Vincenzio looked at the trembling hands of the monk. He heard fear in his weakened voice. Was this how he must be too? ‘The Great Council’s soldiers will indeed focus their discovery within the city’s walls and certainly my travels are well justified.’ Vincenzio worked through his own doubts as he spoke. ‘My business interests do not wait on the Great Council’s permission, nor would the Council expect me to delay an important trip because a Medici spy had been discovered. Indeed that would make me appear more guilty.’ The Medicis were not easily riled, so nor would he allow himself to be. In this very church, Lorenzo had lost his own brother, Giuliano, to an assassin’s blade and still bravely united the city behind the Medici colours and put an end to his rival Francesco de’ Pazzi’s plot to kill him and place his own family in the Medicis’ stead. ‘I will leave for Prato and then on to Pistoia, as originally planned,’ he said decisively. The Medici star would rise again, just as it always did, and Vincenzio would be right there beside the family. ‘Now I must go. My wife and children will be waiting.’

‘So be it.’ The friar nodded but his lips quivered. ‘We are in God’s hands and He alone knows our fate and when it will come to claim us.’

There were still crowds on the steps and in the square. Vincenzio spied Rucellai and went to join the group of gentlemen, but before he had a chance to speak with Bernardo he saw Lucrezia waving to him. She stood with his children at a distance from the other churchgoers. They were a handsome lot, even Luna in the fine dress he’d had made for her portrait. His boy stood firmly, he noted proudly. He lifted his chin and nodded to the gentlemen in farewell, capricious as his wife, the lot of them, but he’d do anything to avoid being banished from their society. They must have no reason to judge him or his family. News of Roberto’s death rang in Vincenzio’s ears, but he did not feel he was mad to maintain his support for the banished Medici family; Piero’s father had helped Vincenzio when he most needed it and he’d always be in their debt. He’d swear allegiance to the Medici camp thrice before any here; loyalty was still a coveted virtue in Florence, at least the last time he checked.

Vincenzio made his way over to where his family waited and took his wife’s hand to help her into the carriage. He stood back to let his daughters enter and then lifted Pippo onto the seat beside Lucrezia. When they were all comfortably seated, he waved the driver off.