A Florentine

Chapter Two - an unwelcome advance

Chapter Two – an unwelcome advance

As we walked further into the centre of town the leaden weight pressing on my chest seemed to grow heavier with every step. I felt a longing to rip off the restrictive bands that bound my body flat and breathe more deeply than I had in many months. At last we reached the palazzo of our new patron, we were welcomed first into an anti-chamber and were kept waiting till past midday. My anxiety heightened but Giovanni was still and calm reminding me that the elite thought the world waited only for them and that they did not need to keep to such frivolous things like the schedule of a painter and his apprentice. I could not tell Giovanni that I knew exactly how the elite thought. That I had once belonged to the other side of a door just like that which we now waited in front of. 

Eventually we were shown into a dark wood panelled room with tall windows of circular glass panes that looked like up ended bottles. We were introduced by the steward to his master, and for the time being ours. Rigaletti was a short, plump man, over fed and perspiring noticeably in the moderately warm weather. His clothing, demeanour and weight showed me that he was clearly not high enough in politics to fear assassination, though I had no doubt that he concealed a knife beneath the folds of his clothing like every other man in the city. His house was well enough appointed and it was clear he expected his families' fortunes to continue to rise as they had in the last generation or so. He greeted Giovanni kindly but practically ignored me, explaining with hand gestures and the misty eyes of a man who sees what he desires with his minds eye, exactly he wanted my master to paint upon the bare ceiling of the room we had been shown into. It should show representations of his own family, he explained, but embody the noble virtues incorporated with creatures from myth, this was a common enough request. I remembered my own father having my older brother, whose name I had borrowed, painted upon a canvas as a young Hercules slaying the many headed hydra. My father intended it to show him as the uniting force behind the bringing together of two feuding family branches. He was set to marry Lucrezia, my uncle's daughter, and through this union they were to bring peace and reconcile the family. The marriage had been arranged before they were of age and the painting completed for the occasion of their engagement. Thus it presented a rather fanciful depiction of my brother as a young man in his prime yet I had never gazed upon the grown subject.

Of course to depict Rigaletti's family we had to meet them first. His wife and their three children. Rigaletti called for wine and sent for his family. When the door opened I nearly dropped the wooden goblet I had been given for Rigaletti's wife was none other than my cousin Francesca. We had lived together inside the nunnery as border girls for the early years of our childhood. She was much grown. Her chest much more greatly endowed than mine could never have been constrained by the tight bands that bound me. Her face was painted lightly, and her mouth was creased with laughter lines. Following her in toe came a girl about five years old, a boy of seven and a nursemaid carrying a child still in swaddling. She greeted her husband with the correct polite affection, though I noticed how her eyes closed not out of pleasure when he touched her. He then introduced us in turn.

'My dear this is Giovanni, who is to paint us and his apprentice Matteo.'

'Pleasure sirs, we shall be seeing much of each other I fear, my children are my most precious possession, they must be captured with lifelike grace within your work.' I would have laughed had fear not engulfed me at that moment. Francesca's vanity had not diminished, her children may have been precious to her but I knew she was equally concerned to see herself presented with perfected delicacy and grace. The nuns had reprimanded her many times even when we were small for her vanity and I felt a twinge of irritation at seeing nothing had changed.

Her eyes flickered to me, barely registering my face. Fixing an expression of faked adoration, she turned towards her husband. My heart started beating at a regular pace again, clearly my disguise was better than I knew.

'When sirs shall I be sitting to be drawn?' She asked serenely.

'It may take several afternoons madam,' responded Giovanni. 'If you permit it Sir I should like to complete several sketches of your family together, and several separately so that I can best create a composition from various poses, which can then be presented for you inspection and approval.'

'Of course sir, in fact my wife and I are free this very afternoon, take the group today, and my wife's portraits over the next few days. I am due from town tomorrow morning for four days but my brother-in-law is coming to stay and my wife is quiet in command of the household, as is right,' he patted her hand with patronising pride and she responded with a winning demure smile. 'Then when I return you will be able to take my likeness, yes?'

'Consider your desire fulfilled my lord. Would you like us to take them here?'

'We have had the adjacent room prepared for the purpose, do follow me.'

I followed a little behind Giovanni and the family, she may not have recognised me yet but there would be plenty of opportunity over the next few days for her to figure out that I reminded her of someone from long ago. So I made it my mission to be as invisible as possible, this was not however, what happened. The first afternoon passed without incident and I remained easily in the shadows. Two days later I was not so lucky.

Giovanni pleased with my progress prior to leaving for Firenze decided that he would like to see my attempts at depicting the pretty young subject we were left with, besides he needed to venture into the market to exchange money for materials with a very old dear friend and preferred to handle the transaction himself. He asked Francesca's permission and she gave it willingly, too willingly I was to discover. We were never left entirely alone together, she had her maid servant always with her and the stewards' son keep watch over us, yet neither of these things deterred her.

She sat for me in silence and I sketched several examples of her, focusing on different features of her face or the effects of lighting on her each time. Satisfied that I had found my favourite angle I set about sketching her a fourth time, this time in the view of painting her. I was so intent of reproducing the first sketch whilst she called for refreshments that I did not notice her come up behind me and observe with impressed pleasure the image I had begun to colour.

'You make me seem young and carefree, sir I applaud you.' She spoke so suddenly from behind me that I flinched and dropped my paintbrush onto the lap of my apron.

She laughed, that sing song laugh I remember her mother having, and leaned forward, her coiled hair seemed to have released itself from its binding and it fell about her shoulder tickling my neck. I drew in a sharp breath and she laughed again, mistaking my reaction. 'Catherine and Giogiro are loyal to me, I'll not tell if you won't,' and without any encouragement she leant right over my shoulder her hand reaching for my grouch where the abandoned paintbrush lay, bleeding red into my fresh white apron, and placed her hand there murmuring into my ear. Sickened I jumped up, sending the paintbrush flying, the easel crashing backwards and Francesca reeling away from me in surprise. Forgetting the paint I turned to face her and backed away several paces, 'madam this cannot be.' I commanded shakily.

She laughed, and took a step closer, 'I told you Matteo I will not tell if you won't. You needn't be afraid.'

I hurried round the other side and retrieved the easel and the brush putting them to rights and I babbled my excuse. 'My lady please, it is more than my life is worth,' she advanced towards me like a lioness.

'How do you know, you've never tried me,' I paled further and backed closer to the door.

She stopped suddenly and straightened, her eyes wide, 'you haven't done it have you?' She exclaimed, mocking laughter replacing her seductive one. 'No wonder little Matteo is afraid,' she closed the space between us, 'but I can make you forget your fear...' She placed her palm on my chest just above my heart. 'I hear it bursting inside you Matteo, a lion waiting to be set free. I can set you free.'

I swallowed hard and willed the wooden door to absorb me into it as part of itself. 'You are mistaken madam, I...'

At that moment the lack of privacy in large Florentine families saved me. There was a knock on the door opposite, giving Francesca just enough time to move an appropriate distance away from me before the steward entered and announced the return of Rigaletti's brother-in-law...