“Why not?” her sister demanded.
“Why not?Bianca, if he is an infidel, he isn’t a Christian. His ancestors probably killed our dear Lord! Infidels are terrible people. Everyone knows that,” Francesca said with great conviction.
“Your knowledge, which is obviously based on ignorant prattle, is astounding,” Bianca said sarcastically. “From where have you gained all of it?”
“Everyone knows infidels are wicked,” Francesco persisted.
“Amir is the kindest and gentlest man I have ever known,” Bianca told her sister. “I am so weary of being told that he is wicked because he is not a Christian. Are there wicked infidels? I’m sure there are. My late husband, may he burn in hell forever, was a wicked Christian. But there are good Christians and good infidels, Francesca. Do not judge a man by his religion. Judge him by his character, little sister.”
“Nonnowill find you a good husband,” Francesca responded soothingly, as if she had heard nothing Bianca had just said. And she probably hadn’t. She would grow up eventually. “Would you like to hear about the man I want to marry?” she asked her older sister, and then went on without waiting for an answer. “He is a prince,” she said with a sigh. “His name is Enzo Ziani. He is so handsome, Bianca. He smiled at me when he came to visitNonnolast, and said I was a flower who would one day bloom magnificently.” She sighed deeply. “He has been visiting a great deal lately. I believe he comes in hopes of seeing me.” She giggled. “I love him already.”
“How nice for you,” Bianca said drily. Francesca wasn’t going to understand her position. How could she? Her sister had been sheltered her entire life, and was now the obvious darling of their grandfather, with a Venetian prince for a suitor.
“Isn’t it?” Francesca responded, not catching her sister’s sarcasm.
Bianca settled quickly into her grandfather’s house, and found it was as dull as her life in Florence had been. Her brothers remained for a little over a week but then were gone. They had strolled both the Piazzetta San Marco and the great piazza itself with their grandfather as he showed them off. Marco had made several business contacts, and would return to Venice on a regular basis for their father. Bianca, however, like most highborn women, was not allowed in public. The only women to be found on the piazzetta were courtesans and common whores.
Although she loved being on the water once again, it wasn’t like her little villa. At least there she had been able to walk the beach freely, and ride in the hills about Luce Stellare.Her younger sister’s whole life, it seemed, revolved around getting married and the object of her desire, Prince Enzo Ziani.
Bianca had been in Venice several weeks before she finally met him. And when she did, she realized immediately that her grandfather had not chosen this man for Francesca. Alessandro Venier had chosen Enzo Ziani for Bianca. Her little sister was not going to be pleased, but Bianca would let their grandfather take the brunt of Francesca’s anger.
He was, of course, at thirty-three, much too old for Francesca but hardly too old for an eighteen-year-old widow. He was a widower, and had been married since he was seventeen to a wife who died during a tenth futile attempt to give her husband an heir. He had been without a wife for several years, but now his family was insisting that he remarry. His visits to their grandfather had been for the purpose of discussing a possible match between the houses of Venier and Ziani—the advantages and the dowry.
Her grandfather requested her presence one afternoon in his small private salon. She came to find him with a guest. Bianca curtsied politely, then waited to be invited to sit.
“Is she not lovely?” Alessandro Venier asked the man seated with him. “Her coloring is not Venetian, but have you ever seen eyes that color, Enzo?”
Bianca bit her tongue. Her grandfather spoke of her as if she were not there, and as if she were a fine thoroughbred animal.Madre di Dios!He was so old-fashioned and he had been given the power of life and death over her.
“No, I have not,” Enzo Ziani said, rising, helping Bianca to a chair before reseating himself. He saw the anger that had flared up briefly in those wonderful eyes.
She thanked him with a faint nod of her head. At least he had manners, she thought. Francesca was going to be furious when she learned of her prince’s visit.
“Bianca,” Alessandro Venier said, “this is Prince Enzo Ziani. I have given him permission to call upon you.”
“If you have, then you will have broken Francesca’s innocent heart,Nonno,” Bianca said bluntly. “My sister believes you have this prince in mind for her.”
“She is much too young!” her grandfather snapped. “I shall not even begin to consider offers for her until next year.”
“I am flattered to have attracted the little one’s eye,” the younger man said, “but she really is too young for marriage. The man who wins her heart will be fortunate.”
“I will leave you and Enzo to become better acquainted,” Bianca’s grandfather said. Then he rose and left the room.
Bianca laughed. “He is hardly subtle, is he?” she said. “But as I do not wish to waste your time,signore, please understand that I have chosen not to remarry.”
“Unless I am a certain Turkish prince,” Enzo Ziani replied.
Bianca grew pale but then she said, “How could you possibly know something like that,signore? And how indecent of you to bring up such gossip to me.”
“Your grandfather is an honest man,signora. He told me that your own mother had a stubborn nature too when it came to marriage. He wanted me to know the truth of your romantic nature because he said I should have to win your heart in order to win your hand,” Enzo Ziani said. “Is that true?”
“My heart is already given,signore,” Bianca answered him. “I will be candid with you, for I am not dishonest. After I was widowed, Prince Amir ibn Jem and I became lovers. I am told it is his faith that makes him unsuitable.”
“But you do not care, do you? His unsuitability makes him even more desirable in your eyes,” he said to her. “How charming you are.”
“Do you think I am a child then to be so shallow?” Bianca asked, irritated.
“Ah, I have offended you,” he replied, but he really didn’t seem distressed by it.
