The Cardinal was keenly interested in this tragedy, not indeed that he took any part therein, but it had a distinct bearing upon his line of conduct, and he noted with apprehension the redoubling of Francesco’s devotion to “the hated Venetian.”
Bianca, of course, was perfectly aware that she was the real cause of Ferdinando’s animosity, in spite of his protestations of admiration and the like. She set about to unmask his real intentions and to circumvent his hypocrisy. Her methods were at once original and full of tact, for she disarmed his aggression by playing to his personal vanity and by furthering his lust for money.
Not once, nor twice, but many times, did Bianca plead with Francesco for his brother, and always with success, and many a substantial sum of money was lodged in the Roman Medici bank at his disposal. Ferdinando began to realise that the only way to his brother’s purse was by Bianca’s favour, and he began to evince a distinctly amiable spirit in his relations with her.
As marking the improvement in the situation, the Cardinal accepted an invitation to a family gathering at Poggio a Caiano in the autumn of 1575. The Grand Duchess Giovanna quite properly was the hostess, but Bianca Buonaventuri, who was installed in a Casino in the park, which Francesco had given her, and called “Villetta Bini,” was of the party, the life and soul of all the entertainments.
During the festivities Bianca managed to be tête-à-tête with her brother-in-law in a secluded summer-house. The fascination of three years before was again transcendent. “The Venetian is irresistible,” he said afterwards, “I cannot hate her, try how I will!” The truth was, he was madly in love, and he owned it, but his love was, after all, like the hot fumes of a lurid fire.
The year 1576 was a black one in the annals of the Medici. Two beautiful and accomplished princesses of the ruling house were done to death by jealous, unfaithful husbands.
Bianca Buonaventuri was stunned by the terrible end of her dear sister-friends, Isabella de’ Medici and Eleanora de Garzia de Toledo. Would her turn come next? The three had been called “The Three Graces of Florence,” and certainly each had vied with the other in elegance and fascination, but to Bianca the golden apple had been accorded unanimously. Beauty and charm seemed to be magnets of destruction, and Bianca was upon her guard!
So far as she herself was concerned, she knew that at any time she might still fall a victim to a Venetian desperado, or to a Florentine assassin, and under every friendly guise she feared a foe.
With respect to the Grand Duchess Giovanna and her detestation of Bianca, a story may be told which has all the appearance at least of probability. Giovanna expressed, not once, but often, her wish for Bianca’s death. This, indeed, in those days, and in Florence, the “City of Assassins,” was as good as a judicial sentence. The Grand Duchess, moreover, it was reputed, followed up her words by action. “One day,” the story goes, “in the month of March 1576, her carriage chanced to meet that of Bianca’s upon the Ponte SS. Trinita. She besought her coachman to try and upset her rival, hoping that she might fall into the river below and be drowned! Conte Eliodoro del Castello, her Chamberlain, saw the manoeuvre and prevented a deplorable fatality.”
Be this as it may, the Grand Duke not only sympathised with Bianca’s fears, but appointed certain of his own bodyguard to take up similar duties near the person of Madonna Buonaventuri, and her progresses henceforward were watched with as much circumstance as his own. At the same time his devotion to the woman he loved increased from day to day. The perils she was called upon to meet were incurred through her unquestioning love of him. This he knew well enough.