Light on Lucrezia - By Plaidy, Jean Page 0,4
that you remember.”
“I would remember him all my life, no matter what had happened.”
“Lucrezia, he was your first lover. That man they married you to—Giovanni Sforza!” Sanchia wrinkled her nose with disgust. “You never loved him.”
“It is true,” said Lucrezia. “I never loved him, and now … I think I hate him.”
“He is no friend of yours. Who could expect it? He is branded as impotent. He’ll never forgive you that, Lucrezia. He’ll be your enemy for life.”
“I lied,” said Lucrezia. “I signed the document because they insisted and I was weak. Perhaps God punishes me because of the lie I told.”
Sanchia shook her head impatiently. “You had no alternative but to sign the document. Had not His Holiness and Cesare determined that you should sign?”
“But I should have stood out against them. Our marriage was consummated … many times.”
“Hush! It is something we know but never mention. And you are divorced now, sister, free of Sforza. Never say aloud those words, never admit your marriage was consummated. But Lucrezia, do stop grieving. Pedro is dead; nothing can bring him back, and that is an episode which is over. Learn to forget. He was your first love, I know, and you remember. But when you have had many lovers you will find it hard to remember what he looked like.”
“You forget—you, Sanchia, who have had lovers since you were a child, who have known so many that you cannot remember them all—you forget that we planned to marry, that we have a child.”
“You should not grieve for the child. He will be taken good care of.”
“Don’t you understand, Sanchia? Somewhere a baby lives … my baby. Some strange woman feeds him and soothes him when he cries. He is my baby … my own son—and you ask me to forget him!”
“You should not have had the child, Lucrezia.” Sanchia laughed suddenly. “I cannot help it. I think of you, standing before the dignitaries, solemnly swearing that your marriage to Sforza had not been consummated, and as a consequence you were virgo intacta, when actually you were pregnant … and in three months’ time your child would be born.”
“Do not speak of it, Sanchia; it is more than I can bear.”
“Dear sister, it is because you are young that you suffer so deeply. I tell you this, that when my brother comes it will be a different story. Oh, why is he not here! Shall I weary you with the stories of his many virtues, and how he and I were such good friends when we were very young? Shall I tell you how we escaped to the island of Ischia at the time of the French invasion? But I have told you of these matters before. I will tell you something else, Lucrezia. Yes, I will talk of myself, that you may forget your own sorrows. I and Goffredo are to be divorced.”
“That cannot be so.”
Sanchia’s blue eyes sparkled. “Oh, but it is! That is why I sent the women away. It is not yet the moment to let them into this secret.”
“Goffredo will be heartbroken. He worships you.”
“His future is being taken care of, and he’ll be pleased to pass me over to my new husband.”
“And why so?”
“Because my new husband is to be one whom he adores: Cesare.”
“But that is not possible,” said Lucrezia quickly.
“If the Pope and Cesare decide that they desire it, it will be done.”
“Cesare has long wished to leave the Church, and always our father has opposed it.”
Sanchia came a little closer to Lucrezia and spoke in a whisper: “Do you know who is the master now?”
Lucrezia was silent. Sanchia had done what she had set out to do; she had diverted Lucrezia’s thoughts from her own unhappiness.
“I have noticed often,” said Sanchia, “how His Holiness defers to Cesare, how he seeks always to please him. It seems that Cesare is loved even more than Giovanni Borgia was ever loved. Have you not noticed it? Cesare wants a wife, and who is more suited to be his wife than I?” Sanchia laughed slyly, her eyes looking beyond Lucrezia so that the younger girl knew that she was thinking of many passionate encounters with Cesare, the strongest and most feared personality in Rome, the most fascinating of men, the only one whom Sanchia considered worthy to be her husband.
“Do you mean,” said Lucrezia, “that they are seriously considering this matter?”
Sanchia nodded.
“But my father always wished one of his sons to follow him to the Papal