Free Light on Lucrezia by Jean Plaidy Page B

when less than a week later there were cries of ‘Crucify him.’ ”
    “Sanchia! You mean Cesare is in danger!”
    “I doubt not that he will know how to look after himself. But he’ll not get Carlotta.” Sanchia lifted her shoulders. “Come, which bonnet will you wear?”
    Lucrezia tried to turn her attention to the bonnets. She would not believe that Cesare was in any danger. If he did not marry Carlotta, then he would have someone else. Soon he would be home. She was not going to let fears for her brother cloud her happiness.
    So they set out for the vineyards of Cardinal Lopez. They were very beautiful in the pale February sunshine and Lucrezia was determinedly merry, eager to banish the uneasy thoughts which Sanchia had set in motion.
    Cardinal Lopez and his household had prepared a feast for the visitors, and they sat watching races or joined in the outdoor games which he had arranged for their entertainment. There was much laughter, but every now and then Lucrezia felt a longing to be with Alfonso that she might tell him of Sanchia’s words which had made her a little uneasy, and seek reassurance. She would not tell her father because, although he would dismiss the rumors, he might in the secrecy of his mind brood on them; but Alfonso, she was sure, would dismiss them as ridiculous because he would know that was what she wanted him to do.
    Longing to be with Alfonso, she cried out as they were walking down one of the sloping paths to the stables: “Do hurry. Let us race!”
    Bernardina, who was close behind her, gave a whoop of joy and, pulling at Francesca’s gown, shouted: “Come along. I’ll be at the stables first.”
    Lucrezia cried: “Not you!” And sped away.
    She was leading when her foot tripped over a stone and, as her ankle twisted under her, she fell; Bernardina unfortunately was too close on her heels to pull up and, as Lucrezia went down, fell on top of her. Francesca fell over Bernardina and for a few seconds the pair lay on Lucrezia, their full weight pressing her to the ground. They were laughing as they leaped to their feet; then suddenly they stopped, for Lucrezia had not moved. She was lying, her body twisted and still, exactly as she had fallen.

     
    The Pope sat by his daughter. They had carried her back to her palace, and put her to bed; then they had taken the news to the Vatican that there hadbeen an accident and that the doctors feared the consequences might be serious. Lucrezia lay white and still; she had lost the baby.
    It was comforting, when she opened her eyes, to see her father beside her. She put out a hand and he took it. She knew immediately what had happened, because she was aware of the sorrow in his eyes. The loss of a grandchild could make him more unhappy than the news that the French were at the outskirts of Rome.
    “Dearest Father …” she began.
    Now he was smiling, ready to soothe her.
    “You will get better, my daughter,” he murmured. “Your weakness will pass.”
    She whispered: “My baby …”
    “Oh, but it is an unfortunate accident, nothing more. Two people in love, such as you and Alfonso are, will get many more children. As for this one … we do not even know that it was a boy.”
    “Boy or girl, I loved it.”
    “Ah, we loved it. But it was not to be.” He leaned over the bed. “And dearest daughter, you are safe. Soon you will be well. I praise the saints for that mercy. Shall I grieve because of an unborn grandchild, when my dearest is spared to me? When they brought me the news of your accident terrible fears beset me, and I cried out that if aught happened to my Lucrezia I would have no more interest in life. I prayed for your life as I never prayed before; and you see, Lucrezia, my prayers have been answered. My beloved is safe. And the child … But I tell you there will be more children.”
    “Father,” she said, “stay near me. Do not leave me yet.”
    He smiled and nodded.
    She lay back and tried to think of the