Infinite Devotion (Infinite Series, Book 2) Read online

  Cesare has brought me everywhere with him since I returned. I can’t be sure if he needs my company or is keeping a watchful eye on me. He helps me walk up the spiral stone stairway to the top of the Vatican walls. Don Michelotto is standing there on the balcony, and he gives me a cold steel stare that makes me shiver.

  “My crossbow,” Cesare barks.

  Don Michelotto immediately obeys. Cesare holds up his bow and tests the tension on the bow.

  He calls out, “Release the prisoners!”

  Michelotto leans forward on the stone wall, picking his teeth. Two doors open up in the courtyard below, and a dozen haggard, starved men are herded out on the grounds.

  Cesare screams out, “Run you fools!” and he shoots one in the center of his chest. Before he falls, the other prisoners, grasping the situation, go clamoring and clawing their way back to the doors that the guards are closing. Two loud thuds tell the prisoners there’s no escape, and with Cesare’s terrifying laugh ringing out from above, the prisoners run for any cover they can find. Nevertheless, Cesare’s arrows penetrate the topiaries and hedges they cower under. Two quick prisoners run along the courtyard wall, trying to find an open door or way out. I close my eyes at the horror, and I’m truly terrified by Cesare’s inhumanity. After two guttural screams, I know he must’ve found the last prisoners, and I open my eyes to catch one falling from halfway up the wall.

  He hands the crossbow back to Don Michelotto. “I never seem to tire of this.” He turns to me. “Sister, did you enjoy my little surprise?”

  I don’t respond.

  He laughs, opening his mouth wide. “You need to stop being so sensitive.” His amber eyes are rolling. “You’re either going to be the deer or the wolf. I choose to be the wolf.”

  We walk down to breakfast with Father. I can’t think of eating after what I’ve just witnessed in the courtyard, but Cesare’s already shoving food into his bearded mouth. Father hasn’t even acknowledged my approach since he’s so deep in conversation.

  “Jews are fleeing from Spain in great numbers. They’re flooding Rome, Holy Father,” a cardinal stresses.

  “Let them come.” He shrugs as he tears off a piece of bread.

  “Let them come? We are the center of the Church, and you want it populated with Jews?”

  “I see nothing wrong with harboring the Jews. It’s not my right to persecute them. They will serve Rome well as a great source of revenue.”

  The cardinal pauses. “I’m no longer hungry, Your Holiness.”

  He bows his head and leaves the table.

  Father shrugs and turns to Cesare. “These ideological imbeciles try to pretend the Vatican is not a business.”

  Noticing me, he smiles. “Oh, hello! It’s good to see you up so early. Cesare’s been cheering you up, I see.”

  I give a pretend smile.

  “Well, my spirits are up this morning also. I’ve received a promising response from Alfonso II, the former King of Naples. He’s curious as to what our dowry would be should he give his illegitimate son, Alfonso of Aragon, in marriage to Lucrezia.”

  I grow weary of their talks about potential suitors, but this perks Cesare’s interest.

  “Nephew of the present King of Naples?”

  “Correct, one step closer to marrying Carlotta, Princess of Naples.”

  “We should raise an attractive dowry to entice him,” Cesare says, as his eyes roll back in calculation.

  Father asks, “Do you think we can raise one hundred thousand ducats?”

  “That’s what he’s asking?”

  “I’ll be auctioning off the next cardinal position in a few weeks. That can generate quite a fortune.”

  “We can always have Don Michelotto discreetly free up another cardinal position for bidding.”

  My father’s eyes twinkle with pride at Cesare’s ambition. “I know just the one.” He chuckles to himself while looking where the last cardinal just sat. “I’ll send a messenger to Alfonso II at once with the generous offer.”

  He pats Cesare on the back with a heavy hand.

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  A week later, news circulates that the cardinal who had excused himself from breakfast had suddenly gone into fits and died within minutes while dining in the Vatican. The rumor is it was poison.

  Father notifies me that Alfonso II has accepted their offer, and they’re negotiating the marriage arrangement. The only thing I’m looking forward to is that Sancia is Alfonso’s sister and will be sharing court with me.

