"Even du Barry could not expect me to keep my drawbridge down under such circ.u.mstances," Rafaello said, disbelieving.

"Of course not, but he does not realize how thick the drawbridge truly is. He believes it will be easily breached because there has never been any sign of this castle being defensive. We have men-at-arms, but only a few patrol the heights of the castle. And we have no army. For the Comte du Barry and his king, taking Terreno Boscoso is like picking a ripe plum from its tree. Or so they believe. They will discover the plum has a rather tough stem, and it is not easy at all. They may have the empty town, but the castle will remain inviolate."

"Once they have discovered that, they may send for cannon," Rafaello replied.

"Then we must flee," Francesca said quietly. "We cannot allow ourselves to be taken prisoner. As long as the duke is free his people may have hope."

He was astounded by her calm bravery, her logic. He had learned in the year that they had been wed that his wife was not just beautiful. She was clever and intelligent. Still, when she spoke as she had just done it came as a surprise to him. "I never meant for you to be caught in such turmoil," he told her. Your life should have been as sweet and peaceful as the d.u.c.h.essas before you."

"I would have been truly bored," Francesca said, "although to confess I should have preferred my life to be slightly less exciting. However, I have never before been involved in a war," she remarked.

Rafaello burst out laughing, and he caught her to him and kissed her hard. "I cannot see Louisa or Aceline taking this situation in such good stride," he told her.

"They did not love you as I do. Louisa did not love you at all," Francesca replied. "As for Aceline, who is to say if she had been your wife that her father wouldn't have prevailed upon you to allow the French to have a garrison here? Refusing your father-in-law would have proved awkward."

"I could have never married Aceline du Barry," he said. "Not if I had never met you, Francesca, my love. She was a shrew."

"But you might have had a son by now," Francesca said softly. "Your father might have known an heir was due before he died."

This was the moment, Rafaello realized. He would never have one so perfect again. "Perhaps if you had succ.u.mbed to Carlo we would have," he said quietly.

"Carlo?" Francesca blushed, but then she said, "I could not betray you, my lord husband, even if we had not been formally betrothed."

"A pity," he said with a small grin. "I did try so hard to seduce you. That one night . . ."

"What one night?" she demanded, and then she said, "You tried to seduce me? My lord, what can you mean?"

"Jesu, Marie, was I that good that you do not realize that Carlo and I were one and the same, Francesca?"

"No!" she replied, disbelieving.

"Yes," he told her. "I was terrified when you ran off into the forest, but when word came you were safe at the inn with Alonza, I grew angry. What could I have possibly done to offend you, to send you fleeing me? I could not at first understand, and then I realized that I did not really know you. That I had been delighted by your extraordinary beauty, and how kind you were to my father, and how you and Louisa had become friends, but I really knew nothing more of you. I thought perhaps if I might understand you better we could make a good marriage. I had frequently hunted in the forest using the name Carlo. It is one of my Christian names. Were you not paying attention when the bishop asked at our wedding if I, Rafaello t.i.tus Eduardo Carlo, would have you to wife?"

"No," Francesca said in a little voice. "I was too overwhelmed by all that had happened that morning." She still wasn't quite certain she believed him.

"What is it that puzzles you?" he asked her "Carlo was bearded. You are clean shaven," she answered.

"He was," Rafaello agreed. "Shall I grow my beard again to convince you that your romantic huntsman and I are one and the same, Francesca Allegra Liliana Maria?"

She stared at him, surprised. "You remembered all of my names. I think I am impressed. Yes! Grow your beard again. It makes you look older, which might not be a bad idea when you must face the French leader of these forces. You are much too handsome and youthful, which makes people who do not know you believe you are easily overcome."

"I shall take your suggestion, but now we must return to the subject of Carlo," Rafaello told her.

"Why? If you were Carlo, then you know I am truthful when I say we were not lovers, although, my lord, it is not that I was not tempted. I was. Why could you not have been yourself with me when we first met? If you were not the duke, is Carlo the man you would prefer to be?" Francesca asked perceptively, and she looked closely at her husband.

"You are too clever by far, my love," he told her. "It is not that I am not proud to be who I am, but it brings with it too many responsibilities. Now we are faced with a French invasion, and shortly the Milanese will come filled with righteous indignation over the fact that the French are in Terreno Boscoso. None of the previous dukes had to deal with a situation like this. I do not like it, and I do not know if I am strong enough to handle it," he told her. "Yes, I should rather be Carlo, the huntsman right now."

He looked so miserable at his admission that Francesca took him in her arms to comfort him. There was no doubt that his peaceful ancestors had never found themselves in a position like this. He hadn't been trained to manage a problem such as now faced him. "If I agreed to offer my fealty to the French king and host his troops willingly now, would he still accept my loyalty? I did what I believe was right, Francesca, but it was wrong for my duchy. My people have had to flee. There is no business being transacted. How can the duchy survive without its people and its commerce? In one n.o.ble and proud gesture I have destroyed my country."

