Free Leonardo's Swans by Karen Essex

attentions.”
    “All that you have shown me here, as well as your assurances, give me great comfort,” Leonora said to her son-in-law, whom Beatrice knew her mother had been prepared to dislike.
    “Madonna Beatrice!” Ludovico’s voice called Beatrice to turn around, though she had been enjoying listening to them converse as if she were not present. “I hope you will be able to spend many happy hours here, reading at your leisure and according to your interests, for I know they are many.”
    “My sister is the connoisseur of literature,” Beatrice offered, wishing to be seen, if not as lettered, then as generous. She hoped to divert any questions Ludovico might throw at her about some ancient Latin text or another. Let Isabella show off if she must.
    “ My sister is too loose with her compliments,” Isabella replied, appearing even more generous. “When you see her riding a fine horse in the open countryside, you will know that your wife is not only unique but superior among all women in the world.”
    “Madame, I am certain of that fact already. Her youthful loveliness overwhelms.”
    The three of them stared at her as if she were a pretty little babe in the cradle. Oh, she could understand her mother’s wistful gaze, but Isabella was only one year older than Beatrice, a mere sixteen. Why did she seem so much more the woman? Was it her full breasts to Beatrice’s small chest? Was it the intellect that gave her the confidence of a man in conversation? Whatever the cause, there could be no doubt that Isabella already had a distinguished, mature manner, whereas she, Beatrice, had the more anonymous face of a little girl.
    “And now I imagine you ladies will want to rest,” Ludovico said.
    He had already announced that despite the rugged, half-starved, sleepless voyage they had just endured, they would only have one day before the marriage ceremony, which was to take place in the chapel at the Castello di Pavia. Then, days later, everyone would travel to Milan for the feste honoring the new couple. The duke’s astrologer, Messer Ambrogio, thought by him to be infallible, had singled out the day after tomorrow as the most fortuitous for the wedding.
    “Nothing is done here without his advice,” Ludovico said. “Three years ago, I was near my death, and his medicine, administered at the most propitious astrological times, of course, saved my life. They had all given me up for dead. Some had hoped, I’m afraid. But here I am, and I never ignore his counsel.”
    The astrologer and medick was not present. He had already been sent to Milan to gauge the timing of all aspects of the marriage celebrations to take place in the capital. Along with him went Magistro Leonardo, who had been studying anatomy and architecture in this very library, but who was in charge of the theatrical decorations and other details of the days of feste to come.
    “But we have just missed him?” Isabella looked forlorn at the mention that the Magistro was gone.
    “He spent the summer and most of the fall here. I gave him access to this library, and also to my scholars at the university. A mistake,” said the duke.
    “But how could it be a mistake to allow such a man to study?”
    “The man is in my employ as a painter and an engineer. But, oh, to get him to paint! He has a thousand other pursuits that come between himself and his brush.”
    “One must be understanding but persevering with the artists in one’s employ,” Leonora said, the voice of experience. “Duke Ercole and I have a game we play with them. He makes me out to be the most demanding of creatures in these matters. Then, feeling sorry for the duke that his wife is so troublesome, they produce the desired thing.”
    “Madame, that is a brilliant technique. Perhaps I will be able to engage my own wife in employing it here. Perhaps even on the Magistro, though he is an especially difficult case. I tell you, he would spend all of his time dissecting human and animal