  I feel foolish walking down the aisle again, pretending to be a virgin. It’s the exact same ceremony except I have a different dress, gold to pale blue. I wear a fine skirt of silken camel hair with jeweled sleeves. A belt of pearls and rubies adorns my waist, matching a heavy necklace of tiny pearls and embroidered cap with a band of enameled gold on top of my long braid of golden hair.

  Also, sadly, Juan’s not here to make me laugh in his childish way. I see my father standing sternly at the end of the aisle, but Alfonso catches my eye and holds it. He’s the most beautiful man I’ve ever seen. I must have smiled involuntarily at the sight of him. He’s young, tall, and muscularly lean. He has the most dazzling green eyes I’ve ever seen and shining brown hair with copper highlights. His cheekbones are high and he has a small goatee. My heavy heart suddenly lightens.

  When our eyes meet, he glances down, slightly smiling but trying to control a serious face. Once I reach him, we’re told to kneel, and I try to glance up at him whenever I get occasion to. My heart is racing. He picks up my left hand and pauses as he sees the mole I’ve had since birth. He bends down and softly kisses it, causing goose bumps to flash across my body.

  Can I be so lucky?

  Alfonso’s dressed regally in black brocade lined with crimson velvet with a black velvet cap. Before the wedding, I’ve had my father’s goldsmith create a brooch with something fitting for a wedding. My ladies delivered it to him to wear on his cap before the wedding, and I wasn’t even interested enough to look at it. I study it now and see two joined circles flashing proudly over his dark brow.

  After our vows, I hold on to Alfonso’s strong arm as he brings me to the reception. Father claps for everyone’s attention and makes a toast.

  “May my daughter be cherished and adored by her worthy husband as much as I adore her. May you find riches in both gold and in love.” Everyone raises their glasses and drinks. “Now let’s have the young couple dance for us before we dine.”

  Alfonso sweeps me out onto the ballroom floor, and we perform the bassa dance. I feel for the first time that no one’s watching me. The only person who seems important is holding me in his arms. Time flashes by; the night’s a blur of clinking glasses, music, and laughter. I’m free and flying for the first time in my life. The forgotten sense of hope results in a perpetual smile, and I’m lit up from within.

  Father gives another toast at sundown. “It’s the twenty-fourth hour, and it’s time to say good-bye to our newlyweds. Our night will go on drearily while they partake in virgin glory. Good luck to you, my new son!”

  The drunks laugh heartily at this, but even his vulgarity can’t penetrate the happiness I feel.

  Alfonso escorts me up to our suite, and we walk out on the balcony together overlooking the same courtyard Cesare’s tainted for me, but nothing can be ugly next to his beauty. The sun’s red and low in the sky, basking us in a vibrant glow. He smiles at me, and I see a slight space between his front teeth that warms my heart.

  He leans into me and asks, “How can it be that I’ve only known you for a day?” He picks up my long braid and brings it close to his mouth. “When I look in your eyes, I do not see a stranger.”

  I search his eyes, eyes that have known me much longer, and he bends down to kiss me, satisfying the waiting of what feels like a hundred years for such a kiss.

  Chapter 8

  Even with Perotto’s passionate meetings, I’d always felt an emptiness inside that Alfonso seem
s to spill into and warm. One look, one touch, one laugh is enough to brighten any day, and every day with him is plain and wonderful. When we leave to Aragon, I don’t even cry. He’s all I want, and wherever he’ll go, I’ll follow. Sancia also becomes another great happiness to me. Whenever Alfonso’s off hunting or traveling, she stays with me, and we stroll among the gardens and practice our courtly dances.

  “Lucrezia, Cesare’s messenger came yesterday while you and Alfonso were, how shall I say, indisposed.”

  I throw my cap at her.

  “Isn’t that when you were occupying Jofre?”

  She snorts and glares over at Jofre climbing a tree on the far ground. “He’s too busy occupied with his toys. So sad, really.”

  I feel badly for her being with such a child.

