Giuseppe and Maribella

Their meetings at the alcove became a daily habit, each of them learning more about the other with each meeting. Giuseppe grew fonder of Maribella and bolder in his physical contact. She didn't resist his advances. Each day was a testing of the physical limits of their relationship, heightened by the lack of privacy and the timing of her servant's return. Even the time together without physical contact was a joy. They whispered their deepest hopes and dreams to each other while hiding in their alcove. Giuseppe would bring her poems he had written, reciting them to her in an excited whisper while holding her close. Maribella wisely refused to take the written poems home with her, lest her father find them. At one of the vendor stalls, they purchased a carved box as a place for him to store the poems and had their intertwined initials carved into the top.

Giuseppe tried to gain a little more privacy. One day, despite the warmth of the weather, he arrived at the alcove in his long, dark cloak. She questioned him about it and in answer he took her in his arms, wrapping the cloak around them both to hide them from any casual observer while they kissed. She slid her hand down to his bottom as he moved his up to her breast, confirming that that part of her was entirely natural as well. Her thin chemise made it easy for him to feel the hardness of her nipples.

The next day she wore a cloak, too. With the two cloaks enveloping them, it was almost as if they were in a private room. Their kisses became deeper, more urgent and their hands roamed over the surface of each other's clothing. He started with her bottom, cupping her cheeks and letting his hands explore the roundness there before moving around to the gentle curve of her soft belly and up to her full young breasts. Under the cover of the cloak, he slid a hand inside the neckline of her chemise, gently tickling the valley of her cleavage before teasing a hard nipple directly. Meantime she ran her hands across his strong chest and back, squeezing his tight bottom and finally bringing one hand to rest briefly on the hardness concealed by his codpiece. Again the briefness of their visit kept them from exploring further. They took a moment to fix the disheveled state of their clothing before one more kiss goodbye.

The cloaks served them well for the next few days. Their exploring hands slowly became bolder under the concealing cloth. Maribella soon found out how to sneak her hand into the side gap of his codpiece and pull Giuseppe's shirt up slightly so she could brush her fingertips against his hardness directly. He once dipped his head below the edge of her cloak and took her nipple in his mouth, causing her to bite her lip to stifle her happy moan. He found a gap in her skirt, near where the drawstring held it together, that gave him access to the thin chemise covering her lower belly. By bunching the chemise in his hand, he was able to draw it up behind her skirt. This allowed him just enough room to brush his fingertips against the underwear concealing her nether lips. Awkward because of the handful of cloth and the peculiar angle of his arm, he was still able to feel the dampness of her juices and even get her to sigh contentedly.

Then one day she seemed listless, not even bothering with a welcome kiss and letting her hands dangle motionless at her sides. Her eyes were near to tears and Giuseppe worried about her state. Then she delivered the bad news.

"My betrothal time is up, I'm to be married in two days. Married to that old fart Sfortuno." She shuddered, her mouth arching down in a scowl. "He always smells of stale garlic. But I'll be spending the next two days preparing for the wedding and I won't be able to see you."

Giuseppe tried to comfort her. He took her in his arms and held her close, her head leaning on his collarbone, his hands stroking her curls.

"It's all right, bella mia - my beauty. We can still see each other after the wedding."

"But we're to go away for two weeks. I don't think I can stand two weeks alone with that ... that... becchino morto - undertaker. Even if I get him to drink chamomile to make him drowsy."

"The two weeks will pass quickly, make sure he drinks that chamomile. Better yet, use valerian root. It will make him sleepier than chamomile and he won't be so eager to touch you."

"Valerian has a stronger flavor than chamomile, he might notice. Maybe if I put it in his wine..."

Giuseppe spent the rest of their visit reassuring her that he would wait for her return, pining away for the lack of her company and eagerly anticipating their next meeting at the alcove. The only kiss that they shared was in parting. Maribella practically inhaled his tongue, her kiss was so ardent. But it was too soon over and she was gone, vanishing in the crowd to rejoin the elderly servant.

