Summary
In Renaissance Naples Archbishop Edward Cullen finds himself entranced with convent girl Bella
Swan. In a world where right and wrong mean nothing when you come from power is he willing to
give up everything he believes for someone he shouldn't want?
Book 1.
Chapter 1.
It was the time honored profession of a third son, Edward thought to himself, cursing as he stared
up at the frescos on the nave in front of him. He had no reason to complain about his life, he had
been blessed. I have been blessed, he reminded himself, gritting his teeth as the words flowed
through his brain, his fists clenching together as he stared at the nave.
“Father Edward?” A booming voice called out and he turned to look at the man dressed in the livery
of his father’s house. Edward was the third son of a minor lord and courtier to the house of
Farnese. His brother Emmett and his wife Rosalie would lead lives of privilege in his father’s
household and would take their place in the house of the Farnese and at Forks Castle. His brother
Jasper was a Major in the Papal Army, keeping the peace and protecting not only the Holy See but
also its ally, the Florentine Republic. He was full of life and happy with the world. Yes, Edward
smiled to himself as he thought about the number of children he’d baptized secretly for the family’s
maid, Alice, Jasper is definitely full of life.
The only one who was unhappy and unfulfilled was Edward, who once again, as he rose from his
knees and made his way toward the man waiting for him, reminded himself that he was blessed.
He could be one of the peasants working in the mills, or in the shipyards, scavenging for bread to
take home to a wife and a house full of screaming brats. He could be kissing her sweaty brow and
patting her round hip, thinking about all the things they would never have. Edward shook his head
to clear his thoughts of things that could never be.
Edward was a third son and therefore he had become a priest. Because his father was a courtier to
the Farnese, he had risen far in the few short years since he had taken his vows. His father’s
patron had influence and before he’d reached the age of 17 he’d been a bishop and now at 20 he
was an Archbishop. His godfather, now Pope Paul III, had promised him a place in the College of
Cardinals for his 21st birthday but Edward had declined. The debauchery of Rome and its ruling
class was something he tended to avoid.
“We’re to go to the Villa Presara?” The driver asked him.
“No,” Edward shook his head quickly and then turned to one of the young men in his care whom
was sweeping the vestibule of the basilica. “Find Brother Fillippe if you please. Tell him I’m ready to
leave for Santa Maria.”
“Santa Maria?” The driver repeated. “The conservatorio?”
“Yes,” Edward nodded curtly. “You’ll need to leave us outside the gates and wait for us there. The
Mother Superior is very strict about who is allowed to set foot inside the convent grounds and that
means no men besides those of the Holy Orders.”
“Of course Your Grace,” the driver lowered his head. “I wouldn’t dream of it Your Grace. I had only
asked because I can’t understand what would take you to the Convent of Santa Maria.”
“They fall under my diocese,” Edward answered abruptly and began to look around impatiently for
Brother Fillippe. “It’s easier to take two priests because then we’re not overwhelmed with work and
there are no problems in taking each confession each week.”
Not to mention the numerous problems there had been in the past when only one priest had
attended to confessions, Edward thought to himself bitterly. The church had been a laughing stock
when he’d taken over the Basilica of Santa Maria and as Archbishop in charge of the conservatorio.
One political satire had even referred to the convent as the diocese’s ‘nursery’ and claimed the only
thing that outnumbered the debauched nuns and housemaids of Santa Maria were the wet nurses
needed to staff the place due to the priests’ roaming hands. There had even been crude drawing of
the ‘newest Neapolitan cassocks’ and Edward grimaced as he remembered which pieces in the front
had been so thoughtfully left as mere holes by the ingenious cartoonist.
“I have no problems Your Grace,” a thick, Calabrian accent announced behind him and Edward
turned to glare. Brother Fillippe was boisterous and full of life, always pleasant, but no matter how
long he’d been in Naples it was still possible to see the Calabrian peasant stock he’d come from
shining through. “I am a man of God but unlike you my young, Archbishop friend,” Brother Fillippe
slung a heavily muscled arm over Edward’s shoulder, “I realize that I am a man first.”
“Meanwhile,” Edward retorted as the two priests followed the servant toward the carriage, “I am a
man who takes my vows seriously.”
“Yes,” Fillippe agreed. “The poverty of our humble basilica is a sight to behold. We are truly blessed
with mud waddle for our tiny hut of a church in the wilderness. The only thing more humble is the
Holy Prince’s hovel in Rome.”
“You know the decision that was made on that,” Edward snapped. “People need to see the glory of
the Church and reflect upon its truth through the beauty of their surroundings. The decision was
made before our grandfathers were even born. It doesn’t mean we have to enjoy it.”
“And you’re saying your godfather doesn’t?”
“No,” Edward slumped in his seat. “He does and I confess the comforts of my apartments are nice
after a long day. It’s much better than the cells some of the monks choose to stay in.”
“So,” Fillippe pressed, “what’s the difference in having a little comfort from your apartments and a
little comfort from a warm woman, hmm? You’re still breaking your vows.”
“I know,” Edward mumbled, “and I feel shame for it.”
“For all your musical talent Edward, you’re not a cantorretto, it’s all still intact my friend. Feel
shame for being nestled between a set of soft thighs instead of alone in a cold feather bed.”
“I cannot,” Edward insisted as they passed outside of the Spanish barricades of Naples and into the
rolling Florentine countryside toward Santa Maria. “I’ll not damn a woman to that half life. I
couldn’t bear to make anyone live with that shame.”
“You’re too noble for your own good my friend,” Fillippe announced before lapsing into silence.
“You’ll just make yourself unhappy with it.”
Edward stared out the carriage window at the passing countryside and reflected on the life chosen
for him. He didn’t want to be Emmett. The thought of being a lord and courtier sickened him and
he couldn’t imagine being married to the shrew that was the Lady Rosalie of Hale. It was a political
marriage and though it had suited both of them well, Edward had been surprised. Then there was
Jasper’s life the life of a soldier held no appeal for him, nor did the constant secrecy he was
forced to keep regarding his infatuation with poor Alice.
Alice, Edward thought to himself, she was the deciding factor for why he chose to live alone and
stick to his priestly vows. He wouldn’t force another woman to live with the shame that she did. He
wouldn’t ask a woman to skulk in the pantry, covering a swollen belly with her skirts, as the others
looked at her and clucked their tongues in derision. He wouldn’t ask any woman to give birth on a
floor in the stables because, as the staff, she wasn’t allowed a proper lying in.
He’d baptized all of her children in secret, even the two that had been born twisted and deformed,
dead before they ever arrived. A hasty word and a splash of holy water over their naked, newly
born bodies, was all he was able to do before the house maids scurried Alice and her newest
offspring out the side door of the family chapel. After each time, he would wipe his hands, say a
quick prayer for their souls and Alice’s, and then he’d seek out his older brother for yet another
talk on the merits of chastity outside of marriage and why he shouldn’t impregnate the staff.
The carriage pulled to a halt, breaking Edward from his melancholic thoughts. He wouldn’t trade
lives with either of his brothers but he wouldn’t have chosen this for himself either. Perhaps he’d
have been better off as a cantoretto, locked away in one of the conservatorios to sing and compose
music. No one cared about what the deformed and emasculated castrati did in their beds and
while the idea of that definitive, physical act made him squeamish he would have had his music
and at least some notion of the warmth Fillippe always encouraged him to find.
When the door to the carriage opened he stepped out and discreetly patted the front of his robe. It
was ridiculous, he knew, but somehow he felt better knowing that his balls were still in place
even if they only received his own personal attention.
“So young Edward,” Fillippe snickered as they stepped through the gates of the Convent of Santa
Maria. “Let’s go relieve the burdens from these poor young ladies’ minds.”
“Brother Fillippe,” Edward tried to sound as stern and authoritative as his position required. “You
are to hear the confessions of their sins, not help them in the commission of new ones. Your duties
will be more successfully performed if you allow your cassock to remain on!”
“It always does,” the other man laughed just before they stepped into the church, and then he
winked at Edward. “It always does.”
“Your Grace,” a portly older woman waddled forward, her habit dragging behind her on the ground.
“I didn’t know we were expecting you today!”
“It’s always a pleasure to be here Mother Superior Catherine,” Edward bowed his head slightly.
“Often my other duties keep me away.”
“Well,” she nodded perfunctorily. “It was a shame that we didn’t know sooner. We could have
provided a concert of some type for your enjoyment. Some of our girls have become quite
talented. As it is, we haven’t even thought to prepare a lunch.”
“Never mind,” Edward smiled at her. “We’re joining my family at the Villa Presara after confessions
and I’ll eat then. My mother is quite particular to see me at her table at least occasionally.”
“You’re a good son, Archbishop, and a wonderful man.” Turning she looked at Fillippe in disgust,
“unlike some.”
“Mother,” Fillippe smiled impishly at her in return.
“Brother Fillippe,” her tone was flat and annoyed.
“Yes,” Edward coughed. “Well, I guess it’s time to begin.”
With a curt nod, the Mother Superior led first Fillippe and then Edward to their respective
confessionals and began to sort the young ladies of the convent into two groups. Edward closed his
eyes and emptied his mind. The next two hours would be an exercise in mindless boredom. They
were young girls trapped in a convent, how much sin could they find occasion to do?
“Bless me Father for I have sinned,” the first penitent whispered meekly. “It has been one week
since my last confession.”
Of course it has, Edward wanted to mutter. You’re only given confession once a week and you’re
not allowed to refuse to go no matter whether you’d done anything or not. Just get on with it!
“Father, I don’t know if I should confess this,” the girl mumbled again.
“I cannot absolve you unless you confess,” Edward muttered as he wondered what she could have
done. Stolen an extra piece of bread? Missed a stitch in her needlework?
“Father, I’m so ashamed. I’ve,” the girl stuttered. “I’ve been entertaining Sister Elizabeth in her
private chambers.”
“Its fine that you’ve taken a friend and mentor here,” Edward consoled. “There’s no sin in that.”
“Father,” the young woman gasped.
“Yes?”
“Um,” she fell silent again and suddenly Edward realized exactly what she was suggesting.
“Oh! Um, well, huh,” Edward stopped. Apparently there were things they could do. He tried to fight
the image of Sister Elizabeth, one of the younger novices, and one of the students together but
failed. He shifted uncomfortably and was silently thankful that his cassock could hide a bounty of
his own sins.
“Father?”
“Well,” Edward managed to stutter. “That’s very wrong. You should say a century and an act of
contrition as penance and then you must never be alone with Sister Elizabeth again. Do you
understand?”
“Yes, Father.”
He shook his head again and tried to keep the indecent images in his brain away as he responded
mechanically to the next several students. “Bless me Father for I have sinned.” The sweet voice
pulled him from his reverie and he remembered to try and focus. “It has been six weeks since my
last confession.”
That caught Edward’s attention. “Six weeks? How have you missed six weeks of confession? My
child,” he suddenly remembered to tack on at the end.
“I’ve been too busy scrubbing the floors,” the voice muttered darkly. “It takes all day to start at
the top corner of the convent and work all the way down to the basement when you’ve only got a
small scrub brush.”
“You’re cleaning all the convent floors? Why?”
“Punishment,” she sounded ashamed now.
“My child what have you been doing that you’ve had to wash the floors once a week for six
weeks?”
“Not once a week, every day,” she corrected. “But it’s always something different Father. I simply
don’t belong here.”
“That’s not true,” Edward found himself trying to comfort the anonymous girl. “Surely you have a
place here.”
“No,” she muttered darkly. “Just ask the Mother Superior, she’s threatened to send me to the work
house or to work along the docks.”
Edward raised his eyebrows at that thought. Anyone who lived in Naples could tell you that the
docks were no place for a convent girl. The only profession she’d have if she were sent there would
not be fit for a lady. Nuns, meanwhile, were not supposed to be so uncharitable. He would need to
have a long talk with the Mother about what sort of school she was running.
“What have you done to have caused this mess?”
“It always changes Father,” the voice took on a pleading tone. “It’s not like I do things on purpose,
but Father, I’m clumsy. I can’t help that I trip, fall down, and occasionally break things. I try not to
Father. Really, really I do, but it just happens sometimes.”
“We all make mistakes,” Edward tried to console.
“That’s not the worst part,” the young woman on the other side of the screen confessed and he
looked up to find himself lost in a pair of large, dark eyes.
“What’s the worst part?”
“Father,” he could see the tears pouring down her face. “I can’t sing.”
“You can’t sing?” He repeated. Why had they placed her in a conservatorio if she couldn’t sing?
“Not at all,” she replied. “My placement here was somehow a mistake, or a very cruel joke.”
“How long have you been here?”
“All my life.”
Why hadn’t Edward seen her before? Heard her sweet voice? Smelled the fresh strawberries that
wafted out of her clothes?
“Let me reflect on it,” he found himself muttering. “I’m certain that there is something to be done
about this situation. Let me think about it and I’ll return next week with a solution.”
“Thank you Father,” the girl looked at him hopefully and his heart began to pound.
“There’s no thanks needed,” he managed to mumble. “But I will need to know your name.”
“It’s Bella, Father. Isabella Swan.”
“Well, Isabella Swan,” he managed to croak. “I’ll give your situation careful thought. Now go in
peace my child.”
He heard the door creak open and then close. He waited a few minutes with his eyes closed and
then realized that she must have been the last of the penitents. What was he supposed to do now?
The sound of her voice had captivated him and he’d found himself agreeing to help a girl he didn’t
know. Plus, he couldn’t stop thinking about her voice. Standing up slowly he shifted again. His
cassock covered his shame but it didn’t change the fact that he was rock hard over a girl who he’d
never even seen and had somehow found herself in the one place that neither of them belonged. It
was going to be a very long afternoon.
Chapter 2.
Stumbling out of the church of Santa Maria, Edward began to search for his missing companion.
They were supposed to stay together, he thought peevishly. That was the entire reason that two
priests always visited the convent together. They weren’t supposed to separate. He glanced around
the bleak lower rooms of the convent and couldn’t find Fillippe. Surely he couldn’t have snuck
upstairs with one of the students? No, he shook his head, Mother Superior Catherine was too strict
for something like that to happen. Or at least that was what he had thought before today’s
confession.
Edward stomped to the kitchen and wondered if Fillippe had managed to sweet talk his way into a
small treat from the kitchen girls, a small lunch or a bit of pastry perhaps. Edward’s stomach
grumbled then, he’d missed breakfast this morning and he was famished. If Fillippe had just stayed
in the sanctuary like he was supposed to then they’d be in the carriage now and on their way to
the Villa Presara for lunch and he wouldn’t be roaming the grounds of a convent school with aching
balls and a growling stomach. Fillippe. Wasn’t. There.
Edward swore silently to himself as he stormed toward the gardens. Fillippe was constantly
carrying on about the herb gardens at Santa Maria and complaining about how uncharitable Mother
Superior Catherine was to not allow him some cuttings for his own garden in the basilica. Perhaps
Fillippe was there, attempting to intimidate the gardeners into letting him have some samples? His
stomach rumbled loudly again and he glanced down in anger. “Not now,” he snapped to his own
stomach and tried not to feel foolish. He’d be a gibbering idiot if they didn’t get out of here soon
and go to his parent’s quarters so he could get something to eat and forget the girl with the doe
eyes who’d pleaded for his help.
Turning the corner from the kitchen yard and into the formal gardens he spied Fillippe leaning with
his face toward one of the walls at the back of the garden. Edward walked toward him along the
narrow, gravel paths and hoped that his friend wasn’t taking a piss on the Mother Superior’s rose
bushes. Fillippe wasn’t usually uncouth but he did have an ‘earthier’ side to him that often made
Edward uncomfortable.
The Farnese believed in the utmost of refinement in their homes and in the behaviors of those who
surrounded them. Even when the men would hunt they would take servants and chamber pots
along with them in their baggage train. Life among them had caused Edward to become fastidious
in his own personal habits and the differences that arose between him and some of the other
brethren often scandalized him. Fillippe would just laugh and tease him about his effeminate
manners before changing the subject and ignoring whatever point Edward had been trying to
make.
Dear Lord, Edward prayed silently. Please don’t let him be pissing on the Mother Superior’s rose
bushes. I will never hear the end of her nagging if I have to go to her about Sapphic novices,
clumsy but endearing students, and she’s caught Fillippe irrigating her roses in an unseemly way.
Please, just for once, make my life easy and don’t let him be doing what I think he’s doing.
Suddenly, Edward froze. Oh Lord, he amended as he caught sight of the hem of a white muslin
skirt in front of Fillippe and black slippers peeking out from near the wall. Why couldn’t you have
just let him piss on the rose bushes?
“Brother Fillippe!” Edward tried to make his tone sound more angry than embarrassed at what he
was seeing.
“Huh?” The other priest turned around to stare at him blankly and then gestured downwards. “Five
minutes?”
“No!” Edward announced loudly and tried not to look as one of the kitchen maids looked around
Fillippe’s hip at him.
“Archbishop,” she mumbled and he closed his eyes when he saw her cheeks flare red. It was better
if he just pretended she was embarrassed at the position she was caught in and he couldn’t see the
way her eyes were dancing merrily instead.
“My child,” he managed to grind out between clenched teeth. “Perhaps it’s time you return to your
work?”
“Yes Archbishop,” he heard a rustle and then a muffled smack, he assumed it came from Fillippe
smacking her on the ass, before he heard her footsteps scurry quickly away.
“You can be a real bastard when you wish to be my young, sexually repressed and cranky friend,”
Fillippe announced.
“What did I say about cassocks?”
“They’re hideous and do nothing to show of my manly attributes to their best advantage?” Fillippe
huffed and Edward opened his eyes to see the other man pouting.
“No,” he shook his head and then pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration. “I told you that your
cassock was to remain on.”
“It is on,” Fillippe countered as he put an arm over Edward’s shoulder and began to walk with him
towards the front gates and the carriage awaiting them. “At no point did my cassock come off. I
just raised the front a little.”
“You are impossible,” Edward announced as they stepped into the carriage and the driver slammed
the door behind them. “I think you may be one of the worst priests that I know.”
“Really?” Fillippe looked at him curiously. “Well, you haven’t been a priest very long and you’ve
never been one to spend your time in Rome.”
Edward simply shook his head. He knew the other man was right, the licentiousness of Rome made
Fillippe’s indiscretions seem mild in comparison. Still, how hard was it to behave like he was
supposed to? Or at least commit his lapses in good judgment somewhere discreet?
“You’re impossible,” he muttered and let his head rest against the back of the seat.
“I’m impossible?” Fillippe laughed. “That’s a little hypocritical don’t you think? Considering your
newest posting?”
“My newest posting?” Edward repeated. “I’ve not been given a change of diocese. His Holiness
knows I have no intention of accepting an invitation into the College. I’m not prepared enough to
take a substantial role and the politics of Rome simple annoy me.”
“Don’t act dense,” Fillippe laughed. “It’s just good to know that I have no need to worry about you
and your comforts. Although, I must say that you’ve been a master of discretion. It must come
from living all your life in such close quarters to the Farnese. As overly restrained as they are a
good fart will send them into the vapors much less the sound of a loud fuck behind closed doors.”
Edward lifted his head from the back of the seat and glared at the other man. “What exactly are
you prattling about?”
“The Lady Denali,” Fillippe chuckled, “formerly the Marchioness of Este and soon to be the
Countess of Volterra.”
“The Lady Tanya Denali?” Edward shuddered at the thought of her. She’d been a constant presence
in his childhood and rarely had their time together been pleasant. She was jealous, bad tempered
and self centered. Edward had loathed her from the summer they were 11 and she’d cut his
harpsichord wires because she felt as if he wasn’t paying her the proper amount of attention.
“She’s barely been widowed three months!”
“Should I ask how long it took for you to provide consolation?” Fillippe chuckled at him lewdly.
“What?! I’ve never even been alone with the Lady Denali. Not even when we were children! Much
less,” Edward stuttered at what Fillippe was implying. “Much less have I been ‘consoling’ her!”
“You are serious, aren’t you?” Fillippe looked at him in sheer disbelief.
“Of course I’m serious! What makes you think I’ve had any sort of liaison with the Lady Denali? If I
were going to break my vows don’t you think I’d go to someone I wasn’t afraid would castrate me
if given the chance?”
Fillippe raised his eyebrows and just stared at Edward. “Well, this should be interesting.”
“What will be interesting?”
“She’s requested that you take the role of confessor to her new household. Her long term confessor
and ‘confidant’ died of the same ague that killed the Marquis of Este and she feels as though she’ll
need counsel while in Volterra.”
“Surely they can send someone else?” Edward tried to keep the panic from his voice.
“Not according to Bernadette,” Fillippe grimaced. “She seemed quite certain that the Lady Denali
would take no substitutions. She heard it from the Lady’s personal maid when she went to the
Mother Superior to inquire into the employ of several chaste, young, ladies in waiting.
“Bernadette the ” Edward made a vague motion toward his lap.
“The very same.”
“Shit,” he muttered angrily. If the kitchen maids had heard that his orders were nonnegotiable then
it was as good as a papal bull of the same regard. He’d learned over the years that the servants
always knew everything first and he’d come to never doubt their gossip.
“Wait! Did you say ladies in waiting?”
“She wants several,” Fillippe confirmed. “I gather she’s hoping that by appearing with virtuous
girls, concerned about their welfare even, some of the shine will rub off on her as well.”
“Appearing virtuous by keeping company with convent girls?”
“That would be the case,” Fillippe agreed.
“It might have worked,” Edward snickered, “two husbands and half dozen satires about her affairs
ago.”
“She’s certainly a lusty one,” Fillippe chuckled. “Although, it appears as if the lady’s reputation
didn’t deter Count Marcus of Volterra.”
“Count Marcus is 64 with gout and rheumy eyes,” Edward retorted as he shook his head. “I doubt
he’d notice if she danced naked in front of his entire court during midmorning vespers.”
“Hmm,” Edward looked up to meet twinkling brown eyes gazing back at him.
“Stop imagining it!” Suddenly a horrible thought struck him. “Oh Lord preserve me!”
“What?”
“If I’m her confessor she’ll want me to officiate the wedding. Besides, Count Marcus doesn’t
currently have a priest in residence at Volterra Castle. Father Guisseppe died last year of plague.”
“You’ll have to attend the consummation?”
“I’ll have to attend the consummation,” Edward groaned. “I’m not sure what’s worse the sight of
the Lady Tanya Denali on her wedding night or of Count Marcus.”
“Um,” Fillippe grinned at him conspiratorially. “You know my friend there are times that I’m jealous
of you.”
“Jealous?”
“You were born handsome, wealthy, privileged, and well connected. If you play your cards right
one day I’ll be kissing your foot and referring to you as the Holy Prince himself. But today,” Fillippe
chuckled. “Today, I am glad to be the son of a Calabrian goat herder and not that of a noble Lord. I
may never rise far in the ranks of the church but in return I shall never have to envision Sir
Marcus’s backside as he consummates his wedding.”
“Please don’t make me think about it,” Edward groaned pitifully. There had to be some way out of
this. Some bargain he could strike to remain in Naples instead of traveling to Volterra with that
woman.
Bargain he froze as the word replayed in his mind. He could strike a bargain. Bella Swan didn’t
belong in the Convent of Santa Maria and Lady Denali needed virtuous young women to attend her.
It was the perfect solution and something he could easily bargain for. He would become the Lady
Tanya’s confessor only if she provided space in her retinue for Bella Swan. Surely they wouldn’t
deny him such a menial request?
Chapter 3.
“Well,” Mother Superior Catherine sneered as Bella carefully placed the tray in front of her. “I’d like
to know how you’ve managed so well for yourself.”
Bella remained silent and poured the Mother Superior a goblet of wine. She wasn’t sure what she
had done to earn the harsh tone in the nun’s voice or the venomous look on her face but she had
never been sure what she had done in the past either. A part of her suspected that all of the
Mother’s dislike for her simply came from the fact that when Bella was born, Mother Superior
Catherine’s predecessor had made a bad judgment call.
‘A bad judgment call,’ Bella thought to herself. ‘That would certainly be one way of phrasing it.’ She
instead preferred to look at it as a giant, cosmic joke being played against her. The bastard child of
a courtesan known for her singing and her grace and a noble lord, Bella was endowed with neither
skill. She could not sing, nor could she play, and her balance was so poor that some of the Sisters
had commented in surprise when she’d actually managed to survive childhood.
“Are you going to answer me?” Mother Superior Catherine spat out as she reached around the
goblet and grasped Bella’s wrist. “How did you manage for yourself? If it were that pervert Brother
Fillippe I could see how you managed, but I’ve known the Archbishop since he was an infant on his
wet nurse’s tit. He takes his vows seriously and keeps his hands off the convent girls.”
“I have no idea what you’re referring to,” Bella answered the red faced woman honestly. “Nor do I
know whom you’re talking about. I’ve never met the Archbishop Mother; the only men I am ever
allowed to come into contact with are the priests who come to hear our confession, and then only
when I’m given permission to go.”
“That must have been when you met him my graceless Swan,” Mother Superior Catherine snapped,
“Confession! Whatever did you say to him?”
“Mother Superior,” Bella felt her back stiffen. “It wouldn’t be appropriate for me to tell you that.
Whatever the Holy Father and I may have discussed, it was meant for the sanctity of the
confessional and I wouldn’t dare utter it outside that seal.”
Bella watched as the Mother Superior’s red face became a darker shade of crimson and then
flinched as she saw the full goblet of wine thrown into the wall directly behind her. “Get. Out.”
“As you wish Mother,” Bella did her best to bob a proper curtsey and backed out of the Mother
Superior’s lavish private chambers. She should have known not to anger the woman it really did
her no good and would only result in worse punishments than she previously suffered.
Bella looked at her red, raw fingers in dismay. ‘I guess I’ll be scrubbing the floors until I die now.’
She muttered to herself.
“Bella!” She turned when she heard Angela call out to her from the garden. Glancing around swiftly
to make sure she was unobserved she scurried out to meet her only friend. “Is it true?”
“Is what true Angela?” Bella looked up at the tall, willowy brunette next to her and tried to stand
up straighter. It wasn’t the fashion to be as tall as Angela was, but the other girl always made her
stature seem graceful and a warmth radiated from her that made everyone around her feel loved.
“You’ve been chosen to go to Volterra with us?” Angela bounced slightly and Bella could see the
happiness in her eyes.
“I don’t,” Bella looked at her best friend. “I don’t know Angela. Who is going to Volterra and why?”
“We’re going to Volterra you silly goose!” Angela laughed excitedly. “Six of us have been chosen to
go and attend the Lady Tanya when she becomes the Countess of Volterra.”
“You’re leaving?” Bella felt her spirits sink. Angela was her best friend and Bella didn’t know how
she would bear life without the loyal friendship of the contralto beside her.
“Not me! Us!” Angela repeated as she put her arm through Bella’s and began to tug her around the
garden.
“Us?”
“Didn’t the Mother Superior tell you?” Angela cocked her eyebrow. “I was certain she would have. I
thought it was all just that horrible Jessica spreading rumors, and most of it probably is, but then I
saw the novices packing your belongings along with mine and I knew at least that part was true.”
“They’re packing my bags?” Bella repeated slowly. “Wait! What rumors?”
“You haven’t heard?” Angela looked at her skeptically. “That’s right you didn’t attend any of the
lectures or practices yesterday.”
“No,” Bella shook her head, “I didn’t. Mother Superior had me digging in the root garden with the
kitchen staff.”
Angela slipped her hand out from Bella’s elbow and leaned over to squeeze her. “It’s not right how
she treats you. She’s supposed to be charitable to those who are less fortunate.”
“She doesn’t see me as less fortunate,” Bella grumbled. “She sees me as a poor investment.”
“We are not investments,” Angela stamped her foot daintily. “No one should treat us like this.
There can be no more unfortunate souls than us.”
“How have you come to that conclusion?” Bella rolled her eyes.
“We’re children without families,” Angela answered. “There is only one thing more unfortunate than
being an orphan that’s to be a female orphan. At least boys can make their way in this world.
Meanwhile, we’re trapped here, kept like caged birds to sing at the Sisters’ request.”
“It could be worse,” Bella whispered. “We could be female orphans who are not here. The Sisters
could have not taken us in. Then where would we be?”
“We’d be whores,” Angela answered simply.
“We’d be starving,” Bella pointed out.
“Bella,” Angela squeezed her tight. “You know what becomes of us if the Sisters cannot find us
husbands once we reach a certain age. I would rather starve as a whore than be locked behind the
grill here at Santa Maria for the rest of my life.”
“Angela,” Bella felt her heart well up in fear at the other girl’s words. She wouldn’t try anything
rash would she?
“It doesn’t matter now,” Angela said firmly and pulled her arm back through Bella’s. “We won’t be
here after dawn tomorrow and the Lady Tanya will find us both husbands in Volterra good
husbands, men of high rank in some lord’s household.
“You still haven’t explained to me what is going on with the Lady Tanya and why we’re going to
Volterra,” Bella replied.
“Well,” Angela dropped onto a white marble bench and pulled Bella down next to her. “To start
with, the Lady Tanya came to visit Mother Catherine and requested five ladies in waiting to take
with her to Volterra. She said she wanted good, chaste, attractive young ladies from Santa Maria
for her retinue when she goes to marry Count Marcus of Volterra. I was told two days ago that I
would be going and so were Jessica, Lauren, Gianna, and Andrea.”
“I’m not in the list of girl’s you named,” Bella pointed out.
“I know,” Angela giggled then and rolled her eyes. “That’s where the gossip comes from. Jessica
served Mother Catherine lunch yesterday while she was with the Lady Tanya.”
“And?”
“The Lady Tanya came to the Mother Superior and informed her that you must be added to the list.
If you were not then none of us would be taken. Jessica says that the Mother tried to persuade her
to take someone else and the Lady Tanya refused. She told Mother that it had to be you and no
one else.”
“Why me?”
“You didn’t know?” Angela looked at her questioningly.
“No,” Bella shook her head. “Tell me!”
“According to Jessica, the Lady Tanya told Mother that the Archbishop had demanded that you be
in her retinue, otherwise he wouldn’t accompany her to Volterra as her confessor nor would he
perform her wedding.”
“The Archbishop?” Bella asked. “What Archbishop?”
“Our Archbishop!” Angela laughed, “Archbishop Cullen!”
“I’ve never met Archbishop Cullen!” Bella protested.
“Bella,” Angela gripped her hands and gave them a tight squeeze. “He was the priest who heard
your confession.”
“No,” Bella shook her head. “He couldn’t have been the Archbishop. Archbishops are old and he
was, he was ”
“Young and handsome?” Angela prompted.
“Yes,” Bella swallowed, “very handsome. He promised to help me.”
“Help you?”
“I told him that I didn’t belong here. I told him everything, how Mother Catherine hates me, that
I’m made to scrub floors, and that I cannot sing. He promised he would find someway to help me.”
“He has,” Angela sighed. “He’s demanded that you be taken along to Volterra. Do you know what
this means?”
“No,” Bella shook her head. “What does this mean?”
“The Archbishop must care a great deal about you,” Angela stood and brushed dirt from her white
skirt.
“He’s only met me once,” Bella argued. “I think he feels pity for me.”
“He wouldn’t demand that you be made a lady in waiting out of pity,” Angela pointed out.
“He could.”
“That would be silly. It’s more likely that you made an impression. Archbishop Cullen has never
taken a mistress before.”
“I’m not his mistress,” Bella hissed out quietly.
“Not yet,” Angela answered and patted her arm.
“He’s a priest! He’s an Archbishop for Heaven’s sake!”
“He’s an Archbishop from the nobility whose godfather is the Pope. I’ve sung at the Villa Presara,
where the Archbishop’s family lives. They’re very kind and so is he. He’s just rather quiet.”
“It doesn’t matter if he’s kind or quiet,” Bella insisted. “He’s a priest!”
Angela patted her arm as they reentered the convent’s main building. “Yes, and we all know just
how chaste the priests of Naples are. Besides, it’s better to be the mistress of a young, handsome,
kind priest than the wife of a cruel, bitter, gout ridden noble with one foot already in his grave.”
“Angela,” Bella exclaimed. “That’s, that’s ”
“That’s practical,” Angela answered bluntly. “We’re orphans with no fathers to find us husbands. All
we have is each other and practicality. Now, we should go and eat before retiring. We leave at
dawn for Volterra.”
“Volterra,” Bella shook her head. “I just can’t imagine that I’m actually going to be free of here and
a lady in waiting in Volterra.”
“Believe it,” Angela answered firmly. “I saw them packing your things with mine. Tomorrow we
leave for Volterra, where you are going to seduce the devilishly handsome Archbishop Cullen and if
not, then we’ll both have to take our chances with whatever husbands the Lady Tanya finds for us.”
“Do you really think she’ll do that? Find us husbands?”
“It’s her duty,” Angela said staunchly. “She’ll lose face if she doesn’t make good matches for us.
We can only hope that those good matches are also handsome and kind.”
“I do,” Bella agreed, “although, for my part, I would be happy with just kind.”
Chapter 4.
“Your Grace?” He turned away from the window and looked toward the alcove where the quiet
voice had called from.
“Alice?” He watched as the dainty housemaid scampered into sight and couldn’t help but smile
when she bobbed a curtsy at him. “What have I told you about that?”
“Sorry Your Grace,” she mumbled and then gave him a brilliant smile. “It’s become a habit.”
“What about the title?” He prompted. “What have I told you about that?”
“I’m sorry Edward,” she glanced up at him shyly. “It still feels wrong to call you by your first
name.”
“Alice,” he chuckled as he wrapped her tiny hand around his elbow and dragged her down the
corridor and out into the nearby garden. “We’ve known each other how long?”
“Eleven years,” she smiled. “That doesn’t mean you aren’t still an Archbishop and I’m still a maid.
It’s only proper that I refer to you by your title. I’ve known Milord Emmett as long as I’ve known
you and the Lady Rosalie for five years and they don’t ask me to take on airs.”
“That’s because Rosalie of Hale is a spoiled, pretentious, money grubbing bitch of the highest
order,” Edward grumbled. “Besides, after you birthed your fourth reincarnation of Jasper, we’ve all
just come to see you as family.”
“You always were a good friend Edward,” Alice replied quietly as they walked along the garden
paths. “Even when you were just little boys you were always my favorite.”
“Hah,” Edward laughed. “Don’t lie to me Alice. You’ve been in love with Jasper since the minute
you took a position here in our house. It’s a sin to lie to your priest.”
“I didn’t lie to you Edward,” she giggled. “I never said I didn’t love Jasper I said you’ve always
been my favorite.”
“Why is that then?”
“Do you remember the first day we met?”
“Of course,” Edward replied. “We were out in the garden and the fencing master was teaching
Emmett and Jasper to fight with stilettos. My father had decided that fencing wasn’t a skill I would
need so I was busy working on my Latin and Greek translations when Gulia brought you out to
show you were the chamber pots should be emptied each morning.”
“Do you remember what happened next?”
“Emmett decided to tease you and pulled your braid and Jasper punched him in the face.”
“What did you do?” Alice nudged him.
“I checked to make sure you were all right and then tried to make you stop crying.”
“And you called your brothers ‘stupid, ignorant asses that weren’t fit to live in a barn much less a
house with such lovely maids.’”
“Well,” Edward shrugged and felt himself blush.
“Then you sat me on the bench next to you and announced that I didn’t have to be afraid because
your father was forcing you to be a priest and you’d never get to woo me anyway, no matter how
pretty I was. So therefore I shouldn’t be nervous around you and we could be friends.”
“It was the truth,” Edward’s face felt on fire then as he remembered what a silly, presumptuous
child he had been. Even then he’d known the extent of his lot as a third son and hated what he
would be forced to become.
“And we did become friends,” Alice announced. “But only once I agreed to let you teach me how to
read. You told me you simply could not be friends with me unless I could read and even when I
tried to explain that girls aren’t taught to read especially girls who are maids you forced me to
learn regardless.”
“It’s a good skill to have,” Edward murmured. “Besides, you never seemed to complain when we
were discussing books. I can see one tucked in your apron pocket right now in fact.”
“I’m not complaining,” Alice nudged him again. “You are my very best friend Edward and I’m going
to miss you so very much.”
“I’m going to miss you too Alice,” he sighed. “Let’s not talk about that though. Tell me about
Giacomo? He seemed healthy the last time I saw him but how is he growing?”
“Fine,” she laughed. “Blonde curls just like his father and his brothers.”
“Six boys,” Edward laughed. “Alice, you are a glutton for punishment.”
“It’s not my fault,” she giggled and Edward could see that her eyes were sparkling. “Your brother is
adamant that ‘he does not make girls’. I keep hoping with each one that he will, perhaps the Lady
Rosalie would be less hostile.”
“The Lady Rosalie is hostile towards the cat,” Edward snorted. She was, he thought uncharitably.
Five years of marriage and not a single whisper of a pregnancy for her. As a political strategy she
had been a feather in the Farnese cap since there were no men to take her family titles and all
their lands would fall into the Farnese’s grasp once her father died; as a wife she had been an
unmitigated, barren disaster. There had even been talk of perhaps bringing back the child Emmett
sired before their marriage on one of the servant girls and recognizing him as an heir. Their father
had come to Edward to discuss the possibilities of an annulment and Rosalie had been crushed
when she heard. Yes, she was bitter towards anything female that could reproduce but Edward had
a hard time faulting her for it.
“Maybe we’ll get lucky this time,” Alice smiled at him hopefully. “Surely six living sons is enough
and God will let me have my little girl.”
“This time?” Edward groaned. “Alice, I just celebrated the birth of Giacomo less than six months
ago! How far gone can you be?”
“Almost three months,” she whispered and looked down at the gravel pathway at their feet.
“My brother is a cad with no restraint,” Edward muttered and shook his head. “You really should
not tolerate his behavior Alice.”
“I love him,” she kicked idly at a pebble.
“Agh!” Edward reached over to grab her shoulders so that she looked at him.
“You aren’t going to be here to christen this one,” he could see the tears welling up in her eyes.
“What am I going to do with you gone? No one else will do it.”
“I,” Edward leaned down to kiss her forehead, “will take care of that. Don’t worry, a good friend of
mine is staying behind and when the time comes send another member of the household to fetch
him. He’ll christen the baby at my request.”
“Thank you Edward,” she wrapped her arms around his neck and gave him a brief squeeze. “You
really are my best friend.”
“I know,” he shook his head and smiled at her. “That’s why I’m about to make a huge mistake for
you Alice.”
“What do you mean?”
“Go wash your hands and face and meet me in the chapel.”
“Why?”
“I’m going to get my brother.”
“What for?”
“I’ve just accepted that my brother isn’t going to stop terrorizing you with his spawn, at least from
now on he can make them within the sanctity of marriage. The only other option I can see is
castration.”
“I don’t think he’ll agree to that,” Alice giggled.
“Neither do I,” Edward shook his head as he released Alice’s hand and made his way inside.
Stalking the corridor to Jasper’s room he saw Emmett coming toward him from the main hall.
“Edward!” Emmett announced joyfully. “Where did you disappear to?”
“To find out about our newest niece or nephew,” Edward replied dryly.
Emmett roared with laughter and slapped him on the back. “It’s definitely a nephew brother. I’ve
seen him without a stitch on in the kitchen; he’s definitely going to make the ladies swoon one
day.”
Edward couldn’t help rolling his eyes at his brother’s earthy comment. “Not Giacomo, the new one.”
“The new one?” Emmett’s eyebrows rose to almost reach his hairline. “She’s pregnant again?”
“Again,” Edward agreed.
“Jesus Christ!” Emmett swore and Edward glared at him. “Sorry, I mean gracious! What is he
doing? Mounting her the minute she’s on her feet again?”
“That’s what I’m beginning to think,” Edward retorted. “So, where is our erstwhile young lover?”
“He went to check on something in the stables quite possibly Alice.”
“No,” Edward reached out to grab his brother’s shoulder and pull him in the direction of the stables.
“She’s in the kitchen washing her hands and face. Come along.”
“Where are we going?”
“To drag Jasper into the chapel so that I can perform my last act as the Archbishop of Naples.”
“And what might that be?”
“To marry our brother the cad to the poor housemaid he keeps siring bastards on and you, my
brother, are going to act as a witness. Don’t worry it won’t be binding so the children won’t be
recognized by the Florentine state as legitimate without special dispensation.”
“You know I don’t care about that,” Emmett huffed.
“Truly?” Edward looked at him skeptically.
“If I had a choice between living in a little villa sipping wine with my Rose at my side or being a
Lord and courtier under the Farnese with some sallow faced chit who was only chosen to whelp my
sons I’d take the vineyards and Rose without a second thought. Not that I’ll be given any choice.”
“Most likely not,” Edward shrugged. “His Holiness has no grounds not to annul your marriage if
requested. I can’t imagine I would be able to sway him, but I promise if the time comes I will try.”
“I know,” Emmett nodded somberly. “Let’s go drag Jasper into the chapel. It’s time to make an
honest man out of him.”
Later that night in the carriage Edward let his thoughts drift to the family he wouldn’t see again for
several months. All of them paired together now as they should be. He leaned his head against the
open carriage window and watched the darkened city roll by. So much love between them, so
many different ways it was expressed, and all of it eluded him.
The joyous love he’d seen between Jasper and Alice as he’d said the words to declare them man
and wife. The tears of pride he’d seen in his brother’s eyes as he gently cupped the slightly swelling
side of his new bride. He was envious of their pure and simple love for each other.
The determination he’d seen in Emmett’s eyes when he told Edward he’d give everything up to be
with his shrew of a wife Rose. He’d watched them later, as the evening’s entertainment wound to a
close, and seen the same fierce devotion in her eyes as she looked at Emmett. Their marriage was
seen by everyone to be a failure but he had seen the vast strength of their devotion just the same.
He had no doubt that given the choice his brother would take a peasants shack and keep Rosalie
rather than remain a Lord without her. For once, he believed that she would make the same choice
as well.
He watched his parents’ quiet comfort as they sat together, not saying anything as they gazed
upon their lingering guests. He had never once seen his parents act upon their affections openly
but every gesture between them was a reaffirmation of the love they shared for each other.
He would never have any of those moments for himself. He would always be alone and the thought
made his chest ache. Even in the rash fantasies he’d let himself entertain the last week, the stupid
demands he’d placed on the Lady Tanya, he’d known that all he could ever do was glimpse the girl
he’d seen inside the confessional. She would never be his.
He would never be able to look at her with the prideful knowledge that her heart belonged solely to
him. Her face would never wear that look of silent, steady devotion that he’d seen Rosalie wearing
tonight. They would never have moments where they watched their grown children and shared the
warmth of their love between them. They would never be those things. They could never be those
things.
He was a priest and one day soon the Lady Tanya would find her a husband. He would say her
wedding mass and watch in sinful envy as someone unworthy kissed her lips. He’d say the
blessings over her children and wish they were his own. He’d hear her confession and watch her
children grow, knowing that he could never have her for his own. His life would be an agony of
watching her live that life with someone other than him and he had chosen it as his own fate
deciding rashly that it was better to suffer a hundred thousand days of agony in her presence than
a moment away from it. Isabella Swan would never be his and in that moment he’d never wanted
anything else more.
Chapter 5.
Edward couldn’t help but stare at the barrage of carriages in front of him. It was audacious, he
thought to himself the Lady Tanya was using her dead husband’s carriages to carry her retinue
to Volterra Castle. He looked behind the carriages, still bearing her former husband’s coat of arms,
to the wagons and wondered idly how much of the plate and other goods had come from Este
before she left.
“Sinful,” the pudgy monk beside him spat. “Greedy, lascivicious, thieving harpy of a woman.”
“Tell me how you really feel Brother Michael,” Edward chuckled as he swung onto his own gray
stallion with a well practiced ease.
“She’s a whore,” Brother Tyler, another monk, replied.
“Her marriages were all arranged for her,” Brother Michael contradicted. “I’ll lay no blame for that
at her feet but it gives her no excuse to behave as she does; keeping lovers and living to excess.
They say she stripped Este Castle bare on her departure. Her own child is living like a pauper in
that castle with his nursemaids so that she can bring wagons full of wealth as a dowry.”
“The poor, young Marquis of Este,” Tyler snickered. “With all the rumors that abound about him
and now she’s stripped his coffers bare.”
“Rumors?” Edward looked up at him. “What rumors? He’s four years old for goodness sake!”
“Well,” Brother Michael shrugged, “he is the first dark haired child of the Este in well, um, ever?”
“With a fair haired mother to boot,” Tyler pointed out.
“That’s a dangerous topic of conversation,” Edward warned. “Anthony, Marquis of Este, was
recognized by his father before the previous Marquis’ death. For all intents Anthony is his son and
no others regardless of what anyone may say.”
“Of course Your Grace,” Brother Tyler nodded. “That doesn’t change the fact that she robbed him
blind for her own gain.”
“That’s true,” Edward conceded. “Perhaps she can be persuaded later to return some of it to
Este Castle.”
“I doubt it,” Brother Tyler snorted and then abruptly stepped down from his mount. Looking
around, Edward immediately saw why and dismounted as well. Lady Tanya appeared, modest veil
thrown back from her face defiantly, as she led her small band of ladies to the carriages.
