Heart of Glass

12





Dear Laura,

Since we spoke, I have thrown caution to the wind. I shall not allow my boy to languish in that prison! I have requested house arrest for Roberto. I will let you know the instant he is free of that festering leaded prison. I know you love him as much as I do.

In haste,

Duchess Besina

The note was waiting for me upon our return to the villa. I hastily broke the wax seal in the privacy of the garden’s new greenhouse. Now, I look at the Duchess’s handwriting and hope that her impetuosity will work for Roberto, rather than against him. No other woman could earn him such a reprieve, not even one of the Segreta.

“Laura?” Faustina calls for me. “Laura!”

Hastily, I shove the note into my pocket and step out of the greenhouse. She spots me and comes bustling over, carrying a large square of linen in her arms. “A picnic!” she calls. “Come and help.”

Emilia and I go to our rooms and quickly exchange our outfits for loose muslin dresses so we can work in the garden after we eat. I can’t stop thinking about the note and what it might mean for Roberto, but for now I must act as if everything were normal. I hastily tuck my dress, with the note in its pocket, into a blanket box and follow Emilia to the kitchens.

It’s not often that I’m allowed here—it’s not a noblewoman’s place—but this afternoon Faustina is more than happy to let me collect bowls of olives and take a knife to shave thin slices from the cured ham. Emilia carries out a basket of bread and a board of cheeses, and soon we are settled beneath the olive tree, enjoying a picnic for three, as Lysander is out visiting boyhood friends.

As the sun rises higher in the sky, we revel in the fresh tastes, scooping up small bunches of grapes and tearing hunks of bread to soak up glistening olive oil. For a time, I try to be cheerful for Emilia’s sake, and I’m surprised by my appetite. We talk of Bologna, where she grew up, of the beauty of the Tuscan hills, and of her family. We both laugh as Faustina reaches for a third slice of cake.

“You girls, you need to follow my example—get more meat on your bones!” She casts a shameless glance at Emilia’s stomach. “Who knows, soon you could be eating for two.” My sister-in-law’s cheeks flame, and I tut loudly, giving Faustina a firm shake of my head. She shrugs. “I’m only saying …”

After we’ve all finished eating, Emilia gets to her feet and goes to retrieve the gardening basket and shears from where they have been abandoned beside the climbing rose that dances across a trellis pinned to the wall.

“Here, let me help!” I say, jumping up to join her. Faustina grumbles as she clears away the picnic things.

“Take no notice of her,” I say to Emilia as I choose a rose stem to prune back.

“It doesn’t matter,” she says.

“You shouldn’t feel embarrassed to tell Faustina to stop her teasing,” I tell her. “You’re one of the family now.”

We fall into companionable silence as we work, side by side. I try to concentrate on picking out dead rose heads, but I can’t stop thinking about the note. I allow a flicker of hope to spark in my chest, but I won’t let it become a full-blown fantasy. This won’t be the nightmare’s end, but it is a reprieve and may be the first decent step to clearing Roberto’s name.

I move slowly around the garden, seeking out the blooms that are past their best. In a corner, I kneel beside a lattice covered in climbing flowers. I reach past an olive tree, straining to catch a wild stem of roses that has snapped at the base. My hand brushes against something smooth and cold, and, looking down, I see a dagger.

The blade is plunged into the trunk of the tree. A prickle of fear spreads over my skin, because I recognize the hilt—the mother-of-pearl inlay and the polished rosewood, the turned gold of the guard. My fingers wrap around the handle, and I pull the dagger out of the tree, turning it around so that the blade glints in the sunshine.

This is my enemy’s weapon. It is the blade that Carina tried to plunge into my breast that night on the boat. I am sure of it.

“What have you got there?” Faustina has arrived behind me.

“It’s a lady’s dagger,” I say.

Faustina calls to Bianca, who comes running. I glance towards Emilia, but she is absorbed in another part of the garden and doesn’t notice the fuss.

“What’s this, you silly girl?” Faustina asks, indicating the dagger. “Is it yours or any of the servants’? Have you been fooling around out here?”

Bianca shakes her head. “We don’t have the money for such things,” she says. “And I hate blades.” She looks up at me, her eyes wide. “Have strangers been in the garden?” she whispers.

I send her a reassuring smile. “Don’t be silly. One of Father’s friends must have dropped it.” I slip the weapon into a basket of gardening tools. “I’ll find out whom it belongs to and return it. Go on, back to your work!”

Bianca dips in a curtsy, before running back to the house. Faustina’s gaze hasn’t left my face.

“How will you find out whom it belongs to?” she asks.

“How do I know?” I say impatiently. “Let’s just forget about it.”

Faustina shrugs, and goes to carry the picnic things indoors. Emilia helps her, packing our leftovers inside the empty bread basket. But I stand rigid. I can’t get Bianca’s words out of my head. Have strangers been in the garden? Or ghosts? Only one person could have put that dagger here. Carina, the woman who once tried to kill me. But Carina’s dead, just a figure in my dreams. No one could have escaped that sinking, burning boat.

I shake myself and follow Faustina and Emilia back to the house. A silhouette appears in the open doorway, a servant, his face flushed red from exertion.

“What is it?” I ask.

“Your father,” the boy gasps. “He demands your presence at the Doge’s palace. Immediately!” Emilia and I share a startled glance.

“Why?” Faustina demands, giving the boy a stern look.

He hesitates, then pulls his shoulders back, determined to deliver all of his message. “Prince Halim has personally requested you to be among the serving girls. Signor della Scala told me to say that if you don’t obey, the repercussions will be serious.”

Emilia looks at me, confused.

“But why me? I don’t understand,” I say.

“Many daughters of the nobility will be on hand,” says the boy.

“That Prince Halim is trouble,” Faustina mutters. “I said it from the start. What does he want with my darling?”

Prince Halim’s dangerous reputation isn’t what bothers me. My mind turns over as I realize that my father’s orders will force me to miss my meeting with the Segreta. They won’t be happy.

I draw the boy to me and lead him to my father’s library, out of the earshot of Faustina and Emilia.

“Can you take a message to Grazia de Ferrara for me?” I ask, scribbling a note, then sealing it with melted wax.

The boy’s eyes widen. “I can, but that will cost you my top rate.”

“Top rate!” I repeat, shaking my head. I take some coins out of my pocket and drop them into his hand. I give him the note too.

The boy runs down the steps away from me. He calls a final message over his shoulder: “The banquet has a Roman theme!” A few seconds later, he has disappeared from sight, leaving clouds of dust behind his departing heels.

I turn quickly and run up the stairs, pausing halfway to call into the hall, “Faustina, come and help me. I’d better find something to wear!”