The Madonna of the Almonds by Marina Fiorato Read Free Book Online Page B

of despair, but had now been plummeted to new depths by the man who sat opposite her, across the massive bare board of her great hall.
    She was not weeping though. And the man that sat with her was not Bernardino Luini, whatever appearances might be. In fact she had tried hard to forget that impossible man, and had almost managed to dispel his face from her waking hours. Her dreams, however, he penetrated against her wishes, and her prayers were all the more fervent in the morning.
    No, the gentleman was a notary – Oderigo Beccaria, a man of middle years who had tended to the di Saronno fortune in many hours of private counsel once a month, closeted with Lorenzo. Simonetta had not realised the littleness of her own plight to others so it was salutary to her to notethat Oderigo turned up on the first of the month, with his quill and his ledger, as if Lorenzo had never died. She had not known that she, a woman who had never had to think about anything beyond the colour of her gown and the dressing of her hair, would now have to become intimately acquainted with her own household accounts.
    The household accounts, it seemed, were not in a healthy state. Oderigo told her, in no uncertain terms, that her tradesmen had not been paid, nor the servants, from the provision that remained from Lorenzo; a provision which that lord had left him to transact the accounts in what he was sure would be a short absence. Simonetta, at this stage in the conversation, was not unduly concerned. Smarting from her loss, she tired of this financial chatter and heartily wished Oderigo away so that she might mourn unchecked. She took the three bronze keys from her belt and went downstairs to the almond cellar. As always, she made sure she was not observed as she made her way to the back of the room, feeling the nutshells crack under her feet, and felt in the dark for the three keyholes that would unlock the room which held the di Saronno treasure. She was confident as she turned the keys in their proper order, that she would find what she needed within. Even when the first coffer she unlocked – with the cognizance of the three silver almonds on blue painted on the lid – proved empty, she merely moved to the next. Only when every coffer proved to be empty did she return upstairs, sit down and put herhead in her hands.
    She did this because she felt that she was being punished. In the worst of her grief, she had cried out to God that there was little point in being rich and having fortune and possessions when the one person she loved was taken from her. Well, God had heard her, and had taken her treasure too. Now what?
    Oderigo waited for her to compose herself. He was by no means as surprised as the lady of the house appeared at this discovery. He had heard, among the bankers and lawyers in Saronno and Pavia, that Lorenzo di Saronno had pursued his military ambitions in such a way that he was in danger of ruining his own house. A headstrong hot-headed young soldier with an over-developed sense of honour found it more needful to give his horses the best equipage, and his men the finest liveries, than to exercise the prudent, dull exigencies of a lasting income and pension for his estates. Oderigo tutted to himself. Such imprudence was unbelievable to a man of careful finance like himself.
    Oderigo was not villainous, merely indifferent to Simonetta’s plight. In his line of work, and in such times as these, he was used to dealing with clients who found themselves in reduced circumstances. He removed the kerchief from his pocket that he carried for these occasions, but when the lady lifted her head he was relieved to see that her eyes were dry. By heaven, she was a fair lady! For the first time in his long career, he felt an alien flicker of sympathy thawhis heart, for never had he seen such an expression of hopelessness on so fair a face. ‘Lady,’ he began. ‘You must not despair. I can buy you a little time. I will quiet your creditors and