Madonna of the Seven Hills by Jean Plaidy Page A

the time came. It was clear that all the low-cut dresses, the attention to her appearance which seemed to absorb Giulia, were not for Orsino’s benefit.
    Lucrezia felt that Giulia must be very wicked.
    I believe, though, she said to herself, I also like wicked people better than good ones. I should be desolate if Giulia went away, but I should not care very much if Madonna Adriana did.

    There was excitement in the Orsini palace. It was one of those special days when Lucrezia must be more sedate than usual, when she must behave as a Spanish lady, and walk with the utmost grace, for Cardinal Roderigo Borgia was coming to Monte Giordano to visit his daughter, and Adriana was eager that he should not be disappointed in her.
    Lucrezia wore her hair parted in the center and falling demurely over her shoulders. Giulia watched her Spanish maid prepare her, with great interest.
    “Is he very solemn, the great Cardinal?” she asked.
    “He is the most important man in Rome,” boasted Lucrezia.
    “Then,” said Giulia, “you will have to pull down your lips in a sour expression because, when you do not, you look too happy, and you will have to be quiet and speak only when spoken to.”
    “My father likes to see me happy,” said Lucrezia. “He likes me to smile, and he likes me to talk too. He is not in the least like Adriana. But she will be watching and I shall have to remember all she has taught me, since, as he sent me here to be taught by her, that is surely what he wished me to learn.”
    Giulia grimaced; and Lucrezia left her and went down to the intimate and pleasant little room where Roderigo was waiting for her.
    The tapestries were hanging on the walls and the finest silver goblets had been brought out for this occasion.
    Adriana stood by Roderigo while Lucrezia bowed in the Spanish fashion. Roderigo laid his hands on her shoulders and kissed her cheeks and then her forehead.
    “But how she grows, my little one,” he said tenderly. “Madonna Adriana has been telling me of your progress.”
    Lucrezia looked askance at Adriana whose expression was grim.
    “It has not been as good as you hoped?” said Lucrezia timidly.
    “My dear, who of us reaches perfection? You please me. That will suffice.” Roderigo looked at Adriana, who bowed her head. He was asking that they be left alone.
    When Adriana had gone she took all restraint with her, and Lucrezia threw herself into her father’s arms telling him how wonderful it was to see him.
    He kissed her with tenderness and passion, and brought a bracelet from his pocket, which he put on her wrist. She kissed it and he kissed it. He was always passionately sentimental when they were alone. He wanted to tell her of his love and to be assured of hers.
    When these assurances were made they talked of Vannozza and of Cesare and Giovanni.
    “Cesare does well at the university,” said Roderigo. “I am proud of his scholarship and his prowess at sport. It will not be long, I swear before he becomes a Cardinal. And Giovanni does very happily in Spain. My Lucrezia is growing into a beautiful lady. For what more should I wish?”
    “And Goffredo?”
    “He grows in strength and beauty every day. Ah, we shall have to make plans for him before long.”
    Over her father’s shoulder Lucrezia saw the door open slowly. Giulia, her face flushed, was peering round it.
    Lucrezia shrank in horror. This was an unforgivable breach of etiquette. Giulia could not realize how very important the Cardinal was. To dare to come peeping thus … it was unthinkable. Giulia would be dismissed, and the marriage arrangements would be broken off, if Adriana discovered she had done such a thing.
    Roderigo had sensed his daughter’s dismay; he turned sharply and Giulia was caught.
    “And who is this?” asked Roderigo.
    “Giulia, you must come in now,” said Lucrezia, “and I will present you to the Cardinal.”
    Giulia came, and to Lucrezia’s consternation she was not wearing her most modest