She pushed open the door and entered the room, already warm from the early morning sun. Her new tutor was standing, ready to greet her, she swept a deep curtsey, being careful to show the elegant curve of her long, white neck as she dipped. When she stood she carefully appraised him, whilst feigning disinterest.

He was taller than her, and very ordinary looking. Her heart sank, she had hoped to be swept off her feet. But it was not to be. She could tell already he was earnest and timid, his long pointed nose and quivering fingers betraying his nervousness.

Elisabetta felt herself take charge of the situation as she had seen her mother do so many times before. She sat down, deferentially, so as not to offend, but leading him to sit down too. She let out her held breath evenly, thanking God that he was not a garlic eater after all.

'Ss-signorina' he stuttered, 'it is a pleasure to meet you, I hope our work together will be mutually profitable.' his cheeks coloured as he looked at her, she was surprised by his overt reference to her family's wealth, but she fought not to show it. She decided to play with him, and bide her time. To this end, she acknowledged his comment with a smile and a tilt of her head, and allowed her eyes to rest meaningfully on the small pile of books stacked next to his chair.

'Yes, yes.' he looked flustered, and a shaft of satisfaction pierced her.

'I thought we could read a little today of the works of Pythagoras, an interesting man wouldn't you say?' he glanced at her enquiringly, inviting her to answer. Now was the moment to dazzle him with her knowledge, she had been studying all week for this.

But instead with a theatrical sigh she raised her eyes to heaven, 'I admit sir, to having understood little or nothing of his arguments, perhaps I am a poor student but when the good Doctor explained to me I found it all so confusing.' here she tittered, like one of her mothers' ladies in waiting who wished to appear simpatica.

Signor Bardi smiled at his attractive young student, drew close to her and bent his head over the small volume, preparing to explain the theories of Pythagoras.

Josi looked on with arched eyebrow and pursed lips whilst busying herself with her embroidery, occasionally tutting and sighing to herself at the poor man, who was totally unaware he was being played like one of those new lutes with twelve strings.

The day before

The day before,  her father had called her into his study. 

‘Elisabetta, figlia mia’ he always called her ‘my daughter’ to affirm his deep love for her and also, she felt, his proprietal instinct over her.

‘Si, papa?’  she asked dutifully, playing the part she was so used to of the  pliable, attentive daughter.

‘Sedeti’ he indicated the chair, ‘Sit down my dear, and listen to what I have to say.’

Elisabetta sat where shown, struggling not to show emotion or excitement, was this what her maid had been saying? Was her father about to tell her she was to be married? She kept her head bowed as she waited respectfully for him to speak.

‘Cara mia, guarda mi negli occhi.’  
He tilted her chin upwards so she gazed into his deep brown eyes, so dark that his pupils were invisibile. 

‘Ah, my treasure, my beautiful daughter!’ she blushed at his praise, she would never be accustomed to it. 

‘How are your studies going with Dottore Trovato?’ he asked, leaning back in his chair with an inquisitive smile on his lips.

‘Well my lord,’ Elisabetta stuttered in fright, for sure the smelly old man had complained to her father that she made him fall asleep so she could chat to her maid! Stronzo!

‘Don’t worry my darling child, I know il dottore has not been well lately, and that as a consequence your lessons have been somewhat, shall we say, uninspiring?’ he arched his eyebrow in a conspiratorial fashion as he continued, ‘I have given the good doctor his pension and told him to go to rest in the villa he keeps in the hills, and as for you, my love, I have found you a new professore.’

Elisabetta was delighted, but managed to maintain her composture, ‘veramente mio signore?’ she enquired ‘Is it true?’

‘Yes my dear girl, he is young, but ambitious, and he is a leading light in the new philosophy of the day. It is important that you become well versed in modern philosphies and understand and appreciate modern art, when you are a signora’ and head of your own house it is natural that you will be required to entertain politicians and learned men of every genre. It is for this future I am preparing you!’

‘Grazie mio signore!’ Elisabetta was so grateful to never to have the confirmation that she would never have to bear another hour of Dr. Trovato’s stinking company, she felt like weeping with relief! 

Her father spoke again;‘Elisabetta, non devi deludermi, mi raccomando!’  he was warning her to work hard, not to be a disappointment in her studies, to make him proud. Of course she could do that, it would be her pleasure! The new tutor was to begin tomorrow, and Elisabetta skipped away lightheartedly.

'Elisabetta, your mother wants you.' the maid searched her charge anxiously for flaws, pinching her cheeks a little to give them some colour, straightening a ribbon here, a ruff there.

'Don't fuss Josi!!' Elisabetta pushed her away, 'Mama knows me well enough by now!'

'Si signorina, lo so.' of course I know that, but my job depends on your appearance and comportment and I can't afford to lose it, so for now you'll let me have my own way!' and she pinched her cheek again a little too hard just to have the satisfaction of hearing her charge squeak indignantly.

