A gust of cool air blew into the clouds of steam before she could finish, and I looked over my shoulder to see the square velvet-skirted figure of Adriana da Mila coming into the scented heat of the bagno. I rose hastily from my stool—the Pope’s mistress thought nothing of chattering with servants, but her mother-in-law did not care to see the time she paid for being wasted. But Madonna Adriana hardly spared a glance for me or the suddenly industrious maid who had wiped the grin from her face and busied herself hauling Giulia’s mass of wet hair from the bathwater. Madonna Adriana looked at Giulia, and in her hand she held another letter.

“From His Holiness?” Giulia laughed. “I’ll swear he’s written every other day!”

“No, from Capodimonte. Your family.” Madonna Adriana’s face was unexpectedly grave. She looked at the maid and me and said, “Leave us.”

I curtsied silently and retreated. “Let’s listen,” the maid whispered, and we both lingered beside the half-open door.

“It’s bad news from your family, my dear,” Madonna Adriana’s voice continued. “I’m afraid it’s your brother.”

“Sandro?” Giulia whispered, so low I could hardly hear her. “Oh, no—”

“No, not Cardinal Farnese. Your older brother, Angelo. He’s contracted a very bad fever. Your family thinks . . .”

I heard a great splash of water in the bath. “Carmelina,” Giulia called. “Pia! Come back; I know you’re both listening out there!”

I flew back inside with another curtsy, in time to see my mistress levering herself up out of the bath. Water shed in all directions, and the plate of ricotta tourtes flew with a crack to the marble floor. “Pia,” she said to the maid, “fetch Laura’s nurse and have them both readied.”

“My dear, you can’t think of going to Capodimonte,” Madonna Adriana protested. “His Holiness will never allow it, not with the French army coming farther south every day—”

“This has nothing to do with Rodrigo.”

“Of course it does. You think he will allow you to take a sudden journey unattended and without permission?”

“Carmelina, will you be good enough to find Leonello for me?” Madonna Giulia’s eyes fell on me where I’d stooped to the floor to pick up the broken fragments of plate. “I know you can’t stand the sight of him, and frankly right now I can’t either, as nasty as he’s been to me lately, but I’ll want his protection on the journey. My usual guardsmen and grooms as well, of course; please tell the steward.”

“Yes, Madonna Giulia,” I said at once.

“You’re coming too. I don’t intend to stop at inns, so I’ll need someone to cook on the road. Bring that apprentice of yours if you need someone to help with the heavy work.”