Read Online Veronica COURTESAN by Siobhan Daiko - Free Book Online Page A

They’ve been out for a walk with Lena and Ludovico. (Ludovico continues to be one of my regulars, and I love him dearly.)
    Achiletto is blond with green eyes (they say he takes after me), and Enea has the dark hair of his father. I open my arms and they rush into them, smothering me with kisses. ‘Mamma, Mamma! We saw the Doge in his state barge,’ my eldest jiggles from one foot to the other. ‘Will he take it to Cyprus to fight the Turks?’
    ‘No, tesoro . The barge is too slow, and I’m afraid the Republic has lost Cyprus.’ Achiletto is bright and nothing seems to escape him…
    I catch Lena’s eye, noting her solemn expression. Cyprus was a Venetian possession for more than eighty years. After receiving news of the fall of Famagusta, and the torture to death of Commander Marc’Antonio Bragadin, our brave men have gone with the Holy League to fight the Ottoman forces. Our marines have to stop them or they will sail into our lagoon and occupy us too. I shudder at the prospect of being carted off to the Sultan’s harem, my children and household taken from me.
    I glance at Lena. ‘Where’s Ludovico?’
    ‘We left him at Rialto. He has business to which he must attend.’
    Enea tugs at my sleeve. ‘Will my Papa come back soon?’
    I pull my youngest close. ‘I hope so.’ Andrew is in command of a galley and has sailed with the Venetian fleet.
    Enea nods. ‘I’m hungry. What’s for supper?’
    I laugh in spite of my worry for his father. Enea’s priorities have always been with his stomach. He’s a chubby little fellow, all dimples and puppy fat. I tickle his tummy. ‘You’re on the menu, my sweet. I could eat you up you’re so tasty.’ I burrow my head into his chubbiness, opening my mouth and pretending to bite him. Enea unleashes a peal of giggles.
    I carry him, for he’s only three years-old and I can just about manage his weight. Lena takes Achiletto by the hand and we troop down to the kitchen. Anna, as ever my faithful cook, puts plates of ravioli stuffed with minced rabbit in front of the boys. I thank her. ‘All set for tonight?’
    ‘Yes, signora. Everything is ready.’
    ‘ Grazie .’ This evening I’m hosting a dinner party, and I want everything to be perfect.
    After we’ve put the boys to bed, Lena helps me to dress. She pulls the laces on my bodice tight, and my breasts rise so high the pink of my nipples is showing.
    ‘Delicious,’ she says, her fingers lingering.
    I give her hand a playful slap. ‘Not now, cara . There isn’t time.’
    ‘We can make up for it later. There’s no one booked in.’
    Whenever I have a free night, Lena and I sleep together. ’Tis the least I can do for her; she’s given up her life’s work for me, and I know she’s in love with me. I love her too, of course I do, except I’m not in love with her. I wish I could be: it might make me happy. Instead, I’m aching for the one man who persists in ignoring me. Marco Venier. I’ve invited him to attend the dinner with his uncle this evening, but have yet to receive a response. Marco Venier only recently returned to Venice from a period overseeing our military affairs on the mainland. Will he condescend to cross the threshold of a courtesan’s house?
    Lena runs a comb through my hair, twisting plaits and threading ribbons studded with pearls. I do not let her twist it into the devil’s horns that are the current fashion, for I’m superstitious about such things. Pearls are forbidden to courtesans by the sumptuary laws, but I wear them anyway. I glance at myself in the full-length glass mirror I purchased from Murano last year. I’m wearing a heavily brocaded burgundy-red dress with a starched white ruff at the back of the neck.
    ‘Will I do?’
    ‘You’ll more than do.’
    I laugh. ‘I wish you would join us.’
    ‘I’m not clever like you. I can’t sing or play the lute. And I don’t write poetry. No. I prefer to help Giulia, Anna and Domisilla in the kitchen. When the dishes have