Giuseppe headed back to his room, despondent. He hadn't realized how much he cared for Maribella. She had become more than just a conquest of seduction, he genuinely desired her company. He already found himself missing her smile, the scent of her hair and the sound of her voice. He drank an extra cup of wine that evening, ignoring his own herbal advice. But he lay awake most of the night despite feeling drowsy from the alcohol. The next two weeks would be hell. The worst part was not knowing if they could someday resume their daily trysts at the alcove, or if Sfortuno would keep Maribella under tight watch, or even worse, completely sequestered at his villa. Giuseppe stared at the ceiling in the dark, wondering. Finally sleep overtook him.

He was late for the lectures the next day, Maestro Grassello was particularly hard on the young nobleman, pointing out any error he made and calling on him to repeat some obscure point or another of his lecture. Giuseppe was numb and didn't protest, answering in a wooden monotone, giving Grassello no satisfaction in tormenting him.

At Giuseppe insistence, he and his friend Francisco sneaked into the church to see the wedding. Giuseppe couldn't stand the thought of Maribella going away without seeing her one more time, even if she was being given to another man. She was wearing her scarlet betrothal gown and a beribboned circlet of bright flowers in her hair around her little cap. Despite her bright festive attire, there was a dark hint of sadness on her pretty face deeper than at her betrothal. Again the cause was the dour Sfortuno, still in his black doublet and hose. His shirt still needed to be laundered, it was likely the same shirt as before.

"You'd think that he could at least buy a new shirt for his own wedding. He certainly can afford it with his ships moving all that cargo. How did such a sour old skeleton get so beautiful a bride? He must have a pact with the devil." Francisco murmured to his friend. "For that matter, how did fat old Grassello sire such a lovely daughter?"

"It's because Grassello owes him money. Lots of money, even more than I have." Giuseppe sighed. "He took the daughter as payment on the loan. But she's worth even more that that, so much more."

"Giuseppe, are you sweet on her... on Grassello's daugher?" Francisco was so astounded he nearly let his voice get too loud. Fortunately he controlled himself in time with only a few nearby parishioners shushing him.

"I've fallen for her, Francisco, completely. I can't live without the hope of her touch or the memory of her kiss."

"So that's why you've been acting strangely the past few weeks. You haven't been to the inns to drink wine with the rest of us and not even practicing with your sword. Tell me what you've done."

Giuseppe quietly explained to Francisco about their meetings in the alcove, how Maribella was growing bolder each day and how tormented she was by her wedding to Sfortuno. How impressed he was with Maribella's natural figure, but even more with her intelligence. She should be studying at the university, not given away as a token to some creditor, he insisted. Francisco had never seen his friend this impassioned about anything, especially not the common women that hung around the student inns. Both he and Giuseppe had used their poetry and wits to seduce a few, but neither student ever became serious about one, not even to the point of seducing one more than twice. There were always more out there to sample.

While his friend pined away, Francisco's let his eye rove over the crowd in the church. In a side chapel dedicated to Saint Fabiola, just a few rows away from them was another somber figure that was out of place at a wedding. The shapely woman had left the onlookers and was kneeling at the shrine with her back to the ceremony. She had a dark veil of mourning thrown over her coffee-brown tresses, partially concealing her face. Francisco thought he recognized the woman as a recent widow, he had assisted Maestro Grassello in treating her elderly husband without success. The woman paused in her prayer and glanced over at the wedding in progress, allowing Francisco to glimpse her profile through the veil. It was her, the young widow Rosetta. Like Maribella, she had married a much older man, in fact she was only about three years older than Francisco. Idly he wondered if she needed some comforting in her bereavement, especially if she missed a warm and willing partner in bed. He was snapped out of his daydream by Giuseppe's hand on his sleeve, towing him out of the church to see Maribella and Sfortuno mount their horses and ride off with Sfortuno's trusted servant Bruno. A milk-white mare for Maribella and a completely black gelding with a black saddle and tack for Sfortuno. Bruno, the tough ex-sailor, walked along between them, leading their horses.

Francisco noticed Rosetta exiting the church and disentangled himself from Giuseppe, leaving his friend standing on the church porch.

"Signora Rosetta, allow me to express my condolences." Francisco pulled off his cap and gave a deep bow. "We tried to save your husband, but he was beyond our medical skill."

