“Orsino,” I said. “Look at me. Not at her, at me.”

His blue eyes flickered as they met mine.

“Do you want me to come with you to Carbognano?”

“Yes,” he whispered. “Jesu, yes.”

“Dear boy,” Adriana began.

“Be a dear, Adriana, and shut up,” I told her without taking my eyes from Orsino. “This is a matter between husband and wife.”

She pursed her lips tight, looking back to her wine. I reached for Orsino’s hands, and I felt his pulse thrumming right through me. “I’ll go with you,” I said, and felt my own pulse speeding too. “We’ll ride to Carbognano tomorrow, and I’ll be your wife and keep your castello and bear you sons. But the question stands: When the Pope comes for me, what will you do?”

Another long silence. My husband bit his lip.

Say you’ll bar the gates before you’ll let him take me, Orsino, I found myself thinking. Say you’d rather be excommunicated before you gave up your wife, Orsino. Say anything.

I could face down my Pope—I knew that now. I could face him down, and I would. But not if my husband was not firmly allied behind me.

“If we sent him the child,” Orsino blurted out. “If he had his own flesh and blood back, maybe he’d allow you to—”

“What?” I dropped his hands. Whatever I’d hoped he would say, it was not that. “I am not going to give away my daughter!”

“Giulia—” Orsino’s eyes begged me. “I have to know. Is she his child? Or mine?”

“Oh, Holy Virgin!” I exploded, and found myself shouting. What a great relief it was, too. “We’ll never know, Orsino, we’ll never know and I’m sorry for that, but why does it matter by now? She’s Laura, that’s who she is. She’s the loveliest girl any man could ever hope to have as a daughter, so what is it with you men? Why do you and Rodrigo refuse to have anything to do with her unless you can prove she has your blood? Why is any of that her fault? You don’t either deserve to have fathered her!”

“I’m—I’m sorry—” Orsino stammered.

“You should be,” Adriana commented. “Really, Orsino. Laura’s a little love. And it’s not as though she’s your firstborn son and heir! There’s plenty of time for that later.”

I rounded on my mother-in-law. “So your plan is that I go back to the Pope until he’s tired of me, and then I settle down with your son and start birthing plenty of legitimate little heirs?”

Adriana’s voice was placid. “That seems entirely reasonable to me.”

I nearly heaved the altar cloth at her head. “What kind of mother are you?”