Read Online The Shepherdess of Siena: A Novel of Renaissance Tuscany by Linda Lafferty - Free Book Online Page B

peace and respect as they waited for the granduca to proceed.
    Cosimo speared the tender venison with his fork and popped the meat into his puckered mouth, chewing carefully with the remaining teeth. Despite his advanced age, the abscesses in his jawbone, and painful gout, the granduca had a good appetite for both food and sex.
    After Cosimo had swallowed and taken a sip of Montalcino, the rest of the family began their repast. It was a rare occasion these days to have all the de’ Medici siblings at the table. Pietro’s wife, Leonora, was not there, nor was Camilla, the granduca’s second wife. Isabella was relieved that Camilla, a commoner, had not joined them. Isabella found her flighty and unable to follow any conversation that did not involve fashion and costly fabrics. And of course, Duchessa Giovanna, Francesco’s wife, would never accept a commoner in Court. Cosimo respected his daughter-in-law’s wishes, as she was the sister of Emperor Maximilian of the Holy Roman Empire.
    Isabella glared at Pietro, who still insisted on eating only with his knife, like a soldier on the battlefield.
    “It is not as if we are hunting, little brother,” said Isabella. “Why do you insist on eating in such a primitive way?”
    Pietro sucked at a piece of meat lodged in his teeth.
    “I am a military man, sister.” He shrugged, spearing another piece of venison with his knife and shoving it whole into his mouth.
    Isabella glared, and he returned her look in kind. Finally, their father broke the angry silence.
    “Isabella. Please tell us about the Senese shepherdess you encountered.”
    “Isabella fell from her horse,” sneered Francesco, “and the flea-bitten, knobby-kneed villana came to her rescue!”
    “How dreadful,” said Giovanna, who had a terror of commoners, especially Italians. She surrounded herself with German-speaking ladies-in-waiting from the Imperial Court of Vienna.
    “It was not dreadful at all, Giovanna,” said Isabella. “Quite fortunate, actually.”
    “A perfect stranger—a peasant—came to your aid?” continued Giovanna. “How truly astounding! Where were your attendants? Your ladies-in-waiting?”
    “My ladies could not possibly keep up with me on a horse. And the perfect stranger was a charming little girl. Full of fire and spirit, a true Senese.”
    “Even more intriguing,” said Cosimo, running his tongue over his front teeth.
    Isabella turned to her father.
    “This little scrap of a child has never been on the back of the horse. But she insists she will ride the Palio one day!”
    Her brothers laughed. Giovanna joined in. Only Cosimo remained silent.
    “She shall have to compete against our horses,” said Cosimo, making a temple with his hands. He rested his lips against his fingertips. “And the Borgia s ’ . ”
    “I do not think the Borgias race anymore in Siena, Papa,” said Isabella, patting her father’s hand. As of late, he remembered occurrences from yesteryear while forgetting the recent past. It had been many years since the Borgias had contested the Palio.
    “Not since they annulled Cesare Borgia’s win,” she said softly.
    Isabella squeezed her father’s hand. She darted a look at her brother, Cardinal Ferdinando. He met her eyes, saddened at his father’s decline.
    “Ah, yes,” said Cosimo, nodding his head. “I remember. A false start. Borgia’s jockey was disqualified.”
    “I have heard rumor that Siena wants to stage more Palios.”
    “It would be good for their spirit,” said her father, shrugging his shoulders.
    “I find the very suggestion ominous, Papa,” said Francesco, setting down his glass. “The Senese have too much spirit as it is. It cost us many soldiers’ lives in the siege, did it not?”
    “They are a defeated people,” said Cosimo, dismissing his son’s concerns with a wave of his hand. “Let them recover their heart with sport. They are Tuscans, just as we are. Let them race their horses.”
    He turned away from his son,