Light on Lucrezia: A Novel of the Borgia - By Jean Plaidy Page 0,6

to the King of France that I am deeply considering the possibility of granting that dispensation. Then I shall tell him of my son—my beloved son—who desires to leave the Church.”

“Father!”

There were tears in Alexander’s eyes. It delighted him to bring such pleasure to his loved one.

“I doubt not, my dearest son, that before long you will find yourself enabled to cast off the purple for which so many crave and from which you so long to escape.”

“You understand my feelings, Father. It is because I know my destiny does not lie within the Church.”

“I know, my dearest son, I know.”

“Father, bring about my release and I’ll promise you shall not regret it. Together we will see all Italy united under the Borgia Bull. Our emblem shall shine forth from every town, every castle. Italy must unite, Father; only thus can we take our stand against our enemies.”

“You are right, my son. But do not talk to others of these matters as you talk to me. Our first task is to free you from the Church, and I shall demand Louis’ help in exchange for his divorce. But I shall ask more than that. You shall have an estate in France and … a wife.”

“Father, how can I show my gratitude?”

“Let there be no such talk between us,” said the Pope. “You are my beloved son, and my greatest wish is to bring honor, glory and happiness to my children.”

“This talk of a divorce between Sanchia and Goffredo?”

The Pope shook his head. “On the grounds of the non-consummation of the marriage! I like it not. People will be talking of Lucrezia’s divorce from Sforza, and we shall have that scandal revived. I hope soon to have the little boy brought to me here, and I long for that day. No, as yet there shall be no divorce. And you, my son, with the titles which will come to you when you leave the Church, will not wish for marriage with your brother’s divorced wife. Why should you? Oh, Sanchia is a beautiful woman, well skilled in the arts of love; but do you need marriage to enjoy those? Not you, my son. You have been enjoying all you could get as Sanchia’s husband, these many months. Continue in your pleasure. I would not have you curb it. But marry Sanchia! A Princess, I grant you, but an illegitimate one. What say you to a legitimate Princess of Naples, Cesare?”

Cesare was smiling.

Holy Mother of God, said the Pope to himself, how beautiful are my children and how my heart trembles with the love I bear them.

Alfonso Duke of Bisceglie rode quietly into Rome. There were no crowds to line the streets and strew flowers in his path. He came unheralded. The Pope had wished that there would be no ceremonial entry. The scandal of Lucrezia’s divorce was too recent, having taken place only six months previously, and since during that time Lucrezia had borne a child—and how was it possible, however many precautions were taken, to keep these matters entirely secret?—it was better for the new bridegroom to come unheralded.

So Alfonso apprehensively came to Santa Maria in Portico.

Sanchia, awaiting his arrival was with Lucrezia. She guessed what his feelings would be. She knew he would come reluctantly, and she was fully aware of the tales he would have heard regarding the notorious family into which he was to marry. He did not come as a respected bridegroom, as a conquering prince, but as a symbol of the desire of Naples for friendship with the Vatican.

“Have no fear, little brother,” murmured Sanchia. “I will take care of you.”

She would demand of Cesare that he be her brother’s friend; she would make it a condition for Cesare was her lover. If Cesare showed friendship for young Alfonso—and Cesare could be charming when he so desired—others would follow. The Pope, whatever he was planning, would be gracious; and Lucrezia, however much she mourned Pedro Caldes, would be gentle with Alfonso.

Sanchia was longing to show her brother the power she held at the Vatican. Her love for other men waxed strongly and waned quickly, but her love for her young brother was constant.

Lucrezia, with Sanchia and their women, went down to greet her betrothed; and as soon as she saw him her interest was stirred, and it was as though the idealized shadow of Pedro Caldes receded a little. Alfonso was such a handsome boy. He was very like Sanchia, having the same vivid coloring,