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!