“Angela and Isabella will ride in my carriage and the rest of you will take the other,” she
announced dramatically.
Edward watched as a taller, veiled girl and his own veiled Bella scurried toward the larger carriage
while the rest made their way silently to the smaller one waiting behind. “Your Grace,” the Lady
Tanya called out over her shoulder. “You should ride next to my carriage. We have plenty to
discuss before arriving in Volterra.”
“Certainly Milady,” he agreed quickly and then remounted his stallion. Volver whickered softly as
he nudged the horse closer to the carriage. The horse was fast and sleek but hated to be boxed in
and hadn’t been able to be broken in as a warhorse. Rather than put the beast down, Jasper had
given Edward the animal instead.
“Volvo,” Edward softly warned the stallion. “Don’t be fussy; the carriage isn’t going to bite you.
Stupid horse.”
Volver snorted and allowed Edward to guide him closer to the carriage, pulling his teeth back only
once when he came close to the matched pair of black geldings harnessed to it. Edward nudged the
horse sharply again with his left knee and then turned to look into the carriage. “Lady Tanya,” he
bowed his head politely, “ladies.”
“Your Grace,” two shy voices whispered from behind veils and he could see Isabella’s eyes flick up
to meet his own before she glanced quickly at the carriage floor. He couldn’t help but smile as he
saw a faint blush paint across her cheeks from behind her sheer, white veil.
“Edward,” the Lady Tanya ran her fingers slowly up his arm. “I’m so glad that your godfather saw
fit to allow you to accompany me as my confessor. I understand that you were offered a place in
the College as well? How lucky for me that I bring a Cardinal to Volterra as part of my retinue?”
“I’m sorry to disappoint Lady Tanya,” Edward tried to keep his tone sincere but knew he was
failing, “I’m still only an Archbishop.”
“You are?” He could hear the disappointment in her flat tone.
“I am,” he smiled slightly at her and shook his head.
“Well,” she began teasing her fingers along his arm again. “That’s no matter. In fact we could even
consider it a blessing there will be less need of you to travel to Rome if you’re not a member of
the College. I don’t think I could stand to have my priest far away very often.”
“Is that so?”
“It is,” she shook her head mournfully. “I’ll be in need of your counsel frequently as I start my new
life. Especially with how distraught I am to leave poor Anthony. I’d take him with me but the Este
were adamant he stay there and remain in his rightful place as my former husband’s heir.”
“Yes,” Edward nodded. “I could see how that would be difficult for you to bear. It seems you’ve
taken many keepsakes though to comfort you.”
“My son was very generous,” Tanya agreed. “His uncles wanted to make the best impression
possible for Count Marcus so that they could form a strong alliance with him in the future. Half
brothers in Volterra and Este will lead to a stronger Tuscan corridor.”
“It will at that,” Edward agreed. He knew that the Este had wanted to make an alliance to keep
their holdings strong but he also knew that they had never worried about rivalry from Count
Marcus. The old man was known to be cruel and cunning but not stupid and while Este was a small
territory it was well defended and difficult to attack. More likely they had simply been looking for
anyone willing to take the Lady Tanya off their hands and out of their treasury.
“Speaking of my darling Anthony brings me to another subject I wanted to discuss with you
Edward,” Tanya purred.
“Milady?”
“Have you perhaps thought about the sermon you intend to give for my wedding?”
“My sermon?” Edward tried to keep his voice composed. She wanted to know about his sermon? He
had intended to give the standard nuptial sermon regarding love, loyalty and obedience that was
expected before wedding vows took place. He usually added a small bit about kindness and the
value of respect between two parties but for the most part he gave the same basic wedding
sermon as every other priest. Weddings were not the place to deal with weighty subjects of the
soul.
“Yes,” Tanya shifted slightly and then glanced around to see if anyone else was near the carriage.
“I don’t know what you’ve heard Edward.”
He grit his teeth slightly as he smiled at her. The woman simply refused to use his proper title
when they were alone and while he normally hated to hear anyone call him ‘Your Grace’, the Lady
Tanya was the one exception to his rule. “I’ve heard nothing out of the ordinary,” he tried to keep
his face innocent as he lied.
“There is a faction in Volterra that are less than pleased that I am to become the new Countess,”
Tanya snapped.
“Really?” Edward attempted to keep his composure and not laugh. He assumed that it was more
than a faction that didn’t want the Lady Tanya as their newest Countess. She was well known
throughout Tuscany for her outrageous behavior and lavish lifestyle.
“They were quite vocal for my main competitor in the quest for Lord Marcus’ favor. A good number
of the minor nobles of Volterra preferred to forge an alliance with some of the Corsican nobles or
even the Spaniards. Lord Marcus has considerable dealings with the Spaniards and I was given to
understand that perhaps I was not his first choice as a bride.”
“Surely not,” Edward kept his lips compressed together. It seems he wasn’t the only one who had
heard rumors that Lord Marcus had been in negotiations for a Spanish bride.
“Yes,” Tanya growled. “It seems the Lady Lucrezia became ill quite suddenly on her journey toward
Volterra to meet the Count. A sudden mistemper of the stomach I was told.”
Edward looked sharply at Tanya and saw the cruel set of her mouth and the way one of her
eyebrows arched. He’d bet Volver against a mule that the mistemper that had killed the Lady
Lucrezia was a direct result of something she’d ingested and the Lady Tanya had played some part
in it. “Is that so?”
“Yes,” Tanya nodded. “Then it seems the Corsican delegates suddenly decided that they were
unable to complete negotiations with Count Marcus without further guidance. The Lady Sarah is
young and they were unsure about how ready she was to wed.”
“That would be a concern,” Edward agreed. “I had heard the Lady Sarah had barely reached
adulthood. Perhaps a husband who had fewer years on him would be a better suitor for her?”
“Quite,” Tanya growled. “That brings me to your sermon Edward. I wouldn’t dare presume to tell
you what subjects to devote your time to but perhaps you may want to mention the importance of
loyalty to one’s liege and the concept of obedience during your sermon.”
“Those are certainly things to consider when one enters matrimony,” Edward agreed quietly and
then glanced over to see Isabella’s head lowered. He didn’t know how much of the conversation
she understood but if she even recognized a small portion of the things being discussed she would
certainly hate him for requesting her presence here with this poisonous viper of a woman.
“You might also want to touch upon how rude it is to gossip and the evilness of jealousy,” Tanya
added in. “I’ve heard quite a lot about my son’s generous nature and none of it is kind. He is a boy
dedicated to his mother and wanted me to arrive in Volterra with pride and not as a widowed
pauper and because of that my honor, and his, is being tainted.”
“Surely not,” Edward bit his inner cheek to keep from roaring with laughter. “Who would cast such
aspersions on a child? Especially one that appears so devoted to his mother, not to mention his
overwhelming generosity for one so young. Surely, he must have sent half the wealth from Este’s
storerooms to provide for your comfort. That sort of generosity should be celebrated in one so
young.”
“Quite,” he could see the Lady Tanya gritting her teeth and couldn’t help but smile as he looked
over to see both Isabella and Angela’s amused eyes looking back at him.
“Well,” Edward lowered his head in a deferential nod. “I will certainly take your suggestions into
consideration Milady and, when we reach Volterra, I will ask Count Marcus as your future
husband and liege what he would have me discuss. He may find that the easiest way to temper
vicious gossip is if some of your wealth is sent back to Este. No one could fault the Marquis; it
would simply be to lessen the gossip.”
“Return some of the wealth?”
“Perhaps,” Edward inwardly chuckled. “Not the gold for his coffers or the heavy plate, of course.”
“Of course,” Tanya seemed to stiffen and Edward prepared for the blow that he knew would crush
her. It served her right, in his opinion, after what she had done. Not only was it rumored that she’d
killed her husband and a young woman who might have bested her in her conquest for Count
Marcus, but she also robbed her son’s treasury, and had forced Edward to leave his home to be her
confessor a position that was laughable considering the Lady Tanya was too evil to be capable of
remorse.
“It may stem the gossip if the bolts of silk and the jewels went back though,” he added lightly,
“along with the carriages.”
“The jewels?” The Lady Tanya repeated. “And all the silk cloth?”
“And the carriages with the Este coat of arms on them. It could be explained then, of course, that
your son had only allowed you to borrow the carriages and their horses so that you could travel to
your new home in comfort and that you had always intended for them to be returned.”
“The horses as well,” the Lady Tanya repeated, her face looking as if she had been made to drink
the most bitter poison.
“Certainly,” Edward answered. “Count Marcus wouldn’t want to look like the type of man who’d
accept such gifts from a small boy. While he’d mean nothing by it, and the gifts were freely given,
he’d certainly look as though he was taking advantage of a child for his own gain. I’m sure, once
it’s brought to his attention, that it will be the course he decides is best. Better to disappoint the
Marquis than live with the disgrace of seeming to have stolen from an innocent child during the
beginnings of an alliance. Don’t you agree?”
“Of course Edward,” Tanya nodded slowly and closed her eyes. “If you don’t mind though, the
swaying of this carriage is beginning to give me a terrible pain just behind the eyes. I think I would
like to rest.”
“That would be for the best,” Edward agreed. “We would hate for you to be indisposed tomorrow
when we reach Volterra. Besides, I should return to my brethren. They’re unaccustomed to riding
anything besides the monastery’s mules.”
“Yes,” Tanya nodded and kept her eyes closed. “I understand. You should be with your men.”
“Lady Tanya,” he bent his head politely and then glanced up at Isabella with a smile, “ladies.”
“Your Grace,” the two girls bobbed their veiled heads as they answered softly.
Edward nodded to both of them and then nudged Volver’s side so that they could fall back from the
carriage and regroup next to his own retinue of monks and the two young seminarians he had
brought along to continue their education.
“Your conversation with the Lady Tanya seemed pleasant,” Brother Tyler suggested as Volver fell
into step beside the other man’s horse.
“It was,” Edward smiled. “The Lady Tanya has given us a lesson to contemplate as we travel along
the road.”
“What is that Your Grace?” The dark haired seminarian behind him Ben he thought asked.
“For everything there is a season,” Edward intoned solemnly. “When that time has come to pass its
fruits must be let go. In the same vein, for every vice there is a punishment and it’s time too will
come to pass for those who deserve it.”
“You think this time will come to pass?” Brother Michael asked skeptically and Edward turned to
grin at him.
“I think that after I meet with Count Marcus and discuss the finer points of theology with him,
including the cruel and tragic demise of his originally intended bride, that perhaps it will manifest
itself in a very public way.”
“Public?” Brother Tyler questioned.
“Yes,” Edward agreed. “While the people of Volterra will be awed at the love the young Marquis of
Este has for his mother they’ll be even more impressed at the humble gratitude of their own Count
when he returns the Marquis’ horses, carriages and of course all the silk and jewels that were sent
along with the Lady Tanya. Surely a woman that is so devout that she needs an Archbishop as a
confessor has no need of such vanities?”
Edward glanced at the two monks who were riding beside him and smiled. Both men were grinning
like loons and when he looked behind him, he saw that the seminarians were as well. Edward
smirked and couldn’t help the slight rumble in his chest as he heard Brother Michael begin to
chuckle.
Chapter 6.
“Insufferable bastard!” Bella winced as she heard something else shatter upon impact with the
wall. “The nerve of him!”
“The Lady Tanya is still angry?” Jessica whispered as she entered the small receiving room that
Bella was sitting in.
“Livid,” Bella replied. “She actually attacked two of the porters who came to retrieve the things
Count Marcus has decided to return to the Este and she had to be restrained by the Count’s head
of household. He sent one of the housemaids to a local woman for a sedative to calm her nerves
but the Lady Tanya apparently threw a vase at her instead of taking the remedy.”
“Oh my,” Jessica shook her head. “Do you know how much they’ve taken?”
“According to the man in charge of the Treasury all the silk cloth that hasn’t been turned into
dresses except for two lengths of white silk, all the bed dressings, all of her jewels and trinkets
except for one small portrait of the young Marquis, all the money in her coffers, the carriages, the
horses, and all of her staff except for you, Angela and I are to be sent back to Este.”
“He’s taking everything from her?” Jessica repeated. “All of it?”
“All of it,” Bella confirmed. “Apparently the Count was enraged that she would shame him by
bringing looted property to Volterra as part of her baggage. He came to her room last night and,
according to Angela, they were screaming at each other so loudly that she could hear them
through the door.”
“What did they say?” Jessica bounced slightly on the settee.
“Well,” Bella looked around guiltily, she knew that gossiping was wrong but who could blame her
for this? They all hated the Lady Tanya and it was scandalous. “Apparently he told her that she had
two options, she could live as he saw fit for her as his wife or she could reconcile herself to a
convent. He’d had a messenger from the Este telling him in no uncertain terms that they would not
take her back at Este Castle as the dowager mother to the young Marquis.”
“She told him that she’d live as his wife as he saw fit but she couldn’t understand why he was
reducing her to poverty. She claimed that he should be proud of her and wish to lavish her in fine
things instead of keeping her as a pauper.”
“What did Count Marcus say?” Jessica gasped in shock that the Lady Tanya would ever have the
nerve to suggest that her future husband was keeping her improperly.
“He told her that if she wanted to be lavished in fine things she would have to earn them. He then
told her that the marriage between them will take place in one week.”
“One week?” Jessica replied. “I thought they were waiting for the Feast of St. Marcus for the
wedding? They were going to make it part of Volterra’s celebrations.”
“The celebration will be held on St. Marcus’s day,” Bella whispered. “But the wedding takes place in
one week. Angela said that he told her it would be in her best interest to give the people of
Volterra something else to celebrate on St. Marcus’s day by letting him announce she’s pregnant
with another son and that unlike some men he wouldn’t be fooled by a dark haired imposter.”
“He didn’t?” Jessica gasped.
“Spoiled, insufferable, castratti bastard!” The Lady Tanya yelled again from her private chambers.
“Is she talking about Count Marcus?” Jessica looked at Bella in wide eyed shock.
“No,” Bella shook her head. “I think this latest rampage is about the Archbishop. She thinks he
persuaded the Count to return all the things she stole to Este.”
“Did he?”
“Yes,” Bella nodded. “Then he came by here this morning to speak with her.”
“How did she handle that?”
“He helped the head of household restrain her and then when he released her she slapped him.
Hard.”
“Hard?”
“I could see the hand print on his cheek when he came back into the sitting room.”
“She slapped the Archbishop?” Jessica repeated. “Your Archbishop?”
“He’s not my Archbishop,” Bella replied.
“Did he sit for a while in this room after she slapped him?” Jessica prompted.
“Yes.”
“And every time you attend the Lady Tanya does he come to visit?”
“Yes,” Bella felt herself blush.
“Then he’s your Archbishop,” Jessica laughed. “He doesn’t come to see the rest of us.”
“I’m sure it’s just a coincidence,” Bella muttered. “He only comes for a short while, he asks a few
questions and then he leaves.”
“What sort of questions?”
“How do I find Volterra? What am I reading? Whether I have taken in the gardens? Those sorts of
questions. I know nothing about him and he knows nothing about me. If he did there is no way he
would spend time in my company, it would be a disgrace.”
“It would not,” Jessica answered. “You are not your mother and her actions shouldn’t reflect upon
you. Besides, your mother was a courtesan that is exactly the type of background necessary for
what the Archbishop is interested in.”
“Jessica!”
“Isabella!” The other girl responded and then giggled.
“I don’t know anything about him and I highly doubt someone as powerful as the Archbishop thinks
of me that way.”
“I know all about him,” Jessica smirked.
“Do you?”
“Sister Therese knew him as a child and she told me all about him once.”
“She told you about him? When?”
“When she found out I was being sent to Volterra,” Jessica shrugged. “She thought that it might be
a way to increase my social standing to have him as a lover.”
“Sister Therese wanted you to take a lover?” Bella gasped.
“She told me it was better to take a lover than a husband,” Jessica sighed. “Especially one that
would bring me back to Naples at some point.”
Suddenly it dawned on Bella what Jessica was suggesting. “You and Sister Therese are ”
“It’s not something I want to discuss Bella,” Jessica shook her head. “It’s over and done with and
now I’m waiting for the Lady Tanya to find me a rich husband to wed; hopefully one that will take
me farther away from Naples instead of closer to it. I’ve heard the Spanish ambassadors will be
coming to celebrate the wedding, so perhaps I’ll be able to find my match among one of them.”
“That would be wonderful Jessica,” Bella tried to smile. “I’ve heard the men that travel with the
Spanish envoy are very handsome.”
The door into the hallway crashed open and one of the courtiers rushed inside. “Where is the Lady
Tanya?” He announced. “And the Archbishop?”
“Um,” Bella looked at him in shock.
“Now girl!” The man snapped.
“The Lady Tanya is in her private chamber and I assume the Archbishop is in either the chapel or
at the Cathedral.”
“Right,” the man nodded curtly and turned to leave the room. Turning back he looked at Bella
swiftly. “You’ll want to tell the Lady Tanya that the heretic bastard is dead and then I imagine you
ladies will wish to clean yourselves up. There will be quite the feast tonight.”
“The heretic bastard?” Bella repeated.
“Edward the Fourth,” the man called over his shoulder as he raced from the room. “The Lady Mary
has taken the throne from the bitch pretender and assumed her rightful place. The heresy of
England is over.”
“Milady,” Jessica called out as the two girls scrambled toward the private chamber’s door. “Milady
Tanya?”
“What?” A slurred voice announced from the other end and Bella stood in shock as the door was
wrenched open to show a very intoxicated Lady Tanya, swaying in the doorway and clasping a
goblet of wine.
“King Edward the Fourth of England is dead Milady,” Bella said quietly.
“What?” The Lady Tanya repeated.
“Edward the Fourth has died. The Catholic Lady Mary has taken the thrown.”
“Bella, make these chambers presentable,” Tanya snapped suddenly. “First, arrange for my bath.
Then tidy the chambers and retrieve my red gown with the diamonds sewn into it. Jessica, you are
to go into the kitchens and tell the staff that they are to prepare a lavish feast tonight in the
Archbishop’s honor. Tonight we’ll celebrate.”
“Yes Milady,” Bella and Jessica curtsied and watched as the Lady Tanya slammed the door in their
faces.
“Why would the Archbishop care that Edward the Fourth is dead?” Bella asked Jessica as they
scurried down the corridor to complete their assigned tasks.
“Really Bella,” Jessica rolled her eyes. “The Archbishop and his family are Englishmen.”
“They’re English?”
“Cullen?” Jessica prompted. “The Archbishop’s father was part of the envoy sent to Rome to plead
the case for the Good Queen Catherine when the Heretic Henry tried to annul their marriage so he
could marry the Boleyn witch. When he stripped away the faith of England the Cullens decided to
stay and become courtiers to the Farnese.”
“He must miss England,” Bella sighed.
“He’s never been there,” Jessica answered. “The Lady Esme was carrying Lord Emmett when they
traveled to Rome and none of them have ever returned. Their property in England was taken from
them by the Crown and given to the Boleyn’s brother along with their titles. Lord Carlisle is friendly
with the Lady Mary and her husband; they’ve even hosted them for a time in Naples. She’ll return
their titles and then your Archbishop will be even richer and more powerful than he already is.”
“Jessica,” Bella hissed as they reached the place where the corridor split to take them in different
directions. “I told you, he isn’t my Archbishop.”
“He will be,” Jessica smiled. “Very, very soon he will be.”
Chapter 7.
He played idly with the goblet of wine in his left hand and tried to appear interested in the scene in
front of him. It would do no good for the court to realize that he was disgusted with the revelry
taking place. Christendom was celebrating the death of Edward the Fourth and as a Prince of the
Church it was his job to celebrate as well. It was his job to say the mass of Thanksgiving for the
death of a child and the return of a maniacal shrew to the throne of England. As if anyone should
celebrate such a thing as if he should celebrate such a thing. A king, a child, was dead and they
were celebrating it with a feast and dancing.
“You’re quiet tonight Your Grace,” Count Marcus’s brother, Aro, said casually as he stepped close to
Edward’s side. “The festivities are not to your liking?”
“They’re very much to my liking,” Edward shrugged and took a drink of wine. “I still cannot find it
in me to celebrate the death of another.”
“But surely the return of the Mother Church to England makes up for one death?”
“One death?” Edward raised an eyebrow. They had received a full report from one of the
messengers to the Pope about what had occurred in England and he knew that what had happened
would lead to more than one death. “You think the Lady Grey will survive long? You do not think
Queen Mary will take action against her? She will not exile a pretender to her throne.”
“That is the way of rebellions,” Aro shrugged. “If she’d have won, Queen Mary’s head would be on
the pike instead.”
“It is,” Edward agreed and took another long drink. “I just cannot find it in me to celebrate
someone else’s misfortune, no matter how much it may improve my own.”
“And that,” Aro clapped him on the back, “is why you are a priest and your brother Jasper is a
soldier. Though not for much longer, I suspect.”
“I cannot see my brother in England,” Edward shook his head. “He complains every time they must
take the Papal Army across the Alps. The cold and the rain are not my brother’s boon companions.
No, I suspect if anyone were to reclaim the family estates it will be my parents or perhaps my
brother Emmett and his bride.”
“Perhaps,” Aro shrugged nonchalantly. “Or perhaps the estates would better belong to you. After
all, England will need its own Cardinal to oversee her under the Queen. One of noble rank from
amongst their own may sit better in England than an outsider.”
“Perhaps,” Edward nodded and immediately rejected the idea. He wouldn’t leave Volterra before
Isabella had married. It was stupid, he knew they could never be together, but while there was still
any possibility that she did not belong to another he would stay.
“It seems the Lady Tanya is retiring,” Aro broke in. “I’ll leave you so that I may wish my brother’s
future bride a good night so that we may continue with more enjoyable festivities.”
Edward fought to not roll his eyes, enjoyable festivities indeed. He’d seen the closed carriages
arriving earlier in the evening and knew that the Spaniards had quietly let it be known that the
festivities would continue in their apartments. “I think I’ll retire as well,” Edward agreed as he set
his goblet on the table. “The festivities you have in mind are not to my particular taste.”
“Truly? Is it just the Spanish whores or whores in particular?”
Edward tried not to shake his head at the question. He was a priest, whores were not supposed to
be to his taste. No matter how attractive they were, it was against his vows and truly the idea of
paying for flesh was distasteful to him. “I prefer my delights to be freely given,” he muttered and
hoped the other man would let the subject drop.
“Every woman costs Your Grace,” Aro chuckled and clapped him on the back. “Every woman.
Whores are just up front about it.”
“Good night,” Edward rolled his eyes before walking away from the other man, rolling his eyes. Aro
was incorrigible. His sons were set to become the newest rulers of Volterra should the Lady Tanya
fail to conceive and the two had an immense dislike for each other. For all her plundering of Este
he hadn’t blamed her in the slightest for demanding her own cooks. Nor her demand that the lap
dog Count Marcus had bought her be present at every meal. Everyone pretended that they didn’t
see her first slip the animal a bite of her meals before she ate it herself, they would do the same in
her position.
He wandered the gardens for several hours and waited for the sun to rise. It was Isabella’s night to
sit in attendance of the Lady Tanya and he knew she was awake attending to her duties. He stood
in the gardens and looked at the windows above him, the faint glow of the fire from the Lady
Tanya’s main parlor reflecting down upon him. He wondered what she was reading tonight because
that was what Isabella did when she sat in attendance for the Lady Tanya. The rest of the ladies in
waiting would sew or daydream, Isabella would read. He had been amazed the first time he
realized it; she wasn’t reading books of poetry or the fairytales so frequently popular with other
ladies. He wasn’t sure how she’d acquired a copy, but the first time he’d visited the Lady Tanya’s
room she had been reading the Decameron. Since then, he’d smuggled her in an Italian translation
of Chaucer, laughing at her blush the next time he’d seen her after she’d read the bawdy tales.
To hell with it, he sighed to himself as he made his way to the trellis. He was pathetic and he knew
it. Lovesick over a woman he would never have. He grasped hold of the trellis and began to climb
slowly, silently making his way onto the balcony. Shifting into the spot he’d come to see as his own
he lurked in the shadows watching her, resisting the urge to touch the glass as he spied on her.
She was asleep on the settee, feet curled underneath her and the book slipping from her lap. Her
hair was loose, like all unmarried women at court, and he gazed at it as it curled around her
shoulders in a long, dark wave. Her cheeks were flushed in the firelight and he could see the
delicate flesh of her ankles from where her skirt had risen slightly. The shadows from the flickering
light made her seem otherworldly, like an enchantress from the mythologies. She was a muse, a
sprite, one of the fey that the superstitious peasants of the countryside still believed in. Was that
what she was? He wondered to himself. Was she one of the fey the real Isabella stolen and
replaced by an otherworldly child? Ridiculous, he knew, but it was still the best explanation he had
for why this girl had so completely stolen his heart. He pressed closer to the glass and watched as
she shifted slightly, rolling further back into the settee and arching her back. He could vaguely see
the shift of her bodice and the way her breasts shifted in the low, square neckline that was popular
in this court.
“Isabella,” he heard the distinctly nasal tone of the Lady Tanya and instantly moved further into
the shadows. The last thing he needed was for the Lady Tanya to find him mooning after one of her
ladies in waiting. He watched as Isabella startled awake and patted her hair.
“Yes Milady?” He watched as she glanced around the room, nervous she’d been caught asleep at
her post and, once she was assured she was still alone, slipped into her shoes.
He watched the Lady Tanya appear in the doorway in nothing but her sleeping gown, silk and
dripping with expensive, imported lace. “Take this note to the Spanish ambassador’s chambers.
Leave it with his attendants so that it’s the first thing he sees on waking.”
“Yes Milady,” Isabella ducked her head and then scurried over to retrieve the note.
Edward felt his chest tighten and his heart began to beat faster. She wanted Isabella to go to the
Spanish ambassador’s chambers? They were still debauching and womanizing in those chambers
and with the amount of wine that was flowing it wouldn’t matter to anyone that Isabella was one of
the Lady Tanya’s maids and not a whore.
“Perhaps you could spend a few moments in conversation with young Jacob,” Lady Tanya added
helpfully. “I believe he’s the ambassador’s attendant tonight.”
Jacob? Edward felt his chest contract further. She wanted Isabella to be alone with the Spanish
ambassador’s secretary in the middle of the night? Didn’t she realize that if that were to become
public, even without the whoring currently taking place, Isabella’s reputation would be ruined? The
only way to save face for her would be to . . . Edward swallowed around the lump in his throat. The
only way to save her honor would be to marry her to the ambassador’s secretary and nephew
Jacob.
He swung over the side of the balcony and hurried back down the trellis, uncaring about the
amount of noise he was making. Once his booted feet hit the ground he sprinted into the castle
and rushed toward the hallway Isabella would have to take between the Lady Tanya’s rooms and
the Spanish ambassador’s. He’d intercept her before she reached the Spanish ambassador’s
chambers and take the note from her to deliver himself. Then he would escort her back to the Lady
Tanya’s chambers. She would be fully chaperoned and no one would question her behavior.
He found an alcove and decided to duck into it. He didn’t know how he would explain his sudden
appearance in the hallway but it was better than lurking in the open and being forced to admit to
spying on her through a window. He paced the small alcove and waited. Why would Tanya want to
risk the reputation of one of her ladies? Especially before the wedding? It would do harm to her
reputation and create a scandal within the court. It wouldn’t stop the wedding but it would be a
source of gossip for months on end.
Of course, he growled as he realized what the Lady Tanya had in mind. If Isabella were disgraced
she would become the focus of all the court’s gossip instead of the Lady Tanya. If the scandal
involved a member of the Spanish retinue he would be forced to marry her and bind the Spanish
closer to the Lady Tanya. It would force the ambassador into a wary alliance instead of being
openly antagonistic to her. Then there was Jacob, Edward did feel a growl slip past his teeth then.
Jacob, the ambassador’s secretary and nephew was a womanizing cad who chased the castle’s
maids. He’d taken the confessions of three housemaids since his arrival who were expecting little
strangers that would not be so strange to Jacob Black. He was the worst sort of noble; demanding,
arrogant, entirely self involved and unnaturally interested in Isabella Swan.
The puppy followed her constantly as she walked in the gardens, spying on her with the other
ladies. He’d brought her flowers twice to the Lady Tanya’s receiving rooms and had tried countless
times to speak with her privately. Every time she would look over at Edward nervously and he
would intercede. Isabella was a shy, naive convent girl and he knew she was uncomfortable with
the attention Black paid her.
“Hello my pretty one,” he heard a growl from the hallway outside his alcove and was pulled from
his thoughts. “It seems you’ve gotten lost.”
“Please,” he heard a soft whimper. “I’m here to deliver a message to the Spanish ambassador.”
“Of course you are,” the coarse voice chuckled. “All of you have the same message for the
ambassador how happy you are to serve.”
“I’m not,” he heard her whimper again before he stepped into the hallway and cleared his throat.
The man he’d heard a second earlier had pushed Isabella against the tapestry on the far wall and
was trying to work his knee between her thighs, a hand on the wall on each side of her head, using
his arms to block her in.
“Isabella?”
“Your Grace?” He heard her voice rise in panic. Did she think he was condoning what was
happening to her?
“Is there a problem here?” His voice had dropped down into its own growl and he watched as the
other man’s arms dropped, stepping away from Isabella.
“There’s no problem here,” the man spat angrily. “One of the whores attempting to make her way
through the castle. Probably to pilfer, I expect.”
“Isabella is a member of the Lady Tanya’s retinue,” Edward snapped in return. “I doubt she’s
attempting to pilfer. I think it would be best if you return to the ambassador’s apartments. Or even
better your own.”
“Of course Your Grace,” the other man sneered before stalking down the hallway, away from
Isabella and the Spanish ambassador’s quarters.
“Isabella?” He let his voice soften. “Why are you out of your quarters so late? Or early as it seems
to be?”
He watched as she held up the sheet of parchment for him to inspect, her head still down. “The
Lady Tanya asked me to deliver this note to the ambassador,” she whispered. “I didn’t mean to
cause any trouble Your Grace.”
“I’m sure the note could have waited till morning,” he snapped angrily, “at a more appropriate
time.”
“She demanded that it be delivered now,” Isabella whispered again and he felt the anger of the last
few minutes consume him. She would have been hurt, debauched by a random member of the
court he swallowed thickly abused in a hallway like a common whore.
“You,” he growled, “need to learn some self preservation Isabella. Otherwise, your life here will be
very hard.”
How could she have been so stupid? He wondered. Didn’t she know what was taking place in those
rooms tonight? She didn’t think people would talk about her late night visit to the Ambassador’s
chambers to see Jacob Black? Of course she didn’t, he reminded himself. She’s a convent girl who
was doing as she was told expecting that the Lady employing her was looking out for her best
interests.
Before he knew what he was doing, he had grabbed her arm and pulled her into the curtained
alcove, giving her a shake. “Do you have any idea what could have happened to you in there?”
He watched as her eyes filled with tears. “I can’t be sent away,” she sobbed. “If I disobey, the Lady
Tanya will send me back to Santa Maria. One of the other ladies will stay in my place. I cannot go
back there,” she pleaded. “I won’t.”
“You will not go back to Naples,” he swore to her and mentally cursed himself as he was saying it.
He was playing with fire and knew it. Isabella wasn’t his. Isabella would never be his and he should
not be alone with her right now. He was doing the same damage to her reputation that being alone
with Jacob Black would have without the comfort of a safety net should they be caught. “I will not
let you be sent back to Naples,” he swore. “Give me the note you were to take to the ambassador.
I’ll deliver it for you.”
“Thank you Your Grace,” she nodded and handed him the note. “For everything you’ve done for
me. I can never repay you for your kindness.”
“No repayment is necessary,” he muttered and pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to prevent
the smell of her from affecting him the way it was. “Now go, before you end up the subject of
gossip that is undeserved.”
“We are already the subject of gossip Your Grace,” she muttered as she reached for the curtain and
he felt his heart drop. Of course they were. He’d heard the speculation that he’d brought her to be
his mistress but he’d hoped that Isabella had not heard the whispers as well. Or that she was naive
enough to think that some part of him didn’t desire that exact scenario to take place.
“Then leave before something takes place that at least one of us regrets,” he snapped as he kept
his eyes closed tight.
“I would regret nothing with you, Your Grace,” she whispered and he heard the curtain slide open
slightly.
“You cannot mean that,” he whispered back.
“According to who?” She whispered again before he heard her slippers scrape across the floors and
scurry back toward the Lady Tanya’s room.
Pounding his fist against the stone wall of the alcove he let his ragged breathing return to normal
and let out a muffled curse. They were the words of a brave girl, a girl who felt she owed him
repayment. They were the false bravado of someone who did not could not understand what
she was actually saying.
Smoothing the note that had been crumpled in his fist he stepped out of the alcove and made his
way to the Ambassador’s chambers. He shook his head and tried to think of anything that would
scour the image of her downcast eyes and her sweet smell from his mind.
Chapter 8.
Edward stalked toward the Ambassador’s chambers and tried to fight the swell of irritation in his
chest. He didn’t want to be here, didn’t want to go into that room full of sweating whores and
desperate men. He didn’t want to see what would be so willingly available to him if he wanted to
reach out and grab it because right now, this second, he didn’t think he’d be able to prevent
himself from grabbing. Grabbing someone who knew exactly what he was and exactly what he
wanted with no expectations of what would come after.
“I would regret nothing with you,” she’d told him. Except, he pulled his fingers through his hair,
except she didn’t know what it was he wanted from her. She was naïve and innocent, she thought
he wanted love and marriage, romantic walks in the gardens and courting her properly.
You do want that you idiot, Edward reminded himself. You want to love her and court her properly.
You want to bring her flowers and hold her hand in public.
I can’t have that with her, Edward growled to himself. I can never have that. All I can have is
hidden trysts and dirty secrets. She’d never be able to walk in public with me. All I could give her is
shame. My heart and shame, which is nothing to give a woman you love.
He let his fist fall sharply against the heavy outer door to the Ambassador’s chambers and averted
his eyes when a buxom blonde opened the door for him. “Your Grace,” she purred seductively. “I
didn’t expect we’d have the pleasure of your company this evening.”
“I have a message for the Ambassador,” Edward tried to keep his tone neutral. “I will not bother
anyone long.”
“Your presence is never a bother Your Grace,” she ran a finger along the front of his chest. “We’d
all be happy to make you comfortable if you chose to stay.”
“I think it would be best if I just met with the Ambassador and then left,” Edward closed his eyes
and tried to resist the smell of her. Rose oil, he noticed. She was heavily coated in rose oil and
instead of being seductive it made his stomach lurch. It was like standing in the middle of a rose
garden on a hot, summer day. The air was too close and he thought that he would be sick because
of it.
“Graciela,” the woman snapped her fingers as she pulled him inside the Ambassador’s apartments.
“Retrieve his Lordship the Ambassador for the Archbishop.”
“Of course,” the smaller woman said as she scurried from her place in the lap of one of the men at
arms and toward the main sleeping chamber.
“Wine Your Grace?”
“A glass would be nice, thank you,” Edward replied and was relieved that the woman stepped away
from him so that he could get a fresh breath of air that wasn’t scented with roses. Instead though,
the musky scent of sex filled his nose and the erection he’d been trying to will away from Isabella’s
presence only became more pronounced.
“Archbishop!” A shirtless Ambassador stepped into the main salon just as Edward’s companion
returned with the wine. He took the goblet from her and then thankfully turned to the man who’d
unintentionally saved him from being saturated in her smell.
“Ambassador,” he inclined his head. “I’ve brought you a message from the Lady Denali.”
“She’s got you running her errands now Archbishop?” The Ambassador eyed him shrewdly.
“Not exactly,” Edward rolled his eyes and let the side of his mouth lift up in amusement. There was
no love lost for the Lady Denali in these chambers. “I was on my way to my own apartments when
I saw the Lady Denali’s attendant, Isabella, coming here with the message. I thought it best for
everyone’s comfort, and her reputation, if I delivered it instead.”
“Ah yes,” the Ambassador chuckled, “the lovely Isabella. It seems she’s the only one not aware of
the current situation. Thank you for considering everyone, Your Grace. It has prevented poor
Isabella quite a lot of embarrassment and a rather delicate situation for me.”
“The current situation?” Edward raised an eyebrow and took a sip of his wine. “I wasn’t aware of
any situation. Perhaps you’d care to enlighten me? As Isabella’s priest, of course, so that I can
provide counsel.”
“She needs good counsel,” the Ambassador nodded. “Step into my library and we’ll discuss the
Lady Denali and her ‘plans’ for Isabella at length.”
“Indeed,” Edward nodded curtly as he followed the other man into the imposing library.
“It seems,” the Ambassador took a large drink of his wine, “that the Lady Denali has decided that
my nephew Jacob will become betrothed to the lovely Isabella, regardless of what method she
must use to achieve this fact.”
“Your nephew is not interested in Isabella?” Edward tried to keep the skepticism out of his voice.
He knew Jacob Black was interested, he’d seen how the other man looked at her.
“Oh,” the Ambassador shook his head, “he’s interested in her. Yet, Isabella is not the sort of girl to
marry him off to. Once he’s married, if he wishes to keep her I will not object. No one will blame
him for linking himself to her as a patron, but as a wife?”
“What exactly is wrong with linking himself to an orphaned convent girl?” Edward tried to keep the
snappish tone in his voice to a minimum. “She has no property to speak of, of course, but it seems
unlikely that a secretary would marry a Duchess anyway.”
“My dear Archbishop,” the Ambassador chuckled. “Do you not know?”
“Not know?” Edward growled. “I know that Isabella Swan is a virtuous young lady who has spent
her entire existence before now in a convent and anyone who attempts to claim less about her is
lying.”
“I never implied that she wasn’t a virtuous girl,” the Ambassador smirked. “Perhaps with the right
persuasion the della Rovere may be willing to grant her a small piece of property as a dowry, but
the scandal associated with her would never do.”
“The della Rovere?” Edward looked at him skeptically. “Why would the della Rovere give Isabella
Swan,” Edward stopped suddenly. La Mosca Bianca. The della Rovere family. There were whispered
rumors about where the child had ended up. Officially it had been a still birth, but still the rumors
had persisted.
“It seems the situation has suddenly made itself plain to you,” the Ambassador remarked.
“You have no proof,” Edward stuttered.
“I have enough and any noble family in Italy could find the same if they bothered to look. And they
will if the Lady Denali attempts to betroth her into a noble house.”
“You’re certain?”
“As certain as anyone can be about something that’s been hidden for so long. There is always
someone to tell tales if the gold in your purse is heavy enough.”
“I see,” Edward nodded slowly. “It’s good that I prevented Isabella from delivering her note then.
It wouldn’t do for anyone’s reputation to be tarnished in such a way.”
“Quite,” the Ambassador nodded.
“I’ll take my leave now and allow you to deal with the Lady Denali and her meddling as you will.
Although, I must add one thing.”
“One thing?”
“Isabella is a chaste young woman. I highly doubt she’ll be accommodating to the idea of a patron.
I wouldn’t use that as a promise to hold out before your nephew.”
“We’ll see,” the Ambassador chuckled. “We will in fact see.”
Edward made his way through the orgy taking place in the front salon and pushed out into the
blessedly clear hallway. He should have known from her name. It was such an obvious clue as to
the nature of her parentage that he was almost ashamed of the Mother Superior who had thought
of it. He had seen the scandalous paintings of her mother, and now that he realized, he could see
not only the resemblance to her but also to her rumored lover, Giovanni della Rovere. Her build
and her coloring were all identical to the paintings of La Mosca Bianca but the chocolate eyes and
the slight tilt to her nose was a trait that announced her connection to the della Rovere family more
than anything else ever could.
Isabella was the rumored daughter of Rome’s most famous courtesans and one of the sons of a
prominent ruling family. La Mosca Bianca. He’d been to see the picture of her done by la
Gentileschi for the Casa Buonarrotti’s ceiling, swelling as the Virgin with a bastard daughter in her
stomach. He’d also seen the naves and the frescos of her from before that, when she had been
Allori’s muse for both Judith and the Magdalene. The woman had been a scandal whose salons
were so famous, whose company was so desired, that she was welcomed in all the best houses of
Rome simply because ladies could not bear the disgrace of her snub.
She led what some would call a charmed life before La Mosca crossed paths with the della Rovere.
Did Isabella know? Edward wondered. Had anyone told her about the scandal she was a part of?
Who she was?
He swallowed hard then as he reached his chambers and hurried inside. Laying his head against
the door, he took a deep breath. Surely no one would tell such an innocent girl such a horrid tale?
No one would ever tell her that her birth ultimately led to her father’s suicide and her mother’s
disgraceful death.
Renata, La Mosca Bianca, was the most famous courtesan in Rome. Beloved of painters and poets,
she had already suffered several scandals attached to her name. The church had threatened to ex
communicate her most recent lover, the painter Allori, for using her as a model for several religious
frescos he had done for the church. His version of her as the Magdalene had been a scandal so
shocking that there was talk that the Pope would demand have him arrested and placed to the
question. Instead, Allori had fled and like all cowards, had left his muse to face Roman society
alone.
Renata had done well for herself in Allori’s absence and had cultivated a large following to her
weekly salons. The castrati Tempeatto was a constant companion and with his help she’d become a
sensation in the underside of Roman high society. That was how she met Giovanni della Rovere,
third son of the house of the della Rovere, a family wealthy enough that it had been able to gift
him with land and not force him into the priesthood like most.
Within days he was rarely seen outside of her presence. By the end of the month she had quarters
in his villa where he stayed rather than returning to the bed of his wife. Before the year had ended
he had announced her pregnancy and acknowledged her unborn child as his own. He demanded
that his devastated wife be moved to a convent in Savona ‘to rest’ because the weather in Rome
made her unwell. For all intents, he had made Renata his wife in act but not name, while another
woman languished in neglect. There were rumors that he was seeking to have his legitimate heirs
bypassed, and if that proved impossible, assuring his children with Renata an equal share of his
estate. Rome had been aflame with the scandal.
Then the stupid woman refused to have a proper lying in. She was seen constantly in public, belly
pushed proudly out before her, in dresses that could have doubled for ships sails. Instead of being
ostracized for it, she became a fashion sensation and soon all the women in Rome were wearing
dresses in the same style. To be glowing and pregnant was considered to be a beautiful thing
because of Renata and she gloried in it.
Then, two weeks before the most anticipated birth in Rome was supposed to take place, the Lady
della Rovere returned home. No one would, or possibly could, tell exactly what happened next.
Renata had gone into labor early and the official story was that her son had been stillborn, a fate
brought about by his mother’s indelicate behavior. Rumors persisted that it wasn’t the case and
that the child had been secreted away. The Lady della Rovere had only fanned the flames by
sending men from her father’s family, the Calabri, to search the monasteries and estates that the
Rovere were patrons to. Nothing came of the search and Renata had been glimpsed in public
wearing the full black of mourning along with Giovanni. A quiet, private funeral had been held for
the lost child and the next morning all three of them Giovanni, Renata and the Lady della Rovere
had been found dead. Rumors abounded that it was a suicide pact between the lovers, devastated
over the loss of their child, and that his wife had followed along rather than risk the shame of his
actions. Other’s said the wife had killed her husband and his consort before committing to her own
death. No one knew for certain and while the scandal slowly faded the story never truly died away.
Every courtesan who became popular was wary of upsetting the wife of her patron. Every wealthy
man was careful of his mistress and his wife’s wrath. Some things seem important and are almost
instantly forgotten. Others seem trivial but their memory lingers on for years. The Black Swan’s
death had been one of those that lingered.
Could the Ambassador be right? Edward wondered as he curled up around the feather pillows in his
bed. No one had ever actually seen the child except for the midwife and her assistant that declared
it stillborn. No one knew for certain that the child was dead. Neither did they know for certain that
it was a boy. It could have just as easily been a daughter. Could they have lied to protect a girl
child from the wrath of an insane wife?
Why would they place her in Santa Maria though? Why not a convent in Rome? A convent that had
the della Rovere patronage? Why Naples and a convent patronized by the Farnese? Edward had
more questions than he could ever hope to answer and he knew that he couldn’t ask Isabella about
any of them, she was too fragile for such a conversation.
“Bella,” he groaned as he thought about her. His greatest fear and his greatest hope were taking
place at the exact same time. If she truly was the child of Renata and Giovanni della Rovere then
she was too scandalous of a bride for any of the noble houses to consider, even for minor family
members. Meanwhile, the Lady Denali would never waste such a precious resource by giving her to
a commoner. That meant he would never be forced to marry Isabella to another man and watch
her with him. But the Lady Denali would not leave her as a chaste and unused member of her
household if she couldn’t find her a husband. If Isabella was the child of the Black Swan, her
potential attractiveness as a mistress would increase more than her attractiveness as a wife had
declined. Men would still want her and the Lady Denali would still use her for her own designs. He
would never have to say the words that sealed Isabella to another man before the eyes of God but
he would be forced to watch as someone else took the steps to do the thing he’d been both dying
to do and avoiding all at the same time. Eventually someone would become her lover.
Chapter 9.
