Like him, she too wore a mask. It was one that she didn’t want to remove – especially in front of her father.
‘What are you thinking?’ he asked her. It was a question he posed often. Giaconda was not allowed to have secrets.
She hesitated. ‘I was thinking about what Baroque will find when he gets to the Candlemakers Quartiere.’
‘Hopefully, this time, what we sent him to. I’ve given him three days, in which time he’s to remove all traces of himself from the Usurers Quartiere as well. His place is now with us, whether you like it or not.’
‘I don’t like it but, if he proves his use, I may yet become accustomed.’
Ezzelino simply grunted.
Giaconda smiled. ‘You know she’ll want to return there, to the Candlemakers Quartiere, at some stage.’
‘Assolutamente. As she should and, if she doesn’t, we’ll force her to go. It’s important that she understand where she now belongs.’
Giaconda smiled. ‘With us.’
‘Sì, amore mio, with us.’
Giaconda plucked at her nightdress. The ribbons on the sleeves and around the neckline tickled her flesh. ‘Salzi also told me that the ship from the other side of the Limen, from Farrowfare, entered port today.’
‘So I heard.’
‘What are their intentions, do you think?’
‘Treaties, safe passage through the seas. What else do our prospective allies – and enemies for that matter – seek? Only this time, the visitors from the Limen are serious. They’ve sent an Ambassador. Another among all the other foreign bastardi who occupy our casas.’ Ezzelino snorted.
‘This means that once he’s given permission to disembark and the treaties are signed, the Doge will want to make this alliance public, display his new friends. Could be months. There’ll no doubt be a ball.’ Giaconda’s eyes sparkled. ‘I wonder … do you think …?’ she began.
Ezzelino patted the bed beside him. ‘I do. Providing it’s not too soon, it will be the perfect time to introduce a new courtesan to the city. Can she be ready by then?’
‘We’ll make her ready, Papa.’ She began to crawl up the bed, like a cat slinking along the fondamenta, her back arched, her arms outstretched. ‘Me, Jacopo … and even Baroque.’ She hissed the last name. ‘I don’t know why you trust him.’
‘I don’t. But he is exceedingly useful, and now that we have his journals, he’s our puppet, to pull the strings of as we wish.’
Giaconda threw back her head and laughed. ‘The expression on his face when we threatened to show them to the Kyprians!’
Ezzelino’s shoulders began to shake. ‘I enjoyed it most when we told him we knew Tarlo was a girl.’
‘I almost felt sorry for him. All his bargaining tools, broken.’
‘A broken horse is the only kind to ride.’ Ezzelino reached for his daughter’s hand and squeezed it tightly. ‘And now it’s up to you, bella, to use all your talents and tricks to change our little candlemaker’s apprentice, our Estrattore, Tarlo – ‘He turned her hand over and kissed the inside of her wrist.
‘Into what?’ asked Giaconda coquettishly.
Ezzelino made a noise of pure pleasure. The sound was dark. ‘Into a force to be reckoned with.’
Giaconda shared the laughter that followed. ‘Naturalmente.’
‘Now,’ said Ezzelino and pulled her closer. ‘Come and lie beside me. It’s getting cold in here and I have a desire to be warm.’
BACK IN HER ROOM, TALLOW CLIMBED out of bed and made her way to the window. Though she was exhausted from the events of the day, she couldn’t sleep. Her mind kept replaying everything that happened – all she’d seen, heard and to which she’d been asked to commit. She remembered the fleeting moment of pure panic when she’d made her mark on the piece of parchment beside Signor Maleovelli’s signature. The ink looked like a bloodstain as it was rapidly absorbed by the vellum. A fleeting twinge of doubt had almost made her pull back. No. She would forge ahead and take control of her destiny. But if she was so certain about that, why did she feel so … ambivalent?
She pushed her shoulder against the glass, forcing it to open. Resting her chin on her hand, she let the chilly air wash over her feverish thoughts.
She was to become a courtesan – Tarlo Maleovelli. She shook her head in disbelief. With not a soldi to her name, she had no-one to turn to, no-one to help her, except the Maleovellis and, in an ironic twist of fate, Baroque Scarpoli.
Glancing skywards, she tried to see the stars, but the casas were so close, the only