Page 65

Luigi nodded. “Laraba has the eyes of a falcon. The Borgias have used poison often enough themselves not to be careful in choosing a good man, and with Laraba, we’ll have to be magicians in order to slip poison into the food.”

“I agree.” Lorenzo had stopped, his gaze on a tall shrub abounding with clusters of delicate pale rose blossoms. “Is that not a pretty sight, Luigi? I wasn’t sure I could find this beauty here on the outskirts of Rome.

In my own birthplace of Naples you see these bushes frequently, indeed they grew in my garden.

Ah, how lovely it was to see the first flowering in spring. Hand me the hatchet.”

Luigi scowled as he handed the hatchet to Lorenzo. “I don’t know why I had to carry the hatchet anyway.”

“It was only sensible. You’re built like a bull and have a comparable strength. Why should I be the beast of burden when you’re far more suited to it?”

“And now you’re taking the cuttings of silly bushes? I warn you, I’ll not let you plant them in my little patch of a garden. That’s only for my herbs.”

“Luigi, I’m truly hurt you won’t share your plot of earth with me.” Lorenzo was quickly chopping several large branches from the bush. “Now what is better? A spot of blossoming beauty for the eyes or herbs and vegetables for the stomach?”

“The stomach. You’ll not plant your stupid flowers in my garden.”

Lorenzo sighed as he handed Luigi back the hatchet. “Oh, very well.” He gathered the branches up in his arms. “I guess I’ll have to find something else to do with them.”

“I’ve sent the message to Damari,” Giulia said as soon as Lion opened the door in answer to her knock.

“Santini is to deliver my letter. Caprino used him once before, so Damari will recognize him and perhaps feel safer.” She smiled.

“Santini is one of the assets I acquired from Caprino’s demise.

He’s a reliable man and trustworthy as long as an opponent’s bribe is not too great. ”

“We cannot ask more than that, can we?” Lion asked. “A bribe or a threat can be equally effective to control a wavering loyalty.”

Giulia’s smile faded. “What is your meaning? Do you think to threaten me?”

“Only if it’s needed.”

Giulia’s gaze went past his shoulder to Sanchia, who still occupied the big bed across the chamber. Her lips tightened. “I see you will no longer have need of the other chamber.”

“No.” Lion paused. “We go to the priest today. We plan to wed before the week ends.”

“Wed?” Her eyes widened. “You’ll wed her? But why should you—” She quickly schooled her angry expression. “I suppose you must do as you think best.” She turned away. “I will tell you when I receive word from Damari.”

“You’re getting twigs and branches all over my floor,” Luigi complained. “I won’t pick them up, you know.”

“My dear Luigi, I’m well aware you keep nothing clean in this hovel but your pots and trenchers.” Lorenzo chopped another outcrop of lance-shaped leaves from the branch between his knees. “And I’m sure you’ll suffer no profound distress from the mess I’m adding to this disaster of a room.”

“I didn’t ask you to move in here.” Luigi added, “Mario kept the house clean. I tried to tell him it was unhealthy but he would laugh and say, ‘Papa, your fine food will have a foul taste if seasoned with dust. Come, we will spend the evening sweeping and polishing.’”

“And you’ve obviously done neither since he died.” Lorenzo tore off a delicate pink blossom from the branch and tossed it at Luigi, striking him on his cheek. “Admit that you like having me here. I give you someone on whom to vent your bilious spleen.”

“I do not like you here. Why should I?” Luigi picked up the blossom and sniffed at it. “You’re not good company as was my Mario. You only waste my hard-earned money by burning my candles to read your fine books and speak only to make mock of me.”

“But I also eat your delicious cooking with an appreciation you don’t encounter every day.”

“That is true,” Luigi said grudgingly. “You’re no fool when it comes to the important things of life. Perhaps that’s why I tolerate you.”

“Perhaps.” Lorenzo put the now denuded branch aside. “Hand me that other branch, will you?”

Luigi pushed the branch toward him across the table. “But I will go for no more walks with you in the woods. I could have spent the morning in far more important occupations.”

“I realize it was a great sacrifice for you.”

“And for what?” Luigi stood up and began to gather the discarded twigs and branches from the floor. “To give you something to whittle.” He carried the bundle of branches to the hearth and dumped them on the stones.

“What are you doing?” Lorenzo asked mildly.

“I’m certainly not tidying up after you,” Luigi said quickly. “You can clean up your own mess. I only thought to save myself from carrying in fresh wood for the evening fire.”

“A very practical thought.” Lorenzo lowered his gaze to the branch between his knees as he sliced off another twig. “But I really wouldn’t do that if I were you.”

“Why not?”

“Because, if you strike flint to those branches,” Lorenzo cut off another blossoming twig, “within a very short time we will both be conspicuously dead.”

“You’re trembling.” Lion’s hand tightened on Sanchia’s as they walked up the steps to the cathedral. “There’s no reason to be frightened.” He smiled. “After you’ve braved the plague, marriage to me cannot be so bad.”

“It’s not fear.” Sanchia moistened her lips with her tongue. “I don’t know why I feel so uneasy.”

“Are you not content with this marriage?”

She nodded. “More. I am happy with this marriage. I love you. I will always love you, caro.”

He leaned forward and brushed his lips to her temple. “As I will always love you.” He stopped as they entered the dimness of the cathedral. “Wait here. I will talk to the priest.” He genuflected and moved swiftly down the aisle.

She watched him walk down the marble aisle toward the priest, who had turned away from the altar and was gazing curiously at them.

Lion was all that was strong, forceful, and beloved.

She had never dreamed she would possess a love so powerful and passionate as this.

Why then was she feeling this sudden anxiety at the thought of linking her life to Lion’s?

Perhaps it was because she had read too many stories of noble courtly love and her own love was so very much of the earth and the living.

A ray of sunlight struck the stained-glass windows, and as it passed through, it turned into a rainbow, effulgently bathing Lion and the robed priest. The scent of flowers, incense, and candles drifted to Sanchia, enfolding her in their heady fragrance.

Lion turned away from the priest and held out his hand to her.

She genuflected and started down the aisle, her gaze fixed on Lion’s face.

Then he smiled at her and she was suddenly filled with a sense of wonder and a joy as radiant as the light streaming through the windows.

The radiance swept through her, lifting her up, until she felt as if she was sparkling with the same jewellike brilliance as the light surrounding Lion and the priest.

Dear God, it was so simple. Why hadn’t she understood before what was so clear now?

Love, like life, was composed of plateaus and valleys, of serene silences as well as the clarion peal of trumpets. Pain and turmoil were necessary.… How else would they learn to appreciate moments such as this?

Splendor.