"Do you forget Milan, my lord?" she asked him. "They would not help if we asked, yet they would cry to the heavens had you willingly allowed the French here," Francesca reminded him.

"I should have put Terreno Boscoso first. I realize now there was no way I could have pleased everyone," he said unhappily.

"Had you admitted the French willingly, Milan would have attacked their soldiers and made a battleground of our duchy," his wife said.

"They will probably do it anyway," Rafaello replied.

Francesca didn't know what to say to him after that. She had never had any experience with a difficulty such as they now found themselves in. She had been raised to be a good wife, a perfect ornament, and the mother of her husband's male heirs. Now, however, she was relieved that there was no child in her womb. Worse, she was not certain exactly what was going to happen to them, or to Terreno Boscoso, now.

Rafaello disappeared within the castle for the next few days. He needed to consider any options that they might have, and he was very concerned for his wife's safety. So far in the town below there had been no chaos. The French quartered themselves in the houses of his citizens. He could imagine the irritation of the ordinary soldiers. There were no women to rape. The few that had remained were ancient crones who kept to their beds, and cursed them beneath their foul breath anytime they saw them.

There was virtually nothing to steal, and soldiers relied on booty to fill their pockets, as their masters were usually slow to pay them for their services.

The French made no effort to speak with the duke at first. Seeing the strength of the raised drawbridge they realized that only cannon could force it down and allow them admittance to the castle. They could see no other way that would admit them into the castle. But truthfully there was little need to speak with the duke immediately. They had the town, which they had wanted first and foremost, and took time to settle themselves.

An envoy from Milan came to speak with the duke. The invaders had no orders to stop anyone from entering, if indeed they could. The French laughed heartily to see the pompous envoy forced to row himself across the moat and then wrap a rope about himself so he might be pulled up to a place where he could be hauled into the castle.

Even from the ground across the water they could hear the Milanese sputtering his indignation at such treatment.

"I suppose if we wish to speak with the duke we must enter the castle the same way," the military commander said with a chuckle.

"Nonsense!" the Comte du Barry responded. "They will surely lower the drawbridge for us. The young duke is not unreasonable."

"If he were reasonable," the commander said sarcastically, "we should not be living in the town, but rather be his guests in the castle. We will question the envoy when he returns. It is our right."

"We cannot harm him," the Comte du Barry said. "King Louis wants no fuss with Milan right now. He is not a well man."

"Why on earth did he want this tiny bit of land to add to all the great inheritances he has gained?" the commander asked the comte. "We do not really need to garrison soldiers here at all. You would know the truth of this matter, my lord comte, if you would but tell."

Raoul du Barry smiled. "I see no harm in you knowing, although you must keep the secret for now. France has enough land for successful agriculture, but unlike the Spanish, we have no source of precious metals. Terreno Boscoso has in the far north of the duchy gold mines. They are small, for the dukes of this duchy have never wanted to bring attention to their good fortune. They mine what they need for themselves and their little economy. France could expand those mines and have a goodly supply of gold for the king if the duchy was ours. But if it became publicly known that these mines exist, then there would be others who would want them too. King Louis hoped to have this wealth peacefully by gaining the young duke's fealty. That is why I offered my daughter to the young duke for a bride. He rejected her in favor of that merchant's daughter from Florence."

"I am told the d.u.c.h.essa is very beautiful," the commander said.

"I cannot deny it," the comte admitted. "Her maternal grandfather is a Venetian prince, it is said, and one of her brothers, a priest, is secretary to a cardinal in Rome."

"You have quite a knowledge of the d.u.c.h.essa's family," the commander noted slyly. "Do you resent her being chosen over your daughter?"

Raoul du Barry smiled tightly. "Wouldn't you if it were your daughter?" he said bitterly. "Aceline told me that the merchant's daughter showed lascivious behavior, which is what attracted the duke."

"And you believed her?" the commander said boldly.

"Not after I met the d.u.c.h.essa," the comte admitted. "Like all in our family my daughter is proud. She did not like being pa.s.sed over for a silk merchant's daughter."

"And so now we have both the duke and his beautiful wife at our mercy," the commander said slowly. "Do you believe the duke will relent and offer King Louis his fealty now?"

"We no longer need it," the comte said coldly.

"And the envoy from Milan? Do you think he brings word of the little duke's aid? We will have a fight on our hands if the Milanese come."

"King Louis has soldiers enough to contain the Milanese. I do not believe they will offer any aid. The duke of Milan's guardian uncle probably believes that Terreno Boscoso is in league with King Louis, and seeks to warn their duke of such folly." The comte chuckled. "Duke Rafaello has probably destroyed his duchy with his overweening pride."

