I took the nosegay and handed it to my pet goat. “I’ll not have you over my threshold right now, Juan Borgia.” The goat munched placidly at the mouthful of violets, and I spoke loud and clear so my voice carried to the guardsmen standing behind me, to Leonello who watched from the door’s shadow since I’d ordered him to stay out of Juan’s sight, to the squires and soldiers at Juan’s back, and the grooms still holding Juan’s horse in the courtyard. “Not when you attempt to ravage my cooks and my maids. I won’t have you over my threshold again until I have a promise you will conduct yourself decently in future.” I had no hopes I could bar Juan from my door forever, but I’d settle for vows of good behavior, particularly if I could get my Pope to add a stern lecture. Not that either would stick for long, but I could at least keep a very close eye on Juan in future whenever he crossed my threshold. And tell all the maids to travel in groups.

“What stories have you been hearing, Giulia?” Juan wheedled me with another smile, sauntering closer. I refused to back away as he put one boot on the marble step where I stood, drawing his handsome profile close to mine. “Is some maidservant telling tales about me again? I’m not near as bad as my reputation, you know.” He lowered his voice to what he probably thought was a sultry whisper. “In fact, I’m better.”

He tried to slip an arm about me, but I gave his wrist a smack like I smacked my little goat whenever he tried to eat my sleeves. Juan’s smile vanished. “It’s not your threshold, Giulia Farnese,” he warned. “I do what I wish here. And if you’re talking about that long-legged bitch in your kitchens, she’s a slut and a cock-tease, and she shouldn’t mix with her betters at your banquets!”

“I assure you, she was not mixing with her betters if she was mixing with you,” I said coldly, and turned in a whirl of blue velvet skirts.