The Family - Mario Puzo [84]
It was Jofre who, during the evening, introduced him to a tall, handsome young man who would impress Cesare with his intelligence and courtliness. “My brother, Cardinal Borgia, this is the duke of Bisceglie, Alfonso of Aragon. Have you met?”
When Alfonso reached for Cesare’s hand, Cesare found himself intrigued by the look of the young man. He had an athletic build, but his features were so fine and his smile so radiant that one could no more keep from staring at him than from studying a beautiful painting.
“It is my honor to meet you,” Alfonso said, bowing, and his voice was as pleasing as his appearance.
Cesare nodded his head in acknowledgment. And for the next several hours the two men excused themselves from the crowd to walk through the gardens and become familiar with each other. Alfonso’s intelligence matched Cesare’s own, and his sense of humor was refreshing. They discussed theology, philosophy, and of course, politics. By the time Cesare said his farewell he felt a certain fondness for the young man, and so as they parted, he said, “I’ve no doubt you are worthy of my sister. And I am certain she will be happy with you.”
Alfonso’s blue eyes glittered. “I will do all in my power to see that it is so.”
Cesare found himself looking forward to meeting his sister at Silverlake. It had been months since he and Lucrezia were alone together, and now that she had recovered from childbirth he found himself thinking about making love to her again. He wondered, as he rode as quickly as he could, what it was she had to tell him. He had not heard a word from his father or Duarte in recent weeks, and so he suspected it was something more personal than political.
Arriving at the lake before she did, he took a moment to stand back and gaze upon the clear blue of the sky, enjoying the peace of the countryside before going inside the cottage. There, after bathing and changing his clothes, he sat, sipping a goblet of wine, and reflecting on his life.
So much had happened of late, and yet he knew even more was meant to happen in the near future. He was determined, once he had returned to Rome from Florence, to ask the Holy Father to relieve him of his duties as cardinal. He could no longer bear the hypocrisy that the cardinal’s hat imposed on him. He knew that convincing the Holy Father would be a formidable task, that it would add tension to their already strained relationship. Since Juan’s death, instead of growing closer, his father had seemed to be drifting away from Cesare.
Cesare was filled with ambition and passion; he wanted to live his life to the fullest. And yet he felt thwarted. Now that his sister was to be married again, he found himself struggling. Alfonso was an honorable man, one he liked, and though he wanted the best for Lucrezia, he found himself feeling jealous. Now his sister would have children she could love and claim as her own. As a cardinal, his children would be denied—or worse yet be bastards, as he was. He tried to calm down, to talk himself out of his feelings, chastising himself for his shortsightedness. Cesare reminded himself that Lucrezia’s betrothal to the son of the king of Naples was a great alliance for the church and Rome. Yet he grew impatient, full of frustration that the course of his life had been decided by mere accident of birth.
The Pope, too, had always enjoyed his life; he felt genuinely fulfilled by his mission in the church, and the saving of the souls of humanity. But Cesare struggled with believing, and felt no such passion. Spending his nights with courtesans rarely brought him pleasure; all at once he found he wanted more. Jofre and Sancia seemed happy, with their material luxury and commitments to court life. And even his brother Juan had certainly had a good life—one of freedom, riches, and distinction—until at last he was defeated by the death he deserved.
By the time Lucrezia arrived, Cesare was sullen.