The Borgia Bride

No, I told myself, horrified that I was beginning to actually be swayed by Alexander’s argument. No, he is doing this because he realizes he is losing his daughter, and he will say anything to try to keep her in Rome.

He paused; none of us spoke, for we were all startled into silence by his frank speech.

‘I pray every night that God might pardon my son for his actions,’ Alexander continued sadly. ‘And I pray God might take pity on me for being such a foolish old man that I did not find a way to stop terrible things from happening. I hope, Alfonso, that someday you will be able to forgive me for my negligence. In the meantime, know that whatever protection, whatever assistance you require while under my roof, I will gladly grant.’ He rose, again releasing a little groan. Alfonso stood as well-prompting His Holiness to gesture for him to retake his seat. ‘No,’ Alexander insisted. ‘Sit. Rest.’

But Alfonso remained stalwartly on his feet. ‘Thank you, Your Holiness, for your visit and your words. God be with you.’ His tone was undeniably courteous, but I knew my brother. He had not believed a word of the Pope’s speech.

‘And with you.’ Alexander blessed us all with the sign of the cross, then left.

After her father’s visit, Lucrezia grew and remained visibly saddened. Perhaps she had finally realized that she would be breaking with her family forever by leaving for Naples, and would certainly never see her father alive again. I was sorry for her, but at the same time, I could not repress my growing joy at the thought of soon being free from the treachery of the Borgias; indeed, I looked forward to the moment I heard news of Cesare’s death.

We were to leave in the pre-dawn hours of the twentieth of August.

Two days before, the eighteenth of August, began as a quiet morning-a content one for me. In my own mind, I had already left behind the possessions I had acquired in Rome. I dared not risk asking Jofre to bring me anything to take to Naples. He would be hurt by my abandonment-but if he truly loved me and wanted to follow, he could find a way.

In the meantime, I was content to travel to Naples with nothing more than the two gowns I had with me. I cared not if I ever saw my jewels again.

And so that morning I was cheerful, Alfonso restless, and Lucrezia sombre, for I think she had already begun to miss her family and Rome. We behaved as naturally as we could so that no visitor would guess our time in the Hall of the Sibyls was coming to an end. Lucrezia asked to have little Rodrigo brought to our apartment, and we played with him all morning: he proved a fine distraction for us, for he was crawling now, and we had to chase him all over the apartment to keep him out of mischief. At last, the little boy fell asleep in his father’s arms, and Lucrezia stared for an hour at the two with a love so profound I was moved.

By lunchtime, however, she sent little Rodrigo back to the nursery to be fed, and we were left with nothing but our own thoughts to entertain us.

In the afternoon, drowsy after a sleepless night filled with thoughts of Naples, I went with Lucrezia to the bedchamber, where we both collapsed upon our mattresses. I fell asleep almost at once, though I doubt Lucrezia did; I remember, just before drifting towards slumber, hearing her toss restlessly.

I was wakened by the sound of footsteps, marching, and a man’s voice, calling a command-then the sound of more footfall, of soldiers leaving. The sound provoked such anxiety in me, even before I was fully conscious, that my heart pounded fiercely. I scrambled from my bed and rushed into the antechamber.

The papal guards who had protected us were gone; in their place was a squad of unfamiliar soldiers, and a dark-haired, red-caped commander with a dignified military bearing that reminded me of the deceased Juan de Cervillon.

Most of the soldiers had drawn their blades. As I watched, a pair of them went over to Don Clemente and Don Galeano, and secured the doctors’ hands behind their backs with chains.

‘Madonna Sancha,’ the commander said politely, and bowed low. ‘May I inquire as to the location of your brother, the duke?’

‘I am here,’ Alfonso said.

I turned. My brother stood in the doorway, one hand upon the wall. In the other hand he held his dagger, and in his eyes was the look of a man ready to fight to the death.

Lucrezia rushed from the antechamber to stand in front of her husband. ‘Don Micheletto,’ she said, with unmasked contempt. ‘You had no right to dismiss our guards-they were there on His Holiness’ orders. Call them back at once, and take your men with you.’

I recognized the name, though not the face-Micheletto Corella was Cesare’s second-in-command.

‘Donna Lucrezia,’ he said, again with the same mild courtesy, as though his men bore gifts of fruits and flowers rather than swords, ‘I am afraid I cannot obey. I have orders from my master, the Captain-General, and I am bound to follow them. I am to arrest all the men here, including the duke, on charges of conspiracy against the House of Borgia.’

A sickening sensation, cold and burning, consumed my entire being. The plot against Cesare had apparently been discovered-and attributed to my brother.

‘This is a lie,’ Alfonso said, ‘a fact of which you are well aware, Don Micheletto.’

Micheletto failed to react with defensiveness. ‘I am merely doing my duty, Don Alfonso. I have been told that you, along with other conspirators, are planning to assassinate both Don Cesare and the Holy Father. I am to escort you to the prison at the Castel Sant’Angelo.’

‘My father will never support this!’ Lucrezia countered. ‘He has guaranteed Don Alfonso his protection. Moreover, he has already stated his opposition to Cesare on this matter, and would be furious to know that you are here, attempting to arrest my husband. If you lay a hand on him, it will cost you your life! I will see to it myself!’

Micheletto considered this quite seriously; uncertainty crept into his expression. ‘I have no desire to disobey His Holiness, for he is my ultimate commander. I would be happy to wait should you wish to consult him.’ This was not unreasonable, as Alexander was at the moment only two doors away. ‘If His Holiness dismisses us, I am willing to go without my prisoners.’

Lucrezia headed for the now-unguarded, flung-open doors. As she passed me, she caught the crook of my arm. ‘Come,’ she commanded. ‘Between the two of us, we will convince my father. I am sure he will come and speak to Don Micheletto directly.’

I pulled free of her grasp, shocked by her naivete: Did she, clever Lucrezia, really believe it safe to leave Alfonso unattended, with only a dagger and some unarmed servants to defend himself against a squad of Cesare’s men?

‘I will stay,’ I insisted.

‘No, come,’ she said. ‘The two of us together can persuade him.’

She tried again to catch my arm.

She is mad, I thought. Mad, or more foolish than I ever knew. I backed away from her and said, ‘Lucrezia, if one of us does not remain with my brother, he is lost.’

‘Come,’ she repeated, and this time, her tone rang hollow. She reached for me again, and this time, understanding the game with a sense of unspeakable betrayal and fury, I felt for my stiletto.

Panic seized me then: The protection Alfonso had bestowed on me so long ago was missing. Someone-when I was asleep, or otherwise diverted-had stolen it from me, someone who knew that Corella was coming, and that this very scenario would unfold.

But only three people knew of the stiletto’s existence: Alfonso, who had given it to me, Esmeralda, who dressed me…and Cesare, who had rescued me the night I used it against his drunken father.

I gazed upon Lucrezia with unspeakable fury at her betrayal; she looked away.

I lunged between Micheletto and my brother. I could do no more than try to shield Alfonso with my own body.

At once, a pair of soldiers was upon me. Together, they pushed me forward, past Don Micheletto and his men, out into the corridor. I went reeling and fell hard against cold marble.

Tangled in my skirts, I struggled to rise; I succeeded only after Lucrezia had stepped outside the apartment.