towards me. Her punishment will be slow, and it will be painful. I will break her proud spirit, and she will never again defy me.”
The more he spoke, the darker his face became with his rage. There was spittle at the corners of his lips as his voice rose until he was shouting at them.
“You are a fool,signore,” Giovanni Pietro d’Angelo said. Then he called for his servants to remove the furious man from his home. “Put him out in the street where he belongs. He is not to be admitted to this house ever again.”
Two strong servingmen literally dragged Sebastiano Rovere from the palazzo. Having lost all sense of dignity in his outrage, the man struggled and cursed at them. They in turn were not inclined to treat him gently or with respect. One of the men in fact put a boot to Rovere’s behind, giving him a final hard shove out the front door of the palazzo, where Rovere sprawled facedown on the cobbles.
He scrambled up quickly, shouting and shaking a fist. “You will regret this, Pietro d’Angelo! I will have my revenge on you and your family! See if I don’t!”
They did not hear him inside the palazzo, for the walls of the building were several feet thick. After Rovere had been dragged shouting from the chamber where they had all been, Orianna collapsed into a chair, her face in her hands. Her husband heard a sob, but only one, and after a moment or two she uncovered her beautiful face. Her look was determined. Giovanni had seen that look several times over the course of their marriage. It meant she was ready to do battle, and she would not lose.
“He is a mad dog,” Orianna said quietly. “He should be put out of his misery, as a mad dog would.”
“Under the circumstances, the crime would be laid at our door,” her husband told her in practical tones. “There is another way, I am certain, and we will find it,cara mia.”
“He has no trade to ruin,” Orianna replied. “Every judge and lawyer in Florence accepts bribes. It is considered commonplace to keep the business of the law efficient. It is the worst of his vices that we need to expose to the light of day.”
“There are plenty of rumors,” Giovanni remarked, “but he has been reasonably discreet. So much so that even the Church looks the other way.”
“We cannot allow him to regain custody of Bianca,” Orianna said. “And now with his intransigence, none from this household may go to her, for he will already have put a watch on our house.”
“Did you not go early this morning?” her husband asked, smiling.
“Gio! How could you know that?”
“Because,cara, I know you. And did you really think that after the wonderful night we spent together I would not miss you the moment you left my bed?”
She laughed. “I went to an early Mass, and afterwards spoke with Father Bonamico. He suggested I use the church’s little back garden gate as my means of coming and going,” Orianna explained to Giovanni.
“You cannot go again,” he said. “The danger is too great for Bianca.”
“I know,” she agreed, “and so I told Bianca. I have spoken with Reverend Mother Baptista. Bianca will be kept within the convent walls. Even if Rovere eventually learns where she is, he will not break the laws of sanctuary.”
Giovanni nodded. “I concur,” he replied to his wife. “We must find another place for her, far from the city,cara. For now, however, she must remain where she is. Our opportunity will come if we are patient.”