"I remember you, you gave him some foul-smelling herbs." Her eyes were dry and there was a slight smile on her lips despite her widow's veil. "They eased his pain."

"Let me buy you a cup of wine. I'm called Francisco..." He took her by the arm and led her away from the church, chatting as they went. It was a long time before Giuseppe noticed that his friend was gone.

======

The next few days in class, Francisco couldn't hide his grin and the several times he yawned. Giuseppe barely noticed his friend's lack of concentration. One day after class was over, he guided Giuseppe to a secluded corner where they could talk without easily being overheard.

"Giuseppe, I've found an angel. You should see Rosetta, such a beauty wasted behind a widow's veil." Francisco excitedly described the charms of his new lady friend but Giuseppe couldn't bring himself to show any enthusiasm. Francisco went on. "No, I haven't bedded her yet, but she kisses well and she's smart and witty and... you're not listening."

"Sorry Francisco, I can't concentrate. I keep thinking about Maribella and that... that..."

"Giuseppe," Francisco inturrupted, "you just need to put your humors in motion again, some physical exercise will help."

"But I don't want to see another woman, Maribella is the queen of my heart. I still go to our alcove every day, hoping that she's returned."

"Not that kind of exercise." Francisco rolled his eyes in exasperation. "Let's go get some sword practice. Since you've been pining away, I've gotten rusty. You should practice too in case you have to face one of Sfortuno's sailors like that servant of his, Bruno."

"Very well, you're right. Let's go." Giuseppe sighed.

There was a wide alleyway between some of the university halls where the students would practice their fighting skills. There was even a supply of "buttons" or point guards to fit on the tips of their blades so they could practice with actual weapons without killing each other. Francisco and Giuseppe fitted these buttons to their rapiers and daggers before sparring with each other. They practiced several different styles of fighting: rapier alone; dagger alone; rapier and dagger together; and rapier and cloak. As other students wandered in to practice, they traded off partners and sometimes even fought as a team against another pair of students. Giuseppe felt his blood stir at the rush of battle, even a practice fight. As a nobleman, he had trained to hold a sword from the time he first learned to walk. The blade became a part of him and his use of it was as natural as walking.

"Maddona! Have you been practicing without me? I don't think my point has touched you yet." Francisco was out of breath after several successive fights against Giuseppe. He leaned against the wall for support.

Giuseppe laughed for the first time since Maribella's wedding. "No, Francisco, its just a little natural talent and years of training. Let me show you something, you've been leaving the same opening for me every time..."

======

"I feel terrible, send for the physician." Sfortuno hunched over the saddle of his horse, his body racked by a dry cough.

"I've already sent Bruno ahead to fetch Papa and his assistant." Maribella bounced off of her mount with the agility of youth. "Here he is now."

Maestro Grassello entered the gate of Sfortuno's courtyard, along with his assistant Francisco and Sfortuno's tough-looking servant Bruno. Bruno rushed over to his master, helped him down off the horse and into a large chair in the house. Francisco started the examination, reporting his findings to Grassello, giving the professor time to greet his daughter.

"It looks like some contaminant in your food has caused the cough." Grassello pronounced. "Have you been eating oysters? No matter, a good laxative will purge that from your system. But first, a dose of hyssop to control the cough, take the laxative in about half an hour."

"Husband, Bruno can stay here to take care of you, I want to go with my father so I can visit with him and also go to the church where we married."

"There's a perfectly good church much closer, Bruno can take you later." Sfortuno croaked.

"I prefer my original church," She pouted, "er, so I can pray for your recovery."

She spun and was out the door before either her husband or Bruno could stop her. Maribella walked alongside her father, chatting while Francisco silently brought up the rear. When they turned onto the main thoroughfare leading to the church, Maribella and Francisco both spotted a familiar figure only a few steps ahead. Rosetta was walking just ahead of them, so intent on her own errand that at first she didn't notice her lover in the company of her friend and friend's father.

"Rosetta." Maribella called out. "How good to see you. I'm back from my journey, walk with us."

Rosetta spun around and smiled when she recognized the trio approaching her.