Isabella was the daughter of La Mosca Blanca. She was a bastard child. That alone wouldn’t
prevent her from a good marriage in society as long as she was quietly recognized. Rosalie’s
brother had married the bastard daughter of a lower ranking Farnese and his long term concubine
without a second thought. The Hale’s had even been behind the scheme, thinking rightly that two
ties to the powerful Farnese would serve them better than one.
Isabella though, Edward sighed. His Bella wasn’t recognized. According to all the reports, she was a
male child whom had died at birth. She was the child of a scandal. She wasn’t born of a long term
concubine but of a courtesan. The resemblance to the della Rovere was startling but not enough for
them to claim her.
That was the conundrum, Edward decided. If she were the legitimate orphan of peasants who
happened to become a lady in waiting to Tanya, then she would be a suitable bride for a lower
ranking member of the nobility because of her beauty, regardless of her lack of connections. If she
were the recognized bastard of a noble house, she would be a suitable bride for men of higher rank
because of her connections, regardless of her substantial beauty. As it stood now, she was
considered totally unsuitable to be anyone’s bride but would be treasured as a mistress because of
both her beauty and the connections that the rumors surrounding her would bring once she was
launched into society.
She deserved better than the hand that fate had dealt her. She deserved a husband that would
love her, the protection of a noble house. She would have none of those things in Volterra. His
heart clenched as he began to consider possibilities from among his own family and connections.
The Farnese held more power and stature than the Volturi clan. The connections to the della
Rovere would be appreciated but unnecessary and they would be able to disregard any scandal
that was whispered about. She would have to marry a member of the lesser nobility, no one who
could ever hold a significant title, but still had the wealth and name to keep her protected and safe.
Someone who would be kind to her, he wouldn’t allow her to marry a tyrant. She would need
someone who could share her love of culture and learning, a proper gentleman and not one of the
rough hewn peasants that masqueraded now as nobles. Bella deserved every luxury and
refinement.
Carlos, Edward thought to himself and smiled. He could write to his father tomorrow and explain
the situation. Attempt to reconcile the Farnese to the idea of marrying the daughter of La Mosca
Blanca to the unmarriageable Carlos. Carlos would be the perfect suitor for his Bella. The
handsome, kind, cultured son of a Farnese banker, he would treat her like the delicate beauty she
was and proudly show her off in society, uncaring about any stigma attached to his name. He
would be the perfect husband kind, considerate, witty, and completely unwilling to act upon his
marriage vows once the act of consummation had taken place.
Edward shook his head and chuckled slightly. He should be ashamed of himself. In good conscience
as a priest he could marry Carlos to no one, knowing as he did that the man was homosexual
and that his matrimonial vows would be a lie. It was not just that Carlos was stubbornly resistant
to the idea he had confessed to Edward that he physically could not stomach the idea and when
attempted, had forced himself to think of other men before getting violently ill afterwards. He
should be ashamed of himself. He knew Bella deserved a true husband and not a sham, but that
didn’t stop him from entertaining the idea briefly. Carlos would be the one man that he would
happily marry his Bella off to.
He felt the bed dip next to him and tried not to groan. The Ambassador had sent one of his guests
to keep him company. It wasn’t the first time this had happened and it always made Edward feel
horribly awkward. Rolling over, he braced himself to play the cad and send the poor woman out of
his bed.
“Edward,” Isabella muttered huskily and he felt his head jerk up in surprise.
“Bella?”
“What were you laughing at just now?” She whispered seductively and pressed herself against him
underneath the coverlet. She was, he swallowed, completely naked and pressed against him.
“Your marriage,” he blurted out and tried to scoot away from her.
“I’m not getting married,” Bella purred in response.
“You will one day,” Edward let the coverlet fall between them, hoping that she would stay on her
side of the makeshift barricade and his rebellious body would stay on his.
“Are you intending to leave the priesthood?” Bella cocked her head to the side and peered up at
him from beneath her lashes.
“No,” Edward stuttered.
“Then I have no intention of marrying,” Bella whispered as she scooted across the bed and pressed
her hips against him. “I belong to you.”
“Bella,” he moaned lightly and tried to pull away from her again, his body fighting against his mind
and attempting to press closer. “I can’t marry you.”
“Then don’t marry me,” she pressed her lips against his own and let her fingers slide up to twine in
his hair.
“What I could give you,” he panted as she released his lips and began to nuzzle against his jaw.
“What I could give you isn’t proper. What I can offer you isn’t the life you want.”
“What I want is you,” she insisted breathlessly as she began to lick down the side of his neck
slowly. Her upper leg wrapped around his own as she pressed his hips into her own. “I don’t care
about anything else. I love you.”
That whispered confession was his undoing. She loved him. She knew what he couldn’t give her
and she didn’t care. She wanted to be with him in any way she could and wouldn’t ask for more.
Why shouldn’t you have her? His mind howled. Take what she’s giving you. Take what any other
man, any other priest, wouldn’t hesitate for a second to claim.
“Mine,” Edward growled as he pressed her onto her back and loomed over the top of her. He
pressed his lips against hers and nipped his teeth against her bottom lip. Working his mouth
roughly down the slender column of her throat he took gentle nips out of the alabaster skin in front
of him.
“Mine,” he repeated as he swept his tongue along the arch of her collar bone.
“Yours,” she panted as his head dipped lower, his mouth worrying the ripe flesh of her breasts.
“Mine,” he confirmed as his mouth moved lower, kissing the underside of the swell and then
working down her ribs. He pressed a gentle kiss into her navel and glanced up into her face.
“Yours,” she purred, her eyes smoldering as she looked down at him.
“Mine,” Edward panted as he kissed along the curve of her hip, working his way down her thigh to
lick the delicate white skin behind her knee.
“Mine,” he groaned as he reached the delicate instep of her left foot and placed a reverent kiss
there, “only mine.”
“Mine always,” he whispered piously as he felt her reach down to tug at his unruly mess of hair and
she pulled him up to kiss her swollen lips again.
“Always,” Bella murmured as she shifted her hips so that they slid together effortlessly. Edward
clenched his fists into the silken sheets next to her ears and pulled back slightly at the feel of her
barrier. Lowering his head, he kissed gently up the side of her neck until he found the sensitive
spot just behind her ear.
“I love you,” he whispered and then bit down sharply as he thrust his hips forward so that he was
completely encased inside of her.
“Yours,” Bella gasped as she arched her body backwards against the bed, “just yours.”
He bit his lip and tried not to cry out in ecstasy as she pressed further against him. Gritting his
teeth, he wrapped his arms around her to cradle her close to him. Pressing all of her against him
he set a slow pace, rocking against her and placing gentle kisses along her neck and at the tender,
bruising spot behind her ear.
“Love you,” he reassured her in a steady litany. “I love you so much. I adore you. I worship you.
Mine.”
“Yours,” Bella whispered softly and let her fingers roam through his hair, pressing her hips against
his with each thrust of their movement. “Love you.”
“I’ll never be away from you again,” Edward swore. “Mine now. I promise. Mine.”
“Yours,” Bella nodded slightly and with a few more thrusts began to tremble in his arms. Gripping
his hair tighter, she pressed her face into the crook of his shoulder and let out a high pitched cry as
she tensed around him. It was too much and Edward felt the shock of it run up his spine as he
snapped his hips forward and exploded in a wordless cry of pleasure.
“Mine,” Edward confirmed as he pulled slightly away from her and rolled onto his back. “I love
you,” he repeated again before pulling her to sleep cradled at his side.
A sharp rap on his chamber door startled Edward awake and he immediately looked to make sure
that his angel was covered. She wasn’t lying next to him. Had she gone back to her own room?
Had she not realized what he’d meant by his declaration?
“Your Grace?” His personal manservant called out from behind the thick door.
“Yes? What is it Alfonso?”
“Are you well Your Grace? I just heard you cry out in your sleep.”
“I’m fine,” Edward groaned as he sat up. The bed was cold and when he looked at the clock he
realized he had only been in his chamber for less than an hour. “Perhaps you could tell me about
the young woman who just left?”
“Young woman? There’s been no one in your chambers at all this evening your Grace. Are you sure
you’re well?”
“No,” Edward groaned. “I am not well. I am haunted by dreams. Worry yourself no more tonight
about it. I shall be fine.”
“As you wish your Grace,” Alfonso replied and Edward heard his steps retreating slowly away from
the door. It had been a dream. She had never really been there. Looking down at the rumpled bed,
he saw the evidence of his complete undoing in the stain. She wasn’t his and heaven help him, he
wanted her. Yet he was no closer to solving any of their problems than he’d been when he entered
the room. She was still unwanted as a wife, untouchable to him as a woman, and the most
desirable thing he’d ever seen. The only thing that he had managed to resolve tonight was that he
loved her and she was still just beyond his reach.
Chapter 10.
“Lady Denali,” Edward hurried out of the main dining hall after Tanya, trying to catch her attention.
She turned smoothly to look at him.
“Archbishop?”
“May I speak with you?”
“Of course, Your Grace,” Tanya purred. “What service can I provide for you?”
“A walk in the gardens perhaps?” Edward suggested and tried to fight the recoil in his stomach
from the very thought of spending time with her. “I was hoping we could discuss your upcoming
nuptials and that I could provide some spiritual guidance.”
“That’s most kind Your Grace,” Tanya batted her eyes at him slightly and took his arm as they
stepped through one of the castle doors and into the main garden. He tried not to wince away from
her touch. “The nuptials have been lingering in my mind.”
“I’m sure they have,” Edward agreed. He was sure, in fact, that the access to Volterra’s treasure
rooms had lingered heavily on her mind now that the Count was keeping her on such a short leash
financially.
“Have you decided on a topic for your sermon?” Tanya broke in, looking at him speculatively.
“I have indeed,” Edward smiled. Best to start sweettalking her now he decided. It wasn’t as if the
theme of the mass would hold much importance. She wasn’t to become a bride for the first time, or
even the second, nor was she becoming the lady of a sizable and important estate just an
extremely wealthy one. “I thought it would be best, considering the circumstances, if the sermon
reflected the changing nature of love as its participants grow.”
“Really?” Tanya raised an eyebrow at him. “Go on.”
“Well,” Edward swallowed. “Love for the young and inexperienced is more about passion and
romance but as two people become older and wiser the love they feel changes. They grow together
and learn to respect each other. They nurture each other and in their relationship they become
equals even if they are not by the standards of society. A strong man is secure enough to love an
equally powerful woman and she is equally secure in her love for him. As couples grow they
become more a team of horses working together to pull a load and less like a master and his
servant.”
“I see,” Tanya nodded. “While I can’t say I appreciate the comparison with a draft horse, I can
overlook the symbolism and see the heart of your argument. That is a very revolutionary
standpoint to take Archbishop. One I fear many noble men may not agree with.”
“I have only learned it from watching my own father and the regard in which he holds my mother.”
“I wholeheartedly agree with your standpoint Edward,” Tanya nodded. “Your good parents are role
models for all of us in our behavior and I would be pleased to have their guidance before me as I
start this new enterprise.”
“Wonderful,” Edward nodded, feeling only slightly guilty that Tanya had just compared herself to
his own sainted mother. “I’m glad you approve. I was hoping we could talk about something else
as well?”
“I think I have an idea as to what this may be about,” Tanya smiled indulgently. “Could you wish to
discuss the lovely little Swan in my care?”
“You must quit trying to pair her with the Ambassador of Spain’s nephew. He intends nothing
honorable by her.”
“Really?” Tanya couldn’t hide her amusement at his words. It was as he’d suspected she already
knew about Isabella’s situation. “And you’re concerned because you want the young lady for
yourself?”
“Of course not!” Edward lied. “She is a girl of good virtue and Jacob Black’s intentions are vile and
a debasement of good Christian morals.”
“And what would you have me do?” Tanya raised an eyebrow at him speculatively. “She’s
unmarriageable for almost everyone of the noble class.”
“There may be a lesser noble amongst the Farnese to take her,” Edward suggested. “It would make
a strong alliance for you.”
“That is true,” Tanya shrugged mischievously. “I may be able to find other suitors as well, but the
alliance with Spain would increase my own power here in Volterra greatly. Besides, it isn’t as if
anyone would fault the girl for becoming his mistress. If she’d simply learn a little grace she could
become legendary as a courtesan, more so even than her mother. The power and influence she
could wield for me would be enormous.”
“She is not a pawn in your game for power,” Edward growled.
“Of course she is,” Tanya snickered. “Haven’t you learned yet, my dear Archbishop? We’re all
pawns. I have been a pawn to my father, my husbands, and now to the Este. You are a pawn to
your father and the Church. When your father dies you’ll become a pawn to your dear brother
Emmett and his barren shrew of a wife. Isabella is my pawn, Edward, and before you protest think
of it like this she’s my pawn because you made her so.”
“What will it cost?” Edward asked bluntly as they reached the back wall of the garden.
“Are you sure you don’t just want her for yourself Edward?” Tanya purred. “I see how you look at
her. I know you want her. Why would you marry her to another? Make me a suitable offer and I’ll
have her delivered to your rooms before nightfall.”
“She deserves more than I can give her,” Edward replied truthfully. “She deserves a life I cannot
create for her and I will not shame her to what I have to give.”
“How noble,” Tanya mocked. “You’ll give her to another to keep her honor. Even though in
reality my little Swan would willingly give herself to you and bear the shame of it with a smile.”
“What is it you want?” Edward managed to grind out between clenched teeth.
“I need a son,” Tanya spat viciously.
“You’ll be married soon,” Edward countered. “Then you can make your son with God’s blessing.”
“I have it on low authority of the best kind that his Lordship, try as he might, will not be fathering
anything on me.”
“And you’ve heard this vile rumor from whom?”
“Both of his mistresses. It seems my Lord was injured in a tournament 10 years ago.”
“I had heard that,” Edward nodded. “He took a terrible jousting injury.”
“He’s fathered no children since,” Tanya hissed, “neither high born nor low.”
“He cannot consummate the marriage?” Edward raised an eyebrow at her.
“I’ve been given to understand that he can consummate it in the most basic sense of the word,”
Tanya managed through her own gritted teeth, “but that even that requires significant coaxing on
the part of his bed mate. His seed is weak though and no children are brought to fruit.”
“Your marriage will be a difficult one,” Edward consoled sarcastically.
“I’ll speak plainly,” Tanya growled. “I need to be heavy with child soon after my marriage for my
own safety and well being here in Volterra. His Lordship is unable and, I’ve been given to
understand that beyond our consummation, very unwilling to help in this matter. You desire that
Isabella be respectfully married and not the mistress of a Spanish pup. Are we agreed to that?”
“We are agreed,” Edward said tightly.
“Fulfill my request and I shall fulfill yours.” Tanya announced.
“Pardon?”
“Once I’m with child, Isabella will be betrothed to a member of the nobility within a fortnight and
I’ll have her married properly within the month.”
“And how do you propose we arrange this? Am I to be your pimp?”
“Of course not, my dear Edward,” Tanya patted him on the shoulder. “You are a man, I am a
woman, and consider this as a bonus it will help clear the unattainable, virginal, young Isabella
from your mind. Do we have an accord?”
Did they? Edward wondered. Could he actually do what she was suggesting? It would give Bella a
better future, a life of respect and comfort, every luxury. Could he not do it? “I must pray on it,”
Edward announced.
“Of course,” Tanya nodded. “Do not linger too long Your Grace. As you know my wedding takes
place in a week and, so far, Mr. Black is Isabella’s most persistent suitor.”
“We shall meet tomorrow for confession and discuss it then,” Edward nodded, a sinking feeling
lingering in the pit of his stomach.
“Of course Your Grace,” Tanya agreed. “If you’ll excuse me, I believe I need to retire to my rooms
and rest. The sun is very draining.”
“Good day Milady Tanya,” he nodded politely and fought the urge to snap the woman’s neck and
leave her body near the back wall of the garden. He wouldn’t be suspected of her death after all,
there were many in Volterra that wanted the Count’s future bride dead before she wielded power.
“Your Grace,” she smirked before floating away, leaving him alone in the garden to think.
Edward took a deep breath and pinched the bridge of his nose. The woman was unbearable and
she had him in a position to do her bidding. The bitch, he swore silently. Everything he’d done had
fallen apart in regards to Isabella. She’d needed a home away from the convent and he’d thought
that it would give him the chance to be in her presence if he brought her to Volterra. He’d known it
would be better to have her sent to his mother or even Rosalie as a maid but he’d been selfish and
wanted her near him. Now she belonged to Tanya and she was prepared to disgrace the poor girl
for her own selfish ends.
Unless, Edward shuddered at the thought. The thought of a woman had never repulsed him as it
did now. That vicious, life sucking harpy in his bed? Carrying his child? It would be an ongoing
torment. He gagged and quickly vomited the contents of his breakfast. How long did it take to
determine if a woman was with child? A month? Two? Longer? Would he be forced to share her bed
every one of those nights? He retched behind another mulberry bush and began to heave when his
stomach was empty.
He wouldn’t be able to bear it, he decided. He physically would be unable to bear such a burden as
bedding the Lady Tanya. There had to be another way. He’d send a rider to Naples immediately
and explain the situation to Emmett and his father. They were good men and they’d be horrified at
what Tanya was suggesting. They’d find his Bella a place in their home where she would be safe.
He felt his cheeks flush with shame as he realized that he would be forced to explain exactly why
this matter concerned him so greatly. Emmett would simply tease him in the way of all big brothers
but Edward knew, while the other man would remain silent, his father would be disappointed that
he was so weak in his vows as to let it come to this.
There was simply no choice though, he decided. His precious Bella’s safety and happiness came
before his own pride. His father would help find her a place and would make an offer to Count
Marcus that he wouldn’t allow his bride to refuse. No one could afford to offend the Farnese and
their strong allies in the Church.
“Your Grace,” he heard a panicked cry and turned to see Brother Mike waving to him frantically
from the garden off of their chapel. Picking up the skirts of his cassock he hurried toward the other
man. On the bench in front of the other man he could see the battered form of a young woman in
the white of Lady Tanya’s household and his heart clenched.
“What happened?” He bellowed and then stopped as he saw the frizzy curls matted in blood. It
wasn’t his Bella. It was one of the other ones. The tiny one, Jessica her name was silly and vain
but harmless.
“I found her lying in the pathway,” Brother Mike panted and then looked down at the blood
covering his own cassock weakly. “I didn’t touch her, Your Grace, besides to bring her to a bench. I
was going to run for the physician but then I saw you.”
Edward swallowed hard as he took in the girl’s appearance. Her face was battered and bruised to
the point of being unrecognizable and he could see the dirt smears covering her dress. Her shoes
were missing and he could see the blood seeping through her skirt. Stepping forward he reached
out for the hem of her dress and she flinched. “Shhh,” he consoled her. “I won’t hurt you.” Lifting
the hem slightly he glanced up and found what he was expecting long smears of blood between
her already bruised and mottling thighs.
Dropping her skirt back down, he turned his head away in disgust and looked at Brother Mike. The
other man grimaced and he nodded, confirming Brother Mike’s suspicions. Whoever had attacked
her had defiled her, quite violently, as well. “Take her to my chambers,” Edward managed to choke
out. “I’ll call for the court physician and then seek out Lady Tanya to let her know what’s taken
place.”
“Yes Your Grace,” Brother Mike nodded humbly. “The poor lamb.”
“Jessica,” Edward leaned down next to her head and pushed a bloody curl away from her cheek.
“Do you know who did this to you? Who hurt you this way?”
“Black,” she whispered and Edward felt the words as if they were a punch to the gut.
“Take her to my chambers,” he told Brother Mike curtly. “She’ll be most comfortable there.”
Turning, he stalked in the direction of the Lady Tanya’s apartments. Jacob Black had defiled one of
her ladies in waiting. The Jacob Black that wanted his own Bella. The Jacob Black that Tanya
wanted to align herself with through his Bella. He wouldn’t let that man near his precious Bella. It
could have been, he stopped and tried to pull air into his burning lungs. It could have been his
Bella lying there. That woman could have just as easily been his own Bella.
Storming toward the Lady Tanya’s apartments, he saw her flitting along the corridor, lost in her
own mind. Grabbing her by the arm he shoved her roughly into an alcove and pressed her against
the wall. Wide, velvety eyes looked up at him in shock and her pink lips parted sweetly. Crushing
her to him, he pressed his mouth against her own and breathed in a sigh of surrender and relief. It
wasn’t his Bella that had been brutally attacked. His Bella was safe.
Pulling away from her, he looked into her confused eyes. He was too relieved to see that she was
well to worry about the shame he should feel for how much he’d enjoyed her lips against his own.
“There has been an accident.” He announced curtly as he let go of her. “Go find your mistress and
let her know to meet me in my chambers. Hurry.”
“Your Grace?” She stammered and he could see the loveliest of peach blushes in her cheeks.
“Go now,” Edward turned her toward the corridor and gave her a gentle push.
“I ”
“Go,” Edward hung his head for a moment and took a deep breath. He would send a rider to his
father as soon as the current situation had been handled. If nothing else had been made clear to
him it was that Isabella could no longer stay at Volterra Castle.
Chapter 11.
He looked in the mirror distractedly and straightened his cassock. The mass wasn’t a hard one,
he’d said it several times before the first for his brother Emmett and Rosalie and then he had
actually confused the words. Rosalie had been enraged but Emmett had just laughed about it in
good humor when he’d asked if Rosalie would now take Emmett to be her bride. He wasn’t sure if
she’d ever really forgiven him for that gaff but everyone else in Naples had found it hilarious that
the 16 year old Bishop had made a mistake on his first ever mass.
“Ready Your Grace?” Ben asked quietly from his place in the room, preparing the sacraments for
the mass.
“As I’ll ever be,” Edward sighed. “Is it wrong that I feel some guilt about this wedding?”
“Why?”
“I shouldn’t feel as though I’m cursing the Lord Marcus to a lifetime of agony when I give him his
bride.”
“He’s not a prize himself,” Ben pointed out. “He’s cruel, vicious, and according to all accounts he’ll
not need the Lady Tanya to keep his bed warm. A man committed to adultery doesn’t exactly
deserve a good and virtuous wife.”
“It’s good he’s marrying the Lady Tanya then,” Edward smiled.
“As long as he can keep his mind from her ladies I think it will be a suitable match,” Ben grumbled.
“Away from her ladies?” Edward looked at the young seminarian speculatively. Ben wasn’t a
member of the nobility so his place in the priesthood had not been bought as easily but he still
knew the other man had not come to the decision on his own.
“He stares too much at the Lady Angela,” Ben snapped. “Your Grace.”
“I see,” Edward nodded. “That is a concern.”
“And at the Lady Isabella,” Ben added and Edward caught the gleam in Ben’s eye.
“That is not as much of a concern. He can’t very well spy on her in Naples at the Villa Presara can
he?”
“Your Grace?” Ben looked confused.
“Come, it’s time to marry the Lord Marcus and the Lady Tanya in this most unholy union.”
He stepped into the chapel and the sight before him made his hands shake. Tears pooled in his
eyes and he gasped for breath. She was still here. Dressed in a midnight blue gown with pearls in
her hair, she was kneeling in the front row with the Lady Angela, prepared to help the Lady Tanya
as needed during the mass. There was a mistake. Setting down the instruments in his hands he
pinched his own arm lightly beneath the cassock and then looked back over at the first row. She
wasn’t supposed to be here, the coach for Naples had left yesterday morning with a veiled Lady in
waiting inside of it. Why had she not gone?
Stepping in front of the altar he could see Jacob Black two rows behind Bella, licking his lips with a
satisfied gleam. Rage filled his heart as he began the mass. That animal was staring at his Bella,
the Bella that was supposed to be in Naples by now and in the care of his family. Edward began the
repetitious words of the mass without thinking and soon led Count Marcus and Lady Tanya through
their vows. When he glanced up he saw Bella staring at him, mumbling the words along with the
Lady Tanya.
“Husband and wife,” he named them solemnly as he stared hard at the flush covering her from
cheek to neckline of her gown. Words he would eventually be forced to say for her, a seal he would
put onto her life, but never with him. It could never be with him.
As the married couple led everyone else into the dining hall he rushed forward and grabbed Bella’s
arm. “Why are you not in Naples?”
“I sent Jessica in my place,” she answered calmly.
“Why?” He raged. “That place was meant for you. It was meant to keep you safe from whomever,”
he swallowed because they had not told anyone who Jessica had named in her attack, “from
whoever is attacking young women of virtue.”
“The Lady Tanya was going to send her away,” Bella snapped.
“She’d have been fine in the Convent of Santa Maria,” Edward shook her arm harshly.
“She wasn’t sending her back to the Convent,” Bella snarled at him and he watched as color
flooded her cheeks again. “She was putting her on the street. Jessica needed the safety of a place
to live more than I needed protection from the likes of Jacob Black!”
“What?” His voice echoed through the chapel.
“She told me who attacked her,” Bella said quietly. “She told me what he did. I am not so naive
that I do not know what takes place between a man and a woman or that sometimes it is taken by
force.”
“You should be that naive,” Edward spat angrily.
“I wouldn’t have left anyway,” Bella said quietly and moved to sit in one of the pews.
“Why not?” He stared at her in horror.
“Are you returning to Naples?”
“My place is here,” Edward replied stiffly.
“Then I will not return to Naples,” Bella announced.
“Isabella,” he groaned and knelt in front of her. “What you want we cannot have. I cannot give you
that.”
“We already do have that,” Bella whispered and rested her forehead against his. “You just refuse to
act upon it.”
“Bella,” he growled and stood up angrily, preparing to pace as she grabbed onto the knees of his
cassock.
“Why do you deny me?” She whispered into the material. “Am I not beautiful enough? Does my
family repulse you? Why do you not love me?”
“I,” Edward faltered. It would be so easy to lie to her right now. Easy to send her on her way
thinking that he didn’t love her but they were in a chapel of the Lord, the face of a suffering Jesus
before them and to lie in that place would damn his soul more than any other act that he could
commit.
“I do love you,” he admitted. “I love you more than anything else on this Earth. I love you more
than my family, my vows, but I cannot give you the life you need. I cannot say the words that bind
you to me forever that will let us be together,” he pleaded. “Can’t you understand that?”
“I don’t care,” she sobbed as he knelt down in front of her and began to stroke her hair. “They’re
just words.”
“So is ‘I love you’,” he snapped.
“No,” she shook her head and for a moment he realized just how young she was. “What I feel for
you isn’t even encompassed by the words.”
“Bella,” he groaned and let his face fall into her mahogany hair. “Why must you be so difficult?”
“Because it is the only way that you will see me for what I am,” she sobbed again.
“What is that?”
“Yours,” she announced as she clung to him, pulling him closer.
“It is all just words Isabella,” he tried to pull away and she clung to him tighter.
“Then say them,” she insisted.
“Say what?”
“Say the words. Tell me you don’t love me. Tell me you don’t want me. Tell me I mean nothing to
you.”
“I cannot,” he stuttered and clung to her tighter as the mere thought of those words raced through
his mind.
“Then say what you most desire,” she pleaded.
“I cannot,” he shook his head and then released her. “You know I cannot.”
“Fine,” his Bella reached up and grabbed the mussed strands of his hair firmly in her tiny fists and
pulled his face down to hers, staring into his eyes. “I love you,” she announced and tugged on his
curls.
“Isabella,” he moaned gently at the ferocity staring back at him. She was a kitten trying to appear
like a fierce lioness.
“I, Isabella,” she tugged on his hair again so that he was staring into her eyes. “Take thee
Edward,” he felt the panic welling up as he realized what she was doing, the blasphemy she was
committing.
“No,” he shook his head and tried to break away from her, held in place as she clung to him
tighter.
“To be my husband,” she snarled. “Forsaking all others, for richer and for poorer, in sickness and in
health, for all the days that I shall live.”
He moaned in horror at her words and felt himself slump as tiny, warm lips pressed against his
own. “I can’t,” he shook his head weakly.
“It doesn’t matter,” she answered resolutely. “I belong to you and we both know it. You can’t give
me to someone else now.”
“They’re just words,” he whimpered weakly.
“Then so are the vows that you gave the church,” she announced angrily as she released her fists
from his hair and stood. Brushing the dirt from her skirt she stared down at him. “I love you,” she
announced angrily. “I will not be without you. Eventually you’ll accept that.”
Edward raised his head and watched her storm from the chapel, tears filling his eyes. She loved
him. She wanted to be with him. She had made vows that bound her to him, if only just in her own
heart, and he hadn’t been able to muster the courage that the tiny woman in front of him had. He
didn’t deserve her, wasn’t worthy of her love. How could she want someone as weak as he was?
Someone afraid of simple words?
He had no choice now, he realized. He loved her as much as she claimed to love him. He couldn’t
tell her what she most needed to hear but he could act upon it. He had no choice now but to act
upon it. His stomach clenched. He had no choice now. Rising up from his knees he looked at the
statue of the Virgin in the nave of the chapel. He had no choice now but to keep her safe. “I love
you,” he whispered to the doors that she had flounced through angrily a moment before. “God save
me but I love you.”
He stepped into the small alcove off the sanctuary and washed the tear stains from his cheeks.
Pouring a glass of wine he then downed it in a single swallow. There was no choice now, she
wouldn’t leave and he wouldn’t allow her to go to someone as vile and cruel as Jacob Black.
Slamming the goblet back on the table he stalked out the door of the tiny room and out of the
chapel. He knew it would be easy to get the Lady Tanya alone for a few moments at her wedding
feast. His only prayer was that the two of them were as fertile as Alice and Jasper seemed to be.
Chapter 12.
He was shaking as he pressed his knees into Volvo’s sides. Stop it, he thought angrily to himself.
You’re not a child and you brought this on yourself. Quit acting like a whimpering woman.
“Morning, Your Grace!” A woman sweeping her stoop announced. “Have you had breakfast?”
“Good Morning,” he replied and raised his hand in benediction, as expected of him. “I have had
breakfast, thank you.”
“Are you going to St. Salvo’s?” The woman called out.
“I am,” he confirmed and tried to keep his voice firm as the words left his mouth.
“Pardon Your Grace,” she bobbed her head, “but could you take a basket of bread for them? My
daughter usually delivers it but she’s near her time and the babe plagues her sorely.”
“Of course,” Edward nudged Volvo so that he stopped in front of the woman’s store and
dismounted. “It would be my pleasure.”
“Thank you, Your Grace,” the woman gushed. “I wouldn’t have been so forward as to ask but I am
quite nervous about her. She’s my youngest, my only girl, and I worry more than I ever did about
my son’s wives. More than I did for myself when I bore them even.”
“That is understandable,” Edward consoled. “You gave her life and anything that causes her pain
scares you.”
“That’s true,” the woman bobbed her head again. “The only one worse is my husband. Excited as
he is to have another grandchild to spoil, he glares daggers at my poor soninlaw every time she
even looks as if she’s in pain. You’d think the poor young man had done some terrible deed to hurt
her on purpose.”
“The ways of fathers and daughters are a mystery of the heavens,” Edward chuckled. He’d taken
many confessions from men who’d come to him in confusion ecstatic that their daughters were
marrying but murderous about a young man they had previously liked sharing her bed. “Is your
daughter here?”
“Here?” The woman looked confused. “No, she’s married to the blacksmith in the next square. She
should be here within a few moments though. She comes to spend the day with me and her
brother’s wives. It’s a better place than a forge for a woman I think. The heat in there cannot be
good for her.”
“No,” Edward agreed as he helped the woman load a basket of bread for the nearby church. “I
would imagine it’s not.”
“Mama!” He heard a young sounding soprano call out, slightly breathless. “There is a fancy grey
horse outside! Someone’s been robbed and the horse has wandered here smelling the bread.”
“No,” Edward called out as he stepped out of the kitchen with the basket of bread. “I’ve simply
stopped for the day’s bread delivery.”
“Oh!” The girl’s eyes were wide as she attempted to lower her swollen body to its knees. “Your
Grace!”
“No, no,” Edward held out his hands in alarm. She was a tiny thing, smaller than Alice even, but
her dress billowed as if she had two large cannonballs shoved inside. “Don’t kneel. I’m afraid we’ll
never get you on your feet again in your condition.”
“Oh,” she glanced down at her stomach, vaguely embarrassed. “I am so sorry Your Grace. Please
excuse my appearance.”
“There’s nothing to excuse,” Edward smiled. “Come, sit. Your mother simply asked if I would take
the bread to St. Salvo’s since it was already my destination. I had hoped to stay until you arrived.”
“Your Grace?” She looked confused.
“Grace of the Lord be upon you,” he announced as he placed his hand gently on her forehead. “May
you have an easy birth and deliver a strong son.”
“Thank you, Your Grace,” the young woman stuttered as Edward picked up the basket of bread and
made his way to the door.
“Blessings upon your house,” he announced and then waved his free hand in benediction. When he
reached St. Salvo’s he would mention the young woman to Father Antonio. With her mother’s
concerns for her health, and the peaked condition she seemed to be in at arrival, the birth would
be an arduous one and the presence of a priest would be welcome, especially one with the friendly
patience of Father Antonio.
Once the basket was secured to the side of Volvo’s saddle he remounted and nudged the animal
toward the small church that provided comfort for the nearby merchants of Volterra. Would Bella
look like that when she was heavy with child?
No, he thought to himself. Don’t think about Bella that way. Don’t wonder about Bella heavy with
child. It would only cause pain. Besides, he rationalized, his Bella would be married to a noble with
the best nurses to care for her. The risks wouldn’t be as substantial for her as they were for the
blacksmith’s wife. Except he knew that wasn’t true. The risks of her, he swallowed. The risks of her
dying were almost as bad as they were for the blacksmith’s wife.
He’d reached the tiny church and dismounted, retrieving the basket of bread and straightening his
cassock. He noticed that his hand shook slightly and felt revulsion course through him. What would
Father Antonio say to him? He could imagine the look of disgust on the other man’s face when he
told him.
“Edward!” A hoarse voice announced.
“Father Antonio,” he tried to keep his voice cheerful.
“Father he calls me,” the older man hobbling toward him snorted, “he, an Archbishop at Volterra
Castle and I, a lowly priest ministering to a flock of merchants. Father, bah!”
“It is a habit,” Edward smiled. “From the many years you rapped my knuckles as I stared
uncomprehendingly at my Greek and Mathematics.”
“Have you improved anymore in either since I’ve last taught you?”
“I would humbly suggest that I’ve gotten worse from lack of practice. I fear Greek and Geometry
will remain a mystery to me.”
“At least you have enough passable Latin to say a mass,” the older priest replied. “That is more
than some in your social caste. Oh you’ll be cross but I once heard Father Dominic recite the
Church’s grocery list and all the herbs in our kitchen yard as a sermon to Count Marcus just to
prove that no one in that court could understand a word of his Latin.”
“Why would I be cross?” Edward laughed. “I’ve often felt like doing the same.”
“I’ve heard the newest Lady Volterra is not the most godly of women,” Father Antonio snorted.
“If that is a diplomatic way of saying she’s a harlot, then you’d have the way of it,” Edward
suggested.
“Hmph,” his old tutor snorted. “I take it the bread is for us?”
“Yes,” Edward shifted the basket to his hip and prepared to follow the elderly priest around the side
of the church to the rectory and its kitchen. “The baker’s wife ”
“The baker’s daughter is dying,” Father Antonio cut in.
“That may not be the case,” Edward answered slowly.
“She’s small and young and the babe is too large. The midwife has told me the babe is positioned
wrong. The girl will die.”
“The babe could shift,” Edward shrugged. “The midwife could turn it when the time comes.”
“She’ll do her best,” the priest replied cryptically. “I assure you though that come again in two
weeks time and I’ll have said a mass for the both of them. The mother knows as well.”
“It’s decided then,” Edward snapped.
“Nothing is decided,” the old priest answered quietly. “There are miracles and works of mystery
that come only from God. Bettina or her child may live, both may live if we are blessed, but I have
become too old to rely on the miracles of God to fulfill my desires or prevent my broken heart. It is
better to prepare for what will most likely come and then pray for a different outcome. That doesn’t
change the fact that the midwife, the mother and I all know that without a miracle of grace Bettina
and her child will die.”
“And you are suddenly an expert in babies?” Edward asked as he placed the basket of bread on the
work table inside the kitchen door.
“You, my young pupil my star are an Archbishop who has been marked for greatness. The
favor of Rome shines on you. The only time you’ll deal with an expecting woman is to bless a girl
with strong sons at her marriage, to baptize the children of nobles who survive, and to say the
mass as those who don’t are buried. It is a blessing for you I think. You have too gentle of a heart
for the dirty reality of the world outside of a castle’s walls.”
“You think very little of me as a priest,” Edward snorted.
“You’ll excuse the impertinence of an old man, Your Grace, but I do not think of you as a priest at
all. You are an inquisitive child, a bright pupil as long as the subjects are not Greek or Geometry, a
noble hearted and caring young man, and a reluctant pawn to a fate you resent. That makes you a
reluctant Archbishop who lacks a calling for his profession.”
“I am such a failure to you then?”
“Of course not,” the old priest argued as he pushed Edward back into the tiny, walled garden and
hobbled toward the stone bench underneath of a myrtle tree. “If you had chosen to be a priest,
had felt the calling, you would be an inspiration to the faithful. As it is, you’re actually a rather
passable priest. But it is not your calling Edward, it is a cruel twist of birth order that you have
learned to live with.”
“Has anyone ever told you that you are not an optimist?”
“Of course I’m not,” the priest chuckled. “That is why I became a priest. Without optimism I was
forced to rely upon faith. Now, you did not come just to deliver bread and inquire into my
disposition that has soured with age and gout. Why are you here to see your former tutor?”
Edward lowered his head and contemplated how he should start this discussion. Clasping his
shaking hands together he took a breath and stared hard at the flagstones. “Bless me Father for I
have sinned,” he said quietly. “It has been six weeks since my last confession.”
“Six weeks,” Antonio muttered. “Think you’ve gone a little longer than recommended for an
Archbishop?”
“I’m not very good at my profession, as you tell me,” Edward snorted. “But I don’t think that’s how
it goes.”
“True,” Antonio replied with a chuckle. “Tell me your sins so that I may absolve you to do penance
my son.”
“Father,” Edward suddenly felt very young again, “it’s complicated.”
“Probably not,” the old priest replied. “It just seems that way because you’re troubled. Start at the
beginning and we’ll unwind it together.”
“I’ve fallen in love,” Edward whispered.
“Have you acted upon it?”
“No,” Edward started. “Yes. I’m not sure.”
“That does seem complicated. Let’s go back to the beginning and see what we can arrive at.
Perhaps then we’ll know if you’ve acted upon it or not.”
“I met Bella at the Convent of Santa Maria,” Edward started. “She came to me in confession and
admitted that the convent was not a place for her. She cannot sing and I found out later that she is
the child of a scandal.”
“A scandal?”
“She’s the della Rovere bastard,” Edward whispered.
“Which one? The della Rovere have quite a few.”
“The bastard,” Edward replied.
“Giovanni’s? Hmm, I always did wonder,” Father Antonio replied. “Continue.”
“I just wanted to help her,” Edward said quietly. “The Lady Volterra had requested me as her
confessor and I wanted to be difficult. She needed a way from the convent and it suited both our
purposes.”
“You requested that she become part of the retinue?”
“I never,” Edward stopped. “I never touched her, never expected things from her. I just wanted to
give her the chance at something better.”
“You came to care about her?”
“It’s impossible not to care about her,” Edward defended. “She is intelligent, humble, loyal ”
“Beautiful?”
“Ravishing.”
“You fell into love with her?”
“The first second I truly saw her without a veil,” Edward replied certainly. “I had hoped it would
fade. The Lady Tanya would do her duty, make sure Isabella was married well into the lesser
nobility and my feelings would fade as she made a life with her new husband.”
“That is the best course of action my son,” Father Antonio counseled.
“The Lady Tanya doesn’t intend to give her to anyone in marriage. She has decided to make an
alliance with the Spanish embassy by using my Isabella. She means to give her to Jacob Black.”
“Ahh,” Father Antonio nodded. “I now see the root of our problem. I have heard about the Lord
Black, he’s made his presence known here among the ladies who make their living from the
merchant’s men. I’ve heard he intends to launch a courtesan into society with the Lady Tanya’s
blessing.”
“That is Isabella,” Edward clenched his fists. “She is not a courtesan though, she’s a convent girl.”
“That you love?”
“That loves me as well,” Edward spat through his teeth, still glaring at his clenched hands.
“Hmmm,” Father Antonio sighed. “Can you not write your family and secure her a place in Naples?
She would be safe from Lord Black, you would be safe from temptation, and the Farnese are too
powerful to care about a scandal from the della Rovere tainting them.”
“I tried,” Edward sighed. “A few days before, another lady in waiting was attacked by Black. She
was,” he swallowed.
“Defiled?”
“Yes, she was defiled. The Lady Tanya claimed she had no further need for the girl and intended to
put her out to beg.”
“And your Isabella gave up her place in the home of the Farnese for this defiled girl? Can you not
arrange a second place?”
“She’s refusing to leave,” Edward sighed. “She is refusing to leave me and return to Naples. She
has sworn herself to me and no other in a church, taken a vow to love me and no other.”
“And have you similarly sworn yourself?”
“Not aloud,” Edward hesitated.
“It does not matter. Unless the vows of both of you are heard by a priest they are not binding.”
“I am a priest!” Edward screamed angrily. “I heard them! I hear them in my ears even now! I hear
her begging for my love and swearing herself only to me!”
“Then swear yourself in return and take her as your mistress,” Father Antonio replied calmly. “No
one, not even God, will think any less that you have given up an oath that you did not freely give.
Accept that you are not a true priest and take her as your own.”
“I cannot ask her to live like that,” Edward muttered.
“Then send her to Naples by force. Bind her hands and put her in the carriage with guards. When
she returns, bind her hands again and send her back. Her devotion will fade with time. As will
yours.”
“The Lady Tanya refuses to release her now.”
“Refuses? She will not marry her off, she will not make an alliance with the Farnese and the now
possibly powerful Cullens, why? For the Spaniards? What do they have that she wants so badly?”
“No,” Edward shook his head and felt the tears welling in his eyes like the child he’d been when
Antonio first became his tutor.
“She wants a devil’s bargain with me.”
“A devil’s pact? What could she want that an alliance with the Farnese will not provide?”
“A child.”
“A child?” Father Antonio stuttered. “She wants you to give her a child? How?”
Edward stared at the other man and tried to hold back the tears of revulsion he felt brimming in his
eyes. He was disgusting, worthless, a horrible priest, and now the man he most respected would
know the extent of his loathsomeness.
“I see,” Father Antonio’s face was grim, “and in return?”
“She promised that Isabella would be engaged within a fortnight of her conception. She began the
search after our first attempt. In reality, I think she began it before that.”
“You’ve already made this bargain?”
“I had two days after the wedding to decide. If I refused she would have had Isabella moved to
Black’s quarters immediately. I could not allow that to happen.”
“Because you love her?”
“No, yes. I don’t know. I couldn’t allow him to take her virtue and deny her a husband. It would
have been better to take her myself but the Lady Tanya refused that suggestion as well. I
considered taking her anyway, Black would not want a piece of fruit with the first bite missing so to
speak.”
“That may have been a better choice,” Father Antonio nodded.
“Except the man came around to let me know that if his Isabella were tainted when she came to
his bed that he would have no loyalty and would share her with his men.”
“He was helping the Lady Tanya in her bargaining.”
“He thinks there is much to gain, I just haven’t determined what.”
“The renown of being the patron of a famous courtesan? A link to both the Volturri and the Este?
Something to hold over the Farnese as blackmail if your part became known?
“Tell me why you did it?” Father Antonio asked softly. “Why commit to being complicit in adultery
for a woman you could never have?”
“It was better to sin myself and be forgiven for it than to force her into a sin that she would be
damned for all eternity for.”
“Plenarii suffertivo,” Father Antonio nodded. “And how has it made you feel?”
“Unclean, disgusting,” Edward shuddered. “I cannot stand to look at myself in the mirror. I wish to
die. I wish for the Lady Tanya to die. I wish that God would allow Bettina from the bakery to live
and the Lady Tanya to die a painful, torturous death. I would plunge the knife into her heart myself
if I could bear the thought of it.”
“And about Isabella? How do you feel about Isabella?”
“Forgive me Father but I still love her beyond reason.”
“And if she knew about your actions?”
“She would never forgive me,” Edward whispered. “I am terrified she will find out and then she’ll
never forgive me.”
“And what will you do if that happens?”
“I’ll marry her to another man, I will bless her to have strong sons, and I will continue to love her
from afar.”
“Edward,” Father Antonio sighed. “For penance I give you ten centuries a day for the next two
weeks. I absolve you of the sins of pride and adultery but you must know that I cannot absolve you
of everything. I cannot absolve you for a sin you do not repent from.”
“I can’t,” Edward shook his head. “I’ve tried and I can’t.”
“You are not a weak young man,” Father Antonio reasoned.
“I have tried,” Edward groaned. “But I cannot regret loving her.”
“So be it,” Father Antonio nodded. “I cannot ask you to repent falsely. Now, come along and we’ll
have a mid morning snack. I’ve found that I grow hungry in the morning as I get older.”