  “Here is the letter. Read me the words of his magnificence.” She rolls her eyes.

  Your Beatitude,

  It has been a month since your wedding, and neither Father nor I have heard from you. It is not like you to forget your family in such a way, and I may have to make a visit out to check on you if I don’t get word within days. You seemed quite pleased with our choice of Alfonso for you, so much so you forgot to dance with me. However, I’ll forgive you, sister, if you promise to write and visit us soon. No female pleases me in the way that you do, and I hope Alfonso’s dashing looks do not keep you so entertained that you forget your brother.

  Give Sancia a kiss for me.

  Duke of Gandia

  “Duke of Gandia! He writes that as if he didn’t steal it!” Sancia grabs the letter out of my hand, tears it into a hundred pieces, and throws them up in the air, spinning around under the paper snow.

  When she sits back down, she says, “Nothing pleased me more than watching Cesare watch you and Alfonso dance. The look of jealousy in his eyes, his pure contempt of your unexpected happiness, oh, it was a fine night! I think it was the first time Cesare didn’t dance with anyone!”

  “I didn’t even notice what Cesare was doing. I was too busy staring at Alfonso.”

  “That’s what angered Cesare the most. He wasn’t the most amazing man in the room. Alfonso’s light had outshone his, and he thought he had won that in ridding the world of my beautiful Juan.”

  She glances down at the grass she’s splitting and then looks up. “How could you ever forgive him for that?”

  I know she won’t listen, but I try anyway. “My father investigated his death, and all leads pointed to the Orsini.”

  “Deep in my heart, I know it was Cesare, not only for the dukedom, but because I’d favored him.”

  “I know exactly why you loved him so.” I try to soften her.

  “Do you know there’s a rumor that Juan had received a letter sent from me before he went to the country, telling him to meet me alone in Rome and to not tell Cesare?”

  I straighten up with this news. “Did you send such a letter?”

  “Of course not, and only a handful of people even knew of our meetings.”

  “Who did you hear that rumor from?”

  “One of Juan’s groomsmen was there when the messenger arrived.”

  “Why did he not tell my father?”

  “He did, and your father said the matter was closed.” Her eyes bat as if she’s trying to keep them from rolling.

  I lay back and stare up at the sky. I don’t like to imagine it is possible.

  Her playfulness returns as soon as she sees my despair. “You better write him back right away. We don’t want a visit.” She laughs.

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  A month later, I’m running through the fields with Alfonso. Sancia shouts behind me, “You shouldn’t be running in your condition!”

  “I’m fine!” I yell back.

  Alfonso’s playfully tagging me and then running away. He’s too fast for me to catch, so I give up and walk to the top of the vineyard. The light’s glistening off the grapes, and the air smells sweet from the rotting grapes under the vines. Alfonso comes, gives me a tight hug, and then rolls all the way down the vineyard hill. I stand above with Sancia, laughing when Alfonso hits a tree at the bottom of the hill.

  I carelessly start to run after him and begin picking up speed. Sancia runs behind me, telling me to slow down. My ankle turns on the uneven ground, and I know before I hit the ground that I’ve made a terrible mistake. Sancia’s so close behind me that she careens into me on the ground. I feel the pain immediately, and Alfonso’s to me in seconds. His face is white with fear. He picks me up and carries me all the way back into the palace to my bed. I bleed for days, and the doctor informs us that I lost the baby girl. Alfonso and Sancia stay with me for three days and keep my spirits high.

  I’m pregnant again by the next month. Alfonso and Sancia are dancing after dinner one night as I look on, laughing every time Alfonso steps on Sancia’s foot, when we hear trumpeting and drumming coming up the drive to the palace.

  Alfonso’s eyes dart to me. “Are we expecting an envoy?”

  I shake my head curiously, and Sancia deduces, “Only one person I know would come unannounced with trumpet accompaniment.”

  She’s right. As we stand on the balcony above the drawbridge, I see Cesare leading the procession gallantly on his black horse adorned and shod in silver. Four horsemen on his sides hold a large canopy of gold and scarlet above his head. The whole envoy’s sparkling in silver, and I’ve never seen such fine horses.