"Maribella, you're back. How was your journey? And bon giourno to you Maestro." Rosetta nodded her head at Maribella's father, then a quick, sly smile for Francisco. "I'm on my way to St. Fabiola's."

"And so are we." Maribella answered, taking the other young woman by the arm. They started chatting, sharing gossip and the occasional giggle and completely ignoring Grasello. He eased back a bit to walk beside Francisco, leaving his daughter and her friend to talk in relative privacy.

"Why St. Fabiola's instead of a closer church?" Maribella asked, thinking she might already know the answer, having noticed the quick glance exchanged between her friend and her father's assistant.

"She's the patron of marriages, especially unhappy ones. I've been visiting there since I married, first to pray that my husband would be gentler to me or else release me from my marriage, then to ease his pain when he was sick." Rosetta said in a low voice so that the men wouldn't hear.

"What about now?" Maribella persisted.

"Now I go there to give thanks for being out of my marriage... and for being happier." Rosetta slyly glanced back at Francisco.

"Oh, are you giving thanks for Francisco?" Maribella guessed.

"Finally I've found some happiness. Francisco and I were supposed to meet at the church this afternoon, I was surprised to see him here with you and your father." Rosetta quietly gave more details of her blossoming affair with Francisco, telling how he would sneak over her garden wall from an abandoned garden next door so the neighbors won't gossip. Maribella couldn't help glancing back at the young student with an ill-concealed smile.

"What about you, Maribella? Why do you go over to St. Fabiola's?" It was Rosetta's turn to be curious.

"Everyone knows that's the church where I married. I'll have to try praying at the shrine, maybe I can share in some of your luck. Sfortuno isn't the best of husbands, he smells of stale garlic all the time and he never lasts long enough. You know what I mean..."

Rosetta tittered at her friend's insinuation. "You just need to find a younger man to tend to your needs."

"I have found one, but we haven't had enough private time to do more than kiss. You might know him, he's Francisco's friend at the university." Maribella whispered a brief description of Giuseppe's attentions, how they would kiss while concealed by his cloak and how he wrote poetry for her.

"Francisco never wrote poetry for me." Rosetta pouted. She fell silent for the rest of the trip, but that was only a few minutes since they were quite close to the church by this time.

"Maestro, if you don't need me this afternoon, I'll stay with the ladies and see them safely home." Francisco offered.

"Very well, the rest of the day should be quiet." He said good bye to his daughter before heading off in the direction of the wine shops.

The trio entered the church and only spent a short time in prayer at the shrine of St. Fabiola. Rosetta kneeled quite close to Francisco, their arms touching while they prayed. The glances they exchanged made it clear that whatever they were praying for, it was hardly spiritual. Still, Maribella found a chance to whisper to Francisco that he should start composing poems for Rosetta. Once back outside, Francisco directed them towards the market square instead of the direction of their homes.

"Maribella, I might have a surprise for you." He guided them towards the partially hidden alcove where Maribella would meet Giuseppe.

To her delight, there was Giuseppe waiting in the alcove. She rushed over and threw her arms around him, practically knocking him down. Their kiss was so passionate that it was several minutes before they could untangle their tongues enough to speak.

"Maribella, I didn't expect to see you so soon. Francisco told me that he'd been summoned to your house, I was hoping that you'd returned." Giuseppe's grin was so wide it threatened to split his face.

"We came back early because Sfortuno can't drink chamomile without coughing. He thinks its some mysterious disease. Were you waiting here for me?" Maribella matched his grin.

"I've been coming here every day, just to remember. Nobody else knew that except... except Francisco." Giuseppe looked at his friend, comprehension dawning. "You set this up didn't you?"

Francisco released Rosetta from the deep kiss they were sharing. "Er, yes, I thought you'd be here. I wanted to surprise both of you."

"You certainly did just that. Thank you Francisco." Giuseppe turned his attention back to Maribella for another deep kiss.

"Uh, Giuseppe, the ladies have to get back before Sfortuno gets suspicious. It's time to go." Francisco urged.

"I'll come along." Giuseppe offered, unwilling to let go of his lover.

"No, that's not a good idea. Sfortuno will get suspicious." Maribella said. "I'll find some way to get word to you so we can meet again real soon."