"If he relents and swears fealty to King Louis we must honor his promise," the commander said. "We are honorable men. The French are not barbarians."

"I carry with me an order signed by the king himself. Remember it is the duchy's gold mine he wants. Duke Rafaello and his wife are to be disposed of in order to prevent the duchy from rallying about him. The d.u.c.h.essa has not yet given him an heir, for even I should be reluctant to kill a child. We are to gain the duke's trust. Then we are to gain entry to the castle with just a few men, our servants. They will see the job done quickly and quietly," Raoul du Barry said.

The commander nodded slowly. He could not refuse his royal master's orders, but he did not like this trickery. It was murder. The murder of a consecrated ruler and his wife. No. He didn't like it at all. But he would do it because those were his orders, or so the comte said. The commander decided he would want to see the king's order before he acted. I don't like it, he thought once again. And he didn't like Raoul du Barry either.

A sudden shout of outrage, and then a splash turned his attention just in time to see the Milanese envoy being pitched into the moat. Sputtering with fury, the man swam to the far side of the water where the two Frenchmen stood. He scrambled out and, turning, shouted, "My master, the duke, will hear of this outrage!" He shook his fist upward.

"f.u.c.k your master," someone on the battlement shouted down angrily.

The French commander hurried to help the wet Milanese envoy. "Let us aid you," he said. "France has no quarrel with Milan. Why were you thrown into the moat?"

The Milanese looked at the Frenchman and then decided it didn't matter at all. "My master, the duke, sent me to demand from Duke Rafaello an answer as to why you French have come into Terreno Boscoso. The duke had sent to him for help."

"I think your duke must be mistaken. Duke Rafaello has sworn fealty to King Louis. Granted, we did march into this duchy without permission, but the duke's barring his castle to us is a simple misunderstanding. We will straighten it out shortly." The comte smiled at the man. "Now, sir, we must see that you have dry clothing for your return to Milan. Your master will certainly want to know what you have learned." He smiled again.

"Clever, my lord, very clever," the commander said to the comte when the Milanese envoy had finally gone on his way. "But to what purpose?"

"Simply to cause consternation among the Milanese and any others they will share this knowledge with," the comte said. "Now, who will help the duke of Terreno Boscoso? There is no one, I will wager." He smiled his cold smile again.

The commander suddenly realized that all this man was doing came from his need for revenge. Revenge on the young duke who had refused the comte's daughter's hand in marriage. But King Louis would be lured by the knowledge of gold. He would not care even if he were told the truth. The commander was glad he was a simple soldier.

Chapter 15.

"Was it really politic to toss the Milanese envoy into the moat?" Francesca asked her husband. She was trying hard not to laugh.

"Pompous fool!" Rafaello said. "How dare he speak to me as if I were a dishonest and naughty child. I knew asking the Milanese for aid was a lost cause. At least he was able to bring you a letter from your mother. Is all well with your family?"

"My mother writes that the di Medici cannot help us. Terreno Boscoso is too far away for Florence to have any real interest in it. Lorenzo sends his regrets," Francesca responded quietly. "What are we to do, my lord? Milan believes we have betrayed them. It would seem we have little hope at all. I realize we have not the strength to drive the French out of our duchy. What, then, can we do?"

"I am realizing now that there is more to this than just the need to quarter troops here," the duke said slowly. "But I cannot imagine what else they would want of us."

"The Comte du Barry wants revenge," Francesca replied. "He is a fool, of course. We are not responsible for Aceline's plight. He is."

"He is a proud man, my love. He will never admit to that, but it is more than just his need for revenge. You do not get the king of France to aid you in your revenge when you are an unimportant man. No. King Louis has been told there is something here that he has decided he wants. But what is it?"

The autumn came and with it a request shouted from below the castle walls for a meeting with the duke. The desire was relayed to the duke, who gave the man-at-arms his reply. The answer was shouted down.

"The duke says he will speak with anyone but the Comte du Barry."

Hearing that, Raoul du Barry was infuriated, but the commander chuckled. "You, like your daughter, du Barry, have not endeared yourself to the duke," he noted. Then he turned to the soldier who had brought the answer. "Say that Commander d'Aumont will speak with the duke at his convenience."

The soldier nodded and hurried off.

"Are you mad, treating this fellow as if he mattered?" the comte demanded.

"I would remind you, my lord," the commander said quietly, "that this small troop of King Louis's soldiers is mine to direct. You have a history with this duke, and he obviously does not like you, so he will not treat with you. But of necessity we must gain the duke's trust enough to get a few men into the castle so the duke and his wife may, as distasteful as I find it, be disposed of. Once that is done Terreno Boscoso and its wealth are King Louis's. I would be remiss in my fealty if I did not do my duty by my king."

The comte grew silent, but then he said, "Before the d.u.c.h.essa is killed I want her raped before her husband's eyes."

