The door opened to reveal their eldest brother, Marco. He stepped quickly into the room, closing the door behind him. “This is all my fault,” he said, taking her two hands in his own. “I must beg your forgiveness, Bianca.” He looked genuinely shamefaced and sorrowful at the same time.
Both of his sisters looked totally confused.
Finally Bianca said, “Why must you ask for my pardon, Marco? You have done nothing of which I am aware that would require it.”
“Sit down,” Marco invited. “Not you, Francesca. You must leave. What I have to say is for Bianca’s ears only, not yours,bambina. Go now.” He pointed to the door.
“I am not a baby. Giulia is the baby. I am ten going on eleven, Marco.”
He smiled, and gently tugged on the thick golden braid into which her hair was now fashioned. “Don’t listen at the door,” he cautioned her with a mischievous grin.
“Oh! You!” Francesca huffed as she left the bedchamber.
Marco watched her go down the wide corridor and around the corner. She turned to stick her tongue out at him before she disappeared, which caused him to chuckle as he turned back to Bianca and shut the door to the room firmly. “Come,” he said, taking her arm by the elbow. “By the window, where the littleficcanasocan’t hear us when she sneaks back to listen, which she will.” His face grew serious once again. He looked like a younger version of their father, with curly black hair and bright blue eyes.
Bianca smiled, amused. “Yes, she will.” They moved to the window, and Bianca said, “What disturbs you, Marco?”
“My actions have put your future in jeopardy, I fear.” Then he began to explain in low, measured tones. “I apologize for what I must tell you, for I know how sheltered you are, and a virgin of good family should not hear things like this, but I have no choice, Bianca. Several months ago my friend Stefano Rovere and I were visiting a certain lady known for her amorous skills, who willingly shares them with young men just beginning to explore such masculine delights,” Marco explained. He actually blushed as he spoke, for he was fifteen and did not discuss such things with respectable women.
“You visited a courtesan,” Bianca remarked calmly. “Our mother has mentioned such women to me. She and I pray for them. It is not an easy life, I am told.”
“The woman died as Stefano vigorously rode her,” Marco said bluntly, for he could not think of any way to put it more delicately.
“Madre di Dios!”Bianca exclaimed, crossing herself.
“It was then that Stefano and I did a foolish thing,” Marco continued. “The woman’s house was empty of servants the night we visited. I wanted to call the authorities and report the woman’s death, but Stefano did not wish to do it. He feared the scandal, should we be accused of killing her. He feared his father’s anger over such a disgraceful situation, that his father should be forced to pay a bribe to keep the watch silent. He feared that someone connected with the woman would know it was Stefano Rovere, son of Florence’s most famed lawyer, and Marco Pietro d’Angelo, son of the head of the Arte di Por Santa Maria who had been the last to be with this courtesan.”
“Whatdidyou do?” Bianca asked almost fearfully.
“We wrapped her naked body in a Turkish carpet, weighed it with several heavy stones, bound it, and then carried it to the river,” Marco said. “We rowed the body into the center of the Arno near the Ponte Vecchio and dumped it into the water. The stones assured that it sank to the bottom.”
“God have mercy on the poor woman’s soul,” Bianca murmured. She was pale with shock over her brother’s confession. “But why should this unfortunate courtesan’s death affect what will happen to me, Brother?”
“My tale is not yet completed,” he responded. Then he continued. “Stefano then decided we should go to his father and tell him what had happened. He said his father was always accusing him of being an idiot. He wanted to show his father that he had been able to extricate himself from a nasty situation without his help. I did not think it wise. I thought, having disposed of the body, we should keep silent. No one would have known, as there were no witnesses to the deed.”
“And was Master Rovere pleased with Stefano?” Bianca asked quietly. How did a father react to a son who had just disposed of the dead body of a courtesan in secret?
“Stefano’s father is a hard man. He listened. Then he hit his son a blow that bloodied his nose and sent him to his knees. Master Rovere went on to explain in that cold, calm voice of his that the sudden disappearance of such a woman of certain reputation as well known as this one was would surely be questioned. He explained that it would now be necessary to fabricate a story to cover up what had happened, and protect our reputations. Then he sent me to fetch our father, Bianca.
“When Father came I stood and listened as Master Rovere explained to him what had happened with us earlier; that he had already sent his people to see that the house showed no signs of any sort of a disturbance. Several of the woman’s gowns and other clothing, along with her jewelry box, were removed so that it appeared that she had gone on a sudden journey. When the courtesan’s servants, such as they were, arrived in the morning, one of Master Rovere’s own servants would be waiting to explain to them that their mistress had been called away suddenly and did not know when she would return. Her affairs in Florence were now in the hands of her lawyer. The servants would be paid off generously and the house shut up. Thus would the scandal be avoided.
“Our father thanked Master Rovere, who smiled at him and said that Father would now owe him a debt that must be repaid whenever Master Rovere required it of him. Father agreed, saying that the Pietro d’Angelo family always paid their debts, and returned a favor twofold. Whatever was required to eventually cancel out the debt would be done.” Marco then grew silent, looking with pained eyes at his beautiful sister.
And then she knew. Bianca Pietro d’Angelo might be sheltered, but she was not unintelligent. “I am the payment Master Rovere has required of our father,” she said quietly. “He is a widower and seeks another wife.”
“I should rather see you in a cloistered convent, or even dead, than married to that man!” Marco burst out bitterly. “This is all my fault!”
Bianca was silent for several long minutes. Finally she spoke. “Papa has agreed? Of course he would have agreed, for our mother told him she would never forgive him. Why did he agree, Marco? Would Master Rovere take nothing else in payment? And several months after the fact, would the scandal be so great? His son was involved as well. After all, you did not kill the woman. She simply died while entertaining a pair of young men. Yes, it was wrong to dispose of her body in such a fashion, but you and Stefano are guilty of nothing more than being fools.”
“Father offered him money, even a ten percent share of his warehouses, anything else, but Master Rovere was adamant. He will have you as his wife. Nothing else will satisfy the debt Father owes him. It has now become a matter of honor for our parent, Bianca,” Marco explained to his sister. “Our father cannot be seen to eschew the debt simply because he now finds he does not like the payment asked of him. After all, he agreed to pay whatever the price, and did not question the cost at the time.”
“Yes, I understand,” his sister replied. “Has a date been set for my marriage?”
“Papa and Mama will tell you of your fate tonight. I don’t know what they have decided. If I know our mother, she will attempt to delay the inevitable as long as she can.”
“Yes,” Bianca agreed, “she will.”
“I had to tell you, Bianca,” her older sibling said. “I know Papa will not tell you why you are to marry this man. It is too shameful that you must be sacrificed for my sins. I did not want it to come as a complete shock to you. You should have a French duke or a princeling of Venice for your husband, not this man! His reputation is vile, for all his skills in the courts.”
