“My apologies, madame.” He offered a smile with no apology at all behind it. “Had you been recognized, my men would have evinced more gentleness in making your acquaintance. I assure you that in France it is not the custom to make war upon women.”

“Then you will let me return to Rome at once.” I drummed my fingers, making sure my rings sparkled. The more expensive I looked in the finery Rodrigo had given me, the better. “Such an inconvenience; the Holy Father will be so annoyed—”

“I fear I cannot return you to Rome yet, madame.”

I tasted fear in my mouth, sour and rancid, but I pushed my lip out in a pout. “And you consider yourself a gentleman, mon general?”

“I do as my King commands.” General d’Allegre spread his hands in graceful apology, but his eyes were hard and cool. “It is possible His Majesty will wish to make your acquaintance before making further decisions as to your return. He has a great admiration for beautiful women, after all . . . and he would not wish to leave you with a poor opinion of French hospitality.”

Oh, how very polite we were all being. I could already see my entry in the royal book of conquests: Number ninety-six, fair-haired everywhere, skillful hands. Holy Virgin, save me.

“Or perhaps His Majesty will give me leave to return you to Rome at once. Who knows, madame?” General d’Allegre noted my silence, and his lips curved. “For the meantime, I am honored to act as your host. You will dine with me tonight.”

I didn’t think it was an invitation. “My good mother-in-law Adriana da Mila and I will be delighted to join you.” I felt Adriana lift her chin bravely at my side.

“I would not dream of parting your belle-mere from her duties to your traveling party,” the general said smoothly, not even giving her a glance. “My officers and I will be honored to take the task of entertaining La Belle Farnese alone this evening.”

More snickers from the officers behind him. One young man with a violently fashionable mustache bent to whisper to the other, neither bothering to hide the way their eyes went over me. Over the maids arrayed behind me, too: white-faced Carmelina and Laura’s buxom nursemaid and poor Pantisilea, who for once had no flirtatious winks to give back.

“If I am to be your guest this evening, then I wish comfortable lodgings for my traveling party,” I snapped. “Proper beds and food, and sentries posted to keep them safe.”

“Of course, madame.”

“And I want a good surgeon for my bodyguard,” I added imperiously. “His wounds must be tended at once.”

“That may be more difficult to provide.” General d’Allegre was bland. “Your little man inflicted serious injuries upon several of my soldiers. My surgeons, I’m afraid, are all occupied tending their wounds.”