The Pietro d’Angelos shortly afterwards departed Florence for their villa in the Tuscan countryside. It was cooler, and the children had more space to run free in the long, sunny days. They knew that Sebastiano Rovere had set a watch on their summer home. Marco, who remained behind to oversee his father’s warehouses, sent them any news of their son-in-law. His guilt had been great upon learning of his sister’s trials.
In the early autumn, the family returned to the city just as a great scandal involving Rovere broke open, giving them the opportunity to move Bianca from Santa Maria del Fiore to a new hiding place many miles from Florence. The lawyer had given a large party for a number of the city’s prominent men. There had been rumors for weeks about some new perversion Rovere had found, and the guests came eager to partake of whatever it might be, for the lawyer was known for his originality.
No one was aware that the lawyer’s bride had fled his house. As highborn Florentine ladies were rarely observed outside their homes, Bianca’s flight had not become public knowledge; and she would certainly not be present, or even seen by her husband’s guests, at such a gathering as they were planning to attend.
The night after what could only be called an orgy of spectacular proportions, the lawyer was arrested on a complaint brought against him by the head of the Arte dei Medici, Speziali e Merciai. His sixteen-year-old niece had been kidnapped the previous afternoon as she left his apothecary shop to bring a headache powder to her widowed mother, who lived in the house next to the shop. The distance was not more than half a dozen steps, but two villains had grabbed the girl and made off with her. She had been found battered, bruised, and barely conscious on the banks of the River Arno early the following morning by a fisherman. With great effort, the girl had cried out for her uncle.
Wrapping the naked girl in a blanket, the fisherman carried her to the apothecary, where, after drinking some wine with strengthening herbs, she told him her story.
The two men who had taken her had covered her head with a cloth so she could not see and brought her to a house. She was then taken away by a beautiful olive-skinned woman to be bathed and perfumed. They fed her wine, which made her feel strange. The woman was kind to her, and let the girl pat her pet, a tiny gray donkey. But then the woman brought her into a large chamber filled with men in fine robes, most with goblets in their hands, some already half drunk.
They howled with delight to see the naked girl. When they had finished with her, she was dragged from the chamber, taken from the house, and dumped on the riverbank, where she had been found.
Because she had heard his name and had seen his face, the unfortunate girl was able to identify her kidnapper. They carried her to his palazzo, and she identified it as the house from which she was taken after her shame. They brought five men before her, and she pointed to Sebastiano Rovere. He was immediately arrested and jailed, along with the two servingmen who had taken the girl and had been the first to rape her. The city was abuzz with the shameful scandal of an innocent maiden being so abused.
“This is our opportunity to get Bianca to safety,” Giovanni told his wife.
“He will buy his way out of this difficulty,” Orianna replied.
“Aye, he will,” her husband agreed, “but not easily, or too soon, which is why we must act quickly,cara.”
“What of those watching the house?” she wanted to know.
“They have hardly been discreet. I know where they are, and they shall be removed so we have time to do what must be done,” he answered her. “I will send Georgio to Santa Maria del Fiore to tell Reverend Mother Baptista to see that Agata and Bianca are ready to leave in another day.” Georgio was the Pietro d’Angelos’ second son.
“So soon?” Orianna asked.
“The sooner the better,cara. She will be safe at Villa Luce Stellare,” Giovanni replied. “Very few people know of its existence. It was part of my mother’s dower, but she rarely left Florence, and she preferred the countryside to the seaside. These past weeks I have had it opened up and cleaned so Bianca might be comfortable. I have employed local folk to serve her, and they but await her arrival,” he told his wife. Then he called a servant and said, “Find Georgio, and say to him that his father says it is time.”
“Yes, master,” the woman said, hurrying off.
Two days later, word spread across the city that the victim of Sebastiano Rovere’s perversion had died from the excesses that had been forced upon her. The imprisoned lawyer demanded his release, as there was no longer a witness against him. He was supported by the members of his own guild, the Arte dei Giudici e Notai. But the Arte dei Medici, Speziali e Merciai, the apothecaries and doctors, stood with their leader and his family. The girl’s testimony had already been taken by the Church and recorded. They wanted murder added to the charges of kidnapping and rape.
Rovere testified that he had sent his men to find him a willing whore who would be paid for her services. His two servants, however, eager to avoid further torture, said he had told them to find a young maid, a virgin if they could. He had promised them they would get to have the girl’s virginity so that when she entertained his guests, she would be free of any impediment to their pleasure. The men knew the apothecary had a niece upon whom he doted. She was sure to be a virgin, and she had been.
Rovere said the girl had no value to her family. They would be fortunate to find a husband for her, as she had little to recommend her. Highly insulted, the apothecary declared his niece was prettier than most, and he had already had several inquiries from fathers looking for a good wife for their sons. He said he had been training her, as she was a naturally skilled herbalist. She also cared for her widowed, ailing mother. Her family had loved her. Had it not been for Sebastiano Rovere’s debauchery, the girl would have lived a good life. The apothecary, his guild standing behind him, wanted justice.
The day before Rovere’s victim died, and while he lingered in prison, Bianca was moved from Santa Maria del Fiore many miles from the city of Florence to a small coastal villa with the silly yet charming name of Luce Stellare, which simply meant “Starry.” Her parents came to bid her farewell, but they did not go with her. Even though Rovere was imprisoned for the moment, and Giovanni had removed the minions he had sent to watch their palazzo, the Pietro d’Angelos would draw no attention to themselves by leaving the city. Bianca traveled by horseback with Agata, surrounded by a group of men-at-arms sent by her grandfather in Venice. There was no one to return to Florence and gossip. Every precaution had been taken to keep her safe.
She wept, knowing she would not see her family for some time. “Will you ever be able to come to me,Madre?” she asked Orianna.
“Not until Rovere either grants you an annulment, or is dead” was the reply. “We can take no chances in him finding you, my daughter. Every day he does not have you in his clutches, his anger and need for revenge against you grow.”
Bianca nodded. “I understand,” she said sadly, and she did. She had convinced her husband that she was finally becoming his willing whore. Now he knew she had done it to gain a victory and escape him. He would not be merciful. “I would kill myself before I allowed him possession of me again,” she told her parents.
“It should not come to that,” her father told her. “No one knows of my mother’s villa, not even your brothers. You will live peacefully, and be safe there.”
It had been so difficult to see them go. Ever cautious, they had come and departed under the cover of darkness in the hours before the dawn. She and Agata had left immediately afterwards, bidding Reverend Mother Baptista farewell, giving her their thanks for tendering them her protection.
“I will pray for you each day, Bianca, my child,” the nun said. “The blessed Mother will protect you, I know.”
Then they were absorbed into the middle of an armed and mounted troop of horsemen to begin the journey to the coast. The silk merchant had instructed the captain of the guard not to allow Bianca to be seen if he could avoid it. They were not to stop in any public place. Consequently, a small pavilion was set up for the two women when they stopped for the night. The captain himself brought them supper and made certain that the charcoal brazier that heated the tent was properly lit.
“We should reach the seacoast by tomorrow,madonna,” he told Bianca. “There will be no need for you to spend another night in the wild. Your grandfather would not be pleased with these arrangements at all.”
Bianca could not help but smile at the remark. She had met her grandfather only twice, but she understood exactly what the soldier was saying. “Please tell theprincipethat I am very grateful for his help,” she responded.
“He wishes you had come to Venice,madonna,” the captain said. “He would have protected you.”
