Infinite Devotion (5 page)

“What has happened?” Many fears run through my head.

“Pantasilea! Don Michelotto came last night and took her away, and she hasn’t shown up for work this morning.”

Perotto must have met with Father.

“Fetch my messenger; I need to see to her whereabouts.”

My messenger returns the next day and reads:

Dearest Sister,
I regret to inform you that your maidservant, Pantasilea, has been found but under unhappy circumstance. She and the messenger boy, Perotto, must have been having a lover’s stroll on Saint Valentine’s day and fell into the Tiber and drowned. It is sad such young love was extinguished, but now all is right with the world. Your virtue is safe, and you have nothing to fear as long as your loving brother is keeping out a watchful eye.
Your protector,
Cesare, Duke of Gandia

Chapter 7

One month later, I give birth. I name him Giovanni Borgia, after Juan, but due to his dubious parentage, he becomes better known as the Roman Infant. Father comes immediately to collect us to the Vatican, and the baby is kept away from me and raised by wet nurses.

I’m not allowed to love anything.

Cesare bursts into my room. “Sister, stop moping and come with me at once.”

“Where are you going?” I look up from my embroidery.

“I have arranged something that will lift your spirits.” He pulls me up from my chair.

Cesare has brought me everywhere with him since I returned. I can’t be sure if he needs my company or is keeping a watchful eye on me. He helps me walk up the spiral stone stairway to the top of the Vatican walls. Don Michelotto is standing there on the balcony, and he gives me a cold steel stare that makes me shiver.

“My crossbow,” Cesare barks.

Don Michelotto immediately obeys. Cesare holds up his bow and tests the tension on the bow.

He calls out, “Release the prisoners!”

Michelotto leans forward on the stone wall, picking his teeth. Two doors open up in the courtyard below, and a dozen haggard, starved men are herded out on the grounds.

Cesare screams out, “Run you fools!” and he shoots one in the center of his chest. Before he falls, the other prisoners, grasping the situation, go clamoring and clawing their way back to the doors that the guards are closing. Two loud thuds tell the prisoners there’s no escape, and with Cesare’s terrifying laugh ringing out from above, the prisoners run for any cover they can find. Nevertheless, Cesare’s arrows penetrate the topiaries and hedges they cower under. Two quick prisoners run along the courtyard wall, trying to find an open door or way out. I close my eyes at the horror, and I’m truly terrified by Cesare’s inhumanity. After two guttural screams, I know he must’ve found the last prisoners, and I open my eyes to catch one falling from halfway up the wall.

He hands the crossbow back to Don Michelotto. “I never seem to tire of this.” He turns to me. “Sister, did you enjoy my little surprise?”

I don’t respond.

He laughs, opening his mouth wide. “You need to stop being so sensitive.” His amber eyes are rolling. “You’re either going to be the deer or the wolf. I choose to be the wolf.”

We walk down to breakfast with Father. I can’t think of eating after what I’ve just witnessed in the courtyard, but Cesare’s already shoving food into his bearded mouth. Father hasn’t even acknowledged my approach since he’s so deep in conversation.

“Jews are fleeing from Spain in great numbers. They’re flooding Rome, Holy Father,” a cardinal stresses.

“Let them come.” He shrugs as he tears off a piece of bread.

“Let them come? We are the center of the Church, and you want it populated with Jews?”

“I see nothing wrong with harboring the Jews. It’s not my right to persecute them. They will serve Rome well as a great source of revenue.”

The cardinal pauses. “I’m no longer hungry, Your Holiness.”

He bows his head and leaves the table.

Father shrugs and turns to Cesare. “These ideological imbeciles try to pretend the Vatican is not a business.”

Noticing me, he smiles. “Oh, hello! It’s good to see you up so early. Cesare’s been cheering you up, I see.”

I give a pretend smile.

“Well, my spirits are up this morning also. I’ve received a promising response from Alfonso II, the former King of Naples. He’s curious as to what our dowry would be should he give his illegitimate son, Alfonso of Aragon, in marriage to Lucrezia.”

I grow weary of their talks about potential suitors, but this perks Cesare’s interest.

“Nephew of the present King of Naples?”

“Correct, one step closer to marrying Carlotta, Princess of Naples.”

“We should raise an attractive dowry to entice him,” Cesare says, as his eyes roll back in calculation.

Father asks, “Do you think we can raise one hundred thousand ducats?”

“That’s what he’s asking?”

“I’ll be auctioning off the next cardinal position in a few weeks. That can generate quite a fortune.”

“We can always have Don Michelotto discreetly free up another cardinal position for bidding.”

My father’s eyes twinkle with pride at Cesare’s ambition. “I know just the one.” He chuckles to himself while looking where the last cardinal just sat. “I’ll send a messenger to Alfonso II at once with the generous offer.”

He pats Cesare on the back with a heavy hand.

∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞

A week later, news circulates that the cardinal who had excused himself from breakfast had suddenly gone into fits and died within minutes while dining in the Vatican. The rumor is it was poison.

Father notifies me that Alfonso II has accepted their offer, and they’re negotiating the marriage arrangement. The only thing I’m looking forward to is that Sancia is Alfonso’s sister and will be sharing court with me.

I feel foolish walking down the aisle again, pretending to be a virgin. It’s the exact same ceremony except I have a different dress, gold to pale blue. I wear a fine skirt of silken camel hair with jeweled sleeves. A belt of pearls and rubies adorns my waist, matching a heavy necklace of tiny pearls and embroidered cap with a band of enameled gold on top of my long braid of golden hair.

