used to hear poisoning Quinn and Francesca’s tongues or even the bits Baroque would periodically divulge. She would quiz me about everything afterwards – test my memory. It became a game between us and, as the days went by, I became a worthy contestant.
She did maintain my lessons in deportment, dancing and dress and continued to work on softening my accent and developing my singing voice which, it turned out, was reasonably melodic. As I had sworn to myself after Renzo’s death, I remained compliant, and with that my confidence grew. Any doubts I had, any misgivings or uncomfortable memories, I simply extracted and distilled into the harlequin. My past faded into a piece of glass as, day by day, I grew into someone else.
In order to become her completely, one last lesson remained.
THE DAY BEGAN IN SILENCE AS SNOW fell softly, secretly, blanketing the casa and cocooning us from the outside world. I attended to my ablutions, dressed and joined Giaconda in Jacopo’s study for cafe. We sat facing each other in the old armchairs, the candles flickering, the little window admitting only a dull light, the books and scrolls with which I was becoming so familiar neatly stacked on shelves. The fire blazed, but the room refused to warm. I sipped my cafe, concentrated on not shivering too much, and waited for Giaconda to begin.
Putting down her cup on the little side table, she regarded me for a moment.
‘You look well, Tarlo.’
‘Grazie. I feel well, Signorina.’ I nursed my cup in the palm of one hand as I had been taught.
‘Bene.’ Over the next five minutes, she questioned me about our conversation the day before – the descendants of the Doge. I answered her without making a mistake.
‘Ah.’ She smiled and picked up her cafe, taking a drink. ‘Your mind will gratify the most difficult and demanding of men, Tarlo. It is sharp and quick. Your memory is faultless. But the mind of a courtesan is only useful if she also knows how to use her body.’
My heart began to beat very quickly. Colour infused my cheeks.
‘Combined, the mind and body of a courtesan can afford a man untold pleasures. You are learning to master one; it’s now time to begin studying the other.’ She gave me a knowing smile over the rim of her cup. She finished the contents, placed it back on the table and smoothed her skirt.
‘Words are one talent courtesans have – but there are many more arts we use. There’s also our lips, tongues, fingers and even our toes.’ As she spoke, she touched the relevant body part before closing the gap between us and stroking mine as well. The sateen of her gloves sent shivers along my spine. ‘There’s also our legs.’ She lifted her dress slowly, like a curtain. My eyes widened when I saw she wasn’t wearing any pantaloons. Her creamy legs looked smooth and inviting. She lowered the skirt. ‘And arms,’ she continued, reaching over and running a finger along mine, pushing the fabric into my skin as she did. I remained completely still less she stop. The pleasure of her touch sent waves of longing through me. ‘And let’s not forget the beauty of our breasts –’ Her fingers danced over my décolletage, goose bumps marking their passage ‘– and naturalmente, the rest of our form.’ Her hand rested lightly over the place where my dress dipped into my lap. I was holding my breath.
‘With that in mind,’ she said, slowly removing her hand and drawing away from me, ‘I want to give you this to read.’ She reached over the desk and picked up a tattered pamphlet. ‘This is an infamous piece by a rather clever man whom I hope you will meet one day. His name is Pietro Aretino – he calls himself a poet. Others call him a peddler of pornografia.’ She shrugged. ‘No matter what he’s called, he’s very popular and his work is … enlightening. Certo, it’s appropriate for our needs.’
I knew his name. He’d been mentioned over dinner a number of times, causing Signor Maleovelli no end of delight. Apparently his work had caught the attention of the Cardinale and not in a welcome way. I didn’t always understand the nuances underpinning much of what Signor Maleovelli said – he often spoke in cipher – but I found it interesting and more than a little thrilling that I was being allowed to read the work of someone so … notorious. I took