  Sancia turns to Alfonso rigidly. “Are you going to entertain Cesare’s envoy?”

  Alfonso watches at me and says, “Lucrezia’s brother is welcome here as long as Lucrezia wills it.”

  “I’ve suddenly come down with something. I won’t be joining you all tonight.” She walks off the balcony.

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  “Sister, you look as heavenly as ever.” Cesare comes to kiss me in our dimly lit entrance hall, and I see as he draws near that he has horrible pits and scarring all over his once handsome face.

  I put my arms up involuntarily, and he draws back, but he says rather flippantly, “It’s only the French disease. I’m in its second stage, and this is what it does.”

  Besides the scarring, he seems to have changed. Usually wearing the brightest colors in the room to be seen, he’s now all in black. He sits down at our grand banquet table, and Alfonso and I slowly settle beside him. The servants are rushing to light the candles and torches in the room and to accommodate the unexpected guests. The room slowly lights into a brilliant glow.

  “You’re now the handsomest in the room,” he says to Alfonso. “So this is the little palace that has so captured the attention of my sister that she forgets to write and visit her family.” He leans back in his chair and peers around the room. “Lucrezia, you take motherhood in stride so well, it’s as if you’ve done this before,” Cesare threatens.

  He knows I never told Alfonso about Giovanni Borgia.

  After an uncomfortable pause, I take a deep breath and begin, “Brother, what brings you here so unexpectedly?”

  He smiles. “Well, I know how much you love my surprises.” He then sits back up. “Where’s Sancia? Her seat lies empty,” he says in a sarcastic way.

  “She’s feeling poorly,” Alfonso replies.

  “Oooh, poor dear, you’ll have to tell her I missed her company.”

  We are served our first course.

  Cesare puts his spoon down beside his soup. “I’m actually on my way to France to marry the beautiful cousin of the French king, Charlotte d’Albret.” This news catches us off guard, and Cesare continues, “Well, after two years of pursuing your frigid cousin Carlotta, Naples has fallen out of favor with the Borgias.”

  I start getting worried, and Alfonso stiffens at this new turn of events.

  “Oh, you hadn’t heard? I see, well, yes, France has now become our greatest ally and has happily promised his cousin to me as a sign of good will to come.”

  I know this means that my marriage has been
to no advantage, and now Alfonso’s an enemy instead of a benefit. I can tell the fear Cesare sees on our faces only provokes him to continue.

  “Alfonso, do you know that the French king has asked if the Borgias had any beautiful maids to marry? He’s been asking Father eagerly for a potential suitor for one of his cousins.”

  Sancia walks in at this moment and must have been listening at the door. Cesare looks up, and his eyes flash at her appearance.

  “A miraculous recovery!” He gets up to kiss her cheek.

  “Yet, you’re still not recovered yourself,” she spits as she pulls away from him. “I didn’t even recognize you, you’ve changed so.”

  They both sit, glaring at each other.

  “I’ve come here to warn you about the growing hostilities between Naples and France.” He directs his gaze at me. “And my dear sister appears to be caught in the middle.”

  Alfonso stands up. “I think I’ve lost my appetite now too. Lucrezia, you’ll have to excuse me.”

  Cesare turns to Sancia. “You seem to be contagious.”

  I kiss him and give him an apologetic look. He smiles sweetly and walks out of the room. Cesare watches with disdain.

  “How manly of him, leaving you to discuss with me alone.”

  Sancia speaks. “She’s not alone and will never be, as long as Alfonso and I am breathing.”

  “Well, that is all it will take, then?” He gives a scary smile.

  I stand up, wishing I’d left when Alfonso did, and say, “Sancia, I think Cesare wants to be alone now. Will you follow me up to attend to Alfonso?”

  Sancia says, “Yes, I think Cesare should get used to being alone.”

  Cesare laughs heartily and stands to kiss me. “I’ll be leaving shortly. I don’t trust closing my eyes in Naples.”

  I give him a cold kiss back. “Be careful, brother.” More as a warning instead of a wish.

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