"What?" The commander was not so much disgusted as surprised by such a request.

"I will tell you something I have told few others, d'Aumont," the comte said. "When Rafaello Cesare chose the silk merchant's daughter to be his bride, my daughter was sent back to me. But Aceline was not sent with enough men-at-arms to protect her. Her little train was set upon by bandits. She was raped and held captive for several months. When she and her serving wench managed to escape and reach home it was discovered she was enceinte by her captor. She birthed her b.a.s.t.a.r.d and was rendered mad by the shame of it all. She and the boy now reside in a convent. I want the d.u.c.h.essa Francesca shamed in the same way before you cut her throat. I want her raped and killed first so her husband may suffer the same tortures of the d.a.m.ned that I have over the loss of my daughter. I want him to hear her cries as she is violated by one of your soldiers, and then another and another, at least a dozen men. I want this duke to hear his wife's screams and know that he is helpless to aid her. Then he is to be whipped until his back is raw and he is screaming with his anguish and pain. Finally he will be hanged."

"And this is all in King Louis's directive to you, my lord?" Commander d'Aumont said dryly.

"They are to be killed. The manner in which they die is left up to me," the comte said shortly.

"King Louis is not a man for wanton cruelty, Comte. We will execute them as quickly and as mercifully as we can," the commander said. "With no other heirs to Terreno Boscoso the duchy is ours. That is all King Louis desires." Mon Dieu! This Comte du Barry was a vengeful man, but what he proposed to do to the duke and his wife was intolerable. Their demise must be swift and without undue cruelty.

The soldier returned from the moat to say that the commander would be granted an audience with Duke Rafaello the following morning. He could row across the moat and would then be hauled up to the battlements. Once there he would be taken to the duke. The drawbridge would not be lowered. Commander d'Aumont had to admire the duke's caution, but then considering the French had invaded the duchy without cause, why wouldn't Duke Rafaello be wary?

He was spared the comte's company this evening and was relieved. Commander d'Aumont might have sought out the n.o.bleman and told him of his meeting on the morrow, but he did not. When morning came he broke his fast and then rowed across the moat. Anchoring the small boat, he waited for the rope to be lowered, and when it was he skillfully tied it about his waist, indicating he was ready to be slowly and carefully drawn up. Once over the battlements he was taken to the duke.

Rafaello Cesare greeted the Frenchman by offering him a goblet of wine.

"Thank you, my lord duke," d'Aumont said. He raised the goblet. "To King Louis!" he toasted. He then introduced himself. "I am Jean-Paul d'Aumont, a commander in his majesty's armies."

Without hesitation Rafaello raised his goblet. "To King Louis," he agreed. Then he said, "Come and sit by the fire, Commander. You will tell me why you sought to speak with me." He took a deep sip of the wine as he sat and waved his companion into the high-backed tapestried chair opposite him.

The Frenchman sat down and drank from his goblet. "I am told you refused to give King Louis your fealty," he began.

"I might have given it, but I could not countenance French troops in my town," the duke replied. "And yet now I have them." He smiled wryly.

"King Louis merely wishes to ensure that Milan and the other Italian states remain peaceful. It is easier to intimidate them by garrisoning a few of his troops in Terreno Boscoso," the commander said smoothly.

"Nonsense!" the duke replied. "It is obvious to me that my duchy has something King Louis desires, although I cannot imagine what that is. But, then, I am new to my position. I might have asked my father, the former duke, but he has died." Rafaello crossed himself piously.

"I cannot help you there," the commander lied. "I am just a soldier and I was given my orders."

"What is the Comte du Barry doing among your little army?" the duke asked.

The commander considered the query, and then decided truth was a better weapon in this case than a lie. "He seeks revenge upon you for his daughter's misfortune."

"So my wife said, but I could not believe it. Aceline du Barry's mischance was not my fault, but her father's fault. My father, the late duke, invited Aceline along with two other maidens to Terreno Boscoso in hopes that I would choose one of them as a bride. I did not choose Aceline. She was an overproud shrew. She was returned home, laden with rich gifts from my father, Duke t.i.tus, and guarded by the few men-at-arms her father had sent with her when she came and who remained until it was time to return her home. Her own father should have sent more men to guard his daughter, but he did not. Her tragedy was not the fault of Terreno Boscoso.

"When she claimed her b.a.s.t.a.r.d was mine, the innocent child's very appearance gave lie to the a.s.sertion. Her maidservant told us the truth. My wife arranged for Aceline and her infant to be cared for by the gentle nuns of a convent my mother-in-law favors. It was not our responsibility to help the comte, but he was so distraught at the time that Francesca felt sorry for him."

"'Tis not exactly the tale he tells, but no matter," the Frenchman said.

"So King Louis's only interest is in protecting his borders by invading Terreno Boscoso," the duke repeated slowly.