Lucianna Read Free

king’s friend. I volunteered for this particular duty because I have never been to Italy before and wished to see it. I have no interest in political office, as so many others surrounding our young King Henry do. The king’s treasury is not particularly full at this moment, but he is very fond of and generous to his bride. She wished Italian silk, and so here I am.”
    “I hope, then, that you will visit my father’s establishment,” Lucianna said. “He is Giovanni Pietro d’Angelo, and the premier silk merchant in Florence, if not all of Italy.”
    “Ah, yes, he has been most highly recommended,” Robert Minton told her.
    “You need no one else if you purchase your silk from the Pietro d’Angelos,” she told him.
    “How did a successful silk merchant’s daughter end up married to an ordinary bookseller? Did your parents permit you a love match?” he boldly asked her.
    Lucianna laughed. “Nay,” she said. “It is a long story, and you are not really interested in it, I am certain. Have you found your book?”
    He didn’t need to know that the failure of the Medici bank had caused her father to lose a great deal of his monies, and that she didn’t have a respectable enough dower to attract a better name.
    Interesting,
the earl thought. But then they had just met, and he was not really entitled to know such personal information. “Yes, I have found a book, but I should like it rebound in a richer leather with gold,” he explained to her.
    “I will call my stepson, who does the binding. If you tell him exactly what you desire, he will see it done properly. Norberto, please come and speak with our new customer about rebinding his purchase.”
    Robert Minton was very surprised to see a middle-aged man hurry from a side room. Obviously the fair Lucianna’s husband had been a much older man.
What a waste,
he thought, and then turned to the bookbinder. “I wish it bound in the softest, finest, deep green leather. You will decorate it with gold about the edges discreetly. The cover will be inscribed as follows in gold lettering:
To Her Majesty, Queen Elizabeth of England
.” Then he realized he had been speaking in English, and he looked to Lucianna.
    She quickly translated to her stepson, who nodded and said something that Lucianna translated back to Robert Minton. “Norberto said he understood exactly what you require, and he is honored to be chosen to do this work for you. The book will be ready for you in three days, my lord.”
    “Grazie,”
he said to the bookbinder, who nodded and then, taking the book, scampered back into his workshop.
    “He is shy, which is why I manage the shop,” Lucianna explained. “Alfredo taught me so that when he no longer could, I could.”
    “Would you attend Mass with me tomorrow,
signora
, and then perhaps afterwards walk with me?” he boldly asked her.
    “I cannot,
signore
,” Lucianna said. My husband is not dead a full year yet, and I yet mourn him.”
    “When will he be dead a full year?” he asked her.
    “The fifth of next month,” she replied.
    “Then I must wait until then to escort you to Mass,” the Earl of Lisle said, with a small smile that Lucianna couldn’t help but return.
    She wondered a moment if her mother would approve, but then she realized it was not necessary to ask Orianna. “I shall look forward to it, my lord,” she told him. He was attractive and well-spoken. She wanted to know him better, and going to Mass with this Englishman could hardly be considered scandalous.
    He bowed a small bow, and then said, “I shall return in three days for my book,
signora
.” Then he was gone through the bookshop door.
    Lucianna found herself disappointed to see him go. She would have liked him to remain and speak with her longer. There were no more customers that afternoon. She found her sister upstairs waiting for her. She had been embroidering.
    “He was handsome, the Englishman,” Serena said.
    “I thought him attractive, but hardly