Elisabetta made her way to her mother's rooms with a sense of foreboding. Her mother was elegant and stylish, and she always felt clumsy and graceless in her presence. Their relationship was almost perfunctory, as a newborn, little Lily had been suckled by a wetnurse who had looked after her until she was three, and then she had always had Josi to depend on, friend, confidant and surrogate mother.

She hesitated momentarily at the great wooden door, and taking a deep breath, knocked calling out simultaneously 'Permesso?'

'Entra.' her mother's calm voice could be heard clearly through the panels.

Elisabetta picked up her skirts, and, head bowed, entered into her mother's rooms.

She was sitting on a sgabello, a new type of chair recently comissioned for the family, it was wooden and ornately carved with the heraldic crest of the Pazzi family, two dolphins leaping upwards back to back with two crosses between them and three below. It was thought the chair would improve posture, and Signora Pazzi was a stickler for comportment, elegance and ladylike graces.

Elisabetta curtsied deeply, colouring with emotion as her mother's eyes swept over her critically. 'Madam?' she said as politely as possible, using the formal voi as expected.

'Come here my child'. She indicated with an imperious finger where she expected her daughter to stand, and Elisabetta dutifully moved.

'How are your studies?' she asked

'Well I presume, madame. My father has not found cause to complain.'

'Hm! That hardly surprises me! From what I understood, Doctor Trovato spent more time asleep that awake. No, I ask you, my daughter, to examine your conscience and tell me how your studies are coming along.'and she sat back in the wooden chair expectantly.

Elisabetta blushed again with confusion. She quickly examined her conscience.

'My practice in needlework and embroidery does not progress as my mother would wish I fear.'

'And why is that?'

'Because I do not dedicate myself to it as I should.'

'Exactly.' her mother concurred. 'Your father has informed me that your tutor is changing, and now that you have reached thirteen, it is right that we begin to make you pleasing for your future husband.'

Elisabetta gasped, 'Madame! Am I to be wed?' she felt her world slipping out from under her, andfelt herself  sway in shock.

'Elisabetta!' her mother snapped 'Pull yourself together, we will have no hysterics here. This is your destiny and it always has been. We have betrothed you to Giovanni de Medici, the banker. You are to bring your title and he is to bring his money! A match made in heaven!' and she laughed.

'But, he is an old man!' Elisabetta couldn't contain herself.

'Enough! Ensure you confess your disobedience at church tommorrow! You will marry him and you will be happy that you bring your father and I happiness. You will not bring shame on the family name. Our family, famous throughout Florence for bringing the sacred flame to every home at Easter! You will work hard at your needlework and your comportment. Is that understood?'

She glared at her daughter, her long thin nose reddening slightly at the tip, waiting for her reply.

Mutinously, Elisabetta did not answer.

'Hai capito!? Si o no?'  her mother demanded lowering her voice dangerously.

Elisabetta couldn't hold out any longer, she cursied, eyes on the floor, 'As madam pleases.' she murmured.

The interview over, she fled to her rooms and threw herself sobbing onto her bed! She was to be married to an ancient, wrinkled disgusting old man!

It just wasn't fair!

' I must study!' she announced upon returning to her room, 'I cannot appear stupid in front of my new tutor!'  Josephine, her maid, was shocked, it was the first time she had ever heard her mistress express voluntarily the wish to read her school books.

'Tell me more abou him, Josi!' she ordered as she smoothed her skirts and settled herself in the niche near the window, so she could read.

'Well, miss, they do say he is from a good family, one that fell on hard times. He is learned, and' she added in a hushed whisper, 'he writes poetry!'

' Poetry?' echoed Elisabetta, enchanted.

'Yes,' breathed Josephine, 'but he is poor as a church mouse miss, and no respectable family would consider him a good match, even if his name was once held up with the Medicis'.

'Yes,yes, but what does he look like? Has anyone seen him?' She demanded hungrily. Josephine knew how to spin out a good story, she felt her young mistresses urgency keenly, and played on it, enjoying her undivided attention for once.

' Well, Agnes said that the Master's manservant said, even if I'm sure i don't know wht right he has to be talking, being a man and all, OUCH!' she jumped as Elisabetta's sly pinch made itself felt.

'Oooh,'she rubbed her arm to relieve the pain, ' You hurt me.' She drew her face into a study of injured pride, and Elisabetta relented a little, ' Sorry Josi, it's just I want to hear about him, and you were going on...dai! dimmi tutto!'

'Va bene, okay okay, he's quite tall and slim but not too skinny, jet black hair and deep brown eyes, but nothing special, Agnes said that you'd find better down the fish market early in the morning.'

But Elisabetta was already lost, building herself castles of sand, based on a sketchy third hand description.