Chapter 13.
“Mademoiselle,” the young man insisted in his lilting accent as he pressed the bouquet of flowers
into her hands. “You must allow me to accompany you to dinner.”
“That’s,” Bella tried to pull her hand away, while still smiling and accepting the flowers graciously.
“That’s really not necessary. I must attend Milady during the meal.”
“Don’t be ridiculous Isabella,” the Lady Tanya trilled. “Angela can attend to me on her own. I’m the
Countess of Volterra, not a child. You do not need to coddle me like you do.”
Turning, she looked at the young Frenchman looking pleadingly at Bella. “She’s entirely too
maternal,” she warned him. “She’s simply too concerned with taking care of everyone around her
for her own good. Any man who marries her better plan on being pampered and petted.”
‘Any man who married her,’ Bella thought sullenly. The man she wanted to pamper and pet had
thrown her vows of love back at her cruelly. ‘No,’ she amended. He hadn’t thrown them back at
her; he’d just ignored them and her ever since the day of Lady Tanya’s wedding. It had been
six weeks and he didn’t come to the Lady Tanya’s rooms when she was in attendance, he turned
away from her whenever they were in the main hall, and once he’d even turned and almost ran
from her in the corridor.
She had embarrassed him and made a fool of herself by declaring her love. It was obvious that he
didn’t feel the same way. His declarations otherwise had been meant to spare her feelings. How
silly of her to think that someone like him would desire someone like her. ‘You’re Renata’s
daughter,’ she chided herself, ‘not Renata how silly of you to even try.’
“Isabella,” the young man caught her hand again between his own and then dropped to his knees
in front of the assembled guests in the Lady Tanya’s salon. “I shall not eat unless you accompany
me.”
“Then you will be hungry at breakfast,” she laughed.
“I shall never eat again unless you accompany me to the meal. Then I shall waste away in front of
you and you will realize that my love and adoration is genuine. Imagine the guilt you will feel at my
death.”
“You’re being silly,” she chided.
“I am madly in love with you,” he declared impishly from his place near her ankles. “I will follow
you, groveling, kissing the places where your feet have stepped in reverent worship.”
“Reverent worship?” She raised an eyebrow.
“And perhaps the chance to take a peek at what feel like delightfully beautiful ankles,” the young
man smirked.
“Well,” Bella cocked her head to the side. “If you insist on kissing the ground I’ve walked upon,
perhaps we should practice a bit. Just so you have the way of it.”
“It would be my pleasure,” the young man raised his hands to his heart and fluttered his lashes
dramatically.
Bella laughed at his antics and then took a step away from him. The young man promptly leaned
forward and kissed the carpet where her foot had been with a loud smack. On all fours he looked at
her expectantly and she took another step back. He once again kissed where each of her feet had
been loudly and fluttered his lashes at her. Bella giggled and took a few more steps, allowing him
to follow her and kiss the carpets.
“Mademoiselle,” he chided as she giggled. “I must confess that while I am willing to play your lap
dog,” his eyes sparkled mischeviously. “Perhaps, I could have the comfort of laying my head in
your lap?”
“Clever!” The Lady Tanya laughed and so did the rest of her audience. “Isabella, you simply cannot
make this poor young man suffer without your company at dinner. He has literally kissed the
ground you walk upon.”
“Please Isabella,” the young man fluttered his lashes again at her. “If I do not accompany you then
surely Lord Black will monopolize you during dinner. Then I shall be heartbroken and in my grief
will be forced to call him out for your affections. Once he’s dead, the Spanish will demand
retribution and I will be banished from Volterra to die of a broken heart without you. See,
accepting my dinner invitation will save two lives and all of my King’s hard work for this trade
agreement.”
“You are ridiculous,” Bella laughed.
“I am in love,” he countered.
“I don’t know your name.”
“James de Laurentis,” he pronounced, “second son of the Viscount de Marigny.”
“Are you going to allow the young French gentleman to be your dinner partner?” The Lady Tanya
teased, the familiar gleam in her eyes that she’d had since marrying shining brightly now.
“You may accompany me to dinner,” Bella feigned reluctance. It would be better than eating alone
and staring forlornly at the Archbishop as he actively tried to avoid her gaze. “Are you going to
continue kissing the ground I walk upon?”
“That is my greatest desire.”
“In that case,” Bella smiled back at him prettily and batted her eyelashes. “First, I’d like to go to
the stables and check upon the horses. We’ll go there first.”
The room roared with laughter, including James from his place on the floor in front of her. Once
he’d regained control of his breathing he leaned forward to wrap his arms around her ankles. “If
that is what pleases you Milady,” he said humbly. “I would think you wouldn’t wish to destroy your
pretty slippers. Perhaps, instead of kissing the ground behind you, I should carry you in my arms
instead? I would hate for such lovely ankles to risk being near something so foul.”
The crowd erupted into laughter again, Bella included, as the young man stood and dramatically
offered her his arm. “Bravo!” Lady Tanya clapped as he swept into a dramatic bow and then lifted
Bella bridal style into his arms.
“Perhaps I shall never let you down?” James teased. “I will carry you everywhere from now on.”
“Put me down!” Bella giggled.
“No, no,” he shook his head. “I’ve heard you’re as clumsy as you are beautiful my love. I would die
before I let any harm come to you so to save your ankles and my life I must now devote myself to
carrying you everywhere you may wish.”
“You are silly.”
“You’ve said that,” he countered. “I’m also hungry and you’ve promised to be my dinner
companion.”
Bella giggled and felt herself blush as James swept out the door, still carrying her and made his
way to the main dining hall. The rest of Lady Tanya’s entourage trailed behind them, laughing at
the young Frenchman’s antics.
When they entered the dining hall Bella glanced around quickly and saw the assembled court
staring at them in shock. Glancing up, she saw Edward staring at her, his hand over his mouth and
a plate of food forgotten in front of him. She felt a minor flush of irritation. How dare he stare at
her that way! It wasn’t as if she was behaving immodestly and the Lady Tanya was there to
supervise her actions. If he was upset that she was with another gentleman caller than he should
have staked his claim to her when she’d given him the chance by utterly humiliating herself the
day of Lady Tanya’s wedding.
“My dear,” Count Marcus cried out. “Have you been injured?”
“No Your Grace,” James bent forward into a regal bow, still holding her, and Bella let out a small
shriek of surprise. “This is my way of assuring that the Lady Isabella would be well enough to
attend dinner with me as she promised. She was threatening to walk on her own and we all know
how dangerous flat surfaces are for her!”
Bella blushed as the entire court erupted into laughter. By now it was well known how clumsy she
was and most of the court found it to be ‘endearing’. “As long as you’re not injured,” Count Marcus
laughed and waved his hand in dismissal.
Bella glanced away from Count Marcus and noticed Jacob Black glaring at them darkly. He held a
goblet of wine in front of him and she could see the anger bubbling inside of him. She shivered in
terror at the look in his eyes, he was a monster that she did her best to avoid. Thankfully, the Lady
Tanya had endured a change of heart after her own wedding and was now less enthusiastic about
Lord Black’s attention toward her.
“That disgusting Spaniard is looking at you,” James whispered in her ear as he led her toward a
table and set her into a chair.
“I know,” Bella couldn’t help but shudder.
“Don’t be frightened,” James replied soothingly as he reached for each of them plates. “I will not
allow him to befoul you with his presence. Now what dishes can I retrieve for you to eat?”
“Thank you,” Bella whispered in reply. “I would like a bit of the duck, some pasta and the steamed
vegetables look delicious.”
“A woman with an appetite,” James chuckled as he began reaching for various serving dishes so
that she could fill her plate. “I am more enamored with you now than ever before. Allow me to
retrieve a glass of wine for you?”
“Thank you,” Bella smiled as James stood and hurried toward where the goblets sat on a side table
and poured her a glass of red wine. She looked over and noticed that Edward was gone, his plate
still on the table half eaten. Surely her presence hadn’t upset him that much?
“Isabella,” a low, accented voice growled. “What do you think you are doing?”
She shivered slightly before turning around to face an enraged Jacob Black. “I am eating dinner.”
She felt a hand curl around her arm tightly.
“Not with him,” Jacob announced.
“Pardon?” James’ voice broke in. “Lord Black it appears you’re harassing my dinner partner.”
“Go away,” Jacob growled.
“I will not,” James announced loudly and reached out to pull Jacob’s hand away from her arm. “You
will go and leave the Lady Isabella in peace. Return to your dinner or I shall be forced to call you
out for your manners.”
“Isabella is mine,” Jacob announced.
“Isabella is no one’s. She makes company with whoever she sees fit to.” James contradicted. “Now,
it appears as if she doesn’t wish to make company with you. Leave.”
“No,” Jacob snapped and lunged toward James.
A sharp crack sounded and Bella let out a tiny shriek as she glanced between James and Jacob.
The Frenchman was shaking his hand absently as the Spaniard lay on the ground, bleeding from
the nose. James had punched Jacob!
“Ambassador,” Count Marcus called out over the din in the dining hall. “It seems your nephew has
had too much wine. Perhaps you should return him to your chambers?”
“Of course Your Grace,” the Ambassador said tightly and then motioned for two of his men at arms
to retrieve Jacob.
“Now,” James said brightly as he returned to his chair. “I’ve returned with your wine my lovely
Isabella. I wonder if you would care to tell me about yourself.”
“About myself?”
“Especially how I can return that lovely rose blush to your porcelain cheeks,” James smiled. “It is a
breathtaking spectacle to behold.”
“Oh, um,” Bella giggled. He wasn’t Edward but it was nice to receive the attentions of at least one
handsome man.
Chapter 14.
“You cannot be serious,” Edward hissed as he grabbed the Lady Tanya by the arm and dragged her
into her nearby chambers, uncaring about how rough he was being as he tossed her toward the
nearest wall.
“I’m doing what you asked,” she spat back angrily.
“Marrying her off to the French envoy? To a little popinjay with no more sense in his head than my
brother’s dumbest draft horse?”
“Who else would you give her to?” Tanya glared at him malevolently. “We’re fresh out of the
sainted and sickly in this court if you haven’t noticed!”
“Not the French envoy!” Edward hissed. “They’re barely civilized there! She’ll catch an illness!”
“In the apartments of an ambassador?” Tanya laughed hysterically. “I’ve been to the envoy’s
apartments, they’re quite clean very civilized.”
“And when he returns home?”
“Who says they’re returning home?”
“What?”
“De Laurentis is the permanent ambassador to the court of Volterra from the French king. If you’d
bothered to pay attention to politics instead of wrapping yourself in theology you would know that
the Marigny revel in the positions of ambassadors to all the best courts of Europe. Young James is
to be our permanent envoy and therefore won’t be leaving Volterra Castle.”
“I don’t like him,” Edward grumbled.
“You won’t like anyone chosen for her,” Tanya retorted. “I could arrange a marriage to the brother
of Christ himself and you’d find fault in my selection. It would be better for you if I moved her to
another court.”
“NO!” Edward responded sharply before he stalked toward the bureau and poured himself a goblet
of wine.
“Martyrdom isn’t an emotion that suits you,” Tanya opinioned.
“No more than marital obedience and chastity suit you, Milady,” Edward snapped.
“I’ll let that pass because of our long friendship,” Tanya shrugged and poured herself a goblet of
wine before taking the seat across from him and resting her feet on the stool in front of her. “But
you shouldn’t talk to a lady in my condition in such an indelicate way.”
“Your condition?” Edward raised an eyebrow.
“By late spring the Lord of Volterra shall have another heir with either lovely green eyes or a
swarthy dark complexion.”
“Hedged your bets I see,” Edward snapped.
“Made a decent alliance with the Spanish as well since you blew my previous plans to Hell and
back,” Tanya retorted.
“Well,” Edward took a deep swallow of wine. “No one ever accused you of being a choosy bitch in
who you took to your bed did they?”
“Ah,” Tanya crooned in mock sympathy. “I’d almost think you were jealous Edward. I didn’t know I
meant so much to you.”
“Don’t flatter yourself.” Edward stalked back to the bureau and poured himself a second goblet of
wine. “Tell me about the French popinjay.”
“Ambassador de Laurentis?” Tanya crooned. “That’s who you mean isn’t it? The man who’ll be
marrying my little black swan if this works out like I hope?”
“Possibly,” Edward glared. “The Church, meaning me, hasn’t approved of the match and I highly
doubt either of them will marry without the proper blessings.”
“Silly Edward,” Tanya chuckled. “He’s everything you could hope for in a husband for Isabella.”
“Really?” He snarled. “He seemed healthier than I would have preferred. I had hoped for her a
husband who was later in his years, perhaps one with an unhealthy constitution.”
“That’s not fair,” Tanya argued. “You don’t want her, you shouldn’t ask for her to live the life of a
nun because of that.”
“I do want her,” Edward snapped and then buried his head in his hands. “I want her more than
anything.”
“Then take her,” Tanya threw her hands up in exasperation. “She won’t tell you no, we’re all aware
of that. Take the woman as your mistress and be done with this charade.”
“I can’t,” Edward groaned.
“I assure you Edward,” Tanya rolled her eyes. “You’re quite capable of it physically. Besides, you’re
an Archbishop so no one will concern themselves if you take a mistress.”
“She deserves a properly blessed marriage,” Edward moaned and then shook his head.
“That’s not something you can provide,” Tanya pointed out. “Too much of your family’s influence
rests upon your position within the Holy Church, you can’t just walk away from that responsibility.”
“You think I don’t know that?”
“I know you know that,” Tanya pointed out again.
“So what would you have me do?”
“Decide which is more important!” Tanya snapped. “Either take her as you want, or let me make
for her the marriage she deserves! But set your mind to something and accept the consequences of
your actions like a man instead of whining like a little boy!”
“Tell me about de Laurentis,” Edward whispered as he looked up at Tanya and tried to fight the
burning sting in his eyes.
Tanya stood and made her way over to him. Kneeling down, she wrapped her arms around his
shoulders in a soothing gesture and then patted him on the back. “He’s a good man Edward. Well
respected, a gentleman. He’ll treat her properly.”
“He knows about ” Edward looked at her bleakly.
“He’s the second son of a minor Vicomte, he can’t afford to be choosy in the selection of a wife.
Besides, he’s quite taken with her.”
“Who isn’t?”
“Taken in a good way,” Tanya consoled. “He’s asked to take her walking in the gardens tomorrow.”
“You’re allowing it?”
“He’d already made provisions for a chaperone. Your own Brother Mike will be accompanying them.
Who am I to protest a man that takes a monk with him to do his wooing?”
“And he’s ”
“Already inquired as to whether Isabella is promised to another. He has spoken with me that
perhaps, if her feelings for him are amicable, we may begin to discuss a marriage between them.”
“And Bella? How does Isabella feel about him?” Edward felt his heart break as he asked.
“She likes him,” Tanya answered slowly. “He is kind and makes her laugh, which she hasn’t done
much since the break in faith between you after my wedding.”
“Does she ”
“No,” Tanya shook her head. “She is stubbornly clinging to an Archbishop who is too blind to see
what is in front of his face.”
“Tanya,” Edward groaned and then buried his head in his hands again. “What should I do?”
“Be cruel to her,” Tanya whispered into his hair. “You must be cruel to her so that she can find
happiness with another.”
“I cannot,” he shook his head. “I cannot hurt her.”
“You must,” Tanya replied softly. “Hurt her for her own happiness. Hurt her so that there is no
doubt in her mind that the two of you can never be. Hurt her so that she can move on with
someone else.”
“I’ll die,” Edward whimpered.
“Men always think that they will die from the things they must do,” Tanya retorted dryly. “Losing
Isabella will not kill you and even if it does you must decide what is more important your life or
Isabella’s?”
“But,” Edward looked at the woman kneeling in front of him.
“That’s all that matters,” Tanya shrugged as she stood and made her way to the door, motioning
him out. “Your life or Isabella’s? Because the decision is yours alone to make and that is what it
comes down to. Who is more important to you? Yourself or Isabella?”
“You’re right of course,” Edward nodded. “I must apologize in advance to you now Milady. I fear
one of your ladies may be upset at the behavior I exhibit around her tonight. You, of course, have
my deepest apologies.”
“Go,” Tanya lifted her chin and motioned him out. “I am old enough to have seen my fair share of
maidens with broken hearts. It is something that a woman learns to live through.”
Edward stepped out of the Lady Tanya’s apartments and wondered where he should go now.
Where was he most likely to find Isabella? Angela had been in attendance for the Lady Tanya and
he didn’t expect that she would be in her room this early. He’d seen her at dinner and he knew that
if James had prepared a chaperone for her tomorrow that he wouldn’t be walking in the gardens
with her now. Where would his Bella go?
Edward turned decisively on his heel and made his way toward Volterra Castle’s extensive library.
He could only hope that the chamber would be as empty as it normally was so that they would be
afforded some privacy. He didn’t want to injure her pride in front of an audience.
Turning into the library he caught sight of her immediately, curled in front of the fire with a book.
Stalking up to her, he tried to keep his demeanor hostile and unwelcoming, fighting the urge to
sink down in front of her and take her in his arms. “Isabella,” he announced coldly.
Looking up, startled, she gazed at him and he watched as her cheeks blushed. “Your Grace,” she
seemed to smile. “I had not expected to see you in the library tonight.”
“I’ve come for some reading material,” Edward replied. “Why are you not doing your duties?”
“I have the evening off Your Grace.”
“Hmm,” Edward looked at her in pretend skepticism. “I imagine after tonight’s display the Lady
Tanya would be less than thrilled to have you in her company.”
“Tonight’s display?” Bella looked at him questioningly.
“Your rather unseemly arrival at dinner,” Edward ground out as he thought about how he’d felt to
see her ensconced in the arms of another man. “Then the public brawl of your two suitors.”
“James was simply protecting me from Lord Black’s unwanted attentions.” Bella defended.
“Of course,” Edward snarled. “Perhaps you wouldn’t be forced into accepting Lord Black’s advances
if you behaved a little more modestly.”
“More modestly?” Bella stuttered. “I assure you Archbishop, I’ve done nothing to encourage him.”
“Of course it would seem that way to you,” Edward sneered and could feel his own heart breaking
at the look on her face. “But perhaps you could remind yourself that regardless of whom your
mother was, you were raised in a convent of Christ and behave accordingly?”
“What?” He watched as Bella reeled back as if she’d been slapped.
“I did vouch for your character,” Edward wanted to reach for the letter opener on the nearby desk
and open his veins with it at the look of shock and sadness enveloping her face. “If you could have
the courtesy not to shame my judgment I would appreciate it.”
“My apologies Your Grace,” she stuttered and he could see the tears welling up in her eyes that she
was fighting not to shed in front of him. “It won’t happen again.”
“Good,” Edward snapped and turned to stalk out of the library.
“Your Grace?” Bella’s quiet voice broke the silence around them and Edward turned.
“Yes?”
“You’ve forgotten to retrieve some reading material.”
“I’ll return for it later,” Edward growled, “when I find the company more to my liking.” With those
final words he walked as rapidly as he could without running toward the doors of the library and
threw himself through them slamming the heavy oak behind him. Leaning against the door he
pinched the bridge of his nose and sunk silently to the ground as the sound of her sobs from inside
the empty library broke him.
Chapter 15.
Bella tried to keep her thoughts pleasant as she let James lead her through Volterra’s extensive
formal gardens. Brother Michael trailed absentmindedly behind them, a wicker basket over his
arm in which he occasionally put newly cut flowers so that he could later decorate the chapel. Bella
had barely been able to keep from rolling her eyes at the thought of Brother Michael decorating
anything, it was always too garish. The seminarian, Ben, would redo the arrangements then
secretly give the rest of the flowers to Angela since they were unofficially wooing each other.
The last thing she had really wanted to do this afternoon was walk the gardens with James. She
liked James, she reminded herself, it was just that she’d had a long night of crying into her pillow
over Edward’s words and all she really wanted to do now was sleep away her hurt.
How could he have said those things to her? She wondered. She had offered him everything, every
part of herself and he had rejected her. She had disgraced herself, thankfully in private, and
thrown herself at his feet in the church and still he’d denied her. Since then he had avoided her as
though she carried an unspeakable disease, making it clear that he didn’t want her. Regardless of
what she had thought, he didn’t want her in the way she wanted him. He had simply gotten her
this position and come to visit her so often because he cared about her well being as a parishioner.
He was a true gentleman and she’d disgraced herself in front of him. Bella couldn’t help but sniffle
at the thought. How disgusted must he have been with her to finally speak up about her behavior?
“Are you all right ma petite?” James’s soothingly accented voice broke through her thoughts.
“Yes,” Bella nodded and tried to seem enthusiastic about their turn around the garden. “I was just
breathing in the beautiful scent of the roses.”
“Ahh, yes,” James sniffed appreciatively at the air and then dipped his head to sniff at her hair. “I
much prefer the smell of lavender though.”
“Ohh,” Bella couldn’t help but blush at the obvious compliment. “They are very beautiful,” she
added helpfully.
“They are acceptable for some,” James sniffed.
“You do not care for roses?”
“They are beautiful enough,” James shrugged. “Meanwhile, I prefer a flower that is much less
jaded. The rose is a flower that is ostentatious in its beauty. It knows it’s beautiful and demands
attention for it. Roses are vain flowers.”
“Vain?” Bella laughed. “You’re accusing a flower of vanity? Pray tell then, what flowers do you
prefer?”
“Yes,” James laughed in return and led her out of the rose garden and toward a more secluded part
of the gardens. As they walked toward the marble fountain showcasing Cupid and Psyche, Bella felt
herself being drawn progressively closer to James as the path narrowed. Once there she made a
show of staring at the marble sculpture of the God and his mortal love, admiring the piece.
“I prefer the flowers of the field, personally.” James announced. “They’re innocent in their beauty.”
“Innocent?” Bella looked up at the strange, charming man standing next to her and smiled.
“How are the flowers of the field innocent and the rose vain?”
“Think of it this way,” James countered. “What good is the rose? Does it help anyone? Cure any
illness? Protect the crops somehow from animals?”
“No,” Bella shook her head. “It’s a rose.”
“Exactly,” James replied. “It’s a rose. A rose does nothing but sit in a garden and demand attention
for its beauty. Meanwhile, compare that to a flower of the field let’s say lavender perhaps? The
smell of lavender is used to soothe the sick and the weary, when infused into oil it cures even the
most serious burns, it prevents wounds from becoming angry and allows them to heal without a
fever. In the field the lavender sacrifices itself to the animals so that the grapes and the vegetables
can grow. Yet, who can deny that the lavender is as beautiful as the vain and lazy rose?”
“Well,” Bella couldn’t help but stammer as James reached out to stroke her cheek softly.
“I would much rather enjoy the selfless beauty of lavender than pay court to the rose,” James
finished and Bella couldn’t help the way her mind was reeling.
Was he comparing her to lavender? Surely he wouldn’t make such a declaration to her? Was it
perhaps just an observation and not the declaration that she’d taken it to be? No, she decided as
he stroked her cheek again and led her closer to the fountain. This was not just an observation.
The place he’d brought her, the fact that Brother Michael had wandered away from them, the fact
that he’d compared her smell to that of lavender just a moment before surely it was a
declaration of some kind.
“Ma petite Isabella,” James purred as he pressed her knees against the marble ledge of the
fountain. Bella instinctively sat and expected him to sit beside her. James surprised her, instead
kneeling in front of her feet and taking her hands into his. “I care very deeply for you, Isabella. I
hold you in a very high regard.”
“And I you,” she agreed demurely as her mind raced. What was he doing? Was he doing what she
thought he was doing? Certainly he wasn’t declaring himself to her? The Lady Tanya hadn’t told her
that he’d made any inquiries but then again they had talked privately while she had been retrieving
a shawl. Could he have received her blessing to woo Bella in that time?
“Isabella,” James kissed her knuckles gently and then took a deep breath. “My beautiful Bella. I
care very deeply for you and I’ve spoken with the Lady Tanya to make those feelings known.”
Spoken to the Lady Tanya? Bella was dumbfounded. He had spoken to the Lady Tanya about her?
“I don’t understand,” Bella swallowed. Was he attempting to court her? To woo her? She felt a
sinking feeling in her stomach the Lady Tanya had not explained to him her situation. Or, even
worse, he hadn’t understood the implications because of the language barrier.
“I would very much like to make you my wife,” James said slowly and then dropped his head so
that the front of his hair rested against her knuckles.
“Your wife?” She couldn’t help the way her heart raced at the sound of it.
“I know it is very sudden,” he looked up at her hopefully. “Yet, I feel as though you have taken my
heart, my Bella, and I cannot stand the thought that someone else may court you or even marry
you. Surely such an event would cause my heart and my body to die in horrible agony.”
“Oh,” Bella couldn’t help but gasp at the tenderness of his words and the obvious sincerity behind
them. But, she felt her heart sink again, that would change the moment he understood the
situation she was facing.
“I have spoken to the Lady Tanya and she has assured me that there is no other gentleman
courting you, nor are you previously promised elsewhere. That is true, yes?”
“That is true,” Bella agreed.
“I will not simply arrange to marry you, my Bella,” James continued. “I want your permission to
continue my suit. If you do not care for me, do not look upon me as a favorable match, you have
but say so and I will leave you to your peace.”
Bella stopped for a moment. Her heart told her to say ‘no, my heart already belongs to another’
but her mind argued against it. Edward didn’t want her. He didn’t love her. He had released her
from the vows she had made that day with his actions. Why should she pine, alone, for a love she
would never have? What sort of future beheld her without the protection of a well matched
husband?
James, Bella looked at him appraisingly, was an excellent match. Better than she should have been
able to make in truth. He was an ambassador, held in high esteem in both Volterra and France; his
estate while not grand was sizable enough that her life would be comfortably rich if not luxurious in
comparison to the convent. She could do much worse for a match and would be unlikely to do
better.
“Yes,” Bella brought their hands, still linked together, to her own lips and kissed the back of his
hands like he had done to her a few moments before.
“Yes?”
“Yes,” Bella repeated. “I would very much like for you to continue your suit. I care very deeply for
you and respect you greatly. I would be honored to be your wife but I fear you may not wish to
become my husband.”
“Why ever not?” James looked at her in surprise.
“Perhaps the Lady Tanya has not explained my peculiar situation,” Bella started gently.
“That you are the child of a scandal?” James asked abruptly and Bella pulled back in surprise.
“Well,” she stammered. “Yes?”
“The whole story has been told to me,” James answered and then shrugged. “I do not care.”
“You don’t care?”
“I did not ask to marry your mother,” James replied casually. “Why would her actions affect why I
wish to marry you?”
“Well,” Bella gaped.
“Are you your mother?” James asked.
“No!” Bella replied indignantly and tried to pull her hands from his iron grasp.
“Well then,” James pulled her hands gently back toward him. “Then her actions are meaningless to
me.”
“I have no dowry,” Bella pointed out.
“And I am asking you to be the wife of an ambassador,” James countered. “You may be required to
travel if I am sent elsewhere. There are no assurances that we will see my estates in France often
or even at all. You may be wounded by the treatment of those who do not favor France, not
because of you but because of my station. I am only the second son of a minor noble so there will
be no great wealth and his Majesty the King may treat you kindly but not nearly as well as the
wives of greater men.”
“Those things are unimportant to me,” Bella argued. “I wish to be your wife because I care about
you James, not because of what prestige may be gained from it. I simply wish to be your wife and
the mother of your children.”
“Then,” James replied patiently, “all I wish is to be your husband. I care nothing about increasing
my wealth or prestige through the title of my wife. If I had the choice of a grand title and its wealth
or a swine herd’s shack and you as a wife, gloriously fat with our child, then I would revel in the
shack and learn to care for pigs.”
“James,” Bella felt her eyes fill with tears.
“Now,” he leaned down to kiss her knuckles again. “We have discussed the unpleasantness of the
business end of marriage. I must know, my Bella, now that we have laid our respective lack of
fortunes out for each other will you still allow my suit? Do you still wish to be my wife?”
“I wish to be your wife more than anything James,” Bella took a deep breath and then smiled.
Suddenly she felt herself being lifted and then twirled in the air. Once her slippered feet found the
ground again, she felt a gentle kiss on each cheek and then James lowered himself to his knees
again to kiss her hands and then bent to kiss each of her feet. “I swear to be a good husband to
you my Bella,” he promised her reverently.
“Then you shouldn’t kneel before me,” she scolded lightly and then pulled at his hands so that he
stood. “For I wish to be a good wife to you as well.”
She felt strong arms encircle her waist and lifted her eyes to meet his blue ones. “We shall go and
tell Lady Tanya that you accepted my suit immediately,” he announced joyously. “Then, as soon as
dinner has finished I will speak to the Archbishop to make the arrangements.”
Bella felt her heart sink. What would Edward say? Would he deny James’s request to marry her?
Council him against the match? Would he think that she abandoned her vows to him frivolously?
Would that hurt him?
No, she decided. Edward had chosen his course and she had simply chosen hers in return. He could
not fault her for making a good match if he were unwilling to provide her with the one she wanted.
“I would very much like that,” Bella smiled as James began to lead her toward the Lady Tanya’s
apartments. “I would like to marry as soon as possible.”
“So would I,” James agreed. “I had hoped we could marry during my father’s visit to Volterra
before he takes up his new post in Rome. I think he will have a great deal of affection for you, as
will my mother.”
“I’m sure I’ll have a great deal of affection for them as well,” Bella agreed. “They must be
wonderful people to have raised you for a son.”
Chapter 16.
“Archbishop Cullen!” He grit his teeth as he heard the French bastard hailing him from further
down the corridor. Brother Michael had come to him with the ‘wonderful news’ that the French
ambassador had proposed earlier and that the Lady Isabella had joyfully accepted. The monk had
made it sound as though cherubs had parted the clouds and then floated down to serenade the
happy couple. It had been two hours since the monk had come to him with the news and his jaw
hurt from being locked in a perpetual grimace since.
The. Bastard. Had. Proposed. He felt his fist clench and had to fight off the urge to turn around and
shove it in the other man’s face. Even worse, Isabella had said yes. His stomach lurched at the
thought and he truly thought he would be violently ill in the corridor before he could escape the
man who’d stolen his true love.
What had possessed her to say yes? Hadn’t she promised to belong to him? To love him for the
rest of their lives? Why had she agreed to marry another man?
“Because you told her you didn’t love her,” his inner monologue, sounding suspiciously like his
mother, retorted. “Then you avoided her, treated her like she was beneath contempt, and then told
her you couldn’t stand her company. Even worse, you had compared her to her mother, knowing
full well about the woman’s tragic end.”
“Your Grace,” the other man called out again.
Taking a deep breath, he turned around and faced the bastard who had torn his heart from his
chest and prepared to offer it to him again so that he could stomp on it. “Yes Ambassador?”
“Archbishop,” the other man couldn’t pull the sly smile off of his horridly unmatched and overly
unattractive face. “I have a very important matter to discuss with you.”
“You do?” He tried not to focus on the other man’s overly straight, uniform teeth or his fashionably
cut clothing. It didn’t matter that he was an unattractive and overly costumed dandy. Obviously
that was something that Isabella found appealing.
“I would like to discuss the matter of my nuptials with you,” James replied.
“Well, Ambassador, I didn’t realize that you had become officially engaged.” Edward couldn’t help
twisting the blade slightly in the other man’s chest. The Ambassador might have stolen away his
Bella’s heart, but he would be unable to claim her as his bride without Edward’s official blessing.
“That is what I wished to discuss with you,” the Ambassador persisted. “I have proposed to the
Lady Isabella and she has accepted my suit. We wish to be married in three weeks.”
“Well, may I offer you my tentative congratulations,” Edward kept his voice serene even though his
stomach felt as if it had lead weights inside of it. “There is much you must still do before I can even
consider giving my blessing though, of course.”
“What else would you require?” The other man looked at him skeptically. “I have the agreement of
my intended, the blessing of her patron here at court because she has no parents for me to seek
permission from, and both Isabella and I are free to marry. What else besides your blessing is
required?”
“You do have the blessing of the Lady Tanya?” Edward tried not to grit his teeth at the thought that
the woman had sold him out. She had warned him, of course, that James was interested in
courting Bella, but she hadn’t told him that he was so serious in his suit. He had assumed that they
would take their time and court before taking such an irreversible step as marriage. He had
assumed that he had time to persuade her, as her friend and spiritual advisor, that James was not
worthy of her affections. That no man was worthy of her affections, if he was being honest. He
would have time to persuade her that her life would be better served as a bride of Christ than it
would be to marry someone in the court of Volterra.
“I secured the generous lady’s blessing before I even spoke of my intentions with Lady Isabella. I
would never have made my desires known to her without the blessing of her patroness. I have no
desire to make Isabella the center of a scandal and would have never asked for her hand if she
would anger the Lady Tanya by marrying.”
“And you feel that, in your current position, you can care for a wife?”
“While my fortune is not vast,” James nodded his head, “Isabella will never want for any luxury.
There is, of course, hardship in the life that she would have as the wife of an Ambassador, but I
believe that I have mitigated these successfully.”
“What hardships have you mitigated?”
“While the life of an Ambassador involves long periods of time away from home and traveling
between various courts, I have secured the written promise of my King that I will be the
permanent Ambassador to Volterra as long as I desire the position. Since we will remain in
Volterra, Isabella will be able to keep company with her friends and her former patroness. If, at
some point, she decides that a life of travel is not to her liking, then we shall retire to my estate or,
if she prefers, to the one my mother intends to gift upon her.”
“Your mother intends to gift an estate upon Isabella?” Edward raised an eyebrow at the bag of
wind standing in front of him, who attempted to flaunt his meager position.
“It is a tradition in our family. My grandmother gifted my mother an estate outside of Paris at her
own marriage as a retreat from her duties, and she gifted it upon my older brother’s wife. My wife
is to be given a second country estate near Marseilles that my family has used as a retreat. While it
isn’t as impressive as some, the estate is sizable enough to provide for a family should Isabella
choose to make it our home.”
“It seems you have thought of everything,” Edward ground out.
“I would not waste your time otherwise, Archbishop,” the other man smiled cunningly again. “I
know that you are rumored to be a good friend to the Lady and I would not insult you by asking for
your blessing without proving to you first that I am a man of good standing.”
“I do believe myself to be a friend of Isabella’s,” Edward agreed, “and I would not see her marry a
man who is undeserving of her.”
“Yes,” James agreed, “I was told that you were quite fond of her, almost fraternal in your regard. I
can understand your hesitation is in regard to her well being. Thankfully though, both the Lady,
herself, and her patroness, Lady Tanya, can vouch for what I hope they see as my good character.”
Edward stared hard at the French Ambassador and saw the resolve lingering in the other man’s
eyes. He was very subtle about asserting his position and Edward had no doubt that if he were to
refuse his suit that James had more than a weak suspicion about his feelings for Isabella.
“Yes,” he nodded curtly. “Thankfully for you, the Lady Isabella and the Lady Tanya believe that you
are possibly a good man and a good potential match for Isabella. Your foresight into the matter of
her care and well being show that you are diligent and forward thinking, things to be commended
in a man who seeks to be a husband.”
“Then we are in accord? You will announce my formal engagement to the Lady Isabella in
tomorrow’s mass?”
Tomorrow? Edward tried to keep his jaw from unhinging. The man wanted him to formalize their
engagement tomorrow? What scheme was he planning that required his betrothal so rapidly? “Isn’t
that rather soon, my son?”
“I would not wait,” James replied smoothly. “There are others who seek to woo my Isabella.”
“You do not trust the lady?” Edward tried not to scoff at the mere suggestion that Isabella would
behave in such a manner as he was suggesting.
“I trust the lady with my entire being. If she asked for it, I would willingly hand her a sharpened
blade and allow her to shave me with it blindfolded. I trust her with my life, my fortune, my heart,
and as the mother of my future children. I trust that she will not entertain other suitors as easily as
I breathe the morning air.”
“Then what, I ask you again, is the haste?”
“While I trust my lady to ignore the suit of others, let us say that not all of her suitors are men who
I would trust with my arch enemy’s prize pig. It may surprise someone of your holy orders to know
that there are those in this court who are not pious and God fearing men that seek to woo in a
gentlemanly fashion for the sake of matrimony.”
“You refer to the Lord Black?”
“If by the Lord Black you refer to the Spanish whoremongering, Satan loving, dockside pimp that
the Spanish Ambassador calls ‘nephew’, then yes, I am referring to the same man. We have
already had reason to quarrel over the Lady Isabella. He continues to lavish unwanted attention on
her in what some, myself especially, consider to be far too forceful of a nature.”
“You worry for her emotions?”
“I worry for her safety,” James contradicted. “Not to mention her honor. She would not be the first
innocent lady that Black had forced his way upon. Luckily, she would be one with the protection of
my name and body, were such a horrible occurrence to come to pass.”
“Well,” Edward sighed and tried to fight the weariness of his soul as he conceded his defeat. He
had only one gambit left to attempt and his heart was heavy with fear that it would be
unsuccessful as well. “I must talk, of course, with the Lady Isabella. If she confesses to me that
this match is desirable to her, and I feel that she is properly prepared spiritually to marry, then I
shall announce your betrothal at Sunday’s high mass as the lady deserves. We shall meet
afterwards to discuss the arrangements for when you wish to enter matrimony.”
“Of course,” James nodded curtly and turned away from him, striding back along the corridor
toward his own chambers. “Oh, Archbishop?”
“Yes?”
“I know that I was not Isabella’s first choice as the man to hold her heart and worship her as my
own. I know that and do not care because I am the one who has given her what the other could or
would not give. I have requested your blessing and that you perform our wedding as a service to
my Lady but, if there is some reason that your blessing is denied to us, I will not hesitate to take
our leave and marry in Siena instead. I know the Cardinal there very well and know he would do us
this service. It will upset the Lady Tanya, of course, but with Count Marcus’s continued need for
military support from Siena, I think she shall let it pass.”
“My dear Ambassador,” Edward grit his teeth. The bastard officially had him between a boulder of
granite and a pillar of marble. “If Isabella assures me that you are who she desires, I have no
further questions regarding your marriage and will announce it at the high mass Sunday morn.
Trouble yourself no more with these thoughts. If the Lady desires you then she shall be yours
under the blessing of the Church.”
“Your Grace,” he noticed the other man didn’t contain his vicious smile.
“Ambassador,” Edward waved his hand in benediction in return. Watching the snake that would
marry his Isabella saunter away, he tried to fight vainly for breath. The other man knew. He wasn’t
sure if Isabella had told him or if he was simply more observant than Edward had first thought but,
somehow, the Ambassador knew. He knew that Edward was in love with her but that he had
rejected her pleas to carry his heart. He knew that Edward had shamed her so harshly that she
would risk scandal and elope in another kingdom just to prove that she was desirable.
As if he didn’t know how desirable she was. Like he could lie to himself that there wasn’t an
invisible chain pulling him toward her and linking him forever to her if he would just allow himself
to take that first, momentous step that would destroy both of them and damn their souls for
eternity.
Stepping into one of the various private alcoves that dotted the corridor, he slumped onto a bench
and let his head fall into his hands. He would love her with all of his being forever but it wasn’t
enough somehow. There was no reason for him to refuse his blessing to her betrothal, especially
since his blessing was merely for show in the Ambassador’s opinion. His only hope of refusal was
Isabella. If he could convince Isabella that she did not love this man, then he could refuse to marry
them. One sliver of doubt in her mind would be all he needed and he could keep her heart attached
to his own even if he never held physical possession of her body. All he needed was for Isabella to
question whether or not she truly wanted to marry another man.
Chapter 17.
He jerked his head up at the sound of the timid knock at his chamber door. Bella, his heart panted,
knowing its owner even through a thick oak door. “Enter.” He grasped the arms of his chair so that
he could force himself to remain seated and not rush forward to embrace her.
“Archbishop?” Ben peered into his parlor and caught his attention.
“Yes?”
“The Lady Isabella has come to see you,” Ben responded. “She says you’ve summoned her?”
“I have indeed my son,” Edward nodded. “If you’ll be so kind as to send her in?”
“Of course, Your Grace,” Ben nodded and stepped aside so that Bella could enter the room. “I’ll
leave you to your confession, Milady.”
“Thank you.” He saw Bella smile gracefully at the seminarian as he pulled the door closed behind
him.
“Wine?” Edward asked and she turned to stare at him, eyes wide.
“No thank you, Your Grace.” She shook her head and stepped further into the room.
Edward swept his arm toward the settee and motioned for her to sit. “Do you mind if I indulge
myself then?”
“Of course not, Your Grace,” she nodded as she sat daintily on the settee across from the chair he
was sitting in.
“It has come to my attention,” Edward said slowly as he reached for the decanter of wine on the
low table between them, “that a certain gentleman has taken you into his favor.”
“Favor?” Bella allowed her face to remain impassive but her cheeks were tinged pink, either from
embarrassment or delight he was unsure.
“The French Ambassador has come to see me about formalizing an engagement to you,” Edward
continued, carefully gauging her face to determine her reaction. “Did you know about this?”
“Yes,” her face flamed even brighter and he noticed she wouldn’t meet his eyes. “James has been
most generous in his offer to wed me.”
“Generous is not a trait I would use to describe the Ambassador,” Edward grit his teeth together
and tried to keep his tone civil as he thought about the bastard trying to take away his Bella. “He is
persistent though.”
“Persistent?”
“He informed me that he wanted the engagement formalized as quickly as possible,” Edward
continued angrily. “And that he had secured your patroness’ blessing and your own agreement to
the match before consulting me.”
“Oh,” Bella’s eyes widened and he noticed her hands twisting nervously in her lap. “I’m sure he
was simply trying to make sure everything was in order before he inconvenienced you, Your
Grace.” She cast her eyes toward the floor and then looked up at him through her lashes.
Edward squeezed the arms of his chair harder and tried to fight to breathe at the sight of her
looking at him that way. “That may be,” he noticed that his voice sounded more breathless than
usual, “but I requested this meeting with you before I agreed to give my decision.”
“Meet with me, Your Grace?” She looked at him speculatively. “Whatever for?”
“Isabella,” he tried to keep his tongue from caressing her name as it left his mouth. “Bella, I must
implore you not to make such a mistake as marriage to the French Ambassador.”
“Why?” She stared at him openly now.
“He is not a good match for you,” Edward replied.
“You believe I could do better?”
“I do,” Edward replied. “It is a waste for a maiden, such as yourself, to be given to someone like
the French Ambassador.”
“Your Grace, I’m flattered you believe so but I must tell you that Volterra doesn’t have an
overabundance of young men to be my suitors and James is the best of those available. As I have
no desire to end my life a spinster, he is perhaps my most suitable match for a husband. Generous
even, some would say, considering I am an orphan with no dowry to give.”
“It is not necessary for you to marry Isabella,” Edward argued. “You could take vows and give
yourself as a bride of Christ. You would be free to learn and expand your mind as a servant of the
Church, but as a wife your mind will wilt as you’re forced into the drudgery of matrimony.”
“A bride of Christ?” She laughed shrilly then and he could see the anger flashing in her eyes. “You
wish for me to become a nun?”
“You are a compassionate and caring young woman. You would make a fine sister. With your keen
mind I have no doubt you would one day make an excellent Mother Superior.”
“No,” she sneered at him in return. “I would prefer the drudgery of matrimony, as you’ve called it.
I shall most happily resign myself to a fate of fine dresses and balls, traveling between the courts
of Europe as my husband’s comfort and companion. I prefer the dullness of sharing his bed and
mothering his children to the over stimulating environment of being locked behind the grille inside
the cloister of a country convent where I’m resigned to silence for 23 hours a day and only allowed
to speak as part of my prayers!”
Before he understood what he was doing, Edward had shot out of his chair and knelt at her feet.
“You don’t mean it,” he protested as he grasped at her hands.
“I do,” she argued.
“You can’t,” he shook his head and tugged at her hands forcefully. “You don’t love him.”
“I’ll learn,” she snapped. “He is not so hard to love. He is a good man.”
“And children? You’ll give him children?”
“That is my duty, Your Grace,” she pulled her hands from his. “To be his helpmate and give him
sons. It would seem you’re not as well versed upon your faith as you should be.”
“You would risk it?” He spat bitterly. “You could die bearing him sons and you would risk that?
Why?”
“Because it’s my duty!” She sneered.
“You don’t love him!” Edward reached out to tangle his fingers in her hair. “I know that you don’t
love him.”
“It doesn’t matter,” she replied softly and tried to jerk her face from his hands.
“It does,” he held onto her and refused to let her pull away.
“Why?” He tried not to crack at the sight of her eyes brimming with tears as he leaned up so that
they were eye level. “Why shouldn’t I marry him and bear his sons?”
“I love you,” he pleaded. “Please don’t do this.”
“But,” she started and Edward refused to give either of them any more time to think, to question,
to doubt how they felt about each other. He pressed his lips against hers urgently and felt her lips
part against his own.
“I love you,” he murmured again before pressing her against the settee and kissing her again.
“I love you,” she whispered against his mouth and the air tickled his lower lip.
“You’re mine,” Edward insisted as he pulled away from her slightly, standing and gathering her in
his arms. “I won’t share you with another.”
