Light on Lucrezia: A Novel of the Borgia - By Jean Plaidy Page 0,61

her fatigued while she is with us. A long journey lies before her and travel can be so exhausting. Remember you are in my charge and I must consider your comfort.”

The duenna bowed and Dorotea took her leave of Elizabetta. Her eyes lingered for a second on the figure of the Duke of Romagna. She shivered faintly, and was thankful that she was in the charge of her sometimes tiresome duenna.

Cesare felt angry and frustrated when she had gone. He was no longer interested in the entertainment, for the women seemed dull and prim to him, and he was filled with an urgent desire—which was fast becoming a necessity—to make the lovely Dorotea his mistress.

Dorotea rode out from Urbino surrounded by her friends and attendants.

They were all chatting about the ceremony and the clothes they would wear and how soon they would enter the Venetian Republic and there find Gian Battista Carracciolo waiting to greet them.

They were close to Cervia when a band of cavalry came galloping toward them. They were not alarmed; it did not occur to them that these horsemen would do them any harm; but as they came nearer it was seen that they were masked, and Dorotea was sure there was something familiar about their leader who shouted to them to halt.

The wedding party drew up. “You will not be harmed,” they were told. “We seek one of your party; the rest may travel on unharmed.”

Dorotea began to tremble, because she understood.

Her duenna said in a shaking voice: “You are mistaken in us. We are simple travelers on our way to Venice. We are going to attend a wedding.”

The masked man who had seemed familiar to Dorotea had ridden up to her, forced her duenna aside and laid a hand on her bridle.

“Have no fear,” he whispered. Then leading her horse after him, he moved away from the crowd while one of his men seized the youngest and prettiest of Dorotea’s maids and the men galloped away taking the girls with them.

“How dare you!” cried Dorotea. “Release me at once.”

Her captor only laughed, and there was something devilish in his laughter which filled her with terror.

She looked back; she could see the group on the road, the soldiers surrounding her party, preventing pursuit; and she knew that the masked man who had abducted her was Cesare Borgia; she knew the meaning of this and that Gian Battista Carracciolo would wait in vain for his bride, for Cesare Borgia had seen her, desired, waylaid her that his lust might be satisfied.

Isabella d’Este, when she heard of her brother’s proposed marriage with Lucrezia, was furious.

She wrote at once to her father, Duke Ercole, and told him that on no account must Lucrezia Borgia join the family. It was preposterous. These upstart Borgias … who were they to think of mingling their blood with the best in Italy?

She could tell him a great deal about the Borgias. Giovanni Sforza, Lucrezia’s first husband, had been staying in her court and the tales he had to tell would have been past belief if they had not concerned the Borgias.

The divorce had been arranged, so said Isabella, because the Pope was jealous of Lucrezia’s husband and wanted her all to himself. Incredible? But these were Borgias. It was said that Lucrezia had been the mistress of all her brothers. That too seemed absurd. Must she remind him again that these were Borgias? Had he heard the latest scandal? Dorotea da Crema, on her way to meet her bridegroom, had been waylaid by Cesare Borgia and taken off to be raped. The poor girl had not been heard of since. And it was a member of that brute’s family to whom her father was thinking of marrying the heir of Ferrara!

Isabella was right, mused Ercole. He wanted no Borgia in his family; but he must be very careful how he worded his refusal to the Pope.

There had been a time when a marriage between Alfonso and Louise d’Angoulême had been suggested. Therefore Ercole wrote, greatly regretting having to refuse the offer made by the Pope, but explaining that his son Alfonso had already made promises to this lady and was consequently not in a position to consider the brilliant marriage with His Holiness’s daughter which the Pope so generously offered.

Ercole settled down in peace. Alfonso must marry soon. But it should not be with a Borgia.

When Alexander received Ercole’s letter he became pensive. It was clear to him that Ercole was not eager