“Sold me?” I didn’t try to keep the bitterness out of my voice.

He hauled the saddle down from his horse’s back. “No.”

“So change your mind!” I didn’t know how to deal with my new horse’s girths and straps; I’d never unsaddled a horse in my life, so I tied her reins to the rail where they wouldn’t tangle. “I’m still your wife; we can—”

“You don’t understand,” he blurted out. “I made a bargain with Cardinal Borgia, and he’s not one to cross on a bargain. He’s a powerful man. He could squash me like— He’s not good, you know, for all he’s a man of God. He always gets what he wants. And he doesn’t care how he gets it. He’s not kind.”

“He’s been kind to me.” I came out of the stall, dropping the latch behind me. “Kinder than you’ve been, husband.”

“Of course you’d think that.” Orsino gave a defeated shrug of his bony young shoulders, dragging the bridle over the gelding’s ears. “I hear he’s very generous to his concubines.”

“I am not his concubine.”

“Juan Borgia says—I met him on the way to the palazzo here, he wouldn’t stop twitting me—”

“That lecherous little nit couldn’t be trusted if he told you the sun would rise tomorrow morning,” I snapped. “I am not his father’s mistress, or concubine, or whatever other choice word he or you have for it!”

“The Cardinal gave you that mare, didn’t he?” Orsino nodded bitterly at my new horse where she stood lipping hay in her new stall. “Pearls and jewels too, Juan told me.”

“I’ve not given him anything in return.” I met my husband’s eyes as squarely as I could. “I will swear by any saint you like, Orsino. I swear by the Virgin—which I still am.”

He averted his eyes, scuffing his feet a little as he shuffled out of the gelding’s stall.