He was happy that his beloved Bella was singing to their children... and he just wished he had their opportunity growing up... BUT, he would ensure his children would have what he never had... a loving family. “Shall I have a maestro come and visit you? He can bring a composer with him and you and they can work on songs together.”
And he tenderly caressed her face.
And when he spoke of going to Espania, she got an odd expression of disfavor. Apparently, she did not like the idea of his leaving, but he could not do anything for her that the servants, or her handmaids, could not do... and the doctor would be on call for her. And her expression did not quite match her words, but he took it as fear for a new Mother. He pats her hand... “I shant be too long... five or six days by ship there; five or six days back and seven to ten days in the City. I shall be back well in time for the babes to arrive.”
Laying down beside her, propping his head on his own arm, he looks at her. “I am glad you have gotten out, you are far too pale my dear... the sun shall do you good. Just do not get too much sun.”
And he pondered how many things could go wrong with pregnant women, and the mortality rate of childbirth, despite the quality of physicians in the Republic. Finally he could actually say that *money was no object
*... and he knew he had an excellent physician for her... and experienced handmaids and servants about her. But this was not a pleasure journey, but one to enhance their standing in the teatro.
Soon a servant arrived and notified Gian that a Signore Pietro Vivaldi di Ferrara had arrived... and Gian rose, apparently elated, kissed his wife’s head, and walked briskly back to the palazzo. Moments later, he and an oddly dressed man, as if he was from the past, and carrying a violin, strolled out to the garden... Gian immediately to Pietro and indicated his wife... “Signore, this is Signora Bella d’Foscari, my wife...”
and he looked at Bella... “Sweetheart, this is Signore Pietro Vivaldi di Ferrara... our new violinist...”
And the man took a deep bow, one reminiscent of decades, maybe even a century, past... “Signora Foscari... I am so humbled to make your acquaintance... I pray that my music shall soothe the babe... and all concerns shall flee its grasp upon the listeners...”
He was so charming, well-mannered, and physically pleasing