to have Our Lady pock-marked.
‘How is Giulia?’
‘She is… she is well.’ The pregnancy is still a secret in the house. At least he believes it is so. ‘I was late with business, so arrived when you were in bed.’
She nods, as if to say she understands and that it does not need explaining.
‘So, tell me what troubles you, you who must be one of the most fortunate young women in Christendom.’
‘Oh, I know that, Papà. I remember it every day in my prayers. But still…’ She takes a breath. If God has brought them together in the chapel, then surely He means it to be talked about. ‘Well, I am thinking about my husband.’
‘Your husband! Ha! It seems everyone wants to talk about husbands tonight.’ He gives a little shake of the head. ‘And what is it in particular you are thinking?’
She glances at him to try and read his mood better.
He squeezes her arm. ‘Come, tell me. I am your father and I love you dearly.’
‘I am wondering if he will come from Milan or Naples.’
‘Milan or Naples? What gives you that idea?’
‘Because I have heard… because I have heard that the Spanish marriage to Count d’Aversa will not take place now.’
‘From whom have you heard this?’
‘Oh Papà, people talk. I know that we, well… now that you are Pope things are different. We are now allied to the Sforzas in Milan, yes? Because they helped you in some way. And to keep an alliance in place you need a marriage. But Adriana says – well, not to me, but I heard her talking to others – that Milan and Naples are in disagreement with each other and so I thought that – that you must keep a balance between the two of them which means Naples needs an allegiance too…’
‘My, my.’ Alexander squeezes her hand, laughing. ‘Clearly you are wasted in study and sewing, Donna Lucrezia. You should be in the Pope’s Consistory. You understand more about things than most who sit there.’
‘That is not true,’ she says indignantly. ‘I think that many people understand more about this than me. Really! Two days ago Aunt Adriana turned away a messenger from Count d’Aversa. I could hardly not know, since he made a great fuss at being refused. She said it was on your orders.’
‘What else did your aunt say?’ he says, trying to keep the amusement from his voice.
‘Nothing. But we have many visitors.’
And gossip springs out from between the stitches in their cloth. Sometimes he thinks it is the only real occupation of Rome, listening to whispers: that for all the banking tables and the tanners’ yards, the economy is driven more by chatter than commerce. No wonder they do not grow as rich as Venice or Florence.
‘People pay suit to us to get close to you. We had the Prince of Ferrara here a few weeks ago! Alfonso d’Este. His father wants a cardinal’s hat for his younger son. Did you know that? We took his gifts but made no promises. We are most proper. Aunt Adriana sees to that. She is very good at it, Papà. Better than Giulia or I.’
As befits a woman who has negotiated the cuckolding of her son for the pleasure of her cousin. Ah. It seems he is to be pursued by such thoughts tonight. Well, what is done is done. Orsino has not fared badly from it. The man wants for nothing. Except perhaps for his wife. He can almost hear Giulia’s voice again in the darkness.
‘I am surprised young Alfonso didn’t ask for your hand in marriage while he was at it.’
‘Are you angry, Papà?’
‘No, no, child. I was thinking of something else.’
‘I am sorry if this is difficult,’ she says with sudden intensity. ‘But it seems to me that if I am old enough to be married then I am old enough to know these things.’
He takes her hand, white as a dove’s feathers. In Spain, under the grill of a cruel sun, they treasure the beauty of pale hands over all else. She would have been so admired in Valencia. But he needs – and he wants – her here now.
‘Very well,’ he says more seriously, making a decision to tell her the truth. ‘It is likely that you will not be married to Don Gaspar d’Aversa.’
‘But we are betrothed! What will he say when he finds out?’
‘He will shout bloody murder. Most of Rome can hear him taking in the breath already. But he will