She closed her eyes so as not to see his fiery judgement. The sheet was sodden now, with what fluids, she did not know or care. She had misjudged things terribly.

‘I have done what no mother ever desired; I have abandoned my babe to keep your family name unsullied and pure. But my sorrow is as nothing compared to yours, sire, as truly you have suffered the loss of none more precious than an heir.’

He walked to the door.

‘Do not turn away from me, I beg you,’ Giulia cried out in desperation, but the soft cry of his baby in the room next door had distracted Vincenzio again.

‘There is a babe under this roof still, and you, mistress, seek to keep him from me. Most assuredly am I dishonoured by this.’

‘I did what I thought best, for us and for the child. She will be spurned by everyone, but the nuns will take care of her.’

‘You would cast my offspring out?’

‘Please, my love, this was not easy for me. I am suffering too.’

Beyond the door, Livia listened, horrified. The night was dark; she must leave now to avoid her mistress’s fury. Yet the words of Signore Fusili kept her in the nursery. She lifted the baby gently against her shoulder and whispered soothing sounds into the small ear pressed against her cheek. ‘Cry, little one, let him hear your voice.’

Soft sucking began, rising to a jerky wail.

Thus was the future of Giulia and Vincenzio’s daughter sealed. Her cries travelled through the corridors of the Careggi villa like a longed-for breeze. A sound full of hope. The kitchen servants stopped their tasks and crossed themselves in thanks at the healthy cry of new life. The hunting dogs in the yard pricked up their ears, sniffed the air and howled.

Vincenzio went to find his child.

Giulia made to stop her husband, gasping as she rose to grab at him. ‘Vincenzio, don’t! Stay here, I beg you, stay here with me.’

But her pleading fell on deaf ears. She watched him rush from the room and only when she heard his muffled voice next door did she fall back against the bolster.

Then Vincenzio was at her door again, the bundle in his arms.

‘Here is my firstborn, mistress. Look on her. A girl, I grant you that disappointment, but still a Fusili.’ He laid the bundle on the bed and unwrapped the swaddling. For the first time, Giulia saw the rounded belly and smudged nose of her daughter. She was as perfect as Livia had described.