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Pietro d’Angelo said. “I must call a meeting of my guild and present this to them. If Milan sends a representative to London, then so must Florence. No one will want to go, of course, and leave their businesses to their sons alone.”
    “Send Lucianna to represent Florence. She knows your business well. Certainly better than your heir does. Your fellow tradesmen know and like your daughter. I would even go so far as to say they trust her. Milan will send some stuffy fellow who will have difficulty dealing with our merchants. Florence’s representative will be a beautiful woman who speaks our language with an absolutely delightful accent, and she will charm her way among our merchants.”
    “There will be some among my guild who will be difficult to convince that sending a woman is the right thing to do,” Giovanni said.
    “Convince them that it is. Remind them that the English king sent his representative to purchase silks for his queen in Florence, and it was your daughter who sold him a large order, though that is not quite true. The Pietro d’Angelos therefore have a small amount of influence with the English now, which means that silk merchants of Florence do too. They should not deny that prestige, Giovanni.”
    “All of this to gain my daughter’s company in England?” The silk merchant laughed, unable to help himself. “You are a very clever man, Roberto, but your idea actually has merit.” Then he sighed. “I shall have to go back to my shop full-time if I let Lucianna go to England. My son is well meaning, but a dunce where his mistress is concerned. A more scheming baggage I have never known, but Marco is enamored of her. It is to be hoped she will eventually find a wealthier protector, and then Marco will be sent packing, but until that time, he has not the wit or the will to concentrate on the business.”
    There was a knock upon the door, and a servant called, “The mistress bids you and the English lord to table,
signore
.”
    “We had best go, lest we incur Orianna’s displeasure,” the silk merchant said with a small smile.
    The two men hurried to the dining room and took their places. A priest at the table offered a blessing, and everyone sat. The meal was well cooked and delicious. The wines served were quite good, and the earl complimented his hostess.
    Orianna smiled, quite pleased. When the last of the goblets had been cleared from the table, Lucianna announced that they must be going. “It is not yet dark,” her mother said. “Remain a bit longer.”
    “No, Mother,” her third daughter replied. “You have been very gracious to us, but it is time to leave.” She stood up, looking to the earl.
    He could see desperation in her eyes. “Indeed, we must go,
signora
,” he agreed with Lucianna. “Your hospitality has been most pleasant, but even I am wise enough not to walk your streets in the dark. I often wonder why the streets of cities become so dangerous after the sun has set.” He took Orianna’s elegant hand and kissed it, bowing.
    “I believe Roberto is wise, my dear, and careful of our daughter, which I know you appreciate,” Giovanni Pietro d’Angelo said in smooth and placating tones to his wife. He knew the game she was playing well. Having fed her guest, and filled him with wine, she was now ready to pounce. Lucianna knew this game too, which was why she was so intent on hurrying the earl from her parents’ palazzo.
    Orianna sighed dramatically. “Very well,” she conceded, “if you think you must go, then you must. I hope you will come again, my lord.” And then she smiled her most charming smile at him.
    “I would be honored,” Robert Minton said, bowing again. Then he turned, taking Lucianna’s arm politely, and they departed the Pietro d’Angelos’ palazzo, walking quickly to regain the little green park.
    “Thank heavens!” Lucianna smiled. “I freed you before she was able to begin her interrogation. She will be most annoyed with me for it, I