The days fell into a comfortable pattern of meals, naps, and outdoor pursuits.
The servants were pleasant and easy to manage. Bianca found she had no complaints. It was peaceful, and they saw no one. As the days passed, she realized that she was actually beginning to feel safe again for the first time in almost two years.
Chapter 6
The winter passed without incident. Bianca had no visitors, nor did she receive any communication from her family. The narrow road above the villa remained empty of both man and beast. There was the sound of the sea, and now and again the wind or the screeching of a gull, but other than that, all was silent. Especially the nights. In the city, the nights had been noisy until the late hours, the sounds penetrating through the thick walls of her father’s house. But here in her little villa, the winter nights were quiet. It was as if she were living in another world. She celebrated her sixteenth birthday with her female servants and forgot the anniversary of the wedding that had brought her such misery.
And then one spring afternoon, as she walked the beach, she saw a man striding in her direction. Bianca quickly turned about and hurried back down the beach, gaining the steep path to the villa. Once on it, she looked down. The man was still walking but showed absolutely no sign that he had seen her, or cared to talk with her. She found herself filled with a mixture of relief and disappointment.
The next day, the man was walking once again at the same time as Bianca. Her first instinct was to flee, but then she decided she would not. She had absolutely no reason to avoid her neighbor. He had shown no hostile intent, and running away like a frightened animal looked foolish and would arouse suspicion. She drew the hood of her cape a bit tighter and walked on, the pebbled beach beneath her boots crunching slightly as she did. There was a slight wind at her back.
He came closer and closer, walking with a purposeful stride. From the description Rufina had given her, it certainly had to be her neighbor. He did not look particularly foreign, Bianca thought as he drew closer. She was able to see his face from beneath her lowered lashes. It would be rude to stare at him or to meet his gaze, despite her curiosity. Only a common woman of the streets would do that.
He was very tall and sturdily built. His legs seemed quite long to her. He did not have the soft look of a merchant, but rather that of a soldier. He was fair-skinned with an oval face that seemed all angles and planes. His nose was long and aristocratic in appearance, his mouth big, with narrow lips. She could not see the color of his eyes, but the thick brows above them were as black as night.
He moved with a sure and steady gait, never pausing as if to observe her as they passed each other. He was dressed in a beautiful dark blue and gold brocade robe that blew ever so slightly around him, but whether from his own strong forward motion or the light breeze, Bianca couldn’t tell.
He was well aware of her polite scrutiny of his person, but showed no indication of any kind that he even saw her as he strode by. However, he found himself amused by her concentration not to appear inquisitive. Like any woman, she was curious, of course, but she seemed to labor hard to cultivate a disinterested attitude.
So this was his neighbor, Prince Amir ibn Jem thought. Who was she? All that his own servants had been able to learn was that she was a lady of a distinguished family. The little he had been able to glimpse of her revealed to his eyes a beautiful woman. What was a beautiful woman doing living alone in an isolated villa by the sea? Had she caused some unforgivable scandal and been exiled here?
She had fled his approach previously, but today she had kept walking. What had made her change her mind and see him as nonthreatening? He was a straightforward man, and usually mysteries didn’t interest him. He had spent too much of his young life surrounded by them. When he finally turned about to walk back to his own villa, she was gone from the beach. Had she remained today merely to satisfy her own curiosity?
And what of his own curiosity? He would query his servants again. Servants always knew everything. But to Amir’s surprise, they could tell him nothing more about the inhabitants of the nearby villa. Their brief contact had been with two gardeners before the lady’s arrival. The men had told his men that they were expecting a lady, a relation of the villa’s owner. The prince’s servants did know that the villa was called Luce Stellare.
“Have them find out who is living there, or at least who owns the villa,” he told his personal body slave, Krikor.
“Yes, my prince,” Krikor said drily with the assurance of a longtime servant. “I will do the impossible for you, as always.” He was a short man, plump with good living, and he had been with the prince since his youth. “Why are you so interested in the inhabitants of that little villa? Ah! You have seen the lady! Is she beautiful, my lord?”
“I saw little,” the prince replied, teasing his servant. “She was well cloaked, as a proper woman out in public should be.”
“Is she young? Old?” Krikor persisted, knowing well there was more.
“Young, I think,” the prince answered. “She kept her head down and her eyes lowered, but she was not bent, and her step was sure. She is a mystery, Krikor, and you know how I dislike mysteries. I must have them solved.”
“Mystery and intrigue,” Krikor said. “It is what comes of having been raised in a harem until you were seven. If only your mother had lived longer. She was wise beyond her years, my lord.”
“My father’s harem was hardly lively,” Amir said. “The rebellious prince who sired me was a great disappointment to the few women he kept. He had too little time for them or me; quarreling with my uncle Bayezit over who will inherit Sultan Mohammed’s throne is of more import to him. I will always believe my mother died of sheer boredom, Krikor, for she was an intelligent woman surrounded by half a dozen vapid beauties whose only interest was in attracting their lord and master.”
“Yet you have managed to retain your grandfather’s favor in spite of your father’s bad behavior, my lord.”
Amir laughed. “I have no desire to rule an empire, or to lead armies as my father does. My uncle will eventually win the struggle, for he is more determined and far more clever. The Janissaries are favorable to Bayezit. He does not lead armies, but rather finds the best men to do so for him, thus guaranteeing him victories. The men of my family may be martial in attitude, but I always keep in mind my relations’ penchant for disposing of troublesome male heirs,” Amir said, chuckling ruefully, and Krikor nodded, grinning.
“As a merchant in Florence, I am hardly a threat to the empire builders to whom I am related. The information I send to the Ottoman regarding the affairs of the Florentines and their neighbors helps him in his decisions on how to deal with these Italian states. I have proven my value to the sultan in this capacity. My grandfather does not need another warrior. I know my uncle Bayezit, while wary of any of Jem’s sons, will not move against me as long as I continue peacefully in my pursuits as a dealer in antiquities and fine carpets for the wealthy. Remember, Krikor, that my mother’s people were merchants; that is how she ended up in a harem.”
“It has made you wealthy,” Krikor noted. “But do you not miss Constantinople? And what of your two lovely wives, my lord?”
“Aye, sometimes I miss that golden city,” Amir admitted. “But remember, my home now is on the Black Sea away from the city in my little palace. As for the lady Shahdi and the lady Maysun, I took them as wives at the sultan’s request, for he wished to honor their families. They are sweet women, but I hold no passion for them, else I should have brought them with me. The courtesans of Florence keep me well entertained.”
“And yet the woman on the beach draws your curiosity, my lord,” Krikor observed shrewdly.
“She does, and because she does you will find out who she is for me,” the prince said. “I must know!”
“I will do my best, my lord,” his servant promised.
The next day, Bianca walked earlier so as to avoid her neighbor. “I can take no chances of him learning who I am. He might be one of those men who attend those dreadful orgies my husband gives.”
“Few know what that devil’s young wife looks like, for he rarely allowed you to show yourself after the Medici showed an interest in you. Your husband is a jealous man. As if you would be unfaithful!” Agata said indignantly.