When the fateful morning came she rose early so she could bathe and Josi could tease her hair into ringlets. She had studied all the previous week and was determined to impress. She was on tenterhooks, every movement made her jump, so sensitive was she to all the noises in the house. Finally when the knock came to go to her lessons, she leapt up startled, a pink hue coming to her cheeks. Josephine, grabbed her hand to calm her, and adjusted her hair, and gown.
'Well ma'am, shall we go?' she curtsied half ironically to her charge and motioned with her head towards the door, trying to diffuse the tension.

Elisabetta felt as if she might faint, her heart was beating forcefully within her ribcage. She felt lightheaded as she stalked down the long corridors, remembering her comportment lessons, and repeating to herself over and over,  'Head up, stomach in, walk tall, eyes straight.' until she finally arrived at the door.

How many times had she passed through this very door, taking her last gasp of clean unadulterated air, before suffering Dottore Trovato's various bodily effluences. She suddenly realised with a jolt that he too might be unwashed, a drinker, a garlic eater, and she took a deep breath and entered the room.

Florence 1415

CHAPTER 1

Florence, 1415

Elisabetta surveyed the courtyard garden gloomily, fingering absentmindely the rich cloth of her skirts. The prospect of another 6 hours with that stinking old man who was her tutor  was not something she relished. The July heat  was  somniferous and he often began to drool and his head bobbed up and down while she read the greek classics aloud. In fact she tried to modulate her voice to induce his sleep. That way at least she had some small enjoyment whilst suffering his company, and her maid, who acted as chaperone could put aside her needlework and share the gossip of the house in low tones until he woke with a start, and asked her some questions  in a blustering tone to which she replied with her head and eyes demurely held low while her maid hid her smiles behind an austere face.

'Elisabetta!' her maid's voice broke through her reverie 'it's time to go to your lessons mia cara.'

she swept her eyes over her charge's dress, brushing away some imaginary crumbs and smoothing her unruly dark tresses.

'Andiamo! Let's go!' And together they picked up their skirts and made their way towards the schoolroom.

Elisabetta's father was something of a revolutionary in that he wished his daughter to have the same education as his son. Her mother disagreed, arguing that her future husband would not thank him for filling the girl's head with politics, history and philosphy, better that she spent more time on her embroidery , which was abysmal according to her high standards. Now that Elisabetta was nearly thirteen, they were beginning to seriously consider prospective matches, and although Elisabetta understood she was to be married before long, the reality of it was still too much for her childish mind to dwell on.

As she entered the room, the air was already thick with the warm scent of Dottore Trovato's unwashed person and foetid breath. He was a drinker, evident from his bulbous red nose and thickened skin, and had recently begun to suffer from gout, which made him short tempered and irritable. Elisabetta took a deep final breath of fresh air and walked towards her chair, pausing only to bob a curtsey at Dr. Trovato.

'Buongiorno Dottore' she intoned, already feeling claustrophobic in the stifiling room.

'Buongiorno Elisabetta' he replied, 'Today we will continue with the thoughts of Marcus Aurelius'

She picked up the tiny book and moved her chair towards the half shuttered window so as to read better the tiny print. With heavy heart she began to read.

After about thirty minutes, she started to modulate her voice so that it became a soothing monotonous sound, and as she looked up whilst turninng over the page to see how far gone Trovato was, she became conscious of a fat fly buzzing against the thick panes, throwing itself desperately against them in a futile bid for freedom. She suddenly felt a kinship with the creature, she too wanted to throw open the window and fly out, escape from this dreary existence. She rose from her seat, and her maid looked over quizzically, ' c'e una mosca.' she indicated with her hand the hairy black body which was beating rythmically on the glass.

' Significa novità! It brings change!' her maid jumped up to help her open the heavy window.

'Ha!' Elisabetta laughed sarcastically ' nothing will ever change in this house, that I can promise you!'

'Don't be so sure miss.' her maid said confidentially, 'I've heard the master means to take on a new professor for you, to teach you the arts, this new movement they are calling the rinascimento, he says it's important for you to appreciate true culture and beauty. That's what they are saying miss' and she bobbed a curtsey.

Much though Elisabetta hungered for these tidbits, she was always irritated by the fact that the servants knew more than she did in her own house. It was ridiculous! Of course it would have been her father's man talking or her mother's maid.

What does my mother think?' she asked, testing the water, 'well miss,' Agata did say as the mistress wasn't too happy but seeing as it is culture it was better than mathematics and science which the master was also harping on about.

Elisabetta stifled a giggle, she did love her father, even though she was a little bit scared of him. He wanted her to develop 360 degrees he said. He had always been interested in what she was thinking, and tried to develop her skills of logic and discussion (her mother called her argumentative) but if it was true that old Doctor Trovato was going, well that was certainly cause for celebration!

At that moment the Doctor sighed, burped and woke up. Elisebetta returned to her reading, mouthing the words without concentrating, her mind spinning off into the distance.