“Five children living.” He sat down on the rim of the fountain opposite me, not too close. “Four here in Rome, three boys and a girl. A daughter in Spain whom I rarely see, now that she’s grown and married.”

And older than me, no doubt. Not that there was anything so shocking about that; Isotta Colonna, who had cried all through her wedding, had been standing next to a human sphere of sixty-four. Three quarters of the girls I’d giggled with at Mass were wed to husbands twenty years at least their senior.

Nineteen-year-old Orsino with his blushes and his blue eyes. I’d thought I was so lucky.

I looked the Cardinal square in the eye. “If you wanted me so badly, why didn’t you take me last night?” I made myself ask. “It’s your palazzo—no one would have come to my aid. You could have done whatever you wanted with me.”

“My dear girl.” The amusement was back, laced through his voice like a thread of honey through cake. “I’ve never in my life had a woman by force, and I don’t intend to begin now.”

I jumped to my feet. “Then let me go home!”

“Certainly,” he said. “Your new home is at the Palazzo Montegiordano, with your mother-in-law Adriana da Mila. She runs a comfortable household there—my daughter stays with her; I do hope you and Lucrezia will be friends. She’s a delight, and too often lacks the company of other young girls. Your husband will stay in the country at Bassanello, though I wouldn’t be surprised if he comes to bleat apologies at you for being the cowardly sprig that he is. I will come too, from time to time, to pay you court.”

I lowered my lids in scorn. “And if I say no?” Could I say no? Or would I go to hell for defying a cardinal? Oh, Holy Virgin, who ever would have thought getting married would make everything so complicated?

“Say no, and you will be none the worse off.” The Cardinal rose in a rustle of scarlet silks, his majestic height dwarfing me again. “In fact, you will be considerably the richer. You’ll have a pliant young husband—he’s a spineless little coward, but he’s still a better prospect than most of those withered gray specimens who manage to wed girls like you. You’ll have enjoyed the pleasant sensation of being courted for yourself rather than your dowry, which all women should experience at least once in their lives.” A glance at the braided hair beneath my veil. “Before their bloom fades, that is.”

I threw my head back and gave him a slow arrogant smile.