Then, mysteriously, he no longer smelled or tasted it. ‘Come,’ she called. Father had traveled to Florence to the Mercato Nuovo, staying away for a half year at a time paying court to the house of the silk merchant Iovelli, which was patronized by none other than the Medicis. It was nothing like the big church wedding she wanted, but nothing could shame her greater than to have a child out of wedlock. Play fair with her. “My brother’s room when he comes home. It was true. Like the Valades, I imagine. Ha! ha! What have I left but despair and madness? Promise me one thing, Mr.
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