“Yours,” Bella agreed as she pressed her mouth against the side of his neck wantonly and he
groaned at the feel of her wet heat against his throat. “I love you.”
“Mine,” he growled again as they reached his bedroom and he dropped her gingerly onto his high
bed, watching in delight as her breasts bounced, straining against the bodice of her dress.
Jerking open his cassock, he heard the buttons from the back of it bouncing around the room,
hitting various objects as they scattered onto the floor. He saw Bella’s eyes widen as he removed
his trousers and heavy black velvet doublet, leaving him in nothing but his linen undershirt.
Reaching out, he pressed gently on her shoulder, rolling her to the side as he reached for the
stiletto that he kept on his bedside table. He was too desperate for the taste of her body to worry
with the extravagance of her lacings and, if he wanted to be honest, too determined to mark her in
some way as his own. Slicing through the laces of her dress and then the corset beneath, he ripped
the heavy satin dress from her shoulders and down over her feet. A quick flash of the knife on the
ties of her underskirt and he wrenched it away as well. An irritated toss of her corset, so that it
landed across the room from them, and she was as undressed as he was, laying exposed before
him in nothing but her shift, her stockings and a dainty pair of slippers.
He growled again as he knelt before the bed and planted a kiss to the side of her right ankle and
slipped her tiny shoes off her feet. Kissing along the outer side of that leg, he began to work along
the length of her stockings, intermittently purring and kissing as he reached the garter that held
the stocking to her leg. The delicate blue ribbons made the pale skin of her thighs seem even
creamier as he jerked each of the garters free and began to kiss back along her knee and down her
leg as he unrolled the stockings. Once to her feet, he kissed each of her toes again and then
glanced up at her as he jerked his own shirt away.
“Mine,” Edward snarled possessively as he reached out to rip her shift away from her body, tearing
it down the front.
“Please,” he could see the fear in her eyes and pulled away from her. “Please,” she repeated and
reached for him with her left hand. He let his fingers trail up the length of her inner thighs and
when he dared look down at the flesh his hands had parted he could see that the soft patch of
mahogany curls between her legs were damp in anticipation. The beast inside of him roared in
delight.
Stepping closer to the bed, he grasped her hips and pulled her toward him. She was his and he had
no intention of giving her to another. She was his love, his mate, and no one else would ever have
her in this way. He wouldn’t give her to another and watch as she bore his sons, knowing that
someone else had taken what was his. He heard her gasp and looked up to see her staring at him,
wide eyed, as she caught sight of his member. The fear returned to her eyes and he reached out to
lovingly stroke her face, trailing his hand down her arching body afterwards. Her eyelids slipped
closed and he could restrain himself no longer.
“Mine,” Edward growled as he let his hands tighten their grasp on her hips and he sunk completely
inside of her, obliterating the thin barrier of her innocence.
“Oh,” he heard her gasp of pain and stilled his hips, reveling in the feel of her heat encasing him.
“Mine,” Edward purred as he waited for her to adjust, and then reached down to wrap her soft legs
around his hips. When she quit shifting, he reached out to brace his weight against the velvet
counterpane and began pumping into her.
“Oh,” her cry sounded more surprised this time than pained and he looked up from staring at her
breasts to see her face covered in a look of pleasant shock. “Oh my.”
“Mmm,” he purred again and increased his speed, feeling her tight walls clenching around his
inflamed cock.
“Oh, oh,” he watched as she clenched her fists into the coverlet beneath her and her head began to
toss, rumpling the beautiful mahogany waves of her hair against his bed. “Oh Edward, it’s...”
“So good my Bella,” he heard himself groan and released his hands from the coverlet, letting them
come up to explore the delicate mysteries of her body. He palmed her breasts, rolling the nipples
between his fingers and watched them harden, delighting in the sound of hearing her pant and
gasp from the pleasure he was giving her.
“I love you,” she moaned and then her hips were moving, trying to meet his own so that he could
sink deeper into her.
“Mine,” he panted and let his right hand trail down her body, bringing his fingers into the slick
wetness to find the nubbin of nerves that would bring her delight.
“Oh,” he watched as she jerked into an almost sitting position when he pressed his thumb against
her clitoris and moved in a tight circle against it. The flush of her cheeks had worked down over her
breasts, flushing her hardened, rosy nipples, and was now working toward her navel. “Oh, oh!” Her
head was tossing frantically now and he matched the speed of his hand to that of his hips because
it seemed to give her such pleasure.
“Edward!” She screamed out her pleasure and he felt her walls tighten around him like a vice,
milking his own climax from his body.
“Bella,” he moaned as he collapsed onto her body, still buried deep inside of her. “I love you.”
“I love you,” she sighed as she shifted, urging him into the bed and orienting them so that they lay
properly in it.
“I’ll not marry you to another man,” he told her firmly. “I’ll not give you to another.”
“I don’t want another,” she buried her head into his naked shoulder. “I gave my vows to you and I
meant them. You’ve taken me and I don’t wish to be given away to another.”
“I’ll write to the Sisters at Padua. They have a fine library there and won’t require a dowry.”
“The Sisters at Padua?” She looked up at him and Edward closed his eyes so that he wouldn’t have
to face her. “Why would I choose to go to Padua? You are here, Edward.”
“I will not marry you to another,” he repeated softly as she sat up to glare at him. “I cannot take
you for myself, because of my position, and that means the only security I can give you is my
blessing in taking Holy Orders.”
“You can take me as your own!” Bella protested.
“Bella,” he pinched the bridge of his nose. “I am a priest! An Archbishop! A prince of the Church!
How can I keep you as my own?”
“How? How?” She snarled at him angrily and he felt her fists hitting his chest. “The same way your
godfather, his Holiness, keeps his mistress! The way countless other men keep the women that are
not their wives! That is how, Edward!”
“It’s a sin,” he argued. “I will not damn you with such a sin.”
“You already have,” she cried. “It’s too late for such worries you fool! The sin has already been
committed and the evidence of that is seeping into a stain upon your bed!”
“You didn’t know it meant nothing,” he countered. “You believed that I would return your vows,
that I was binding myself to you in front of God. To believe such a lie makes the sin mine and not
yours. But,” he ran his fingers through his sweaty, disheveled hair. “If it were to continue, Bella,
you would know that it would never be anything more, and then I could not absolve you of a sin
you intend to repeat.”
“I do not want absolution!”
“Then you are damned as well as I!”
“Fine!” She threw herself from the bed and began to pull her tattered dress up over her flushed
skin. “I would rather be damned for being brave enough to take what I want than to be saved
because I was cowardly!”
“Bella,” He sat up in the bed and reached for her, hoping that he could explain his position and that
she would understand.
“No!” She grabbed her slippers and scurried toward his door. “I’ll not hear any more excuses for
your cowardice Edward. Either you are man enough to keep me as your own and allow the world to
see, or leave me to another! You cannot ask me to give up my chance at happiness when you offer
me nothing but sorrow and loneliness in return!”
He watched then as she threw back the oak door to his parlor and scurried out of his chambers,
leaving him alone in the bed they had just shared. He stared at the now set blood stain on his
counterpane and let his fingers lightly trail over the stiffness of the matted velvet where she had
lain. Stepping out of the bed, he gathered the remains of their scattered clothes and then ripped
the coverlet from his bed before marching toward his fireplace. Reaching for the poker, he stoked
the low lying flames until they danced merrily before his eyes and then dropped the remnants of
their love into the hearth that could hold a whole roasting boar with extra space and wished that it
was larger so that the pyre would consume the evidence of his defeat quicker.
The next morning, he was pulled from a sound slumber forcefully by the Lady Tanya and a bucket
of freezing water. Sputtering, he sat up under his sheets and tried to keep his modesty by
remaining covered, even though the now soaked sheets revealed all of him to her eyes.
“What in the name of all that was holy did you do Edward?” She seethed.
“Milady,” he stuttered. “I must protest.”
“She’s gone Edward,” Tanya spat. “I don’t know what you did but she’s gone.”
“Who? Who is gone?”
“Isabella.” Tanya threw a heavy piece of parchment in his lap. “She and the French Ambassador
left sometime in the night. Whatever you did Edward, now she is gone.”
“Gone?” He felt his heart shatter. Surely this was a mistake? How could she be gone?
“She eloped with the French Ambassador,” Tanya snapped. “Most likely, I would assume, to Siena.”
“She cannot ”
“She has,” Tanya replied. “I have sent riders in hopes of stopping them but most likely we are too
late and the marriage has been properly performed and I would assume consummated without
delay.”
“Shes’ ”
“Gone Edward,” Tanya repeated. “Whatever you did, you have finally driven her away. She’s gone
and you have pushed her into the arms of another man.”
End of Book 1
Book 2.
Prologue
Rome 1554
Edward shook his head and tried to focus on the woman currently sitting astride him. What was her
name again? Something exotic sounding, he remembered. He couldn’t pronounce her name last
night, or her twin’s come to think of it, and that had been when he was still sober.
Something warm and wet slid over his earlobe caressingly and he jerked, turning his head to find
himself staring into a second pair of wide blue eyes as the hands attached to them began to stroke
teasingly over his chest. He shook his head in an attempt to clear out the cobwebs last nights
brandy had formed and gripped the hips of the woman currently riding him at a bruising pace. For
some reason every part of him felt like it had gone through the wash ringer and she wasn’t helping
the sensation.
The woman let out a sigh and slipped off him, sliding down between his legs and Edward gasped at
the feel of her mouth around him. Suddenly, the vital pieces of the night before had come back to
him. The Papal dinner; the French Ambassador who’d taken the time to so politely introduce
himself and mentioned his son, the Ambassador to Volterra, and daughterinlaw, who was
currently expecting what the entire family hoped would be a long desired heir; wine, lots of wine;
the expensive courtesans that the Pope had provided for his guests and then urged upon Edward,
his now very drunk godson. Snippets of the rest of the debauched night flashed through his head
as he tried to keep his composure against what the two women were currently doing to his nether
regions.
It didn’t matter, Edward told himself. She was a married woman and he was now a Prince of the
Church, a member of the College here in Rome. It didn’t matter to him in the slightest what she
was doing. He was happy, Edward thought angrily. Grateful that the Vicomte had taken her in her
compromised position; hadn’t held Edward’s lack of judgment against her. It didn’t matter and he
wasn’t here right now, doing this, as a way of getting revenge upon her. It didn’t matter to him
what she did now. It had been eight months and his infatuation with her had lived its course, dying
in a pitiful silence once he was away from provincial Volterra and into the thriving and sophisticated
Papal City. She had been a distraction from the boredom, Edward reminded himself as he tried to
remain calm as the second twin did some sort of complicated maneuver across the head of his cock
with her tongue while the first nibbled along the ridge along its underside.
“Your Grace!” The door flew open and Edward lost his concentration, groaning as his orgasm ripped
through him, and then glared at Ben.
“Ben,” Edward grit his teeth and began to shoo the now giggling whores out of the room while he
glared at the young priest. “I would have thought you’d learned the value of knocking before now.”
“There’s no time for that, Your Grace,” Ben argued as he threw open the door to Edward’s
wardrobe and began pulling out an assortment of articles, tossing them vaguely in the direction of
a saddle bag.
“No time?” Edward watched the man as he slipped into his breeches from the night before and
adjusted his linen undershirt.
“She’s dying, Your Grace,” Ben snapped and reached for a second saddle bag as he raced around
the room to collect the tools of Edward’s office.
“Who is dying?” Edward asked exasperatedly.
“The Ambassador has just received the message,” Ben answered. “The Papal Guard, your brother,
refused to allow the rider from Volterra access into the city.”
“Volterra?” Edward froze. “There was a rider from Volterra? Why didn’t Jasper allow the rider in?”
“They have the sickness, Your Grace,” Ben announced. “The rider brought letters to both His
Holiness and the Ambassador.”
“The sickness?” Edward felt his heart clench. “What sickness?”
“They say its plague, Your Grace. According to the message sent to his Holiness, Count Marcus and
the Lady Tanya have both passed. Their young daughter wasn’t expected to last until the
messenger’s arrival. The Spanish ambassador’s entourage as well.”
“The,” Edward felt his mouth go dry.
“The French Ambassador died in the night,” Ben answered as he threw a red cassock toward
Edward. “The Lady Isabella is struggling.”
“The,” he swallowed. “The child?”
“There was no word, Your Grace,” Ben bowed his head in sorrow. “I cannot imagine that the lady
will have the strength to bear it to term. We should pray upon it on our journey.”
“Journey?”
“To Volterra, Your Grace,” Ben snapped as he grabbed the saddle bags and then grasped the front
of Edward’s shirt. “Put your cassock on, find your galero, and, quite respectfully Your Grace, hurry
up and haul your worthless, self pitying carcass to the courtyard I have Volver and another
stallion waiting. We’ll need to move fast to make it to Volterra before your brother’s troops.”
“My brother’s troops?”
“They’re quarantining the city,” Ben explained as he half led, half dragged Edward through the
Vatican’s winding halls. “They won’t allow anyone in or out. The court physician is dead. We’ll need
to ride hard for the city and move quickly to get the Lady Angela and the Lady Isabella to safety.”
“Safety?” Edward tried to make his brain work through the haze of information that Ben was
urgently whispering to him.
“I sent for a rider from the Order,” Ben continued. “He should meet us in the courtyard with your
valet who’s bringing parchment, a quill, and the wax for your official seal.”
“My official seal?”
“The rider can go straight to Lord Cullen in Florence. He has the ear of the Farnese family. With
your letter already sent, they’ll have guards waiting for us at the gate in case the city has been
locked down.”
“Locked down?” Edward repeated as they entered the courtyard.
“Holy Mother, protect me from idiot Cardinals,” Ben growled as he reached out to rip the quill from
the valet’s hand and scribbled a short note. Shoving the quill into Edward’s hands, he glared. “Sign
the bottom of it and place your seal. We don’t have time for you to argue.”
“But ”
Ben reached out to grasp his shoulders and gave him a quick shake. “Edward! She will die if we do
not reach her in time. There is no longer a physician in Volterra. Do you understand me? You must
sign the letter to your father and then we must ride as fast as we can for Volterra. Your Godfather
is sending his army to rid the countryside of the pestilence. If you do not move, we will not get to
her in time.”
“They’re going to kill them all,” the thought pierced his murky brain. “Jasper’s being sent to kill the
survivors and keep it from spreading out of Volterra and into the lowlands before it’s too late.”
He stared hard into the dark eyed priest standing in front of him and the other man just nodded.
His indecision cleared and Edward hastily scribbled his signature on the piece of parchment before
swinging onto Volver’s back and digging his heels into the horse’s flanks. He turned slightly when
he heard the echo of a second pair of hooves and saw Ben struggling with the large warhorse he
had stolen from the stables.
“Father Benjamin,” he snapped. “We don’t have time to dawdle and Volver cannot carry us both.
Now low over his neck, dig in your heels, and ride man, because if you don’t keep up I will not slow
for you!”
“Of course, Your Grace.” He noticed the other man panting as he leaned his weight into the horse
and dug his heels into it’s flanks. “I’m sorry to be a burden, Your Grace!”
They had reached the gates of Rome and were wheeling onto the Northern road that would take
them to Volterra. The roads were still cluttered with peasants making their way to Rome as part of
their daily business. It would slow their travel time considerably until they were free from the
throng but Edward felt his chest lighten at the sight of them. If the road was still crowded with
peasants, then Jasper’s troops had not yet assembled to march and, if he and Ben were lucky, they
would reach Volterra before any of the Papal Army’s advance cavalry.
If he was lucky and the horses’ legs held then he would make it to Bella before the city was razed.
He could only hope that he wouldn’t be too late.
Chapter 18.
He tried not to think about anything until they reached Volterra. He wouldn’t think about the fact
that he could be too late to reach her, that she could have died right after the messenger left for
Rome. He wouldn’t think about the child whose paternity would be in question even if its legitimacy
was not. The child, his, her he wouldn’t think about the diagnosis that was sure to come for the
unborn child.
He wouldn’t think before they reached Florence, Edward decided. It would do him no good to think
about what had happened and that it was his fault. He wouldn’t think about what could have been
between them because it was likely that this was a fool’s errand and she would be dead by the
time he reached her.
It was his fault. All of it was his fault. He felt the bile churning in his stomach at the thought of
what he’d sentenced his beautiful Bella to with his stubbornness and pride. If he wouldn’t have
been so afraid, wouldn’t have pushed her away that night, then neither of them would have been in
Volterra when the sickness took hold. He would have arranged for his reassignment and taken her
with him. It would have been improper to keep her, living shamefully, inside of Volterra. While no
one would condemn them privately, publicly they could not have the scandal of receiving a lady in
waiting to the Countess who had begun to live in sin with a prince of the church. He would have
taken her to Rome and begged the indulgence of His Holiness, taken the position that he currently
held within the College and she would be safe and healthy in Rome. She would be toasted in the
Holy City’s fashionable circle, envied for her connections within the power structure of the church.
If he’d only not been afraid of loving her she would be safe in Rome now.
No, Edward felt his stomach revolt again. He should have never touched her. He should have let
her marry the French Ambassador and then let her go. He shouldn’t have been so self involved.
Count Marcus had privately offered to send a missive to the French requesting that James be sent
elsewhere. Bella wouldn’t have wanted to stay around him while married to another man. She
would have despised him for lacking the courage to make her his own and he knew James would
not protest keeping her away from him. If Edward would have just left her alone instead of
attempting to persuade her into a life of chastity then she would be safe in Siena now. The hill city
would have locked its gates at the first sign of plague and she would be safe inside the secured
walls now instead of suffering.
It would have been better still if he’d never entered her life. He should have counseled her to
patience and obedience inside the confessional that day. He should have walked away from that
delicate voice and the pull that it had on him. He should have known that it would be his downfall
and ran hard and fast away from her. The convents were secluded and a safe haven from the
plagues. She would have been safe inside the walls. A novice perhaps, protected by the high walls
and the vows she had taken.
It was all his fault that she was ill, possibly dying, and he drew Volver up short so that he could
lean over the horse’s neck and expel the noxious wine he’d overindulged in the night before. His
Bella had been suffering while he had drunk himself into oblivion, reveling in the spoiled fruit of a
rotten and corrupt society. He had been surrounded by decadence while she had been surrounded
by death. His stomach heaved again and Edward couldn’t stop the shudders that ran through his
body.
“Your Grace!” He heard Benjamin call out.
“I’m fine,” he said weakly. “I’m fine.”
“Here, Your Grace,” Benjamin held a waterskin out to him. Taking it from the other man, he took a
long drink of the stale water and swallowed it down.
“Thank you,” he sighed. “The wine last night ”
“Of course, Your Grace,” Benjamin agreed graciously. “A heavy state dinner and expensive wine
are hardly a suitable repast before a journey of this sort. Think nothing of it.”
“Thank you,” Edward repeated, suddenly ashamed of the actions he had taken part in the night
before and the fact that the man next to him would not judge him as harshly as he deserved for it.
He spurred Volver back into a gallop and focused on what lay ahead of him as they reached the
outskirts of Volterra.
He could see the abandoned farms and hovels and knew that the sickness had spread from this
direction into Volterra. The villagers had gotten ill, moving toward the city as a place of refuge and
brought the sickness closer with each contaminated step they took. Reaching the portcullis bridge,
he saw the tents of a makeshift camp dotting along the sides of the city wall and spurred his horse
forward. He could see the heavily masked men along the top of the walls, keeping the infected
along the walls from further burdening the dying city.
“The Western Tower,” he ordered Benjamin as they brought their horses around sharply, pulling
away from the city’s main entrance. Circling back around the refugees, the two priests raced
toward the Western Tower and the garrison kept there.
“Open the gates!” He cried out to the guard at the top of the tower.
“Open the gates!” The man screamed into the yard. Unlike the portcullis, the gates were a simple,
barred affair that could be thrown open with the weight of two men. As soon as the gate had
opened enough for the horses to fit through, Edward maneuvered Volver through with Benjamin
and his gray following closely behind. Before he could dismount, he heard the resounding thud of
the gate being slammed shut, preventing any of the sick from attempting to slip through as well.
“Archbishop Cullen!” The guardsman holding Volver’s reins sputtered. “You cannot be here,
Archbishop. I’m sorry, Cardinal. You cannot be here, Cardinal Cullen we have been visited by the
plague.”
“That’s why I’ve come,” Edward nodded. “The Papal Army is coming, my child.”
“The Papal Army?”
“They are coming to cleanse Volterra of the sickness,” Edward continued. “Where is Father
Antonio?”
“He is ministering to the ill at St. Salvo’s,” the guard holding Benjamin’s reins replied.
“Go, bring him to the castle to meet me,” Edward ordered. “You,” he pointed to the second man.
“You’ll come with me to the castle. Once there, go to the stables and find Count Marcus’s largest
carriage. I want his fastest horses hitched to it and waiting for me in the kitchen courtyard. Do you
understand?”
“Yes, Your Grace,” the two guards nodded.
“Edward,” Ben urged and the three men raced toward the castle on foot, leaving the horses to be
tended by another guard. He would need them fed and wiped down before they began their return
journey and there was no time for him to see to Volver’s needs personally.
Edward tried to prevent his stomach from revolting as he took in the horror of the main square.
The people had brought their sick relatives here to be cared for and the burden had swiftly become
too much. The older bodies were laid respectfully in place, their eyes closed and their hands
crossed in front of them. Those that had tended them lay scattered, covered in filth and rotting
because there had been no one left to tend them when they became ill themselves.
“There’s no time,” Ben grabbed his cassock and pulled him through the square, making sure to
step carefully around the corpses. Reaching the castle’s entrance, he pulled Edward roughly inside
where they were met by the sounds of the sick. Making their way toward the sounds, they found
Brother Tyler in the corridor leading to the main hall.
“Cardinal Cullen?” The monk seemed surprised.
“Brother Tyler,” Edward tried to keep his composure. “What has happened here? The courtyard?”
“We tried to contain it as best we could,” Brother Tyler lowered his head. “The court physician
separated the ill into two groups those who had some hope of recovery and those that did not.
Those that could not survive were left in the courtyard and left to the villagers to provide them
comfort. Those we could possibly save were brought inside to be tended. Brother Michael and I
would tend to those outside as often as possible. Bringing them water and giving them the rites but
we couldn’t save them. Then the court physician fell ill and died and we were left to nurse those
that remained. I know it is disgraceful, Your Grace, but we simply haven’t had the ability to care
for the ill and take proper care of the dead. I beg your indulgence.”
“You did what was right,” Edward reassured the monk with a nod of his head. “How fare the
patients?”
“Those who remain will not live,” Brother Tyler lowered his head. “They are in the final stages of
the sickness now. The only one we have hope for is the Lady Isabella.”
“Isabella?” Edward felt his chest contract. “The Lady Isabella is alive?”
“The Lady Angela cloistered them inside the far tower,” Brother Tyler replied. “To keep her away
from the others who are infected and then nursed the Lady Isabella personally. Brother Michael
takes them water each day and bread. She will not open the door to him but tells him through it
that the worst of her sickness is past.”
“What of the Ambassador?”
“He is the one who requested her seclusion, Your Grace,” Brother Tyler answered. “When he fell ill
himself, he ordered the Lady Isabella and the Lady Angela quarantined inside the tower. He had
hoped to save her from infection and protect her and the child.”
“And?”
“He was too late,” Brother Tyler murmured. “She fell ill within hours of him and the child is gone.”
Edward felt his knees tremble at the flat pronouncement by Brother Tyler. The child was gone.
Isabella was ill but she was alive. “I need to go to the tower,” he said roughly.
“The Lady Angela will not allow anyone in,” Brother Tyler protested.
“Listen to me,” Edward snapped. “The Papal Army is behind us and coming to Volterra.”
“The Army?”
“They are coming to cleanse Volterra of the plague. You must take those of the flock that can walk,
the remaining guard, and you must go north into the mountains. Anyone who is healthy must leave
and you all must hide. Do you understand me?”
“Yes,” Brother Tyler nodded solemnly.
“Get Brother Michael and begin preparing the healthy to move. Don’t allow them to take their
things, just food and water. I’ve sent for Father Antonio, the three of you must hurry.”
“Your Grace!” The guard he had brought with him raced into the main corridor. “The carriage is
waiting.”
“Good,” Edward nodded at him. “Be ready to drive when we join you.”
“Yes, Your Grace,” the man nodded and ran from the hall.
“Show us to the Lady Angela,” Edward announced to Brother Tyler, who nodded and led them
down the corridor toward the stone staircase that led to the tower. “Now,” Edward urged as they
reached the stairwell. “Make haste in your preparations. I shall see you before we leave.”
“Yes, Your Grace,” Brother Tyler agreed as he scurried back down the corridor to make
preparations.
Edward hurried up the steps until he found himself facetoface with the heavy door that blocked
Isabella from him. Bringing his fist down heavily against it, he began to pound. “Lady Angela, open
the door!”
“NO!”
He felt a rough shove on his shoulder and moved as Ben began to pound on the door frantically.
“Angela!” The priest shouted. “It’s me! You must open the door!”
“There is plague outside!” Edward could hear the panic in her voice.
“Angela,” the priest cried out again. “We have a carriage. You must bring Isabella and come out.”
“She’s not well enough to travel and I cannot carry her down the stairs!”
“Angela,” he broke in. “I’ll carry the Lady Isabella. You must open the door though. I promise we
will not hurt you. But the Papal Army is coming and you must open the door.”
“The Army!” He could hear her sobs as the reality of their situation seeped in.
“Angela,” he called out firmly again. “We have a carriage. Now open the door so that we can come
inside. Open the door and begin to gather a few of your things quickly. I have a carriage to take us
all to safety. Don’t worry about the Lady Isabella. I will carry her downstairs and we will find her a
physician. Now, please, open the door for me.”
He heard another sob and then the door opened a crack, two wide eyes peering out at him. “Thank
you, Angela,” he breathed out in relief. Pushing open the door, he followed her into the main salon
and motioned for Ben to help her gather their necessary things. Stepping towards the closed door
to the bedroom, he took in a deep breath to prepare himself.
Turning the knob, he pushed the door open and stepped inside. She lay, silent and still, underneath
the silk counterpane. Her delicate form was now wasted and the beautifully translucent porcelain of
her skin was dulled by the sickness. He could see the scabs of healing pustules and as he glanced
over her face, he felt relief that there were no more open wounds. If the pustules were no longer
forming, then the worst of her illness was over and, as long as she did not take another fever, she
would survive.
“Isabella,” he pushed a lank lock of hair away from her damp forehead. “Oh my Isabella.”
Her eyes fluttered open for a moment and he could see that they were clear of the fever’s haze.
“Edward?”
“Rest my love,” he crooned as he pulled back the coverlet and cradled her in his arms. “We’re
taking you to a physician, but for now you must rest.”
He felt her become heavier and looked down to see that she had fainted in his arms, her head
thrown back. Stepping into the salon, he met the Lady Angela and Ben’s anxious stares. Nodding at
them, he hurried toward the door, both of them following closely at his heels. Hurrying as best he
could, Edward made his way carefully down the winding, narrow staircase to the main corridor.
Once at the bottom, he began to make his way toward the kitchens and the carriage he knew
waited in its courtyard.
Stepping into the fresh air, he took a lung full of it silently glad to be free of the stench of rotting
flesh inside the castle. The two monks and Father Antonio were waiting for him at the carriage.
“You are prepared to leave?” He asked.
“Guards are going now to round up the healthy,” Brother Michael answered. “We will leave as soon
as they have assembled.”
Once Benjamin had opened the carriage door and helped the Lady Angela inside, he passed Bella
into his arms so that Ben and Angela could make her comfortable upon one of the seats. “Take
them into the mountains. Go as high as you can and still find game. Don’t stop until you’ve
reached the tree line. Once you’re there, hide. Don’t stay in the open where they can find you
easily. If you hide, the Papal Army will not follow they fear the plague as much as anyone else.
Do you understand?”
“Yes,” Brother Tyler nodded. “I was a child when the Papal Army was sent to Cupertino. I
remember well what it is to hide.”
“Good,” Edward nodded.
“Take the horses,” he motioned to Volver and the gray. “We cannot take them with us. Keep the
people moving and may the Lord give you safety.”
“Yes, Your Grace,” the two monks nodded.
“Edward,” Father Antonio looked at him solemnly.
“Father Antonio,” he reached out to shake the other man’s hand.
“I will stay here with those that cannot travel.’
“Father,” Edward began to protest. “They are coming to burn the city.”
“And the ill will need someone with them in the end.” Father Antonio retorted.
“They will not let you leave.”
“I wouldn’t ask them to,” Father Antonio answered. “Brother Tyler and Brother Michael are young.
They will take the healthy of the flock and go into the mountains. I am old and my place is here. I
shall stay with the elderly and the sick and minister to them.”
“But ”
“I fear not to be delivered unto my Father’s kingdom,” Father Antonio said gently and pressed his
hands onto Edward’s shoulders. “Now, take the women and go. The healthy will go into the
mountains and those of us who stay shall be waiting for you in Paradise. Go.”
Edward nodded solemnly and closed the carriage door. Stepping onto the block so that he could
reach the high Captain’s seat of the carriage, he stared at the two monks. “Move quickly,” he urged
and both men nodded. “May you be kept safe.”
“And you, Your Grace,” both men nodded as he motioned to the guard in the driver’s seat and the
man snapped the reins. The horses lurched forward and Edward turned round to stare as they
made their way from the courtyard and out of the nearby castle gate. He continued to stare as the
city grew smaller, disappearing behind them as they made their way to Florence and what he
hoped was the beginning of a new life.
Chapter 19.
She felt like she was on fire, burning from the inside out, parched and desperately thirsty. She
tried to part her lips and felt cool air rush past them as she inhaled shakily. “Water,” she tried to
mutter but all that came from her lips was a broken moan.
“Isabella?” She knew the voice that was floating above her. It was a man, a man she knew. A man
she had cared about and from his voice she could tell that he cared about her. She had loved this
man. What was his name? She wondered who he was inside the murky depths of her mind. She
knew his name, she was certain of it. Edward? James? She couldn’t be sure.
“Isabella?” The voice sounded worried now. “You must drink Isabella. Your throat and your lips are
parched and you must drink.” She felt a wet cloth press against her lips and tried to suckle the
moisture off of it weakly.
“Good girl,” the voice encouraged her as she sucked harder, pulling the cool liquid into her throat.
“Rest now, just rest.”
The voice wanted her to rest and Isabella felt her body trying to comply. She tried to even her
breathing out and let her mind wander so that she could fall back to sleep but she was irritated at
her inability to remember the man attached to the voice. Books, she thought to herself, cedar,
horses, sweat. She knew this man and she struggled to remember more about him. Coppery
colored hair, intense eyes, velvet counterpanes. Edward. Edward was caring for her and suddenly
all of her memories returned in a flash, filling her once again with the ache she’d felt upon losing
him.
She was dead and she moaned at the thought of it. She had died. She was dead and she wasn’t
sure if she was in heaven or hell. Edward was here so surely this was heaven? No, she thought,
Edward still wouldn’t want her and she would be away from the one man in her life that had
treated her well so it would be Hell. James wasn’t with her, Edward was. She was being punished
for her sins by being forced to face him for eternity.
She didn’t know whether to weep or laugh at the irony of it all; stuck in Hell with the priest who
claimed to love her. She was with the man she loved and wanted nothing to do with him wishing
instead to be with the man she hadn’t had the time to grow into love with, the man who adored
her. Hadn’t they both promised her in their own ways that she wouldn’t be punished for what had
taken place? Edward had claimed that her sin was committed in ignorance and had offhandedly
absolved her of it. James had told her that she wouldn’t be condemned for something she had been
manipulated into and claimed that it was the purity of her heart that was important to him and not
the presence of a tiny piece of flesh between her legs. Both of them had been wrong apparently
God had known better about what was in her heart and her mind and had chosen to punish her for
it.
“Isabella?” Edward’s voice broke through her haze again. “You need to rest, my love. Would you
like another drink?”
She felt a cold cloth press against her lips again and suckled it, drawing out the moisture as she
lamented her fate. What was the state of her torment she wondered? Was she to be blind, left to
feel his touch and hear his voice but immobile and mute to prevent her from responding? She tried
to open her eyes and felt the lids begin to crack slowly as she squinted in the dimness around her.
“Isabella?” She could see him peering down at her, his face haggard with worry. She wasn’t blind
at least. But why did her demon appear worried? Surely he was an apparition and not Edward
himself? A vision meant to torment her.
“Ed ” her voice cracked as she tried to use it.
“Shh.” She felt strong arms wrap around her and then she was lifted, her back falling against
pillows as he reclined her against the headboard. Looking around, she could see that she lay in a
sumptuous bed covered in silk but the rest of the room was dark, thrown into flickering shadows
from the crackling fire across the room. “Don’t try to speak.”
“Wat”
“Here,” he quickly pressed a goblet to her lips and she opened her mouth, allowing him to tip the
liquid in. “Drink, darling. You’ve been asleep for six days. It was all the Lady Angela and I could do
to keep liquids in your body.”
“An ”
“She’s resting now,” Edward answered. “Your fever broke in the night and I sent her to sleep. She’s
been with you every moment since you fell ill.”
“Plague,” she managed to gasp out.
He nodded and then let his head drop into his hands. “You were the only one of the infected to
survive.”
“James?” she whispered.
“He died the day before I arrived to take you from Volterra. We’re just outside Florence now; at
one of my family’s villas. It was the closest place I could think of to bring you that would be safe.”
“Safe?”
“The Papal Army razed Volterra the night after we left. They were attempting to keep the sickness
from spreading. If they’d have found us on the road they would have killed you.”
“I’m not,” she tried to wrap her head around what he was telling her. This wasn’t hell? She was
alive? Why was Edward here? “Dead?”
“No,” she watched as he released a deep breath and then smiled at her tentatively. “Thank God
you’ve survived. The Doctor told us that as long as we kept fluid in you that you would survive if
the fever broke. We were so thankful last night when it finally did.”
“Why?” She wanted to ask why he had come to Volterra to save her. It wasn’t as though she was
important to him as anything more than a possession. Was that why he had come to her? Because
he wouldn’t lose something he saw as belonging to him?
If she was more than a possession why had he given her up so easily when she’d left Volterra?
Why hadn’t he come after her? Stopped her from eloping? She had delayed for almost a day,
waiting for him to appear and plead for her to return to him, to be his, but instead she was found
by one of the Lady Tanya’s men at arms who had pressed a letter from her mistress and a bag of
gold into her hands before fleeing. ‘I understand your reasons,’ the note had read. ‘Come home
again whenever you wish. We will always have a place for you and your husband.’
They had returned to Volterra two months later, sure that she had conceived to prevent Edward
from forcing an annulment upon them because the proper formalities were not taken. She had
dressed extra carefully before they left Siena, wearing the blue silken gown embroidered with
thread of gold and silver butterflies the Countess of Siena had given her as a bridal gift. She had
indulged in every beauty treatment that the Countess’s ladies knew the day before and she glowed
from all the attention. She felt like a princess and not the orphan daughter of a courtesan as James
had lifted her into the carriage. She was no longer an orphan girl she reminded herself. She was
the wife of the French Ambassador. Madame de Marigny, as he lovingly referred to her during their
daily French lessons. She was as noble and as important as any other member of court and the
Archbishop would be required to treat her as more than a servant now that she was properly
married. Except he had been gone when she arrived, his apartments bare and the hearth cold.
Returned to Rome, Brother Michael had told her. Order of His Eminence himself that the
Archbishop return and be made a Cardinal of the College.
Angela had smuggled a note to her the next evening as they strolled the gardens together. The
parchment was heavy and she could see Edward’s elegant scrawl upon it above his family seal. ‘I
have gone away and promise that you will never see me again. I have no wish to hurt you. I wish
you happiness with all that I possess. Yours, Edward.’
“Isabella?” She broke from her reverie and saw him kneeling at the side of her bed as if in prayer
before he dropped his head into her lap. “Your son did not survive.”
“My,” she startled and her hand fluttered to her now wasted abdomen.
“They thought that there was a possibility that he could survive in seclusion,” Edward whispered
into her lap. “The doctor was sure that you were dying so they tried to save the child. Angela said
that you had made her promise to care for him before you fell into delirium.”
Angela had seen her child? Had known it was a son? Did she know anything else? Where there any
characteristics that would have told her ... Isabella stopped abruptly. She didn’t want to speculate.
The child belonged to James. It was James’s son, her husband’s son and heir. It wasn’t, she
stopped herself.
“What ”
“The sickness was too advanced,” Edward continued softly. “There was nothing that they could do.”
“Did you see him?” She couldn’t keep the question inside.
“No,” he shook his head. “They buried him two days before my arrival.”
“Did Angela say ”
“She didn’t speculate on his parentage,” Edward answered numbly.
“You ”
“Suspected?” Edward laughed bitterly. “Of course. Why do you think I left when I did? I knew there
was a chance and I knew James wouldn’t return to Volterra with you unless you had conceived to
prevent an annulment. He had said so plainly in the letter he sent to me. I knew there was the
potential for scandal if I remained, so rather than subject you to that, I chose to leave you in peace
with your dearly beloved.
“Letter?”
“You didn’t know that your husband sent me an official announcement regarding your marriage and
the things you were stupid enough to confess to him. What were you thinking?”
“What was I thinking?” Bella stuttered angrily. “What was I thinking? I was thinking I needed some
way to explain what would have been very apparent to him in our marriage bed. Better to allow
him to discard me privately rather than divorce me publicly for being defiled!”
“Did you really think it necessary to name names? Give details? You couldn’t have made it sound
as if it were a tragic, violent act done to you by a stranger? Claimed that was the reason you left
Naples?”
“First,” Bella seethed. “I don’t like to lie and I didn’t think I had a good enough reason to lie to my
husband. Second, I didn’t tell him the details of my previous mistakes, just that I was not a virgin.
Regardless of how you thought of him my James was smart enough to know immediately what
had happened. If I hadn’t known better I’d have suspected he was hiding behind the curtains in
your room! So don’t presume to tell me what I did or did not do, Your Grace! Perhaps you were not
as discreet in your attentions as you would have liked to believe!”
“Bella, my Isabella,” he reached for her hand in a conciliatory gesture. “There’s no reason to
become upset over this now. What’s done is done and because of God’s perverse sense of
providence there is no witness remaining to the secrets of our past except for us. We can repair
our relationship without the strain of outsiders.”
“Our relationship?” Bella sneered. “You think we have a relationship?”
“Bella,” his voice was soft now and she could see the wetness in his eyes. “I have made mistakes
and done you great injustices. I know you should hate me, revile me, but I must hope that
whatever it is between us, this feeling I have around you, that I’ve had from the first moment, I
must believe that you’ve had it as well. And I know that if you feel only a small part of what I feel
that you’ll one day forgive me my mistakes.”
“Forgive you?” She slammed her fists on the counterpane and struggled into a more upright sitting
position. “Forgive you? You are the cause for all of this! All of my suffering is because of you
Edward! Everyone I love, except for Angela, is dead because of you! My husband is dead because
of your weaknesses! My child,” she sobbed bitterly.
“Bella,” he clutched her hand and tried to move to sit next to her on the bed.
“NO!” She screamed hoarsely.
“It wasn’t I!” Edward pled. “I have no control over the plague, Bella. It was God’s will!”
“It was your messenger to Father Antonio that fell ill and died in the village!”
“The messenger?”
“The one who brought a packet of books to your beloved mentor! You couldn’t be content to just
destroy us, Edward, you had to send death to reign over us as well!”
“I...” Edward swallowed.
“Get out!” She mustered her strength enough to throw her arm imperiously out and point toward
the door, trying her best to mimic the Lady Tanya’s demeanor with her courtiers.
“Bella ...”
“I do not wish for your company, Edward.”
“You’re ill,” he beseeched her. “You shouldn’t be alone.”
“I would rather die alone than spend another moment in your hateful, wicked presence. Get out!”
“I lo”
“GET OUT!!!”
Chapter 20.
Six weeks, he thought to himself. It had been six weeks since she’d left the apartment of rooms
that he had given to her and the Lady Angela. He swallowed the remains of his morning glass of
wine as he finished dressing and took a deep breath before making his way toward the villa’s
chapel.
“Deus meus, ex toto corde pænitet me ómnium meórum peccatórum, éaque detéstor, quia
peccándo, non solum pœnas a te iuste statútas proméritus sum, sed præsértim quia offéndi te,
summum bonum, ac dignum qui super ómnia diligáris. Ídeo fírmiter propóno, adiuvánte grátia tua,
de cétero me non peccatúrum peccandíque occasiónes próximas fugitúrum. Amen.” He heard her
delicate alto ringing out from the prie dieu as she stared fixedly at the Sacrament. He knew that he
should make his presence known and then do the duty of his office by offering her his blessing. He
didn’t though. Instead he stepped to the side of the large, open chapel doorway and took her in.
It had been six weeks since he’d seen her. Six weeks since he’d heard her delicate voice. He knew
he shouldn’t spy on her but he couldn’t help it. The only reason he knew she existed was because
each day, after Vespers, the Lady Angela would come to his study and inform him of Isabella’s
condition. If it weren’t for that, he would think that the villa was inhabited by himself; Ben, a
confused love struck seminarian; the Lady Angela; eleven various servants; and a beautiful female
ghost who he could only catch glimpses of from the corner of his eye.
“Réquiem ætérnam dona eis, Dómine, et lux perpétua lúceat eis. Requiéscant in pace. Amen.” She
continued, as he watched, and then kissed the crucifix of her rosary. “Mother Mary,” she bowed her
head then. “Please take my child and my husband into your bosom. Give them the peace and
comfort of your holy presence. Amen.”
He cleared his throat briefly then, alerting her to his presence, before she turned and found him
watching her. She turned abruptly and gasped before she could regain her composure.
“Lady Isabella,” he inclined his head toward her deferentially.
“Your Grace,” she curtsied and dropped her gaze from his.
“It appears your health has returned,” he said and then cleared his throat awkwardly.
“It is much improved,” she answered automatically. “I trust you are well also?”
“I am much improved to know you are returning to health,” Edward agreed and silently cursed
himself for not knowing how to clear the atmosphere between them. Should he apologize again?
Do the duty of his office? He doubted she would accept either from him and he was almost certain
that his offer to act as her priest would be met with anger and harsh words.
“Thank you,” she bobbed her head again and then made as if to move around him in the corridor,
returning to her room.
“Join me for breakfast?” He knew it sounded more like an order than a polite request but he hoped
she would accept regardless.
“Your Grace,” she began and he knew that she was trying to find a way to politely refuse him. “I’m
sure you have many things to do. In fact, my time in the chapel obviously kept you from your own
prayers.”
“No,” he shook his head vigorously. “I was simply coming by to make sure it was open to those
who would choose to use it. I was on my way to breakfast and your company would be a delight.”
“But your prayers,” he could see she was trying her hardest to refuse him and he knew he should
let her but he wasn’t going to miss what could be his only opportunity to spend time with her.
“I prayed earlier,” he lied.
“Earlier?” She arched a brow.
“Yes,” he nodded vigorously.
“When?”
“When?” He swallowed.
“Yes,” Isabella repeated. “When did you pray this morning?”
“Before dawn,” he answered quickly. “I was up to pray before dawn.”
“In the chapel?”
“Yes?”
“Liar,” she snorted.
“Pardon?”
“Your Grace,” she smiled at him and her eyes twinkled. “I was finishing my assigned time of
Perpetual Adoration.”
“Perpetual Adoration?” He couldn’t help stuttering and then looked away from her and into the
chapel where he could see Ben kneeling in adoration of the Host.
“The Lady Angela, Ben and I share it.”
“Oh,” he knew his face was coloring from the embarrassment of being caught in his lie. “You
choose to take your time in the middle of the night? Surely that cannot be good for your fragile
health?”
“I find it beneficial for my health,” she retorted.
“Well,” he tried to regain his composure. “Perhaps you would care to join me for breakfast before I
perform my morning adoration? I find that I’m more focused after my stomach has been filled.”
“Your Grace ”
“Please?”
“Fine,” she lowered her head slightly and then motioned for him to lead the way down the corridor.
“Thank you,” he reached out tentatively for her hand and, when she didn’t pull away, tucked it
underneath his arm. “Bella ”
“Edward ”
“You first.”
“No,” she shook her head and glanced down. “Please, Your Grace, you were saying?”
“With your illness, I haven’t had the chance to offer my condolences regarding the loss of your
husband and son. I am very sorry that this sadness has befallen you.”
He saw her nod slightly and then her gaze returned to her feet. “Thank you,” she whispered.
“You were saying?”
“I, uh,” she seemed at a loss.
“Yes?”
“I wanted to offer you my condolences as well.”
“Your condolences?”
“The Lady Angela told me that your tutor remained behind in Volterra to minister to the dying.”
“He did,” Edward nodded.
“You said the city was razed and those inside killed. I am sorry for the loss of your mentor.”
“Thank you,” he swallowed as he felt his throat thicken at the thought of Father Antonio and the
decision he’d made.
“Edward?”
“Yes?”
“I wanted to tell you I’m sorry about ” She fell silent and looked determinedly at her feet.
“About?”
