The Family - Mario Puzo [81]
“I must tell my brother the cardinal,” Lucrezia mused aloud.
Perotto with his even temper and good nature said, “Tell him what you feel you must, and I will suffer the consequence all true love must bear. For a gift of such wonder as I have known these past months is worth whatever it may cost.”
He bowed, and took leave of her. But not before she handed him a letter to deliver to her brother. “Make certain it is he who receives this message and only he, for you know the danger should it fall into anyone else’s hand.”
Perotto arrived in Rome, and immediately met with the Pope to inform him that Lucrezia was six months pregnant, and that he was the father of her baby. He begged the Pope’s forgiveness for the betrayal of his trust, and vowed to make amends in whatever way the Pope decreed.
Alexander listened intently to what Perotto had to say. He seemed puzzled for a moment, then became quiet; but to Perotto’s surprise he didn’t appear angry. He simply gave the young Spaniard orders. He instructed Perotto to speak to no one about the situation; there could be no exceptions. He explained that Lucrezia would remain in the convent, where she would bear the child assisted by those brides of Christ who had sworn allegiance to the church and therefore could be counted on to protect its secrets.
But what to do about the infant? Certainly Alfonso and his family must never know the truth. Nor should anyone else but Alexander, Lucrezia, and of course, Cesare. Even Jofre and Sancia could be in danger if this was discovered. And it was understood that even under torture Perotto would not betray this truth.
As Perotto was readying himself to take leave of the Pope, Alexander asked, “You have told no one about this, I assume?”
“Not a soul,” Perotto admitted. “For my love of your daughter has imposed its own silence upon my lips.”
Alexander embraced the young man then, and sent him on his way. “Take care,” he called after Perotto. “I appreciate your candor and your courage.”
After his visit to the Pope, Perotto stopped to see the cardinal to deliver the message from Lucrezia. Cesare paled as he read the parchment, then looked at Perotto with surprise. “What is the purpose of this admission?” he asked the young Spaniard.
Perotto, his guitar slung over his shoulder, smiled and said, “Love is its own reward.”
Cesare’s heart was racing. “Have you told anyone?”
Perotto nodded. “Only His Holiness . . . ”
Cesare maintained his composure with difficulty. “And his reaction?”
“He was quite gracious,” Perotto said.
Now Cesare was alarmed. He knew his father was most quiet when he was most angry. “Then go quickly to a place in the ghetto of Trastevere and remain hidden,” he told Perotto. “And if you have any regard for your life, make no further mention of this to anyone. I will consider what to do, and the moment I return from Naples I will call for you.”
Perotto bowed as he left the room, but Cesare called after him, “You are a noble soul, Perotto. Go with my blessings!”
In Rome Lucrezia rose before the twelve judges, seven months pregnant. And even disguised by her loose clothing, the change in her appearance was apparent. But she had made certain to tie her golden hair neatly back in a ribbon, and to scrub her rosy complexion clean. From her months spent in the convent, eating modestly, praying often, and sleeping many hours each night, she looked quite young and innocent.
On seeing her, three of the judges whispered and leaned in to confer. But the vice-chancellor, plump and puffy Cardinal Ascanio Sforza, now waved his hand to silence them. When he asked Lucrezia to speak, her speech, written by her brother Cesare, delivered in Latin, haltingly and with extreme modesty, was so effective that each of the cardinals found himself enchanted by the sweet young daughter of the Pope.
Still seated before them, as they conferred with each other, Lucrezia raised her linen handkerchief to her eyes and began to shed brokenhearted tears. “You will pardon me, Your Excellencies, if I may beg