Also, sadly, Juan’s not here to make me laugh in his childish way. I see my father standing sternly at the end of the aisle, but Alfonso catches my eye and holds it. He’s the most beautiful man I’ve ever seen. I must have smiled involuntarily at the sight of him. He’s young, tall, and muscularly lean. He has the most dazzling green eyes I’ve ever seen and shining brown hair with copper highlights. His cheekbones are high and he has a small goatee. My heavy heart suddenly lightens.

When our eyes meet, he glances down, slightly smiling but trying to control a serious face. Once I reach him, we’re told to kneel, and I try to glance up at him whenever I get occasion to. My heart is racing. He picks up my left hand and pauses as he sees the mole I’ve had since birth. He bends down and softly kisses it, causing goose bumps to flash across my body.

Can I be so lucky?

Alfonso’s dressed regally in black brocade lined with crimson velvet with a black velvet cap. Before the wedding, I’ve had my father’s goldsmith create a brooch with something fitting for a wedding. My ladies delivered it to him to wear on his cap before the wedding, and I wasn’t even interested enough to look at it. I study it now and see two joined circles flashing proudly over his dark brow.

After our vows, I hold on to Alfonso’s strong arm as he brings me to the reception. Father claps for everyone’s attention and makes a toast.

“May my daughter be cherished and adored by her worthy husband as much as I adore her. May you find riches in both gold and in love.” Everyone raises their glasses and drinks. “Now let’s have the young couple dance for us before we dine.”

Alfonso sweeps me out onto the ballroom floor, and we perform the bassa dance. I feel for the first time that no one’s watching me. The only person who seems important is holding me in his arms. Time flashes by; the night’s a blur of clinking glasses, music, and laughter. I’m free and flying for the first time in my life. The forgotten sense of hope results in a perpetual smile, and I’m lit up from within.

Father gives another toast at sundown. “It’s the twenty-fourth hour, and it’s time to say good-bye to our newlyweds. Our night will go on drearily while they partake in virgin glory. Good luck to you, my new son!”

The drunks laugh heartily at this, but even his vulgarity can’t penetrate the happiness I feel.

Alfonso escorts me up to our suite, and we walk out on the balcony together overlooking the same courtyard Cesare’s tainted for me, but nothing can be ugly next to his beauty. The sun’s red and low in the sky, basking us in a vibrant glow. He smiles at me, and I see a slight space between his front teeth that warms my heart.

He leans into me and asks, “How can it be that I’ve only known you for a day?” He picks up my long braid and brings it close to his mouth. “When I look in your eyes, I do not see a stranger.”

I search his eyes, eyes that have known me much longer, and he bends down to kiss me, satisfying the waiting of what feels like a hundred years for such a kiss.

Chapter 8

Even with Perotto’s passionate meetings, I’d always felt an emptiness inside that Alfonso seems to spill into and warm. One look, one touch, one laugh is enough to brighten any day, and every day with him is plain and wonderful. When we leave to Aragon, I don’t even cry. He’s all I want, and wherever he’ll go, I’ll follow. Sancia also becomes another great happiness to me. Whenever Alfonso’s off hunting or traveling, she stays with me, and we stroll among the gardens and practice our courtly dances.

“Lucrezia, Cesare’s messenger came yesterday while you and Alfonso were, how shall I say, indisposed.”

I throw my cap at her.

“Isn’t that when you were occupying Jofre?”

She snorts and glares over at Jofre climbing a tree on the far ground. “He’s too busy occupied with his toys. So sad, really.”

I feel badly for her being with such a child.

“Here is the letter. Read me the words of his magnificence.” She rolls her eyes.

Your Beatitude,
It has been a month since your wedding, and neither Father nor I have heard from you. It is not like you to forget your family in such a way, and I may have to make a visit out to check on you if I don’t get word within days. You seemed quite pleased with our choice of Alfonso for you, so much so you forgot to dance with me. However, I’ll forgive you, sister, if you promise to write and visit us soon. No female pleases me in the way that you do, and I hope Alfonso’s dashing looks do not keep you so entertained that you forget your brother.
Give Sancia a kiss for me.
Duke of Gandia

“Duke of Gandia! He writes that as if he didn’t steal it!” Sancia grabs the letter out of my hand, tears it into a hundred pieces, and throws them up in the air, spinning around under the paper snow.

When she sits back down, she says, “Nothing pleased me more than watching Cesare watch you and Alfonso dance. The look of jealousy in his eyes, his pure contempt of your unexpected happiness, oh, it was a fine night! I think it was the first time Cesare didn’t dance with anyone!”

“I didn’t even notice what Cesare was doing. I was too busy staring at Alfonso.”

“That’s what angered Cesare the most. He wasn’t the most amazing man in the room. Alfonso’s light had outshone his, and he thought he had won that in ridding the world of my beautiful Juan.”

She glances down at the grass she’s splitting and then looks up. “How could you ever forgive him for that?”

I know she won’t listen, but I try anyway. “My father investigated his death, and all leads pointed to the Orsini.”

“Deep in my heart, I know it was Cesare, not only for the dukedom, but because I’d favored him.”

“I know exactly why you loved him so.” I try to soften her.

“Do you know there’s a rumor that Juan had received a letter sent from me before he went to the country, telling him to meet me alone in Rome and to not tell Cesare?”