“The child,” she murmured. “I am sorry.”
“For?” He wasn’t sure what she was apologizing for, it was she who had lost a child.
“Many things,” she sighed.
“Such as?”
“For being unsure,” she started and he could see the fingers of her free hand worrying the silk of
her skirt. “For not telling you myself. Because he ”
“There’s nothing to forgive,” he answered quickly. “You did what you thought best for both of your
sakes and everything else that happened was beyond your control. You have nothing to apologize
for.”
“I just ”
“It’s not necessary,” he reassured her. “But I do appreciate the sentiment.”
“Edward?”
“Yes?” He couldn’t help but smile since she’d decided to speak with him.
“What were your intentions bringing me here?”
“My intentions? Well, my primary intention was to protect you from the Papal Army.”
“Yes,” she nodded. “But you could have taken me to a nearby convent and ordered their silence.
You could have even returned me to Santa Maria.”
“Isabella?”
“Yes?”
“I am a man and I have accepted that I am fallible because of that.”
“Yes?”
“Yes,” he answered. “While I may be fallible and make mistakes,” he continued, “what I’m not is
ignorant. Do you know what I mean by that?”
“No,” she shook her head and glanced up at him sideways through her lashes.
“Because I am a mortal man and fallible, Isabella, I will make mistakes. I pride myself on having
the humility to learn from them though, instead of being ignorant.”
“And?” She prompted.
“That means I don’t repeat them.”
“How does that relate to why you brought me to one of your family’s private villas?”
“I don’t make the same mistakes twice Bella,” he repeated. “I made a mistake with you the first
time. I was blind and stupid; I believed my position was the most important aspect of my life.”
“And?”
“And in the process of pushing you away to keep my position and standing secure, I lost everything
that mattered to me. I found that I had lost the woman I loved and the prestige I had gained, in
return, only brought me loneliness.”
“The woman you love?”
“Surely you must realize how I feel about you,” Edward reached for her free hand and stopped in
the hallway, pulling her around to face him.
“And the Lady Denali?”
“The Lady Denali was a family friend who I was honored to be named the private confessor for.”
“And her child?”
“Her child? I was given to assume that Count Marcus recognized her child as his own.”
“He did,” Bella nodded. “Yet surprisingly she looked nothing like him and bore an amazing
resemblance to Lord Black.”
“Lord Black?” He internally sighed in relief. He had been assured by messenger that the child was
dark and bore him no resemblance but, because he had not seen it himself, he had been concerned
that perhaps the child was his after all.
“It was rumored that he was the father.”
“And what did Count Marcus say?”
“It wasn’t said around him,” Bella answered. “But it was common knowledge in the court that the
child could not be his and must be another’s. Prior to the birth it was rumored that the child was
yours.”
“And why was this common knowledge?”
“The Count was unable to perform his duties as a husband upon the Lady Tanya,” Bella said
bluntly. “Could the child have been yours?”
“I thought you said the child resembled Jacob Black.”
“She did but I didn’t ask if she was yours; I asked if she could have been.”
“Well,” he swallowed.
“Tell me honestly,” she answered sharply. “You have not the ability to lie.”
“Yes,” he nodded and then studied the flagstones at their feet.
“Why?”
“So that the Lord Black would be discouraged from making his intentions toward you formal.”
“You took the Lady Tanya to your bed to prevent her from giving the Lord Black approval to court
me?”
“I would not allow that dog to debase you. He had made it clear that he didn’t intend to treat you
honorably, planning to debut you as a courtesan instead of offering you marriage.”
“And what about you?”
“Me?”
“What will I be to you?”
“I cannot offer you marriage,” he sighed. “It has been made clear to me, since we’ve returned
here, that I would not be released from my vows by His Holiness.”
“I never asked you for the bonds of matrimony.”
“You would be content to be my mistress? To be kept?”
“I would find it paradise to simply be with you.”
“We have a few weeks before I must return to Rome, my heart.” Edward looped her arm back
through his own and led her toward the dining room, his heart bursting with joy. “You’ll have time
to rest and recover your health completely before we leave.”
“And us?”
“We shall work out the arrangements of us during that time as well,” he reassured her as they
reached the doorway. Once inside, he pulled out the chair beside his own and helped her to sit,
placing a firm kiss into the crown of her hair, and breathing in her smell with a smile.
Chapter 21.
“Why are you doing this?” Angela asked as they both stared at her reflection in the glass.
“Doing what?” Bella asked absently, bringing her hands up to secure a few more pins in her hair.
“Accepting his overtures? Why are you even recognizing his suit?”
“Why wouldn’t I?” Bella tried to keep her voice light as she reached for the tiny bottle of perfume
on her dressing table.
“Well,” Angela gripped the laces of her blue dress tightly and pulled, causing Bella to suck in her
breath. “Because last time we talked you swore to me that you hated him beyond all measure
blamed him for the death of your husband and your child. In fact, you mentioned having a desire
to disembowel him with one of the cook’s knives. That would be why you wouldn’t accept his
overture or recognize his suit.”
“I’ve reconsidered,” Bella gasped as Angela pulled the laces tighter.
“It’s a sin to lie, Isabella Swan. You learned that from the same Sisters as I did. Why are you doing
this? Do you love him?”
“Is it bad if I say yes?”
“No,” Angela shook her head. “If you honestly love him there’s nothing wrong with that. The heart
loves who it loves.”
“Even if it’s difficult?”
“Especially if it’s difficult,” Angela agreed. “I’ve learned that well in the past few months.”
“With Ben?”
“He’s in a similar situation to Cardinal Cullen’s, except not nearly as exalted.”
“Really? He’s a third son as well? I didn’t know that.”
“No,” Angela shrugged. “He’s the bastard son of the Duke of Ferrara and a kitchen maid. His
father’s wife feared that he would provide an alternative heir against her son because of how close
Ben and his father are.”
“Really?”
“He sends Ben a purse regularly for expenses and even offered me a place in his court once Ben
has been ordained and returns to be his family’s confessor.”
“That’s wonderful Angela! I’m glad it’s working out for the both of you.”
“Thank you,” Angela nodded and then focused her attention back on Bella in the mirror. “Now, why
are you accepting Cardinal Cullen’s suit? And don’t tell me it’s because of love, Isabella Swan,
because you’re too smart to make that mistake twice.”
“I do love him!”
“I never said you didn’t. What I said is that it isn’t the reason you’re acknowledging him without a
paring knife in your hands.”
“I have no where else to go,” Bella muttered.
“What?”
“I have no where else to go,” Bella said, slightly louder.
“What about the de Marigny? Surely they would take you in as their son’s widow?”
“They’ve offered me a place at their home in Marseilles,” Bella sighed, “but it would be in seclusion.
I can’t go to stay with them at the Court of Rome, they don’t have a place for me.”
“And the Vicomte’s brother Laurent? What of him? Surely you could stay with him and the Lady
Victoria at their home?”
“The messenger from James’ father that arrived yesterday suggested that the option wasn’t
available. He hinted without the family’s prior knowledge that the Lady Victoria didn’t wish to
have me about.”
“Really? Why?”
“There was a bit of a scandal,” Bella muttered.
“A scandal?” Angela gripped her shoulder. “What sort of scandal would prevent her from offering
her newly widowed sister a place to grieve?”
“The Lady Victoria was originally intended to be the wife of James,” Bella gripped the edge of her
vanity as she thought about her dead husband and the secrets she was divulging.
“But ”
“The arrangement was made for her to marry James because her family is wealthy but not noble,”
Bella continued. “Laurent was to marry a lady from the House of Hapsburg.”
“And?” Angela prompted.
“A week before the wedding the Lady Victoria and Laurent were found in the garden.”
“And?”
“In a compromising position,” Bella clarified. “By her father.”
“So the Lady Victoria was married to Laurent instead of James?”
“And the Austrian lady was married to another member of the French court.”
“So she doesn’t want you because ”
“The messenger suggested that she was afraid I would try to exact revenge upon her for my
deceased husband and then usurp her place.”
“So, Edward is ”
“The best alternative,” Bella answered sharply. “It’s him or seclusion in a country where I know not
a soul. Plus, I was informed that my fatherinlaw is displeased with me.”
“Why? What could you have done during your convalescence that upset him?”
“He’s unhappy with the impropriety of my current living arrangements,” Bella snorted. “The de
Marigny and the Farnese are not close and ”
“Since the Cullens owe allegiance to the Farnese he doesn’t approve of you staying in one of their
villas? He would rather you have died when the Papal Army razed Volterra?”
“He suggested in his letter that I should have demanded to be brought to Rome if I was so wicked
as to choose my mortal life rather than quicken my journey to Heaven to be with my husband and
son.”
“So he wanted you to what end your life due to grief?” Angela shook her head in disgust. “I can
see why you wouldn’t wish to live on his grace alone. But ”
“I do love Edward,” Bella insisted.
“Can you forgive him though?”
“I don’t know,” Bella shook her head. “I’m very angry at him but he’s my best option at the current
time. What was it you told me before we left Santa Maria? We don’t have any good choices?”
“It’s better to be the mistress of a rich priest than a whore on the docks,” Angela agreed, “or a
paupered widow in seclusion.”
“Exactly,” Bella agreed, “hence Edward and his suit.”
“So the two of you are what exactly?”
“We haven’t defined it,” Bella shrugged. “He said we would work out the arrangements between us
while I finished my convalscence and before he returned to Rome.”
“He’ll leave you here?”
“No, from what I gathered, he intends for me to return to Rome with him. He told me, very clearly,
that matrimony would not be an option but that he didn’t want us to be separated again.”
“Finally,” Angela snorted. “Thank you, Holy Mother, my prayers have been answered!”
“Your prayers?” Bella raised her eyebrows and looked at Angela in the mirror.
“That you two would finally act upon your feelings for each other. Horrible things happen when you
try to fight against the love given to you. God gives you to who he intends and he’s vengeful if you
act against him.”
“I can’t believe that a wrathful God would bring the plague upon Volterra because I married James
and didn’t stay to suffer Edward’s disinterest.”
“I’d blame a good portion of Volterra’s suffering on the wickedness to be found in the court,”
Angela snorted. “And then I’d lay the blame directly at the feet of Lady Tanya. But James? Your
own illness? I cannot say.”
“Enough,” Bella felt her eyes fill with tears. “I don’t wish to think of the past and the things I’ve
lost. I will not live surrounded by ghosts. I’ve accepted my losses and it’s time to move forward.”
“Bella,” Angela sat beside her on the bench and wrapped her arms around Bella’s shoulders.
“You’ve lost a ”
“Enough,” Bella interrupted. “If I continue to keep in the front of my mind what I’ve lost I shall die
of my grief. I’ve survived and that means I must move forward. This time it will be mine to control.
I will not waste the second chance I’ve been given.”
“So Edward ”
“Claims to love me, and I love him against my own better judgment.” Bella wrapped her arms
around Angela’s waist and then rested her head on the other woman’s shoulder. “We can have a
good life together.”
“You can,” Angela agreed. “Even if it isn’t ideal it can still be wonderful.”
“That’s that then,” Bella picked her head up and winked at her best friend. “I’m to become the
mistress of the esteemed Cardinal Cullen.”
“Well,” Angela stood then and reached a hand down to assist Bella as she stood as well. “Then we
shall have to call in a seamstress so that you can begin to look the part. You can’t be seen about in
rags and the clothes from your sickbed.”
“I don’t think we’ll leave for Rome for a while,” Bella laughed.
“Yes,” Angela nodded. “But you said that you and the Cardinal haven’t yet made your
arrangements with each other?”
“No.”
“Well then,” Angela announced as she added a heavily jeweled brooch of her own to the cleavage
of Bella’s dress. “Let’s give you the best negotiating position possible, shall we?”
Chapter 22.
“Would you care for a walk in the gardens?” He asked her hesitantly as they sat finishing their
breakfast.
“That would be nice.” Edward noticed she kept her head down as she answered, peeking up
through her lashes at him. He hurriedly pushed back his chair and made his way over to her place
at the other end, offering a hand to help her rise. That would be the first thing he changed when
they were in Rome she would sit beside him and not at the other end of the table. He’d never
realized before how lonely it was when she was that far away, he wanted to reach out and touch
her but the table was so long that even if he laid flat against it and stretched out his hand, while
she did the same, their fingers wouldn’t brush.
“So,” he cleared his throat as she wrapped her arm through his and allowed him to escort her from
the dining room. “Have you given any thought to matters between us?”
“Matters between us?” She asked flirtatiously and turned slightly in toward him, batting her
eyelashes as she pressed her breasts against his arm. “Whatever do you mean?”
“Isabella,” he tried to keep his gaze focused on her face instead of taking in the swath of creamy
breast pushed up pleasingly from the top of her bodice. “I am being serious.”
“As am I,” she turned to face forward again, a severe expression on her face that caused him to
laugh. “You are laughing though. How can you accuse me of not giving the situation proper concern
when you yourself are laughing?”
“You’re right,” Edward tried to school his features but couldn’t defeat the smile that twitched at the
corners of his mouth. “I am just pleased to be in your company, my Bella.”
“Well,” her face blushed lightly and he could see her trying to fight her own smile at his
endearment. “What serious matters did you wish to discuss with me, Cardinal?”
“First,” he pulled her around to face him the minute they reached the formal garden’s flagstone
path and dipped his head, capturing her lips with his own. Pressing firmly against her, he let his
hands slip down to grasp her tiny waist as his tongue sought entrance to her mouth. She parted
her lips slightly and met his tongue with her own, letting him taste the sweetness of her mouth.
Pulling away when he found it hard to breath, Edward looked down at her and couldn’t help pulling
her back toward him, pressing his arousal against her skirts. “First,” he repeated, “it has been far
too long since I have had the chance to do that properly.”
“You’ve never had the chance to do that properly,” she corrected and he could see that her face
was now the color of summer strawberries.
“That will have to be rectified,” he murmured as he leaned down to kiss her again chastely. “I
intend to kiss you from now on whenever I get the chance.”
“Oh,” she buried her head against his chest and he couldn’t resist the urge to lean down and sniff
her hair, letting her deliciously floral scent surround him as he placed another kiss reverently on
the crown of her head.
“Second,” he stepped back from her slightly and looked down, peering into her eyes. “Have you
seen the physician yet this morning?”
“Before breakfast,” she nodded and turned, wrapping her arm once again through his.
“And,” Edward coughed. “Has he determined how long until you are well again?”
“He says my recuperation is progressing nicely and that I can resume all my daily activities. I
should simply take things slow until I rebuild my strength and rest often.”
“Isabella,” he growled, knowing that she was purposely avoiding what he meant by the way she
was biting her lip. “Has he said how long it will be until I can have you in my bed?”
“Oh,” he noticed her flush was now creeping down the back of her neck. “I assume immediately.”
“You assume?” He looked at her curiously. “Why would you assume? Has he not said?”
“I, um, well I haven’t asked.”
“You haven’t asked?”
“Well,” she hung her head. “I wasn’t sure how I should ask.”
“How you should ask?” He was trying to follow her logic and found that he was terribly lost. “You
should ask him when your body is healed enough to ”
“I’m a widow!” She hissed. “Why would I want to know? There should be no reason for me to take
a man to my bed right now! You said yourself, with your position ”
He couldn’t help roaring with laughter at the look of indignation on her face. “Bella, oh my Bella,”
he laughed. “I expect that your physician knows that I intend to take you to my bed.”
“But ”
“I have told you already, my love, I’m tired of staying away from you. If I shall go to Hell for loving
you then I’m going to enjoy every minute of it. I cannot marry you, Bella, but I have no intention
of hiding you either.”
“Well,” she seemed stunned. “What exactly are your intentions then?”
“I return to Rome in one month,” Edward announced. “Excuse me, we return to Rome in one
month. I have already sent a rider with instructions to open the villa that comes as part of my
office. It is near enough St. Peter’s that my duties will not keep me from home but far enough that
we won’t be crowded either. When we have the time I would like to take you to our country estate
so that we can have some time away from court.”
“Court?”
“You’ll be presented to His Holiness as the Widow de Marigny but it will be no secret to anyone that
you’re my mistress.”
“You intend for our relationship to be public?”
“I do,” he nodded. “I’ve given up fighting what I feel for you, my Bella. Other members of the
College have families and I have no intention of depriving myself any longer from your presence.
When we have children I’ll recognize them and see that they’re put well into society.”
“Children?”
“You do want ”
“Of course,” she looked at him happily. “I had assumed that children would not be an option for
us.”
“Isabella,” he brought her around to kiss her again. “I intend to live my life with you as man and
wife in everything but name. Do you understand what I mean? I want to hold you in my arms, take
you in public, and announce you as my love. I want to come home and see sons with your eyes
running in the garden and you round with another child. I would give you anything my darling.”
“Except ”
“That I cannot give you,” he pulled away from her slightly. He was stung that she would demand
matrimony from him now. He had been honest with her about his inability to give her recognition
under the law. “His Holiness will not release me from my vows so I cannot make you my wife.”
“I wasn’t asking for that, Edward,” she sighed and pulled him close again.
“You weren’t?”
“I was going to say, except for presenting me to your family.”
“Why wouldn’t I present you to my family?” Edward asked, puzzled.
“Surely they wouldn’t approve of our relationship?”
“They’ll want me to be happy, Bella.”
“But your mother ”
“Will love you even if you have webbed feet as long as you make me happy. Now, enough concerns
for my family. Do you have any objections to my intentions? I intend to love you, worship you, give
you sons aplenty, and drown you in riches.”
“I don’t need the riches,” she mumbled.
“And I have more than I shall ever use,” he countered. “Since neither of us needs them then I’ve
the perfect opportunity to spoil you with frivolities.”
“Edward,” she tried to make her tone harsh as he picked her up and swung her joyfully in a circle,
before leaning down to kiss her again, still shocked by the never ending pleasure of it.
“Isabella,” he mocked. “But before any of that there is one thing we must do first.”
“What is that?” She asked as he sat her back on the ground and took her hand in his, dragging her
toward the villa again.
“We need to find the physician.”
“Edward!” He smiled when he heard her shriek at the thought. “You cannot go to the physician and
ask ”
“I can and I intend to,” he cut her off. “I’ve just told you I don’t intend to keep us a secret from
anyone, including my family’s doctor.”
“Edward ”
He turned, pressing her body against his and grinding his hips against her forcefully, sure that she
could feel his erection against her stomach as he dipped his head and panted lewdly next to her
ear, leaning in to give it a sharp bite. “I want you in my bed Isabella,” he purred. “And I want to
know how long it will be until I have you there. Now come with me to find the physician and let him
examine you.”
“I don’t think,” she tried to pull back but he simply gripped her hand tighter in his and continued
pulling her reluctant form behind him, using the direct route from the kitchens to Lord Garrett’s,
the physician, chambers.
“You are being examined Isabella,” he announced, refusing to even hear her arguments as he
stopped sharply in front of the other man’s door. Raising his fist he let it fall against the oak door
with a loud rap.
“Yes?” The man who was like his uncle opened his door to them. “Edward? Is there something
wrong?”
“How long until Isabella is healthy enough to come to my bed?” He heard her gasp in
embarrassment but refused to feel ashamed.
“She sleeps perfectly fine,” he could see the humor in Garrett’s eyes as he teased him. “I imagine
the Lady Isabella can sleep wherever she likes.”
“Sexually,” he replied. “How long until she is healthy enough to conceive again?”
“I would need to examine her first,” Garrett glanced at Isabella and Edward turned to see that her
face was filled with blood as she stared daggers at the wall tapestry. “But if there is no damage,
which I don’t believe there is, I would say another month to be safe. If the Lady Isabella will allow
me ”
“Of course,” Edward pulled her forward gently.
“Edward!”
“Isabella!” He looked down and could see her eyes filling with tears as she glanced up at him. “I
want to know that you’re healthy. It doesn’t matter if Lord Garrett tells me that you are healthy
enough to be in my bed tonight or a year from now, I simply care for your health.”
“I ”
“I do not wish to ever take a chance of losing you again,” he pleaded. “I wish to know if there is
some reason that a child would take you from me. Please?”
“Fine,” she nodded slightly and he could see that she was still embarrassed as she stepped toward
Garrett’s door, her head still down.
“I’ll sit with you,” he suggested, “next to your head, with my face to you and not Garrett. I can
hold your hand if you like.”
She nodded and he followed her into the room. “Well,” Garrett went to the basin and rinsed his
hands. “If you’ll lie on the bed for me and raise your skirts?”
Edward pulled the heavy chair beside the bed and helped her onto the high bed, taking her slippers
and setting them on the carpet next to the bed. He heard a faint rustle as she pulled up her skirts
and turned to face her, taking her hand in his own.
“Oh,” Bella gasped and he fought his urge to turn around.
“Just a little touch on the stomach,” Garrett murmured, “nothing that will hurt you. Everything
feels soft and where it should be. No damage to the womb that I can feel externally.”
“Look at me, Bella,” he patted her hand gently. “Forget the physician and look at me. We shall
leave for Rome in a month and begin our lives again.”
“A gentle touch,” Garrett announced. “I just need to feel around a bit.”
He watched as Isabella squirmed slightly, uncomfortable with the other man’s exam. “Deep
breath,” Garrett instructed and Edward felt her clamp down on his hand as her eyes widened.
“And we’re done,” Garrett concluded as he reached up and tucked Bella’s skirts around her legs.
“So?”
“She’s perfectly fine,” Garrett replied. “Everything is healing well and I expect she’ll be able to
conceive again in four weeks shortly after our return to Rome. I’ll want to check her again once
we’re there but I think there should be no concerns.”
Coming to the head of the bed, he patted Isabella absently with his left hand, his right still wet
from rinsing it. “You’re a healthy girl; you’ll be heavy with child before the year is out.”
“That settles it then,” Edward murmured as he nuzzled his face into her neck and kissed her ear. “I
have four weeks to woo you into my bed before we leave for Rome, my Bella.”
“What else do you have to occupy yourself after lunch then?” She asked and he couldn’t help but
smile at the smirk she was wearing. He loved her but she would also be the death of him.
I shall die a happy man, he decided as he kissed her gently before helping her to sit. I shall indeed
die a happy man.
Chapter 23.
“Bella,” he prowled through the corridor, stopping to peak in the empty rooms. “Bella.” She had
been infuriatingly single minded recently and, while in certain areas he would have enjoyed it, his
still noncarnally worshipped mistress had focused herself toward their impending move to Rome.
First, it had been dresses, which he was fine with because he couldn’t stand the idea of her wearing
anything bought with the de Marigny gold. Purely because of how they treated her now, he justified
to himself, not because he still resented the other man’s prior claim to her. And naturally that had
led to accessories. Then it was furnishings for their suite of rooms; he tried to tell her that it was
furnished but she insisted on new tapestries and bed curtains. He’d heard her mutter something
that had distinctly sounded like ‘not having bed curtains that some whore’s been gazing up at.’ She
hadn’t confronted him and he hadn’t bothered to tell her that he’d never opened the villa,
preferring to spend his previous time in Rome inside his Vatican rooms. He’d had no need for a
home beyond that before now.
“Bella,” he crooned as he crept into the dining room and heard a crash from the summer kitchen.
“Be sure you pack enough for everyone for three days mind you,” he heard her plead with the
cook. “And no veal. I know it’s Edward’s favorite but it goes bad easily and he can’t be ill when we
arrive in Naples. What would his family say?”
“Bella?” He stepped into the kitchen and the heavyset, elderly woman who acted as their cook
acknowledged him gratefully.
“Your Grace!” She curtsied. “The Lady Isabella was just instructing me in my duties.”
“What a futile effort,” he winked at the cook. “For surely the best cook between here and Sicily
doesn’t need instructions? You’ve sent my family off how many times from here and never an
incident even with Emmett’s appetite we were always well fed between our stops.” The cook
beamed at him.
“Oh,” Bella blushed and glanced at her feet. “I was only trying to help,” she muttered.
“Bella?” He prompted and she glanced up at him before fixing her eyes upon the floor. “Giovanni
needs to know what books you want to take to Rome from the library?”
Her head perked up immediately and she smiled at him. “Really? I can take some books with us?”
“The library is quite extensive,” Edward shrugged “But I’m sure you’ll like something to read along
the way. Besides, we’ve just received two new plays from Venice that I haven’t read yet.”
“Oh,” she threw her arms around his neck and he couldn’t help but laugh at her enthusiasm.
Glancing up, he saw the cook now smiling indulgently at her as she planted a quick kiss on his
cheek and then rushed out of the kitchen in a swirl of skirts and jasmine perfume.
“I’m sorry,” he started and the cook waved her long spoon at him.
“She needs bedded,” the woman snorted. “That’s the problem with her she’s got too high of
spirits because you’re not bedding her.”
Edward felt his eyes bulge slightly at the woman who’d come from England with his father. “Don’t
think I don’t know everything that’s going on in this house, young man,” she chuckled. “She’s been
healing up and Lord Garrett told you to stay out from between her thighs. Good advice until now.
The girl’s healed up and you need to bed her before she starts taking this place apart with all her
nervous energy.”
“Garrett said ”
“I imagine whatever time he gave you was an approximation and I’ll tell you now that I was there
when your mother delivered every one of you boys. Never did last as long as the doctors said she
needed before she had the itch again.”
Edward grimaced at the thought of his mother having an ‘itch’ of any kind. “That girl’s just like the
Lady Esme, beneath all them manners and her blushing, she’s a lusty one. If you’re not careful she
might just wear you out. How long until the Lord Garrett’s magical day of healing?”
“Three days,” Edward grumbled.
“Why are you standing in my kitchen then?” She waved her spoon at him menacingly. “I’ll not have
another child to dawdle on my knee if you don’t get to work! We all know the Lady Rose is a barren
one and that Alice isn’t ever going to be a lady, so ain’t no use in pretending her children will ever
be anything more than groomsmen and stable boys. You,” she glared at Edward. “You are what’s
between me and a handsome little man to spoil with jam cookies and to get sticky kisses from.”
“I ”
“Almost wept,” she continued, “when they sent you to be ordained. Always were my favorite child
sweet as honey, you were. Always brought me toads and things from the garden and traded
them for a sweet. Kissed my cheek and then ran outside to taunt your brothers with what you had.
I always kept two spare in reserve because I knew that first Emmett would hit you and take it and
then when you retrieved the second, Jasper would take it from your hand. Now,” she turned
serious again, reminiscence over. “You go bed that girl, get her out of my hair, and work on that
baby for me to spoil.”
“Um?” Edward glanced around awkwardly. Should he just leave? Would she think he and Bella were
making love right then?
“I’m not getting any younger,” she snapped. “Go on. It’ll be judgment day before her back hits the
sheets if you’re this indecisive.”
“Do you ”
“Go!” She pointed her spoon at him like a sword, commanding him. “And for your knowledge,
young man, the library tables are nice and sturdy.”
He shook his head as he sauntered out of the kitchen and toward the library where Bella was no
doubt driving the Cook’s husband, Giovanni, insane. He tried very hard not to think about the fact
that his childhood tutor’s wife knew how sturdy the tables were where he’d taken his lessons. ‘I
wonder if they ever ’ he shuddered at the image of the two elderly people having sex and vowed
to suggest having the library tables revarnished before he and Bella returned.
“Ah milady,” he heard Giovanni’s soft lilt through the open doorway. “I think you’ll find that book is
rather dry. Mainly medical books in that section of the library. Lord Cullen keeps them here for his
and Lord Garrett’s use.”
“Oh, well,” he could hear her stammering. “Perhaps ”
“We’ve some new novels,” Giovanni suggested, “several new plays as well very popular work.”
“Do you think I should? Perhaps it would be better if I read on a religious subject matter?”
“And look like a provincial when you reach Rome?” Giovanni snorted. “No, no milady. This isn’t the
Court of Volterra; no one will pretend to be pious in Rome. If you aren’t in fashion you’ll be
eviscerated in society there.”
“Oh,” he could hear the surprise in Bella’s voice.
“Perhaps it would be best if you let me arrange what books you should be reading before you
arrive in Rome and you could go rest up for your journey, Milady?”
“Well,” he could hear Bella’s indecision and decided it was time to make his presence known.
“Bella?”
“Your Grace,” Giovanna bowed his head slightly as a sign of respect.
“Giovanni,” Edward smiled at the other man. “I trust you’ve got everything I requested packed?”
“Of course, Your Grace. And for the Lady Isabella as well.”
“Just as I suspected,” Edward nodded. “You and Elizabeth treat us too well. You manage everything
down to perfection.”
“It’s a pleasure to do our duty to your family well, Sir. As you remember from your childhood ”
“There is no point in doing something unless you do it properly and thoroughly,” Edward finished.
“You make an old lesson master proud, Your Grace.” Giovanni smiled at him indulgently. Edward
knew he had always been the other man’s favorite pupil; his brothers had been too distracted to be
of any use at their lessons.
“Bella,” he reached for her hand and began to tug her out of the library. “It’s best if we let
Giovanni finish his packing.”
“I was trying to help,” she insisted. “I have nothing to do!”
“Actually,” Edward tugged her into a nearby window alcove and pressed himself up against her. “I
can think of something you can do to keep yourself occupied.”
“Edward!” Her eyes widened. “Lord Garrett said ”
“It’s only three days,” he murmured against her lips. “Surely three trifling days is meaningless.”
“Edward,” he reached down to pull up the side of her skirt and let his hand trail up her thigh in its
wake. Letting the back of his hand move up her inner thigh, he smiled as she gasped against his
mouth.
“You want to,” he purred,leaning down to kiss her. “I can tell.”
“Yes but ”
“Isabella,” he crooned and leaned in to kiss her again, letting his fingers slip up between the apex
of her thighs she was drenched in her arousal and he felt his pulse quicken.
“It’s the middle of the day! What will people say?”
“There’s no one here but the servants,” Edward argued. “And I expect they’ll be happy to have
your nervous energy put to good use elsewhere.”
“But it’s not ”
“I want you,” Edward interrupted before reaching down to sweep her into his arms. “Now.”
Before she could open her mouth, he pressed his lips down on them and began to follow the
corridor he had raced through so many times as a child to his chambers. Once there, he shifted her
weight onto his left arm, using the right to push open his door, internally cursing at the weight of
it. Once it was open, he reached out to grab her knees again with his right hand and stalked into
the room, dropping her onto the large bed they had been platonically sharing until now.
“Edward,” Bella panted, lying on her back in the middle of the bed. He grabbed her ankles and
spun them so that she lay properly in it before rucking up her skirts and settling between her
thighs. “Don’t you think we should ”
He buried his head between her legs and began to lap at her clit furiously. Bella began to squirm,
arguments forgotten, as he attacked her sex with his tongue. The juices poured from her and when
he was sure that she was close, he pressed two fingers inside of her, twisting until he found the
tender spot on her front wall that made her writhe.
She let out a strangled moan of pleasure as her walls clamped around his fingers and her orgasm
shook her. Reaching down with his free hand he pulled loose the buttons on his trousers and freed
his straining erection. Crawling up the length of her body, he knelt in front of her and yanked the
bodice of her gown down with one hand while the other scooped her breasts out of the square
neckline. Once they were free, he bent his head and began to suckle at her nipples, alternating
between laving at them and flicking them with the point of his tongue while she wiggled
underneath him. A hard suckle on her right breast and a slight nip at the hardened nipple caused
her to whimper and he released her breast, puckering his lips to blow cool air across the sensitive
nipple as she thrashed beneath him. She was biting her lower lip and he leaned his head down to
kiss her, sucking its succulent plumpness into his own mouth, tracing it with his tongue.
A slight shift of their positions and he buried himself fully inside her wet heat on the first thrust.
“Bella,” he panted against her lips as his hips began to work in an instinctual rhythm.
“Edward,” she mewled as she raised her hips to meet his own. Picking up speed, he felt her tiny
hands reach up to claw at his shoulders, her head beginning to toss back and forth as she pressed
her hips harder against his own.
“Oh love,” he gasped. “I’m not going to ”
Her walls clamped around his cock and began to milk it as her second orgasm took hold. With a
loud moan, he let go and felt his release flood inside of her. A moment later, he stilled above her,
careful to keep his weight on his elbows and not collapse on top of her. “I love you,” he whispered
and then pecked her lips chastely.
“Mmm,” she stretched slightly as he slipped out of her and collapsed onto his side next to her. “Yes
you do.”
“Bella!”
“What? Oh, I love you as well, Edward.”
“Really?” He looked down at her suspiciously.
“Mmmhmm ,” she purred again and snuggled against his shoulder, closing her eyes. He reached
down to grab the extra coverlet to pull over them and once he’d drawn it over her body, looked
down to find that she was fast asleep. Wrapping his arms around her, he let his head fall onto the
pillow and drifted off as well. Tomorrow they would be returning to the world and he was anxious
to see the reception that awaited them.
Chapter 24.
She peeked at him over the top of her novel and wet her lips nervously. He was staring out the
curtained opening of their carriage window, watching the Neapolitan countryside go by, completely
calm. How could he be so calm? They were less than an hour from the city of Naples and he acted
as if nothing had changed from three days ago.
Bella bit her lower lip, gnawing on it as she tried to focus again on her book and resist the urge to
smooth down the skirt of her freshly donned gown or fiddle with her perfectly done hair. Edward
had been courteous enough for them to stop just outside of Naples last night so that she could
meet his family earlier and still fresh rather than at the end of a long journey, tired and
bedraggled. Not that it would matter, she was sure her reception would be strained at best and
most likely bitterly cold.
“You’re nervous,” he announced suddenly, turning to face her.
“Obviously,” she shook her head and felt the tiny sapphire earrings jingle. She had purposely
chosen the most modest of all the jewels Edward had bought her, not wanting to appear
impoverished but not wanting them to think she was after his wealth and the material frivolities he
could provide to her as his mistress.
“Why?”
“Because,” she closed her book and sat it beside her on the carriage seat, “they’re your family.
What if they hate me?”
“Why would they hate you? They’ve never met you.” Edward laughed. “I’d like to believe that my
family is enlightened enough that they don’t hate people before they’ve had the opportunity to
meet them. Besides, if what I’ve gleaned from the cook is true, very favorable reports have been
sent about you from the servants of our Florence villa back to the servants here. My mother of
course will have gotten a full accounting about you then from her ladies maid.”
“But I’m your mistress!” Bella insisted. “Surely they aren’t going to approve?”
“Honestly?” Edward shrugged. “No, they won’t approve.”
“So they’re going to hate me. Your mother cannot be pleased that I’ll be a guest in her home.”
“Bella,” he reached out to grab her hand and pulled her out of her seat and into his lap. She shifted
slightly against him, trying to focus on their conversation and not the fact that he wasn’t wearing
his robes but regular traveling breeches that fit snugly to his hips and legs, setting off his muscular
frame to its best advantages.
“My parents won’t approve of our situation,” Edward continued, “but they’ll like you very much. My
father and brothers won’t care one way or the other all of them have suggested that I take a
mistress at one time or another. And Rosalie, well Rosalie is a vain, wicked shrew of a woman that
hates anyone she believes will steal from her glory. She’ll hate you simply on principle.”
“And the Lady Esme?” Bella swallowed. “How will the Lady Esme feel about it?”
“She’ll rage about the situation,” Bella grimaced and Edward began to rub soothing circles into her
back. “The only cross words I can ever remember between my father and mother were in regards
to my ordainment. She fought him vehemently against it but he wouldn’t waver. Now that I have
found a woman to share my life with, she’ll be enraged that my godfather has refused my repeated
requests to renounce my vows. She had always hoped that this day would come and I would be
released from my vows to marry.”
“So,” Bella looked at him warily. “She’ll want us to be apart because we’re not married?”
“No,” Edward pulled her closer and kissed her at the juncture of her neck and shoulder. “She’ll tell
us to take our happiness anyway that we can. She won’t like our situation but she’ll understand
that she’s as powerless to change it as we are.”
“So when you say she’ll be enraged ”
“I meant at the church,” Edward clarified. “My mother will resent that the church is preventing us
from marrying and I imagine she’ll be worried about your welfare.”
“My welfare?”
“You have chosen what some would consider a precarious position,” Edward muttered. “There is no
security for you. If I die then you inherit nothing.”
“James died and I inherited nothing.” Bella argued.
“Yes, but society would not even expect my parents to offer you and our children the hospitality of
our home. And Bella,” he ran his hand up the tight stomacher on her bodice.
“Yes?”
“There will be children,” Edward murmured against the skin of her shoulder as he shifted his hips
against her bottom, pressing his hard length into the fabric of her skirt. “Very soon.”
“You can’t,”
“You want to have children?” Edward persisted.
“I want to have your children,” Bella confirmed.
“Then,” Edward announced as he grabbed her hips and shifted her around so that she was
straddling him, “I am going to give you children. You want to start having children now?”
“Yes,” Bella whispered as she dropped her forehead to rest against his. She tried to fight the swell
of hope in her chest. Lord Garrett had told her it was possible that she couldn’t bear children, even
though he’d felt nothing out of the ordinary during his exam prior to their departure. She knew that
she was in a precarious position as Edward’s mistress but children could cement her future
security. And, if she was being honest, she wanted children because she wanted children. A tiny
part of her mind reminded her that what she wanted were Edward’s children.
“You desire children now,” Edward began to pull up the front of her skirts, bringing his hands up
along the tops of her stockings to stroke between her naked upper thighs and let his fingers drag
teasingly against her sex. His fingers pressed against her clit and she immediately felt herself
become wet. “And because I want to give you everything you desire,” Edward continued, “I will be
between your thighs every day until we know that you’re carrying our child.”
“Edward,” Bella stammered as he let go of her waist, lifting his hips to undo the laces of his
breeches and slide them down his thighs.
“Every day,” he repeated decisively. “Multiple times a day if you think that will help. Starting
immediately.”
“Edward!” She gasped as his thick, hard cock began straining toward her, the head bobbing. He
began to rub on her sensitive bundle of nerves with his fingers and Bella felt her stomach muscles
clench as she became instantly aroused. “We’re almost to your parents’ home!”
“Then this is just the thing to calm your nerves,” he chuckled as he lifted her hips and angled her
so that the head of his cock was against her opening.
“Edward,” she tried to make it sound like an admonishment and not a moan.
“Please? Please my Bella, let me love you?” The carriage jolted and caused the tip of Edward’s cock
to slip into her and Bella couldn’t hold back the tiniest whimper of pleasure that escaped her. His
smile widened and he pressed down on her hips, slowly sinking her body onto him as her walls
stretched to accommodate his length and girth. She pressed her hands down on his shoulders and
prepared to raise herself along the length of him as the carriage jostled again, sinking her farther
onto him, the constant sway moving him inside of her in delightful ways.
“Just relax,” Edward moaned as he held her hips, letting the carriage move her around his length.
“Enjoy the sensations.”
“Oh,” Bella whimpered as they hit a bump in the uneven road and it pressed Edward further inside
of her as the bump and sway of the carriage began to set its own erotic rhythm.
“Mmm,” Edward groaned in approval as he buried his head into her neckline, licking along the top
of her breasts, occasionally nipping at the flesh. She felt his hips begin to flex upward, straining for
more friction and she began to grind herself against his length. Throwing his head back to suck in
air, Edward released her hip with his right hand and grabbed for his formal walking stick, sharply
knocking twice on the carriage roof ordering their driver to drive faster. Bella heard the crack of
the driver’s whip over the horses head and the carriage began to move faster; immediately the ride
becoming rougher as the horses now raced along the road.
“Oh,” she gasped as the rocking of the carriage plunged Edward’s cock into her forcefully. “Oh my.”
“Oh fuck,” Edward groaned as he tightened his hold on her hips, throwing his head back against
the top of the leather seat. She felt his hips begin to shift with the jostling of the carriage, pushing
his cock further into her with each roll and sway. Bella tried to shift, achingly close to her orgasm,
wanting to match his thrusts and bring him to completion with her.
“Just,” Edward gasped. “Just hold onto me and let me bring you pleasure.”
Nodding, a lock of what had once been an elegant coiffure fell into her eyes and Bella wrapped her
arms tight around Edward’s neck, as he buried his face into her heaving breasts.
“I love you,” Edward groaned loudly. “I love you so much!”
A sharp jolt of the carriage and he slammed roughly inside of her, his hands bruising her hips, the
friction of his body against her clit sending Bella over the edge. “Edward,” she gasped as her walls
tightened around him and her body began to shake as she climaxed.
“Oh, Bella,” he moaned into her chest, his hips jerking forcefully twice and then more shallowly as
his orgasm subsided. “Mmmmm,” he purred against the top of her flushed breasts as his hips
stilled.
Bella began to card her fingers through his disheveled hair and leaned forward to kiss his brow.
“We’re doing that again on the way to Rome,” Edward chuckled. “But perhaps next time you’ll allow
me to bend you over one of the seats? Imagine how that would feel, my lovely Isabella.”
“Hmm,” she blushed at the thought of how the motion of the carriage could enhance their
lovemaking in that position. Edward had yet to take her that way and she was curious about how it
would be. Raising her head from his, she took a deep breathe and realized that the carriage was no
longer moving. “Edward?”
“Hmm?”
“We’re not moving.”
“I expect the driver heard the commotion and had the decency to stop somewhere for us to finish,”
Edward muttered.
“So he’s ”
A sudden rap on the door interrupted and before she could resume her thought, the door swung
open. A pale, blonde man with Edward’s jaw line stared at both of them his lips pursed slightly.
“Um,” Edward’s voice sounded strangled as he shifted Bella into a more respectable position,
bringing her off his lap and onto the seat next to him, pulling down her skirts as he hastily shifted
his breeches back in place and began to fumble with the laces. “Apparently not.”
“You must be the Lady Isabella.” The blonde man held out a hand for her and Bella reached for it
tentatively, letting the man help her from the carriage. “I’m Lord Carlisle.”
“Lord ” Bella looked around her to see that she was now in a large courtyard, an enormous white
villa in front of her and a large group of people standing in front of it. She could tell some were
servants, including the dark haired, young woman who could barely suppress her giggles; but the
rest an older woman who strongly resembled Edward with her mouth tight; a sneering, younger,
blonde woman; a large, young man with a wide smile on his face; and a second, thinner man in a
military uniform who’s lips were twitching at the corners were definitely not servants.
“Bella,” Edward sounded strangled behind her and Isabella turned her head to see him hurriedly
tying his breeches closed, “let me introduce you to my family.”
“Your ” All her worst suspicions were confirmed. They had just been Bella felt her cheeks flame
in the carriage as it arrived at his parents’ villa. She pressed her thighs together and felt the
stickiness of his release between them, reminding her of what exactly they had just heard. “Oh,”
she swallowed and dipped into a slight curtsey for the blonde man still holding her hand. “It’s a
pleasure to meet you.”
“And you as well.” She glanced up to see that instead of being set in anger, the man’s lips were
actually pursed to prevent him from laughing at the situation his eyes dancing merrily as he
glanced between Edward and Bella. “Welcome to your new family home.”
“Well,” the blonde woman huffed and Bella looked over to see her twirl around her skirts flying
behind her as she stormed back into the villa.
“Don’t mind Rosalie,” Edward muttered as he took her hand from his father and led her over to
meet the rest of the family. “She’s always like that. Come and meet my mother.”
“Isabella,” the caramel haired woman held her arms out and embraced Bella tightly. “Welcome to
our home.”
“Um, thank you,” she swallowed. “I’m so”
The other woman giggled breathlessly. “Don’t worry about it,” she whispered into Bella’s ear. “He
isn’t the first man in this family to use the carriage for a sexual escapade.”
“You have a beautiful home Lady Cullen,” Bella stammered.
“Esme, dear, you must call me Esme.”
“Hello Isabella,” the larger of the two young men pulled her from his mother’s arms and bowed low
over her hand. “I’m Emmett and it’s a pleasure to meet the woman who’s made my brother so ”
he chuckled.
“Happy,” the other young man cut in. “I’m Jasper and if you’ll excuse us,” he grasped Emmett’s
shoulder and Edward’s. “I’m sure you’ll like to rest we have some business to discuss.”
“Of course,” she nodded and then glanced at Edward, who looked back at her and shrugged.
“Alice,” he motioned toward the giggling, young woman Bella had seen as she stepped out of the
carriage. “Take Isabella to the apartments she’ll be sharing with Edward and then you can retrieve
her and my mother some refreshments.”
“Yes, Lord Jasper,” the woman curtseyed. “If you’ll follow me, Signora?”
Bella nodded dumbly as she stumbled along behind the graceful maid; her face flushed, hair in
disarray, and Edward’s seed drying on her legs.
“Miss?” The maid broke in suddenly.
“Yes?”
“Um,” the maid smirked. “I can see your nipple.”
“What?” Bella glanced down and sure enough, Edward had tugged the top of her bodice down
earlier and now her left nipple peaked out jauntily. She wasn’t sure that her introduction to her
lover’s family could have possibly gone any worse.
Chapter 25.
“What were you thinking?” Jasper hissed as they dragged Edward down the corridor to their
father’s office.
“I’ll admit it was poor timing,” Edward grumbled, “but the only person who seems terribly offended
is Rose. I would think with the number of times we’ve all caught you going after Alice in the stables
would still your tongue about one indiscretion on my part.”
“I don’t think,” Emmett broke in nervously.
“Your brother wasn’t talking about your sexual conquests,” his father answered in boredom. “I
believe his anger is over the fact that you had the gall to bring her here at all.”
“Exactly!” Jasper snapped. “Have you totally lost your wits, Edward?”
“She’s the woman I intend to spend my life with,” Edward shrugged. “If I remember correctly, all
three of you have suggested I find a mistress at some point or other. You, Jasper, even offered to
help me find myself one during your last visit with me in Rome.”
“Fine!” Jasper threw his hands up in the air. “Take a mistress. But don’t throw her in our faces.
Keep her where she rightfully belongs!”
“In the servants’ quarters with yours, bowing and scraping?” Edward snarled.
“Better than flaunting her before all and sundry. And at least Alice doesn’t cause political scandal
that could ruin us!”
“And somehow Isabella does?” Edward arched an eyebrow. “How exactly can a widow who spent all
of her life, until three months prior to her wedding, in a convent be a political scandal to us? Or are
you suggesting that James de Marigny is still alive? Because I can assure you that I was there
when his family received the news of his death.”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Jasper seethed.
“I think,” Carlisle broke in, “once again, what your brother is trying to say is that Isabella’s
presence does put him in a rather precarious position in regards to his Papal commission. Seeing
as she somehow managed to escape from the city he was sent to ‘contain’ with his own brother,
who also happens to be a prince of the Church.”
“Isabella wasn’t in Volterra,” Edward lied casually. “She fell ill in Siena.”
“Liar,” Jasper snapped. “No one else fell ill in Siena.”
“The Count and Countess kept her confined with her lady’s maid as soon as she became ill. Write
them and ask.”
“She was in Volterra,” Jasper retorted.
“Prove it,” Edward shrugged. “You cannot, can you?”
“Father,” Jasper turned to look at Carlisle. “Surely you cannot intend ”
“If the Count and Countess of Siena want to claim that Isabella was there, who am I to anger them
by saying she wasn’t?”
“And the de Marigny? Are we to anger them? Take the chance that they’ll cause concerns for us at
the Court of St. Peter?”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Edward laughed. “The de Marigny are hangerson at the court. Do you really
think that the French King will be as dumb as the English ones have been? No, he is a Catholic
monarch and intends to stay that way. If the de Marigny do not like Bella’s presence in Rome, they
will simply ask for reassignment or bear it. The choice is theirs.”
“Politically this will harm us,” Jasper warned.
“She’s a mistress,” Edward shook his head.
“You’ve publicly recognized her! You’re treating her like your wife!”
“And?” Edward lounged back into one of his father’s velvet covered chairs. “She’s still just a
mistress in the eyes of society. Her political influence is ”
“Considerable!”
“Perhaps,” Edward shrugged. “But her political capital in regards to the de Marigny is marginal.”
“And what of Rose?” Jasper looked at Emmett pointedly.
“What about Rose? I would think that Emmett’s mistresses would be what concerned Rose not
mine. He’s her husband after all.”
“Not for much longer,” Carlisle grumbled.
“Pardon?” Edward glanced at his visibly wilted older brother. Emmett’s shoulders were slumped and
his head hung down. Whatever Carlisle was alluding to, he’d already made his feelings plain to
Emmett.
“When you return to Rome you will petition your godfather to grant your brother an annulment
because of nonconsummation of their wedding vows.”
“Nonconsummation?” Edward snorted. “After all this time?”
“She’s barren,” Carlisle snapped. “Her duty is to provide this family with an heir. If she’s unwilling
to perform her duty to this family, she must step aside and allow someone else to.”
“And what has this got to do with Bella?” Edward glanced at Jasper.
“If she conceives before the annulment is final then the court may rule against us,” Jasper
explained. “If you’ve publicly recognized a child, then the succession is secured and the Hale’s can
petition to keep Rosalie’s marriage upheld or for monetary compensation.”
“And she did give such a substantial dowry,” Edward retorted. “It would be a shame to lose it,
especially since it bought your commission. Isn’t it funny though?”
“What?”
“You’re commission was bought with Rosalie Hale’s dowry,” Edward explained. “Yet, here you are
trying to push me into dissolving her marriage.”
“I’m looking out for this family!” Jasper argued and glared first at Edward and then Emmett. “Since
the two of you seem incapable of thinking about our survival because you’re too busy being led
around by corset strings!”
“Isabella is inconsequential in regards to this,” Carlisle broke in. “Edward will not recognize her
children formally until Emmett’s new wife produces an heir.”
“Emmett’s new wife?” Edward looked at him. “I didn’t know he’d dissolved his first marriage yet.
We’ve already found her replacement?”
“Yes,” Carlisle met Edward’s eye and didn’t flinch at his hard stare. “You will do your duty to this
family by returning to Rome and petitioning for your brother’s annulment. The Lady Rosalie shall
retire to a convent that we will endow in her honor and once she is gone, your brother will marry
the Lady Constance of Bade. You will also not formally recognize any of your children with Isabella
until the Lady Constance gives your brother and this family an heir. Then you may do whatever
you like, recognize half the bastards in Rome if that’s your pleasure, but you will not recognize a
child that could annihilate an already unstable succession. Is that understood?”
“Emmett?” Edward glanced at his downtrodden older brother. “Is this what you want?”
“The family,” Emmett swallowed and Edward thought he might be close to breaking down. “The
family needs an heir. I will do what’s best for this family.”
“Fine,” Edward nodded. “When I return to Rome I will petition His Holiness and urge him to take
this under consideration.”
Edward glanced around the room and then stood up, ready for this meeting to end. “Although, I
must say, Jasper, I’m surprised you would bothered with the annulment. I’d think you’d find it so
much easier to just put something in her wine. After all, killing innocent women and children for
political gain isn’t beneath your standards. Just ask the people of Volterra. Oh wait, we can’t
they’re dead. All of them except the woman upstairs and her companion that will meet us in Rome.
Not above it, but not very good ”
Jasper lunged forward and without Emmett’s fast reflexes would have had his hands around
Edward’s throat. As it stood, Emmett could barely hold back his middle brother. “Edward!” Carlisle
snapped. “You know I wouldn’t agree to such a thing. We are not monsters!”
“No,” Edward glared at him. “But you are hypocrites. Perhaps I should send a messenger to my
darling second cousin, Mary. If I remember correctly, you did send her a letter pledging your
obedience just after she’d secured the crown; reminded her about your devotion to her mother. I
wonder what her mother would think, now, that you’re attempting to do the same thing to Rosalie
as the Great Herectic did to her? You disapproved of it then. What changed?”
“I never disapproved of Henry’s reasons for divorce,” Carlisle said quietly. “Catherine could not
bear him a son. She was vain and prideful to think she could keep her place as Queen without
doing her duty.”
“So, we have been in exile in Rome ”
“I had no arguments with the King’s annulment,” Carlisle repeated, “but I would not bow to a
Boleyn on the throne. Once they were in his inner circle, I knew Henry would come to despair. And
that’s what happened. Both of the Boleyn witches brought him low, didn’t they?”
“I see,” Edward answered his father coldly. “It wasn’t the morality of Henry’s choices but the choice
of whore that offended your sensibilities. I shall keep that in mind from now on, Father.”
Edward opened the door to his father’s study. “Edward!” Carlisle growled.
“I will talk to His Holiness upon my return to Rome,” Edward announced. “It’s unlikely that, even if
we left immediately, I could arrange an earlier audience than the one currently scheduled. Once
we’ve met, I’ll send word on the situation to you.”
“Edward,” Carlisle sounded exasperated.
“Thank you, Father, Jasper,” Edward nodded at the two men. “This has been a most enlightening
discussion. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’d like to see my mother. She’s the only one in this family
besides the poor, abused house maids whose company doesn’t currently repulse me.”
Without waiting, he swept out of the room and went directly to his and Bella’s apartments.
Hopefully his mother had left Bella to rest and he wouldn’t have to face her when he arrived.
Slowing as he neared the corridor to his apartments, he heard his mother taking her leave of Bella
and waited, hiding in the shadows as she left in the opposite direction. Once he was sure that she
was gone, he made his way carefully to their rooms. Slipping through the barely opened door, he
watched Bella as she stared dreamily out the open window. Turning, she saw him and smiled.
“Edward!”
“Oh, my Bella,” he crossed the room in three strides so that he could gather her in his arms and
bury his face into her neck. He didn’t particularly like the Lady Rosalie but he loved his brother and
his brother loved Rosalie. Therefore, he found himself fighting to protect her. He decided to tell
Bella everything and hopefully the delicate woman in his arms would give him the weapons he
would need to fight this battle.
Chapter 26.
She followed Alice through the winding stone corridors silently, trying to absorb everything that
had happened since their arrival. She had, Bella shivered, she didn’t even want to remember the
fact that Edward’s family had seen her in a compromising position and that she’d somehow made it
worse in a way that only could happen to her.
“So,” Alice slowed her pace so that she and Bella were walking side by side. “You’re Isabella
Swan.”
“De Marigny,” Bella corrected, “but yes, I’m Isabella Swan. And you are?”
“Technically,” Alice shrugged, “I’m Alice the housemaid that keeps having miraculous virgin births
not brought about by a member of the family.”
“Excuse me?” Bella whipped her head around and felt her jaw drop.
“Oh yes,” Alice nodded. “I’ve had seven now, soon to be eight. Of course, I’m also Jasper’s wife but
no one outside the family realizes this and he’s not too keen on it being made public.”
“Jasper?” Bella tried to remember which of Edward’s brothers were which. Wasn’t Jasper the
oldest? “But isn’t he married to Rosalie of Hale?”
“No,” Alice laughed and rubbed her stomach over the top of her apron self consciously. “Emmett is
married to the Lady Rosalie of Hale.”
“So why does no one ”
“Because he’s head of the Papal Army,” Alice said quietly. “And I’m a housemaid. Unfortunately,
I’m an amazingly fertile housemaid in a house where the lady is barren.”
“You mean,” Bella gaped at her.
“We shouldn’t discuss this in the hallways were anyone could hear,” Alice interrupted. “Your
apartments are around the next corner.”
Bella followed her quickly through the door Alice held open for her and barely paid attention to her
surroundings as she ushered the woman inside.
“Wine?” Alice asked deferentially. “Or would you prefer something else instead?”
“Sit down,” Bella pointed to a velvet chaise in the middle of the room. “You’re with child; I’ll get the
things for tea.”
“My Lady,” Alice rolled her eyes.
“I’m sure you’re tired,” Bella retorted. “And it’s just Bella.”
“Fine,” Alice conceded, “Bella. Now, there’s no need for me to rest. After all, the Lady Rosalie has
never had any complaints about allowing me to serve her until the very moment I went into labor
and then expected me back on my feet within hours.”
“That’s horrible!”
“She’s bitter,” Alice said, more charitably than Bella herself was currently managing. “It’s hard on
her.”
“There’s no reason to treat you poorly,” Bella insisted.
“Hello?” another voice called out and Bella immediately fell silent at the sharp knock on the door.
Alice hurried over to the door and opened it, revealing the Lady Esme on the other side. “I’ve come
to get better acquainted with Isabella. If that is all right, of course.”
“Please,” Bella nodded and tried to remain calm. Her first real test: time alone with Edward’s
mother. After her poor display downstairs, she was terrified that it would go poorly.
“Something to drink?” Alice suggested.
“Tea,” Esme answered, “but only if you and Isabella join me.”
“Your Ladyship,” Alice nodded.
“Please child,” Esme shook her head. “There’s no need to give Isabella the wrong impression.
Come hug me properly and then get off your feet. My newest grandchild needs you well rested and
I know my son and his appetites; especially when he leaves for Rome so shortly.”
“You,” Bella looked between the two of them.
“Know?” Esme arched an eyebrow at her. “Of course I know, I’m not stupid. I was curious with
Giovanni,” she continued. “I suspected Jasper but it could have been Edward’s.”
“Edward?”
“No, no,” Esme reached out to pat her hand. “I was merely suppositioning. Edward and Alice are
friends; I simply didn’t know how friendly they might be. Like I said, I suspected Jasper and I
wasn’t disappointed. Every one of them is the very image of Jasper at their respective ages.”
“And you don’t ”
“Of course not,” Esme shrugged. “Carlisle and the Farnese have unreasonable expectations. I want
all of my sons to be happy. If it wasn’t for Carlisle’s poor choice for Emmett’s bride then perhaps
Jasper would have been free to marry.”
“I’m glad he’s not,” Alice lifted her chin defiantly.
“Oh darling,” Esme reached out to pat her hand. “I didn’t mean it that way. I couldn’t ask for a
better daughterinlaw then you but it does trouble me that the situation is what it is for both of
you. I worry for you.”
Turning, she looked at Bella. “I hope that doesn’t offend.”
“No,” Bella shook her head. “I’ve never been in a stable position. With my,” Bella stopped and took
a deep breath.
“It’s a deplorable situation you were put into,” Esme answered and we won’t discuss it again. “I
didn’t mean to overstep or upset you but ”
“You have justified concerns,” Bella agreed. “Something could happen and I would be left to make
my way alone in this world with no protection.”
“That won’t happen,” Esme insisted. “I won’t allow it.”
“But ”
“I won’t allow it. Edward would return from death to curse me if I did. My son is devoted to you
and that means I’m devoted to you.”
“Thank you,” Bella felt as though she’d been kicked in the stomach she was so flabbergasted at the
reception she was receiving from a woman who should by all rights hate her.
“I was explaining about the Lady Rosalie to Bella when you arrived,” Alice prompted.
“Oh yes,” Esme placed her hands in her lap, twisting them, and her face fell slightly. “Rosalie is a
thorny question and I’m afraid you’re introduction to the family will be marred by politics and
acrimony.”
“The Lady Rosalie doesn’t approve of me?” Bella felt her spirits plunge. The other women in this
family had been so welcoming to her she had hoped that perhaps the Lady Rosalie would thaw with
time.
“Rosalie doesn’t approve of anyone or anything,” Alice snorted, “especially if it’s female.”
“Alice,” Esme admonished. “It is a very difficult time for Rosalie. We must try to be supportive of
her and her feelings.”
“Why is it a difficult time?” Bella asked quietly.
“She’s barren,” Alice announced.
“Alice!” Esme scolded.
“She is! What good does it do to lie? I pass no judgments upon her. It’s not as if she doesn’t want
to bear children she can’t.”
“She ca”
“She can’t,” Esme confirmed with a tight frown. “She’s never been able to conceive and her lady’s
maid has reported that her flow has become spotty. When she took ill in the spring, the doctor was
called and he suggested that she has entered the end of her courses.”
“But what about ” Bella’s mind was reeling. If Rosalie and Emmett had no children and Jasper
hadn’t recognized any of his children with Alice, who would succeed the Cullen family line? Would
Jasper recognize his oldest son to secure the succession? Would Edward be permitted to leave the
priesthood?
“Carlisle has made it known that he’s sending Edward to petition for an annulment.”
“An annulment? But haven’t they been married for some time?”
“Since she’s been fourteen,” Esme confirmed. “Ten years.”
“Then how ”
“I’m sure that the case will be made that the Lady Rosalie refused to allow her marriage to be
consummated. Carlisle has recommended that she find a convent to make her home since no one
will marry a knowingly barren woman.”
“Are you sure it’s ” Bella swallowed. Was there a delicate way to ask such a thing?
“Emmett has two daughters with a former housemaid. She now owns the inn you spent last night
in.” Esme said delicately.
“Those little girls in the Inn?” Bella remembered the two girls with brown ringlets that Edward had
indulged in sweets and gold coins. At first she had just thought it was his good spirits to be almost
to his family’s home now she realized it was because they were his nieces.
“Evangeline and Maria,” Esme agreed. “Perfectly healthy girls, proof that any problems ” she
coughed delicately.
“Are with the Lady Rosalie,” Alice broke in. “Who has always been a bit sharp but has now been so
harsh that her own ladies are afraid to be in her presence. She’ll not take kindly to your celebrated
arrival during her troubles; especially after you flaunted your relationship with Edward in front of
her.”
“Surely she knows, you know,” Bella looked around flustered. “That I didn’t intend and Edward
didn’t intend ”
Esme started laughing loudly, her teacup rattling as tears leaked out the side of her eyes and Bella
noticed that Alice wasn’t bothering to suppress her giggles. “It was truly an accident,” Bella
insisted, “a tragic, horrible, completely humiliating accident.”
“You just fell onto him and your breasts fell out?” Alice snorted and Bella felt herself blush.
“My dear,” Esme wheezed between giggles. “It’s perfectly fine. It was certainly a memorable
introduction and there’s no question in my mind that my son adores you.”
“But if you aren’t offended ”
“Why is the Lady Rosalie?” Alice suggested helpfully. “Don’t you see? She’s desperately afraid that
you will conceive or Jasper will decide to throw his sense of family duty out the window and begin
recognizing our sons. It will ruin her standing in society.”
“But if there’s an heir,” Bella suggested. “Then there is no reason for the annulment.”
“Rosalie is prideful,” Esme sighed. “She would still be the Lady Rosalie but she’d have to endure
the not so subtly whispered taunts from people who know that she’s a failure as a wife. She would
be a disgrace. No, Rosalie has decided to fight back by taking on the world and everyone in it.
She’s refusing to let anyone help her in any way.”
“And it’s certain that she’s barren?” Bella asked speculatively.
“Yes,” Alice shrugged and looked mournful. “And for the record, I do feel sorry for her. The Lady
Rosalie is a bitter, haggard shrew now, but I remember when she came here as a girl. She behaves
as she does because of the situation she’s in.”
“That’s true,” Esme agreed. “She was a vivacious, witty young woman when she first arrived. The
entire family was enraptured with her. Enough sadness though. Isabella, we’ll leave you to rest
before dinner. Edward was kind enough to send ahead to tell us that you have no lady’s maid with
you, so Alice will be assisting you during your stay.”
“That would be wonderful,” Bella smiled. “Right now, I think I would like to do nothing more than
rest. Perhaps you could come back and help me dress before dinner?”
“Of course,” Alice smiled happily as she scurried from the room. “If you don’t need my help before
then I think I shall go find Jasper.”
Esme shook her head and then looked at Bella. “And Carlisle wonders how she’s always pregnant.”
Bella smiled as she held the door for the other woman and then closed it behind her, wandering
back into the sitting room to relax before Edward returned. Gazing out the window she saw the
Lady Rosalie sewing in the garden, jabbing viciously at the linen fabric in her hoop. Waging war
against the world and everything in it, Bella thought as she watched her. The Lady Rosalie certainly
was that.
Letting her eyes drift shut she thought about the poor woman in the garden. How ironic was it that
the Lady of the house couldn’t bear children and the maid couldn’t seem to stop? A cruel twist of
fate, she decided. How difficult would it be for the Lady Rosalie to watch Alice grow larger, knowing
that her family wanted nothing more than to be rid of her for failing to conceive.
She heard the door click and immediately turned to see Edward staring at her. “Edward!”
“Oh, my Bella,” he crooned as he wrapped his arms around her and buried his head in her hair.
“Are you all right?” She could feel the tension in his shoulders. “What’s happened?”
“My father and my brothers have seen fit to show me just what sort of family we’ve become. We’re
nothing more than weak pawns currying for favor and doing my father’s bidding while he does the
bidding of another master. We’re the dogs of a slave, not the sons of a father.”
“Is this about the Lady Rosalie?”
“How did you ”
“Your mother and Alice explained the situation. They said your father wanted you to petition for an
annulment so that Emmett was free to pursue another.”
“There will be no pursuing,” Edward snorted in derision. “My father already has a tentative
marriage contract with the House of Bade for one of their young women as a bride.”
“Constance of Bade?” Isabella asked with a quirk of her eyebrow. “Surely not!”
“What?”
“Edward, have you seen Constance of Bade?”
“No,” he shook his head. “Have you?”
“I had the pleasure of meeting her in Siena when she came there so her family could find her a
suitor. They offered a substantial dowry.”
“But then,” she could see Edward trying to puzzle out why the Bade would enter into such a risky
proposal with the Cullens if they had a large dowry offered for her.
“She makes the Lady Rosalie look as if she is the soul of Christian charity,” Bella elaborated. “And
her outside is as mean as her interior.”
“You mean ”
“She’s a vicious, bad tempered, shrew of a woman with a wart on her chin and the beginnings of a
mustache with a penchant for bright colored dresses that do nothing to flatter her rather large
frame.”
“Oh,” Edward nodded.
“But she comes with a dowry that could buy your father six extravagant estates if he wished and
allow him to completely refurbish them all to his liking.”
“This will destroy Emmett,” Edward groaned and scrubbed his face with his hands. “For some
reason he adores the Lady Rosalie and while he isn’t fighting my father in this, you can tell that
he’s destroyed by it.”
“Is there anyway we can stop it?”
“Not really,” Edward sighed. “I’m duty bound to petition for it and His Holiness will grant it because
the Farnese and the Bade are powerful families that would both profit from the match. The Hales
were favorites of his predecessor and supported another Cardinal in his quest for the ordination as
Pope. He’ll not be inclined to be generous.”
“So ”
“The only chance Rosalie has of remaining married to Emmett and out of a convent is to
miraculously become pregnant and to do it soon. Which, I’m given to understand, may just
constitute a miracle.”
“Hmm,” Bella looked at him speculatively. “You’re a priest perhaps you should have stronger
faith in miracles.”
Chapter 27.
“So,” Alice looked at her speculatively as Bella cut the playing cards and began to shuffle them
before she dealt them between herself, Esme, and Alice. “It’s rumored that last night’s dinner was
interesting.”
“Interesting would be the word for it,” Bella nodded as she dealt out the cards and saw Esme
grimace. Last night’s dinner had been a spectacle and she knew that the other woman had been
horribly embarrassed.
“Bella,” Esme shook her head. “I don’t know what to say about last night, it’s just ”
“There’s nothing to say,” Bella reached out to pat the other woman’s hand and then played her
card. “You’re not responsible for someone else’s behavior.”
“Yes,” Esme whispered, “but I cannot believe that Rosalie behaved that way toward you. I’ve never
known her to show such rudeness before.”
“She was under strain,” Bella soothed. Carlisle had formally told Rosalie last night that she would
be moving into her own, smaller, quarters because of the petition for annulment. She had
attempted to skip dinner but Carlisle had demanded she be present because the Farnese were
there. So she had arrived miserably pale and withdrawn. The only time she had even looked from
her plate had been to insult Bella in every way she could think of. Within an hour, she had become
drunk and extremely loud. Emmett had tried to discreetly pull her from the formal dining room but
she had been so angry it had become a spectacle in which he’d been forced to drag her bodily from
the room.
Esme played her card and Bella could tell that she was horribly humiliated. She had planned to
take Bella around to introduce her to other members of the Farnese court but instead they had
stayed at the Villa Presara, hiding in Bella’s apartments. Alice played her card and Bella stared at
her sharply. The hand had gone to Esme and Bella knew that Alice would be holding a better card
than the one Esme had played. Alice glanced over at her and winked.
“I just don’t know what to do about all of this,” Esme said helplessly. “I had hoped that Carlisle
would reconsider but with the way she behaved last night, he’s just become set in his course of
action.”
“He said something?” Bella asked as she played again. Alice simply made a sympathetic noise,
encouraging Esme to continue.
“He was enraged last night,” Esme said mournfully. “He wanted to arrange for a carriage to send
her to Santa Maria this morning.”
“Santa Maria?” Bella arched an eyebrow. She would hate to see how Rosalie would survive as a
novice under Mother Superior Catherine. The horrid woman would break Rosalie of Hale within a
week.
“It was all I could do to persuade him that she must stay here until Edward has made his petition
to His Holiness. If he sends her away prior to the annulment request, her family will claim that we
prevented her from performing her duties and the family’s name will be dragged through the mud.
The scandal of an annulment is terrible, but to have details spread about in society would be more
than I could bear.”
“And Rosalie?” Alice asked.
“I cannot help her,” Esme shook her head. “Carlisle is determined that this marriage will be
annulled. Rosalie cannot bear children and Emmett must have an heir to pass on the family name.
If there was something I could do ”
“What if there was?” Bella inquired.
“I cannot make her fertile,” Esme protested. “I have paid for every wise woman, every physician,
and gypsy herbs. Every thing that we could think of but none of it worked. Rosalie is barren.”
“Bella?” Alice looked at her and raised an eyebrow.
“I should rephrase,” Bella glanced at Alice. “What if Alice could help Rosalie? Would you be willing
to lie?”
“What?” Esme looked between the two of them and Alice simply nodded at Bella.
“You know what I’m suggesting?” Bella asked Alice.
“If I would be willing to give my child to Rosalie?” Alice asked. “Allow her to fake her pregnancy
and claim my own child was stillborn?”
“Alice!” Esme looked at her, shocked.
“I suggested it once,” Alice nodded. “The Lady Rosalie rejected my offer rather rudely.”
“Oh Alice,” Esme shook her head and Bella could see there were tears in her eyes. “You would do
that?”
“To see one of my children well placed,” Alice agreed.
“You realize that you would have to leave? Come to Rome with us,” Bella looked at her skeptically.
“If you’re here, people may talk. There can’t be servant children around that the child bears a
striking resemblance to.”
“I know,” Alice agreed. “But Rosalie will be a good mother and Esme will be here to help. She’ll
make sure that this child wants for nothing.”
“You would do this?” Esme asked. “You would do this for Rosalie?”
“I’d do this for the family and our family includes Rosalie,” Alice agreed. “But I think it’s something
best left between the four of us.”
“I agree,” Bella nodded. “The fewer people involved the less of a chance our deception will be
found out.”
“I’ll go for Rosalie,” Esme folded her cards up and placed them on the table. She stood decisively
and walked out of the room. Bella looked over at Alice, who had placed her hands over her still flat
stomach.
“You’re sure that you want to do this?”
“I want concessions,” Alice announced.
“I had expected you would,” Bella agreed. “You’re not stupid and only a stupid woman wouldn’t ask
for something in return. Do you think there will be a lot of negotiation to your terms?”
“I think the Lady Rosalie will try,” Alice nodded. “But Esme will agree immediately. In the end I
don’t want anything unreasonable so she’ll give me what I want. The Lady Rosalie will just attempt
to show that she still has power over me by trying to haggle.”
The two of them moved into the sitting area, where Bella made both of them a cup of tea as they
waited for Esme to return with Rosalie. “Will you tell Edward?” Alice asked suddenly.
“It’s something best left between the four of us,” Bella answered, knowing that she should tell
Edward what they had planned but also worried what he would say about her deception. Did he
agree with his brothers that the Lady Rosalie should be sent away because she was barren? Bella
knew the situation bothered him but they hadn’t discussed it so she wasn’t sure why he was upset.
Bella turned when she heard the door creak open and watched as Esme dragged Rosalie into the
room behind her. “Rosalie,” Bella smiled and the other woman glared at her. “Would you like some
tea?”
“No,” Rosalie snapped. “I try not to make a habit of drinking tea with servants and whores.”
Bella let the insult go, unanswered, as she walked to the sideboard and poured a glass of wine.
“Here,” she handed it to Rosalie. “Please have a seat because we have a proposition we would like
to discuss with you.”
“A proposition,” Rosalie looked at them skeptically. “More likely trying to determine what you can
steal from me in my disgrace.”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Bella sat and glanced pointedly at the other woman. “It’s your disgrace we’re
here to discuss.”
“Oh wonderful,” Rosalie rolled her eyes dramatically. “Because, truly, it’s something I want to think
about unendingly.”
“Rosalie,” Esme sounded scandalized.
“We’re not trying to mock you,” Bella continued, channeling all the inner calm she’d learned from
dealing with Mother Superior Catherine. “We think we may have found a solution if you would only
sit down and speak with us. None of us wish to see you disgraced and sent away.”
“Don’t you? You would have all the power then.”
“You’re being silly,” Bella admonished. “Lady Constance of Bade would have all the power since
Carlisle intends for Emmett to marry her. Unless,” Bella glanced at Rosalie deviously. “You want
out of your wedding vows that badly. If you truly want Emmett to marry another and allow you to
join a convent, then so be it.”
“No!” Rosalie’s eyes widened. Bella could tell from the way the two of them behaved last night that
Rosalie and Emmett were deeply in love and would be lost without each other. That was what had
spurred her to continue on with her planning, even though Rosalie had been so horrid to her.
“Well then,” Bella gestured to the settee Esme was sitting on. “Sit down and hear out our
proposal.”
“Rosalie,” Alice’s voice was soft. “I want to let you have my baby.”
“What?”
“What Alice is trying to say,” Bella broke in, “is that we think you should fake your pregnancy. Alice
will claim that her child was stillborn and you’ll claim her child as your own.”
“With all it’s siblings running around, looking identical?”
“Alice and the children will, of course, come to Rome with Edward and I.”
“Not as servants,” Alice said resolutely.
“What?” Rosalie looked at her in shock.
“I won’t be a servant anymore. My son will be Emmett’s heir and my other children and I will be
given money to make a good start for ourselves. I won’t give you one child to raise in luxury while
the rest spend their lives bowing and scraping to him.”
“You cannot be serious!”
“Rosalie,” Esme broke in sharply. “Do you want to be sent away?”
“No.”
“Then concede. Alice, you’ll go to Rome with Edward and Bella to stay as a member of the
household. A lady’s maid for Bella. We can’t just take you in as part of the family and say nothing,
people will suspect.”
“Fine,” Alice agreed.
“The boys will be bought officer’s commissions to follow their father into the army or, if you feel it
better, they can be bought into the priesthood. It can be decided for each child on an individual
basis. Rosalie and I will both pay for it out of our household money.”
“Esme!”
“Rosalie!”
“Fine!”
“Alice?”
“I’ll do it,” Alice nodded and Bella let out a sigh of relief.
“Now,” Esme looked between the three of them. “Who all knows that you’re with child?”
“Just the four of us,” Alice said. “I never tell Jasper until the third month has passed.”
“Good,” Esme nodded. “There will be no stillbirth.”
“Then how ”
“Rosalie will announce her pregnancy at the ball we’re holding for Edward and Bella before their
departure for Rome. A public announcement of her pregnancy will prevent Carlisle from seeking to
suppress it and continue with the annulment.”
“He’ll expect me to be examined.”
“Lord Garrett will do it prior to the ball,” Esme answered.
“But ” Rosalie looked at her wide eyed.
“And,” Esme answered, “he’ll find you with child and healthy. After that, you will go into seclusion,
taking Alice and her children with you.”
“I thought Alice would go to Rome?” Rosalie looked at them.
“After the child’s birth. It does no good for her to give birth in Rome to a child we need in Naples.
No, you’ll go to the Villa Ma’moon so that you’re away from the City in case sickness comes. Lord
Garrett will recommend that you rest in seclusion surrounded by good, healthy, country air.”
“And why will he do that?” Bella asked speculatively.
“Because Lord Garrett owes me many favors,” Esme lifted an eyebrow at all of them and then
smirked. “He’ll do this and we’ll consider his debts to me paid. He doesn’t do this and I may let
others know the secrets I keep about him.”
“We’re really going to do this?” Rosalie looked around the room. “You’re really going to help me?”
“Of course,” Alice and Bella answered in unison.
“Why?” Rosalie’s eyes were damp. “I’ve been horrible toward both of you, why would you help
me?”
“Emmett loves you,” Alice answered. “And I love Emmett as if he were my own brother.”
“You’re better than the Lady Constance of Bade,” Bella shrugged and the other three women
laughed.
“Thank you,” Rosalie whispered before she stood up to embrace them both.
“Enough bonding,” Esme said suddenly. “We have a deception to plan.”
Chapter 28.
He paced the length of their sitting room impatiently. They had been at the Villa Presara three
weeks and though it had been tense, he had been surprised at how well Bella had managed.
Somehow, she had both his mother and Rosalie besotted with her, and while the first seemed
reasonable, he’d never known Rosalie of Hale to be besotted with anyone especially someone
she could see as a potential rival.
“Bella,” he knocked on their bedroom door and winced as he heard the sound of her retching. He
grimaced as he began to pace the sitting room again. She and Rosalie had both gone to visit with
the other ladies of the Farnese court and had come home ill and had been sick to their stomachs
for the past three days.
“One moment,” he heard her call out weakly and he stopped.
“Are you feeling well enough to join us for dinner?”
“One moment,” Bella answered hastily. “I’ll just be another moment. I feel much better now.”
“Take your time darling,” he replied through the door. All he could hope was that she was on the
mend, since they were expected to leave for Rome tomorrow and he didn’t think his father would
tolerate any delays much less one for something he would consider a trivial illness by Edward’s
unimportant mistress. Edward hoped she was feeling better, otherwise she would be miserable
their entire journey.
He looked up as Alice stepped out of the bedroom, holding an empty basin and face cloth. “How is
she?”
“Rinsing her face and neck,” Alice nodded. “She’ll be along momentarily.”
“And is she feeling better?”
“I believe it’s a passing thing,” Alice answered. “I would suggest you urge her to eat sparingly and
nothing spicy. The blander the food she eats, the better she’ll feel. And bread. Encourage her to
eat bread.”
“You think that will help?” Edward asked anxiously.
“I think it wouldn’t go amiss,” Alice agreed with a smile.
“I just wish I knew what she contracted,” Edward sighed. “It seems she and Rosalie both came
down with the illness but Mother is perfectly healthy. Yet, we cannot isolate what they may have
eaten that she did not.”
“I don’t think it’s a matter of food poisoning,” Alice replied.
“Another illness?”
“Another malady,” Alice agreed. “One your mother wouldn’t find herself susceptible to anymore.
One of a feminine nature.”
“Oh,” Edward shifted uncomfortably. He knew that female issues shouldn’t be something that
embarrassed him, he was a grown man and understood the basic functions of a man and a woman,
but he found that he still felt awkward when the subject came up in discussion. “I see.”
“Edward?” Bella appeared in the doorway, her cheeks flushed and her eyes dancing merrily. Her
breasts were pushed up tantalizingly, the tops of them almost spilling from the low neckline of her
bodice and he noticed that the waist of her gown was snugger than when they first arrived. “Are
you ready to go?”
“You are enchanting,” he replied. “I am your willing servant and am ready to follow you anywhere.”
“Flatterer.”
“I’ve found flattery will get me many places,” Edward replied with a smile, and watched Alice slip
silently from the room.
“Will it?”
“Yes,” Edward chuckled as he came forward to wrap her arm around his own. “One of them is my
favorite place to be.”
“And where is that, pray tell?”
Edward leaned down so that his lips were pressed against her ear. “Why, your bed of course. Shall
we, Milady?”
“There’s a dinner to attend, Your Grace,” Bella smirked. “It seems you’ll have to wait to try your
luck in my bed.”
“And more is the pity,” Edward sighed. “Unfortunately, we cannot make excuses.”
“I imagine not,” Bella replied airily as he led her through the sitting room and out into the main
corridor. “As it’s our going away feast. Or should I say your going away feast?”
“Our going away feast,” Edward answered firmly. “I hope ”
“You hope?”
“I hope that Rosalie continues to behave well,” Edward answered, not wanting to mar her good
mood with worries. “She’s treated you well since shortly after we arrived, I would hate for that to
end on our last night.”
“The Lady Rosalie simply needed a chance to make my acquaintance,” Bella insisted. “She’s a fine
woman.”
“Emmett loves her,” Edward sighed. “It’s that reason alone that I hate the mission my father has
requested of me.”
“Perhaps we’ll all be lucky and the Lord will not make you complete that request.”
“There is no way my father will not seek an annulment between Emmett and Rosalie. She is barren
and the Lady Constance of Bade has a rich dowry.”
“You should believe in miracles more,” Bella whispered as he led her through the main doors to the
formal dining hall and past the crowded tables toward the one at the head of the hall. He ignored
the stares and whispers as people who had not been formally introduced caught their first official
sight of the Widow de Marigny, mistress to one of the most powerful Cardinals of the College.
Edward couldn’t help the irritation rising in him as they all began to evaluate her as if she were a
piece of livestock on the auction block. The women were the worst; comparing, evaluating,
determining her relative worth against their own and whether they would be able to dethrone her
from her newfound position of power.
“Edward,” Emmett’s voice boomed out over the assembly and his curiosity was peaked when he
saw how jubilant his brother looked, Rosalie standing slightly behind him and glowing.
“Emmett,” he laughed as his brother embraced him, lifting his feet off the floor in his eagerness.
“And to what do I owe the pleasure of this joyous greeting?”
“A wondrous event, my brother the priest,” Emmett laughed. “A wondrous event.”
“Surely my leaving isn’t that much of a reason to celebrate?” Edward laughed as well, caught up in
his brother’s enthusiasm. “I didn’t realize I had been such a burden.”
“Don’t be ridiculous! You stay away far too much for the family’s liking.” Emmett embraced Bella
this time, lifting her into the air and spinning her in a wide circle before setting her gently on her
feet. “I should be more careful, sister of mine,” Emmett winked at her. “You’re quite delicate.
“You’ll visit more frequently from now on!” Emmett announced. “It simply won’t do for you to keep
such a lovely creature wasting away amongst the decay of Rome. Perhaps you should leave her
here instead?”
“Emmett,” Carlisle growled as he and Jasper sauntered toward them. “How many cups of wine
have you had? You’re making a spectacle.”
“Not a single one,” Emmett retorted. “I’ve drunk nothing.”
“Then what is the meaning of this?” Jasper hissed. “Everyone is staring. For a man who is
distraught because of his wife’s inability to do her duty, you’re acting extremely pleased.”
“Oh yes,” Emmett smirked first at Bella and then at his father and Jasper. Stepping away from the
group, he reached out for Rosalie’s hand and pulled her to stand in front of the raised head table
with him. Reaching for a goblet, he cleared his throat loudly. The people closest to the front of the
room fell silent and turned to face him. Those further back noticed and mirrored the other guests’
actions.
“My friends,” Emmett boomed out enthusiastically. “We’re here tonight to wish my brother,
Cardinal Edward Cullen, and his companion, Isabella Swan de Marigny, a safe journey as they
leave tomorrow for Rome. Brother, Isabella, I wish for you a safe and happy journey and that all of
your endeavors shall be successful.” He raised a goblet of wine to Edward, who raised his own in
return, and then took a drink. “To a safe journey!”
“To a safe journey!” The guests repeated and all took a sip of their wine.
“And now,” Emmett continued. “Brother, I must apologize. I would wait until a more appropriate
time but by then you will no longer be with us, instead you will be busy in Rome. So I must ask
your indulgence for a favor.”
“Anything,” Edward looked at his brother, confused.
“I will require that you return to us here in 7 months and also beg your indulgence as I make an
important announcement.”
His mother gasped and Edward turned around to see her hand over her mouth and Isabella
smiling. “Of course,” he nodded and Emmett broke into a grin.
“You see, brother of mine,” Emmett answered. “I will need you here to christen your new nephew.”
“My new ”
“Rosalie!” His mother shrieked happily and suddenly Edward realized what Emmett was telling him.
“I told you, you should believe in miracles,” Bella whispered as the crowd broke into an excited
buzz. Glancing over, he could see the Lady Rosalie smiling at him encouragingly and he glanced
back down at Bella. She had been sick
“This will all need to be confirmed by Lord Garrett, of course,” Jasper announced coldly.
“Are you suggesting that the Lady Rosalie is a liar,” Emmett snarled and Edward watched as
Rosalie clung to the sleeve of his doublet, whispering to him frantically.
“It already has,” Garrett announced from across the room, where he was standing next to his
sisters Kate and Irina. “The Lady Rosalie sought me out to confirm her suspicions before she
shared the joyous news with her husband.”
Edward glanced over and noticed that his mother had wrapped her arms tightly around Rosalie,
whispering into her ear as they rocked back and forth together. Emmett was standing beside them,
his arm wrapped around both women’s shoulders, and smirking at their father and Jasper who
were both gaping like fish, faces pale with shock. Glancing down, he could see Bella smirking at the
two of them and when she realized he was staring at her, smiled up at him happily.
His mind instantly returned to where it had been before Jasper’s outburst. Bella had been sick with
the same illness as Rosalie, sharing the same symptoms. But if the Lady Rosalie was with child and
not ill Edward felt his eyes widen as he stared down at the woman who had stolen his heart.
“You’re not ”
Bella nodded excitedly and reached out to lace her fingers through his own. “You are?”
She nodded again, her eyes sparkling as he pulled her close and kissed her forehead. “Are you
happy?” She whispered.
“Deliriously, my Bella,” he whispered in reply, bringing his mouth down to press against hers and
let his hand slide around to cup her still tiny waist. “I love you.”
“I love you too,” she whispered as he held her close. He knew that they would need to let his
family know but in that instant he decided a letter from Rome would be a better way to formally
announce it. Right now was the Lady Rosalie’s moment of triumph, delivered as she was from what
had seemed a certain fate, and, if he was honest, he wanted to enjoy the knowledge privately a
little longer.
Chapter 29.
Bella paced the length of her dressing room anxiously, reflectively smoothing her skirt and then
twisting her hands together. What had possessed her to think that this was a good idea? What had
she been thinking? She could have returned to Santa Maria and become a novice with no stain on
her character, lived out a quiet life. What had she been thinking?
Her stomach lurched and she covered her mouth with her hand, scurrying to the empty basin she
now kept always on hand. Heaving up the remains of the dry bread that Angela had urged on her,
she gagged, and felt a cold sweat break out across her forehead.
“Bella?” Angela hurried forward, worry lacing her tone, and within an instant she had brought a
cold cloth to the nape of Bella’s neck. “Oh darling,” she crooned as Bella let out a soft moan and
Angela led her to the nearby chaise. “He is as stubborn as his father,” Angela sighed.
“I thought this was supposed to be a short interlude?” Bella moaned again weakly.
“It has only been three weeks,” Angela pointed out. “The midwife told you that it could last for
months.”
“But surely not this much or this often?” Bella whimpered as Angela brought another cool cloth to
her forehead. “And I’m being a horrid burden on you.”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Angela chastised. “You’re being no such thing.”
“This is supposed to be your honeymoon,” Bella argued. “Last night was your wedding.”
“Pah,” Angela snorted. “Wedding that it was. It’s no more binding than a hand fastening between a
shepherd and a maid.”
“Angela,” Bella looked up at her friend and saw the color in her cheeks. “You don’t think ”
“That Ben would play me falsely? No, he loves me and it bothers him that there can be no public
commitment between us. And I appreciate that if he could give me such that he would.”
“But?”
“I would very much like to be Signora Angela de Chenello, wife of a simple peasant or a merchant,
rather than the strumpet attached to the personal priest of a powerful family.”
“I’d heard that Lord de Chenello has bought Ben a bishopric,” Bella said helpfully. “You’ll have
some degree of social standing at least. What was it you told me once? It’s better to be the
mistress of a powerful man than ”
“. . . a whore starving in the streets.” Angela nodded. “And it’s still true. That doesn’t mean I don’t
want something that neither of us can have. You shouldn’t worry about me though; Edward will be
coming soon to collect you for your audience with His Holiness.”
As if on cue, there was a rap on the door and the handle turned, Edward stepping into the room
cautiously. “My darling?” He looked at Bella worried. “Are you ill?”
“Just a bit of a distemper,” she tried to smile.
“Should I go for the physician?” She could see his brow furrow in worry. “You should undo your
laces immediately and I’ll send a man, the physician will be here in under on hour.”
“No,” Bella pushed herself into a sitting position and planted her feet firmly on the floor. “It’s
nothing that serious.” Angela rose and poured her a glass of lemon water and Bella sipped it
gratefully, letting the cool liquid trickle down her throat. “Your son simply wanted to register his
complaint about the fact that this dress is perhaps tighter than he would care for.”
“Then undo the laces slightly,” Edward suggested and Bella raised her eyebrows. “Surely he cannot
be comfortable confined in such a small space, nor can you.”
“Edward,” Bella argued. “Would you have people talk about the fact that I’m so obviously
expecting?”
“You are hardly obvious,” he countered. “You’ve barely any change at all. Simply loosen the laces
so that your waist is less confined.”
“People will talk!”
“Gossips will talk,” Edward countered. “And they’ll talk anyway. Besides, it isn’t as if they won’t
notice in a few more months when you’re heavy with his weight.”
Bella watched as Angela escaped the room, shaking her head. It was as if he were dense to
everything that happened around him in society. As if he had no clue about how things would take
place. “Of course they won’t notice,” she answered. “I’ll be lying in; none will see me until after the
child’s birth.”
“Hmmm,” Edward smiled. “I like the idea of a few private months to enjoy you all to myself,” he
reached out and drew her closer to him, slipping his arms around her waist. “Ben and Angela will
have left for the de Chenello’s, Alice won’t have arrived from tending to Rosalie in her seclusion,
and it will just be the two of us and the staff. I won’t replace your maid and then I can wait on you
myself, your willing slave.”
“Edward,” Bella couldn’t help rolling her eyes. “I’ll be in seclusion.”
“You mean ” she could see the recognition in his eyes and then the sudden flair of defiance. “Not
acceptable,” he answered. “I’ll not allow it. You may stay to the house but there will be no locking
yourself away like a leper.”
“Edward,” Bella argued.
“Come,” he insisted abruptly. “Turn and let me loosen your fastenings and then we’ll go.”
“Edward,” she sighed as he turned her by the shoulders and loosened the lacings up her back,
which she admitted made her feel much better, and then linked her arm through his, pulling her
silently through their villa and toward the carriage. He remained silent, brooding, as he helped her
in and joined her, sitting across from her in the opposite seat. He continued to stare out the
window, his elbow on the ledge and his fist curling and uncurling reflexively. This was not the
temper she had hoped for him to be in when she met His Holiness Clement VIII. Clement had the
power to welcome her as a daughter, assuring her acceptance in papal society, or he could shun
her, leading to her complete disgrace along with Edward’s. She wouldn’t be able to buy bread in
the meanest of streets if the man shunned her and with the way Edward was behaving, he was
certain to set his patron in a foul temper that would reflect badly on her.
“Edward,” she reached forward and took his other hand in her own. “Don’t be angry with me for
the way things are done.”
“I’m not angry with you,” Edward said sullenly. “I just refuse to be away from you for months,
worrying about you incessantly and unable to sleep at night without your body next to mine.”
“Darling,” Bella tried to soothe him.
“It’s a ridiculous custom, suggesting that I’m some sort of lout who cannot control his urges and
will debauch you and risk our child’s health.”
“That’s not ”
“We’ll ask Garrett when he comes to examine you again.”
“Garrett will agree with whatever you wish,” Bella retorted. “He doesn’t wish to incur your
displeasure.”
“Fine,” Edward snapped. “We’ll ask the midwife that cares for you between his visits. The one he
recommended. Surely she’ll know if it’s safe. After all, I hardly believe the peasants are locking
their women away for months at a time as they grow the fruits of their matrimony. And surely, if it
were dangerous for you to share my bed, then it would be dangerous for a peasant woman as well.
And there are plenty of those around and their urchins running through the streets all looking
hearty and healthy.”
“We’ll ask the midwife,” Bella agreed. “If she says there is nothing to fear then I won’t have a lying
in. I’ll simply stay in seclusion within the villa as is expected of me by society. But if she says that
the child and I will come to some harm ”
“Then I shall lock you in myself and give no one but Angela and the cook keys, with strict orders to
put guards on the room to keep me out no matter how I rave at them in my lonely madness.”
“We have an accord,” Bella nodded and she noticed that his lip curled up in a lopsided smile.
“That we do,” he agreed as the carriage rolled to a stop and she noticed they were in the outer
square of St. Peters and the footman was clambering down to open their door. Edward stepped
from the carriage and reached his hand back to assist her. “My lady,” he murmured as he helped
her step securely down into the square and then wrapped her arm through his, leading her up the
marble steps and past the Swiss guards in their colorful uniforms.
“Your Grace,” both men bowed reverently and lowered their pikes in respect. Edward nodded and
Bella stared at the three of them wide eyed.
“Ma’am,” the guard closest to her nodded his head respectfully, his face serious, and she felt her
face flush.
The first guard pulled open the large door in front of them and Edward ushered Bella through,
drawing her into the cool darkness of the Vatican that contrasted so sharply with the bright
intensity of the Roman sunshine outside.
“Are you ready?” He asked her softly, whispering into her ear.
“I’m not sure,” she muttered and wiped her free palm against the side of her dress. “Do I look
acceptable?”
“You look beautiful,” Edward murmured as he led her through the now opened interior door,
nodding to the valet holding it for them.
“Thank you, Giovanni.”
“His Holiness is awaiting you in the main salon with the rest of his court.” The man answered
helpfully and gave Bella an encouraging smile. “He is quite excited to meet the lovely Lady
Isabella.”
“Uh,” she felt her stomach begin to roll.
“I think he will be delightfully surprised,” the footman continued as Edward led her thorough the
door. “You’re as pretty as the gossips suggested,” he finished, too low for any but her to hear. She
immediately felt her confidence rise at the stranger’s overly kind words and then swallowed, lifting
her head. It wasn’t as if she could back out now.
“His Eminence, Cardinal Edward Cullen,” the groom at the front of the hall announced and Bella
swallowed again as Edward led her through the now parting mass of people and toward a seated
older man, swathed in white robes.
“Edward!” The man cried out happily, beckoning him forward. “It’s so good that you’ve returned to
us my child! I have missed you so!”
“Your Holiness,” Edward bowed his head and the man stood, coming forward to embrace Edward.
“My child,” the Pope squeezed him briefly.
“Pappa Ippolito,” Edward murmured and Bella felt her eyebrows rise in shock. She knew that
Edward was close with his godfather but she never thought that they would forgo societal
conventions completely.
“And this,” the older man drew back and looked over her appraisingly, “must be your beautiful
Isabella.”
“It is,” Edward nodded.
“Your Holiness,” Bella curtseyed low, keeping her eyes fixed on the floor.
“Aren’t you a beauty,” the Pope announced as he placed his hand on top of her head and made the
sign of the cross in front of her in blessing. “It pleases me so much that you have become a
companion for young Edward, he was becoming much too serious.”
“Thank you, Your Grace,” Bella stammered.
She felt a finger on her chin and raised her head obediently to look at the shrewd man staring at
her. “And what a lovely flush on your cheeks, you are positively blooming my child. I see my
godson wasted no time then. When will I be blessing the fruits of your devotion? Sometime in the
spring I expect?”
“Uh,” Bella glanced over at Edward wide eyed and saw that he was blushing; his cheeks pink as he
wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her close.
“Just after the Holy Feast of Easter,” Edward answered.
“Splendid,” Clement enthused. “The perfect time to have a child. You’ll, of course, retire to my villa
near Prudomo before the birth and wait out the summer fevers there.”
“I ” Bella looked over at Edward.
“Of course they’ll expect the good Cardinal Cullen to say mass,” Clement continued. “Seeing as
he’ll be blessed so plentifully and can rejoice in the Lord’s works.”
“Of course,” Edward agreed.
“Now,” Clement turned back to embrace Edward again. “Go, mingle with the others, and enjoy
escorting about the loveliest lady to ever grace my salon. I must bore myself with the tedious
business of hosting.” Clement dropped his voice. “I did try to see all the Marigny out of town on
errands but that fool Laurent and the slattern he married were downright impossible to toss aside.
I think you’ll find them where you always do wasting the family fortune at the gaming tables or
ruining themselves in the wine.”
“Perfect,” Edward groaned lightly and Bella felt her heart sink into her feet. Just what she needed,
the inlaws she had never met making a scene to embarrass her. “Come along Bella, there are
some people I would like very much for you to meet.”
“Don’t you think,” she whispered as he led her away from Clement, “that perhaps we should retire
if Laurent and Victoria are here?”
“Of course not,” Edward answered firmly. “I am a Prince of the Church and you are my life. We’ll
not be run out of our rightful place by those French interlopers. If anyone should leave, it is them.”
“Edward ”
“Cardinal Marconi,” Edward interrupted as they walked toward a fat, redfaced older man. “May I
introduce ”
“The Lady Isabella,” the man chuckled and reached out to take both of her hands in his fat ones. “I
have heard so many rumors about you. The stories are almost too much to be believable but now
that I see you I can see what gave rise to them. You certainly are bewitching.”
“Oh,” Bella looked at Edward as the man released her hands and wandered off.
“Don’t mind Alistair,” Edward laughed as she looked at him questioningly. “He’s always a bit
forward with the gossip when he’s been into his cups.”
“I see,” Bella felt a sharp jolt in the back and then liquid splashing into her hair and down her back.
“What ”
“Oh dear,” a snide voice drawled. “I didn’t see you there. My apologies, I’m such a klutz.”
“Victoria,” Edward growled.
Bella spun around to look at the indolent red head giving her hateful glances and knew,
immediately, that the wine had been poured on her out of spite and not an accident.
“Gracious,” the woman’s voice dripped sarcasm. “I knew that Clement was free with his
associations, but really Edward this is daring. Bringing a whore from the streets into His Holiness’
salon? That is brave.”
“How ” Bella felt her face flush and anger boiled inside of her. How dare this woman insult her
so? She had heard from James just the sort of woman that she was and lady was not a word that
would describe her. James, heaven rest his soul, had called her a harlot and once confessed that
he had considered running away and forsaking his family to keep from marrying her sure that
she carried all manner of filth from her many rumored liaisons.
“Laurent,” Edward glared at the man who had sauntered over to take Victoria’s elbow. “Your
strumpet has become drunk and is disgracing herself. I suggest you return her to your apartments,
by force if necessary, and perhaps teach her some manners. Otherwise, I may have to call you out
to control her better, and you are not quite a man of the sword. Are you?”
“No,” Laurent’s lip curled upward as he glared at Bella. “I don’t think that would be necessary.
Victoria and I were just about to retire for the afternoon. Weren’t we darling?”
“Of course,” Victoria sneered. “I don’t make it a habit to associate with common trash, regardless
of the setting. The stench does seep into ones clothes and then they must burn them. And I am
rather fond of this dress.”
Bella watched, mortified, as Laurent pulled Victoria away, their heads bent low to each other.
“Bella?” Edward glanced at her. “Are you all right?”
“I’m covered in wine,” she answered quietly.
“I’ve already motioned for the chamberlain. I’m sure he noticed the incident and is fetching our
carriage.
“I’m sorry I’ve ruined your afternoon,” she wrung her hands together mournfully.
“Nonsense,” Edward laughed as he took her arm and led her out of the hall and toward the
motioning chamberlain. The man scurried them through the halls and to the now waiting carriage.
“I hate being forced to endure those things. They’re a headache that I’d rather not participate in if
I can help it. Although, with as much as my godfather was taken with you, I expect I’ll be required
to endure them much more frequently now that you’ll be the toast of society.”
Chapter 30.
He watched her carefully as she reclined on one of the large salon settee’s, chatting with Cardinal
Ridimento’s oldest daughter, her feet tucked underneath her because of the children playing on the
floor. Would she look like that with their children one day?
“Edward!” His godfather’s voice broke in and he snapped out of his reverie, turning to see the other
man looking at him sternly. “Have you heard a word of what I’ve said?”
“Pardon?”
“I thought not,” his godfather rolled his eyes. “I wanted to speak with you about this temper of
yours. I’ve never known you to be hotheaded before and now it seems to be all that I’m hearing
about.”
“Temper?” Edward raised an eyebrow and then lifted his wine goblet. He knew exactly what
Clement was referring to but he didn’t want to rise to the bait.
“The Baron Gunter Jaegger?” Clement asked dryly. “You grabbed him by the throat at a ball last
week and then challenged him to a duel. The next morning you then sliced off part of his ear. Ring
any bells?”
“Ah yes,” Edward sighed. “It was a mistake.”
“You cut a notch out of his ear by mistake?”
“Yes,” Edward nodded. “I was attempting to take off his whole head. He ducked quite a bit faster
than I expected and I took a bit out of the top of his ear. It’s an improvement anyway; they did
resemble a rather large potato attached to the side of his head. Now it’s got more character.”
“May I inquire as to why you felt it necessary to duel with the Baron, or Lord Ellesmere, or perhaps
why the Marquis of Demontage has quit Rome quite suddenly to return home rumor tells me in
fear of you?”
“He insulted Isabella,” Edward growled. “I was merely defending her.”
“How did he insult her?” Clement sighed. “How did any of them insult her?”
“The Baron inquired as to her price and then suggested once she were available again he would be
more than willing to fatten my purse by paying double for her.”
“I see,” Clement nodded. “And Lord Ellesmere?”
“Ah my fellow Englishman,” Edward sneered. “He believed that some sort of patriotic loyalty meant
that I should offer hospitality to a countryman. I offered him the hospitality of my home, the food
off my table, but I balked at sharing what he referred to as ‘the whore in my bed’. As far as
Demontage, he decided to plead his case to the lady herself.”
“Did he now?” Clement murmured. “Bold, I will give him that it was very bold.”
“Yes, it takes a great deal of bravery to back a woman into an alcove, and press yourself on top of
her on a bench while she begs for mercy,” Edward snorted.
“Edward,” Clement sighed. “It is no use for me to tell you that these things happen.”
“These things shouldn’t happen!”
“She is your mistress,” Clement answered. “It’s a position with little moral regard. To those of us
who know, those of us who share your position, we understand your feelings. They’re natural. And
trust me, Edward, I do know the position you’re in for it is not that different from my own. I too
was forced into the priesthood by the order of my birth and against my will, as you know most of
your brothers here were. We understand that for many of our brothers their mistress is, in their
eyes, their wife, given to them by God as all good wives are.”
“Then you’re chastising me ”
“Just because we understand it,” Clement broke in, “doesn’t mean that the laity does. To them, to
men like Ellesmere and Baron Jaegger, boys like Demontage, a mistress is a disposable toy you
keep as long as it amuses you. There is no commitment, no love between these men and the
women that they keep. Their mistresses are beautiful possessions. They believe that it is the same
with all men.”
“But ”
“And if I were you it would make my blood boil hot. If it were my Marie,” Clement shuddered.
“Well, when I was your age, I fought as many duels as you, until a very wise older Cardinal pulled
me aside and explained to me the error of my ways.”
“Because we worry about the ire of a foreign court?” Edward snorted.
“No,” Clement cuffed him across the back of the head and Edward winced. “Because it hurts the
woman you love. She won’t say it, but she’s ashamed every time you choose to fight instead of
walk away. You shame her with your actions.”
“Defending Bella is shaming her?” Edward asked incredulously.
“No, drawing attention to the defense is what shames her. For, have you not thought, that every
time you fight, the reason is spread through every salon in Rome before the duel has finished?
Every word uttered against her is repeated by the malicious gossips that make up the society of
this cesspit of a city. Do you know what the rumor is on Lord Ellesmere? They say you offered him
the hospitality of your home because he was a fellow countryman, he ate at your table and when
you’d retired for the night he took his enjoyment from the rest of your home’s delights. The public
believes that you dueled against Ellesmere because you woke up to find Bella gone and, when you
investigated, found them in the formal dining room her bent over the table with an apple in her
mouth and his cock in her ”
“What?”
“Of course she had 50 invitations to salons the next day, everyone wanting to see the whore who
caused a scandal between a Cardinal and a Lord. Would you care to know why you dueled the
Baron? His tastes were rather more conventional but did include that delicious little castrati that
sang at the Duchess of Este’s last ball. It seems he and your Bella have been lovers since their
time in the holy schools.”
“That’s outrageous,” Edward argued.
“Of course it is,” Clement nodded, “but it’s gossip that spreads with each of your hot tempered
stunts. And she worries women always worry even if you’re the best man I’ve ever seen with
a blade. You quite put your brothers to shame. They worry nonetheless that you’ll be hurt and it
will be because of them so they pace and wring their hands, muttering under their breath and
working up their nerves. It is rather tiring to watch,” Clement continued, “I can’t imagine what it’s
like to actually do.”
“Isabella shouldn’t worry about me,” Edward muttered.
“I dare say it’s not just you she worries about,” Clement suggested. “Do try to look at this from her
position yes, she loves you dearly and would be devastated by your loss but even worse what
would become of her and the child? Servants in your parents’ home perhaps? Paupered hanger
ons, dependent on an allowance granted by your notoriously lessthangenerous father?”
“She should know that I would never put myself in any danger. I could best any of those men with
a sword in my sleep.”
“Ellesmere was pistols,” Clement pointed out.
“More’s the pity for him,” Edward answered coldly. “Seeing as his right arm is now quite useless
after the ball went through it.”
“Learn to control your temper,” Clement advised. “Bella should not have cause to worry now and
you should not take careless risks with your son to be born soon.”
“You’re counseling that I should let these men insult her?”
“I’m counseling that there are some things more important than your damnable pride, young
Edward. If she loses the child due to worry over you, what will you say then? Will a duel for her
honor be worth it if it leads to her taking ill with childbed fever and leaving you behind?”
“No,” Edward swallowed.
“To truly love is to learn humility,” Clement admonished. “It is time you bow your head and learn
it.”
“Yes Your Grace,” Edward nodded contritely.
“Can I tell you two more things?”
“Of course, your council is always appreciated.”
“I dare say it’s not,” Clement laughed. “But I’ll thank you for the respect you show this doddering
old man. The less of a scandal you cause, the less you’ll be sought after by society. Of course,
you’ll still be expected to attend my salons for I’ve taken a great liking to the girl. I think I shall be
rather sad when you’ve left Rome for the spring. And you ” Clement wrapped an arm around
Edward’s shoulder. “Like the son Marie and I always wished for.”
Edward smiled. He had good memories of Clement’s long term mistress who’d died two years
before. She’d never born him children and Roman society had been aghast that he’d never sought
out another, more fertile, woman to share his company. Edward, though, had seen their love for
each other, their devotion, throughout his childhood and adolescence. He’d seen the way that
Clement and Marie had both drawn silent strength from each other. At the end, she had even been
the one consoling him about her impending death, trying to ease his pain. A better couple he
couldn’t find to use as a model for how to love and care for Isabella.
“And I think of Bella like my own daughter,” Clement continued. “Between the two of us, we shall
set your children up for life; the right political connections, the right endowments, the proper
resources. We are but humble princes of the church but between the two of us, we will make them
kings among men. The Borgia would weep with jealousy in their graves at the connections we will
forge for your children. Marry them to royalty, perhaps put a daughter on the throne somewhere?”
“You’re marrying off children I don’t yet have,” Edward chuckled. “And as sick as Bella has been,
she’s informed me that there will be no more children. Last night she actually suggested that she
knew of a surgeon who performed castrations for the choral schools and she could arrange to have
him ambush me on the road somewhere.”
“They all say that,” Clement chuckled. “She’ll curse your name through the entire birth. I once sat
with Cardinal Marconi when one of his sons was born and Marie assisted the midwife. You’ve met
his Antonia?”
Edward nodded. Marconi’s long time mistress was infamous for her boiling hot Spanish temper and
her mercurial moods. The jolly cardinal was her perfect foil.
“At one point she was screaming out in her native language all the ways she would kill him when
she was able to get out of the bed. Most of them started with her cutting off the appendage she
found most offensive at the moment, shoving it down his throat and then suffocating him with his
own balls. The backdrop changed each time of course, and occasionally the method. The one I
thought most clever involved her castrating him and making him watch as she served his manhood
to the pigs kept at their country villa and then throw his bleeding carcass in after.”
Edward raised his eyebrows and took a hasty drink of wine. Bella wasn’t a particularly violent
woman but the child had grown heavy now, kicking her frequently in the night and causing her
great pains, while her sickness still had not abated.
“Yes, yes,” Clement continued. “Quite a bloodthirsty savage, Antonia. As soon as we heard the
child scream out and Marconi had gotten the doors open almost took them off the hinges trying
she had turned as sweet and docile as a lamb, crooning to the child and beckoning him to her
side. She was with child again by the end of the year. But I digress. I had two bits of advice for
you.”
“You did,” Edward agreed.
“I told you that love teaches you humility,” Clement pointed out.
“You did,” Edward nodded.
“Well children will teach you patience. Trust me on this if nothing else a child is the best teacher
there is to show you that you truly control nothing in the world and that the best way to endure is
to do so patiently. Also, as I said, the less of a scandal that you make, the less you’ll be invited to
salons and parties. The more time you’ll have at home to chase the beautiful Bella around your
chambers in nothing but a bed sheet. Except my salons of course,” Clement shrugged. “And my
balls. You of course are always required at them. The lovely Bella? Well, let’s just say I’d have no
problems sending your brother Jasper and his soldiers to insure her attendance.”
“I see how it is,” Edward smirked. “It’s no longer my company you seek, it’s Bella’s.”
“Of course, my dear boy,” Clement patted him on the back. “Hers is so much more enjoyable. Now,
unfortunately I must attend to my other guests and your lovely lady looks a bit tired around the
eyes. I’ll send a servant to freshen up your old quarters so that she can rest. You’ll stay here
tonight and not venture home of course?”
“If that’s your wish,” Edward agreed.
“She’s too tired to be jostled by a carriage when she could be resting comfortably in one of my
beds. I must insist that you please stay and enjoy my hospitality.”
“We would be delighted,” Edward nodded.
“Good, good,” Clement patted his shoulder again before wandering off. “I’ll send a servant while
you go extract the lovely Isabella from the circle of intrigue surrounding her.”
Edward drank the last of his wine and set the empty goblet on a nearby table as his godfather left
to strike up conversation elsewhere. Turning, he saw Isabella surrounded by a good many of her
true friends here at court the other mistresses who understood her plight and welcomed her
heartily into their sisterhood. Walking over quickly, he bowed to the other ladies and then, still
bent at the waist, took her hand to kiss it. “My love,” he said quietly. “His Holiness has extended us
the offer of a room here tonight. He hopes it will be more comfortable for you in your condition
then the carriage ride home.”
“How sweet of him,” Bella agreed and he could see the smile at the corners of her mouth.
“Indeed,” Edward agreed as he reached out to help her stand. “Are you ready to retire now?”
“Of course,” she answered and turned to her companions. “It has been pleasant to see all of you.”
“And you as well darling,” Antonia agreed, standing to kiss Bella on the cheek. “We’re staying as
well so perhaps tomorrow we can walk in the gardens?”
“That would be lovely,” Bella agreed as Edward put his hand under her elbow and began to lead
her away.
“Ladies,” he nodded curtly and saw that all of them were smiling, approval radiating in their eyes.
The court here was a strange one, but it was the one they had been thrust into and he would need
to tread carefully, subjugating his ego and his pride, if both he and Bella were going to thrive in it.
Chapter 31.
She shifted uncomfortably in her flat slippers and tried to appear interested in the story Bianca
della Rovere was telling her. The girl wasn’t the most intelligent and was slightly vapid, but she had
a large heart and a sweet disposition so Bella had found herself taking a liking to her. “You are so
lucky,” Bianca giggled and Bella found herself glancing up to see Edward stepping away from the
Pope and a few of the older members of the College. She turned to see Bianca blushing lightly as
she tittered. “I wish papa would have found me a husband as handsome as Cardinal Cullen.”
“Cardinal Cullen isn’t my husband,” Bella admonished.
“It’s just the same,” Bianca tittered. “It’s not like he wouldn’t marry you if he could. I’d rather be
the mistress of a man as handsome as Cardinal Cullen rather than the wife of the man papa has
chosen.”
“I thought you had met Andreas of Palermo?” Bella asked gently. “I’d heard he was rather
handsome.”
“I have,” Bianca nodded. “And I would be happy to marry Andreas. Unfortunately, I’m to be wed to
his Uncle Guillermo his 64 year old, Uncle Guillermo.”
“But I thought you and Andreas had grown close?” Bella asked, horrified.
“We have,” Bianca’s lower lip quivered.
“And how does he feel about your impending nuptials?”
“He’s become rather angry at me,” Bianca nodded toward where Andreas of Palermo was standing
in a corner, downing goblets of wine and glaring at the merrymakers in the room angrily. “He
thinks I should refuse.”
“And would you if you had the chance?”
“Of course I would,” Bianca nodded.
“Well then,” Bella waggled her eyebrows. “May I propose a minor scandal?”
“Scandal?”
“Make your excuses and go into the alcove at the far end of the hall,” Bella suggested. “I shall go
talk to Andreas and send him to you. After he’s come to you, I’ll inform one of the attendants that
I’m weary and send him for mine and the Cardinal’s carriage. As my good friend, you’ll of course
go to fetch my cloak for me.”
“Are you suggesting that we run away?”
“I’ve suggested nothing of the sort,” Bella raised an eyebrow and glanced at her pointedly. “Should
you decide that’s the best option for you and Andreas of Palermo, then of course I would never try
to stop you. After all, I am the type to embrace true love wholeheartedly.”
“Oh Isabella,” Bianca enveloped her in a flurry of young, sweet smelling arms. “I love you so
much!”
“I love you too,” Bella patted the young woman on the back and then shifted to put her hand at her
own back.
“Is the babe kicking you again?” Bianca’s eyes widened. “You should sit down.”
“The babe is always kicking me,” Bella groaned and rubbed her swollen abdomen. “I had hoped the
feast Clement hosted for Christmas would make him sleepy but it seems to have excited him
instead.”
“You poor darling,” Bianca soothed. “You should go sit down.”
“Later,” Bella admonished. “Now, I have a husband to snatch for you.” She reached out and
pushed on Bianca’s shoulder, nudging her toward the alcove she had earlier suggested.
“Thank you!” Bianca hissed quickly as she scurried away, patting at her hair.
“Mattias,” Bella motioned toward Clement’s valet.
“Yes Milady,” Mattias lowered his head as he walked sedately toward her. “Is everything all right,
Milady?”
“I am very weary,” Bella feigned. “Could you perhaps arrange for our carriage?”
“Should I get the Cardinal as well?” The valet asked.
“No,” Bella shook her head. “I have a few farewells to say and then I’ll collect him.”
“Of course, Milady,” Mattias agreed as he scurried off.
“Come on Anthony Ippolito,” Bella rubbed her bulging bundle and the baby inside kicked her hand
resoundingly. “Let’s go facilitate true love.” She waddled over to where Andreas of Palermo stood
glaring at the spot where Bianca had disappeared.
“Lady Isabella,” he nodded curtly.
“Andreas,” she nodded pleasantly. “It seems that this Christmas season hasn’t found you in a
pleasant mood. Can I inquire into what has made you so unhappy?”
“It is nothing,” Andreas answered. “Nothing of any importance.”
“The Lady Bianca della Rovere isn’t of any importance?”
“Bianca,” Andreas sighed. “Bianca is of the utmost importance.”
“Then why are you so angry at her? She thought that you were her close friend and your
displeasure hurts her.”
“I am her friend,” Andreas took another large gulp of his wine and motioned toward a steward. The
man nodded and moved toward them, bearing two goblets on his tray.
“None for me thank you,” Bella waved her hand at the steward. She hadn’t been able to tolerate
even the smell of strong wine since her conception.
“His Grace sent you some lemon water,” the steward responded as Andreas took his own glass.
“He urged that you drink it.”
“Oh,” Bella nodded and took the goblet offered to her. “Thank you.”
“Of course, Milady,” the steward nodded as she took a deep drink, savoring the taste. She was
constantly parched now and the lemon water was refreshing but slightly bitter.
“Now Andreas,” Bella turned to him, giving him a look she hoped brooked no room for argument.
“Why are you making Bianca della Rovere sad this Christmas time?”
“I don’t wish to make Bianca sad,” Andreas answered softly and Bella took another deep drink. “I
care very deeply for her. Did you know she is to become my aunt? A girl of barely sixteen is to be
my aunt?”
“I had heard that,” Bella nodded. “Surely you must know it isn’t by choice? I’m sure she would
prefer a young and virile husband. One she could make a life with.”
“Do you think?” Andreas’ mood immediately lifted.
“Of course she would want a husband who was bold,” Bella continued. “One who would take what
he wanted rather than railing against an unjust fate for them both. Bianca is rather fond of a
romantic and public gesture.”
“Do you believe ”
“She is waiting for you in the alcove closest to the doors,” Bella continued. “And you know my
carriage is waiting for the Cardinal and I outside. It does take some time for him to say his
goodbyes.”
“Of course,” Andreas’ eyes sparkled excitedly. “A very Happy Christmas to you, Milady.”
“And to you,” Bella nodded.
“If you’ll excuse me?”
“Of course,” she smiled and waved him away. “Go, go.”
She took another drink of her lemon water and began to hum. A sudden swift kick by the baby
caused her to hunch forward slightly. The muscles in her legs clenched and she doubled over as
pain ricocheted through her entire body, spots forming before her eyes and the edges of her vision
going black quickly.
“Isabella!” She heard Antonia , Cardinal Marconi’s mistress, gasp as the world went dark.
“Bella!” She heard Edward and pounding feet as the world went dark around her.
She came to moments later, as Edward and Cardinal della Rovere carried her gently through the
corridors and into Edward’s former apartments. “Edward?”
“Hang on for me Bella,” he sounded worried and pain coursed through her again, causing her to
whimper. “Clement’s personal physician is following us,” he assured her.
“The baby,” she moaned. “It’s too soon for him to come, Edward.”
“Everything will be fine,” Edward replied as he kicked open the door to the bedroom and they lay
her gently on the bed. “It will be fine my darling, I promise.”
“Cardinal Cullen,” she heard the physician fighting his way through the commotion outside. “I need
to examine the Lady Isabella.”
“It will be all right, Bella,” Edward grasped her hand tightly.
“Don’t,” she tried to focus on him, sitting beside her bed. “Don’t let anything happen to him.”
“I won’t, darling,” she could see the tension around his eyes and mouth. “You’ll both be fine.”
She could feel the physician checking her over and tried to breathe deeply as the pain shot through
her again. “Edward,” she howled as the pain raced through her, knives pierced her stomach and
she gasped.
“Cardinal Cullen,” she heard the physician as if from a long way off. “The Lady Isabella has been
poisoned. It seems as if it’s been done very recently. We need to know everything that the Lady
Isabella has eaten or drank.”
“Bella,” she felt Edward grasping her hand tightly, running his other hand down her arm briskly.
“Bella.”
“What?” She croaked.
“What did you eat or drink just before you became ill? Can you remember what you ate, Bella?”
“I didn’t,” she croaked and the pain ripped through her again. “I just drank the lemon water you
sent over to me as I was talking to Andreas of Palermo.”
“I didn’t,” Edward’s voice sounded panicked. “I didn’t send you over any lemon water.”
“The server said,” Bella gasped.
“Open your mouth for me,” the physician instructed. “And breathe out.”
Bella took a deep breath in and then panted out of her mouth, breathing over the hovering
physician. “It’s blue cohosh,” the physician said, muffled as if from underneath water. “You’ll need
to get the midwife.”
“No,” Bella moaned. “No, no, it’s too soon.”
“There’s no choice in the matter,” the physician sounded worried. “The child must come now.”
“Bella,” she felt Edward’s hands leave hers.
“Don’t leave me!”
“I’m going for the midwife,” Edward tried to sound reassuring but she could tell he was worried. “I
promise I’ll be right outside, my Bella.”
“NO!” She tried to grasp for him but another pain shot through her abdomen. “Please don’t leave
me.”
“I’ll be just outside,” he promised, sounding desperate.
“I don’t,” she gasped. “I don’t want to die.”
“You won’t,” she heard him sob loudly. “I promise that you won’t, my Bella. I can’t live without
you.”
She felt a rush of fluid between her legs and screamed as a flame of agony ripped through the
flesh between her thighs and every muscle in her body contracted. “I need that midwife now,
Cardinal!”
“Move,” she heard another voice announce and realized that it was Antonia pushing her way into
the room.
“Your Ladyship,” she heard the physician reply.
“Move, you idiot,” she heard Antonia snort. “I’ve been between more women’s thighs then you’ve
ever fantasized about. Let an expert handle this.”
“Antonia?” Bella moaned. “Antonia, it’s too soon.”
“Sorry to upset you, my darling, but this boy has decided that he’s coming and it will make you
happy to know that if you have any doubts about his parentage, Cardinal Cullen he’s got a full
head of that bronze hair of yours. Now help Isabella to sit up.”
“Should I ” she felt her torso lifted and strong arms cradled her back. “Shouldn’t I leave?”
“Now is not the time to get squeamish on me, Cardinal Cullen,” Bella heard Antonia snap. “You’ve
made this mess it’s time you pay your due.”
“But ”
“Do you want her to die?” Bella’s eyes flew open and she stared at the other woman. Her mouth
was set in a grim line and she was standing between Bella’s open legs, her hands beneath Bella’s
pulled up skirt. “No? Then you need to sit behind her and help her push. She’s too weak to do this
on her own.”
“Right,” Edward sounded determined and she felt him sit behind her, wrapping his arms around her
heaving torso.
“When I give the order, bend her forward and help her push. The babe is ready so it should be
quick.”
“Oh God,” Bella groaned as the pain coursed through her again.
“On the count of three,” Antonia announced and a fresh wave of pain shot through Bella before she
completely lost consciousness.
Chapter 32.
Bella’s head rolled back onto his shoulder limply and then fell forward, hanging like dead weight.
“Bella?”
“She just fainted from the pain,” Antonia announced as she stepped out from between Bella’s legs
to remove the bolsters from the chaise next to the bed and placed one behind each of Bella’s knees
propping them up and open. “It happens with some of them. Probably for the best, looking at the
size of his head, he’s a big child. When was she expecting?”
“The beginning of March, according to the midwife,” Edward answered.
“She’d have gone early,” Antonia shrugged. “Let’s say the end of February and that gives us two
months. Much too soon for a babe to be born. Much, much too soon.”
“Will it ” he heard his voice crack.
“Who am I to know?” She answered and looked toward the ceiling. “You’re the Cardinal. You should
know better than me where to direct your questions.”
“But ”
“I have a good feeling,” Antonia smiled. “Now, we need her out of this dress. I’d tell you to be
careful because it’s rather fine but the thing is ruined anyway so I suggest you simply cut it off
her.”
Edward reached for the stiletto that he’d always kept in the bedside table, warily acknowledging
that his place in the College was a precarious one and the court was full of intrigue. He carefully
ran it down the length of her laces, swallowing as he remembered another time he’d done the
same. The bodice sagged free and he thanked heaven that she’d given over wearing the confining
undergarments that fashion dictated because of the child’s size. He felt Antonia grab the hem of
her gown and he shifted her upward, lifting her hips slightly so that the older woman could pull off
the dress as he fumbled with the ties of her underskirts. Once they were loose, Antonia jerked
them off as well, leaving Bella stark naked between them, her skin flushed and clammy. He
watched in sick fascination as her stomach tensed and the entire mass of it seemed to shift
downward.
“He sits very low for a child with two months to go,” Antonia raised an eyebrow. “Could he be
older?”
“Perhaps,” Edward nodded. “A month maybe?”
“Ah, thank the Lord,” Antonia smiled at him encouragingly. “Let us hope he is then. Very fortunate
it would be indeed. Now, you see when her stomach tenses?”
Edward nodded.
“When you see her stomach tense, you press her forward and try to make her shoulders touch her
knees. Do you understand?”
“But ”
“She cannot exactly push the baby out herself can she?” Antonia glowered and he looked down at
Bella’s still, unconscious form. She looked almost as pale as when he’d found her suffering with the
plague and his heart clenched. “We’ll have to squeeze it out for her. Now, when the stomach
tenses, you fold her in half.”
He ran a hand lovingly over her sweating brow and took a deep breathe. He had never expected
that he would become such an active participant in this aspect of their child’s life. Strong wine and
pacing, he’d been expecting. Wringing his hands and praying as he waited for news. Not actually
holding her limp form and taking part. Surely this wasn’t something that was to be expected of him
in normal circumstances?
“Be brave, young Edward,” Antonia counseled him sternly. “Now is not the time for the faint of
heart.” He saw Bella’s stomach tense and pressed her forward firmly, flattening her fuller breasts
against her upper thighs.
Two hours later, he slumped back against the head of the bed, Bella weakly clinging to him as
tears streamed down his face. “Is he ” she was still slightly disoriented, her skin clammy and her
body shivering.
Their son let out a lusty cry of reassurance and he felt a sob wrack his chest. “He’s beautiful,” he
soothed her. “Absolutely beautiful.”
“And perfectly healthy,” Antonia broke in from the nearby table she’d turned into a work area as he
tossed his head and let out another cry. “A fine, strong son.”
“Your Grace,” the physician broke in, touching his shoulder. “You must let me see to the Lady now.
His Holiness has sent for a nurse for the child but the Lady Isabella must be looked over
extensively.”
“I’ll stay,” Edward said stubbornly. “If something were to happen ”
“Your Grace,” the physician bowed his head respectfully. “I must insist. I’m quite sure that the
poison used on Lady Isabella was not a mortal one but it could have lingering effects that could
harm her.”
“Lingering effects? What sort of lingering effects?”
“I cannot be sure,” the physician kept his tone soothing. “If she were given something with the
blue cohosh to mask the taste, it could affect her in ways that are unknown. It’s best that you
allow me to purge her to be safe.”
“No,” Bella looked at him horrified. “I don’t want to be bled. They bled the Lady Tanya and it only
hastened her death.”
“You’ll not ” Edward moved in front of Bella’s body protectively.
“I have no intention of bleeding her,” the physician hastened. “It would do no good as the
distemper is in her stomach. I’ll give her a draught that will purge her of the substance,” he
widened his eyes significantly at Edward. “In a way that the delicate lady may prefer you not
witness?”
“Oh,” he heard Isabella gasp and then saw her blush as they both simultaneously realized what the
physician meant. She glanced away from him and he growled in frustration. He had just watched,
just helped, as she bore his child from her body and she thought he would be repulsed after that
by either vomit or shit? He was much too disturbed by the agony his actions had rendered her in a
moment before for him to be worried about something like that! He shifted his weight feeling the
comforting weight of his testicles and thanked God that he had been born a man and would never
have to endure such a thing.
“Edward,” she glanced at the bedclothes. “I think we should follow the physician’s advice.”
“Fine,” he growled angrily.
“I’ve been given to understand,” the physician broke in, “that the attendant that gave Lady Isabella
her poison has been located and has named his conspirators. The Guard has them sequestered in
an apartment and His Holiness is waiting for you to determine their sentence.”
“I see,” Edward nodded and glanced back at a now shivering Bella.
“I’ll stay with her,” Antonia said quickly. “I promise, Cardinal Cullen, I shall stay by her side every
moment.”
“Thank,” he felt his mouth go dry as he looked at the older woman hovering protectively over the
mother of his “Thank you.”
Antonia glanced up at him and nodded as she supported Bella, who was cradling their son and
crooning to him. She had been right about his hair, even before it had been clean he’d seen that it
was the same unruly shade as his own and smiled.
“Edward?” Bella glanced up at him and he couldn’t resist her. Striding purposely to the bed, he
enveloped both her and his child in his arms and kissed both their foreheads. “I love you, Isabella,”
he whispered and buried his face in her hair. “I love you so much.”
His son yelled indignantly and he laughed hoarsely. “I love you as well, my Anthony. Now, care for
your mother until I return.” He squeezed her shoulders again briefly and stood, nodding to the
physician who had a goblet in his hand as he strode out of the room.
“Cardinal Cullen!” He heard people gasp and glanced around, seeing the corridors filled with
people. “Oh no!” He heard a woman gasp and several people began to murmur. Looking down he
saw that his robes were disheveled and had faint smears of blood on them from the birth.
“All is well,” he announced quickly. “Isabella and the child are both well. He is a healthy baby boy.”
He heard several sighs of relief and people called out their well wishes as the corridor slowly
emptied and the revelers all left for the beds they would borrow for the night.
“They are both well?” Clement asked wearily from his seat in the corridor after the others had left.
“Yes,” Edward smiled. “They are both doing perfectly.”
“And the child?”
“A healthy boy,” Edward felt the euphoria overtake him. “We’ll name him Anthony Ippolito with
your blessing.”
“A thing you know you already have,” Clement chuckled. “We’ll baptize him when the sun rises. A
true Princeling of the Holy Church.”
Edward glanced up sharply as he heard the bells begin to toll throughout the city. Was it truly
midnight? It didn’t seem as if it was that late at all.
“The Holy Child has come,” Clement said wearily and sighed. “For the Lord is great and merciful
and we receive him with joy.”
“Amen,” Edward nodded fervently.
“Come, let us sentence Laurent and Victoria de Marigny to death on this Holy Christmas morning.”
Clement added.
“Pardon?” Edward gaped.
“Of course, I can’t actually kill them,” Clement added. “As much as I would wish to. It will be
expected that I commute their sentence as a gesture of Christian charity.”
“But ” Edward stuttered. Laurent and Victoria had commissioned Bella’s poisoning? He hadn’t
even known that they were still welcomed at court. Surely there had to be some sort of mistake?
Why would their hate of a woman they didn’t know extend to trying to cause her death and the
death of her child? Surely they had to see that she posed no threat to them?
“But commuting them to banishment will seem merciful,” Clement continued. “Not to them, of
course. I don’t believe the Lady Victoria will find life at the Convent of Perpetual Sorrow to be a
pleasant existence, especially given their position on the sin of vanity. But it will seem merciful in
comparison to the noose at least at first.”
“And Laurent?”
“Well,” Clement chuckled grimly. “I’ve been given to understand that the poison the de Marigny
used is a Venetian one. And the Venetian don’t take too kindly to the trade. I’ve agreed to turn him
over to them to make an example of. The Doge’s prison is much more suited to him than any I
could devise.”
Epilogue
Bella stood, her hand blocking the glare of the sun from her eyes as she stared heavenward, trying
to see over the wall of the back garden when her daughter Elizabeta’s screams broke her from her
reverie.
“Mama!” The three year old screamed as her brother chased her around, a large toad held out in
front of him to touch her. “Don’t let him get me!”
“Anthony!” Bella rebuked him sharply. “What have your father and I told you about tormenting
your sister?”
“Not to do it,” the seven year old pouted angrily, kicking at the dirt in front of his shifting feet.
“He told me it would give me warts and I’d be so ugly that no one would ever marry me!” Elizabeta
cried out, tears running down her pudgy cheeks. “Then I’d have to marry Cousin Guido.”
“And what is wrong with your cousin?” Bella laughed. “In a few years he’ll be seen as quite the
match.”
“Ewww,” Elizabeta curled up her nose. “But he’s icky! And he smells funny!”
Bella heard Alice chuckle and turned to see the other woman behind her, holding a large basket of
cut flowers for the family chapel. “That would be the attar of lilies, Rosalie insists on bathing him
in. Claims that it’s all the rage in the fashionable courts.”
“I’d rather marry Matteo,” Elizabeta whispered as she wrapped her tiny arms around Bella’s legs
and looked over at Alice’s four year old son chasing butterflies. “He’s handsome.”
“That he is,” Bella winked at her daughter and then at a giggling Alice.
“Any news from Edward?” Alice broke in as she too glanced skyward, shielding her eyes.
“No,” Bella shook her head. “No word from Jasper then either?”
Both men were currently sequestered inside St. Peter’s. Clement had gone to his eternal rest and
Edward was with the rest of the Cardinals electing his replacement while Jasper and his troops kept
order in the square. “I saw the black smoke rise earlier this morning again,” Alice sighed. It has
been seven days, the crowds are getting restless.
“I wonder who the two contenders are?” Bella sighed and rubbed her swollen belly.
“No doubt they’re both worthy men,” Alice snickered. “I’m sure now it’s just a matter of bribing the
proper votes.”
“Hopefully Edward holds out for something good,” Bella snickered. “A permanent retirement to
Palace duty for Jasper perhaps?”
“Don’t curse me to such a fate,” Alice giggled. “I’d know not what to do with a husband under foot
each day. It’s bad enough when he’s here now. I’d be as big as you are now every spring. Like a
sow in heat,” Alice shook her head ruefully.
“You’d think after ten he’d have learned what causes it?” Bella giggled playfully.
“Mmhmm,” Alice smiled, peacefully, as she glanced at her youngest. “It seems Emmett has
managed to learn well enough, only having the one son. Lucky in that. None to be burdened with a
life of duty and their own lives expected to be subordinated to the family.”
“Lucky indeed,” Bella agreed as they both thought of Alice’s lost son, the one who would inherit,
with no one but the four women involved any the wiser of his origins.
A loud cry from the street and the tolling of bells caused both of them to turn toward the walls
again and they cried out happily as they saw white smoke drifting on the horizon.
“I’ll go warn Cook to prepare a feast!” Alice announced as she hurried off.
“Why are people cheering, Mama?” Elizabeta gazed up at her innocently.
“Because they’ve chosen a new Pope,” Anthony answered. “They send up white smoke when a new
Pope has been elected.”
“But Papa Ippolito was the Pope.”
“Papa Ippolito is dead,” Anthony hugged Bella from the other side and buried his face in her skirt.
She knew that her son had taken his adopted grandfather’s passing hard. Edward’s absence since
then had only made the boy’s emotions more volatile.
“So he doesn’t get to be Pope anymore?” Elizabeta sniffled.
“No,” Bella sighed and sat down on the nearby bench, wrapping her arms around both her children.
She was too large to hold them in her lap anymore so instead she allowed them to cuddle into her
shoulder.
“That’s sad,” Elizabeta sobbed.
“It is,” Bella agreed. “But you know what isn’t sad?”
“What?”
“Your papa is coming home,” Bella answered. “And that means he’ll be able to tell you a story
tonight about his magic horse Volver before bed.”
“Oh,” Elizabeta looked oddly pleased at the thought and nodded thoughtfully. “I think I’ll go inside
now and wait for Papa.”
“So will I,” Bella agreed as she led the children inside. Once all the children in the house had been
sent to the nursery, she moved into the parlor, resting her feet on a low sitting stool to reduce
their swelling and let her eyes drift close.
A commotion outside caused her to open them again, the light much lower in the room than when
she closed them, and she hurried to her feet as she heard voices outside the door. When it flew
open, she gasped at the bloodshot eyed man with several days growth of beard and rumpled
clothes.
“Edward!” She ran into his arms and clung to him, uncaring about the state of his appearance. “I’m
so glad you’re home.”
“As am I, my lovely Bella,” he crooned. “As am I.”
Fin.