The Angel of Soriano: A Renaissance Romance (9 page)

Furious at how he was escorted home, Pierpaolo Nardini paced the public square between his church and his front door. In the distance, Carvajal’s men disappeared into the long rolling hills, back toward Soriano.

They hid Aurelia there. He could tell by the way the eldest son had flinched at her name. But he’d no intention of telling the arrogant cardinal anything of the sort.

Borgia, just arrived from Rome, dismounted. “Rumors abound that your niece is not truly dead. Did you find her?”

Nardini allowed his hatred to simmer. “What is she to you?”

The devil in his expensive red gown put his hands behind his back and stared, unblinking. “Let’s just say I’ve taken a special interest in her well-being.”

If Borgia married Aurelia to one of his minions, her husband would legally own the last of the Nardini wealth. Pierpaolo’s hand twitched by his sword and his ears burned with ire. He’d not allow it.

Father Michael barged out of the church and waddled across the piazza, allowing Pierpaolo the time he needed to calm. Even if he could overpower Borgia and his men, what good would come of it? The pope would merely send more men.

The Earl of Vignanello smiled through gritted teeth. “Let me offer you something cold to drink while we speak. Your horses and men can rest below in the town.”

Bowing and smiling, he ushered Father Michael and Borgia into the keep. The frown lessened somewhat on the cardinal’s face and yet he motioned two of his guards to accompany him.

Once inside the main hall, they sat. The embarrassing crumbling walls and water stains were an ever present reminder of all this man had done to impoverish the Nardini family.

Borgia sat and leaned back against the room’s only fine chair. The one reserved for the master of the house. “You’ll bring her to me, immediately.”

Pierpaolo swallowed hard and did his best to find a plausible falsehood. “Alas. I cannot. She is in, ah, residence, with, ah, nuns in the valley. They love her simple nature. She’s considering taking on the cloth.”

The cardinal snorted. “The woman has the cunning of a snake. She’s no nun.”

Pierpaolo smirked, suddenly amused by the discomfort. “So she bested you? Is that why you want her?”

A half smile played upon the man’s face. “That could be one reason. Women like her need to be tamed from their wild natures. Brought to their knees before God.”

Pierpaolo stopped himself before saying, “
And sucking your holy cock.”
He snickered. “Don’t you have enough women in Rome who beg before you on their knees?”

Borgia’s jaw ticked.

“Or perhaps you want to give her to your son, Giovanni?”

“Enough!” The tall Spaniard stood, brows creased and frown fierce.

Pierpaolo chuckled. “Sit. Sit. I’m merely negotiating. Trying to figure her worth to you.” He poured a cup of wine, amused how just the mention of his bastard son had broken Borgia’s composure.

Sharp, unblinking eyes under a red cardinal’s cap, bore a hole into Pierpaolo. “How much?”

He raised his eyebrows, the answer already on his lips. “I want the Nardini estate in Rome.”

Wine swirled in Borgia’s cup as he stared into it. “A high price for one woman of questionable descent.”

“But one you’re willing to pay?” Pierpaolo drank first as proof that the bottle was not poisoned. He held his breath, watching and waiting until he could stand it no longer. “Well?”

“I’m considering if I can afford such an exorbitant price.”

“I understand His Holiness has granted you much of what my uncle left to the church. This is but a small piece of what he was worth.”

His nemesis sipped at the wine, never lowering his eyes. “True. Your uncle was generous to a fault.”

No longer able to hold his tongue, Pierpaolo narrowed his gaze and ignored Father Michael’s hand upon his arm. “I know it was you who rewrote his will, taking all that should’ve passed onto me.”

The man smiled, a wolf dressed in Christ’s fabric. “Not so. As your uncle neared the hour of his death, he had me bring him ink and parchment. His heart was full of remorse. There was no convincing him to do otherwise. I had to beg him to leave you Vignanello.”

Ears throbbed and his hand clenched a stiletto under the table. The man had no decency. He stole the Nardini fortune, left them nothing, and now flaunted it. Nardini stood.

“You’ll not get the rest.”

Borgia laughed. “But I will. Soon the court of Naples will grant me that small plot of land belonging to your niece. Is that what you refer to?”

“Small, but critical to the defense of Rome.”

The corners around the cardinal’s mouth tightened. “Be very careful, Pierpaolo. I would rather consider you friend. You’ll find I’m a ruthless enemy.”

Standing, he put his hand out to agree upon the trade. “You can have the Nardini fortress in Rome upon delivery of the woman.”

Pierpaolo nodded, a much different agreement forming within his mind.

Aurelia, no doubt used to cooking for just herself and her father, stood with mouth agape in the huge kitchen of Soriano’s keep. Any one of these twenty or more workers could’ve poisoned the food. To Bernardo, the task of finding the culprit seemed insurmountable.

Suddenly, her delightful fingertips pressed into the back of his neck. She stood on her toes and pulled his ear to her lips. “I have it. Each cook must take a taste of what they’ve prepared before serving you.”

Why hadn’t I thought of that?
Because she makes it hard to think rationally.

It wasn’t easy to explain to the cook who’d been with him since childhood that they feared poisoning. When he showed the proof in his fingernails, the gray haired woman paled, cursing most foully in Spanish. Then she walked up and down the narrow aisle waving a wooden spoon. Most of the local women seemed affronted, a few shouted, but all were fully informed of the new rules.

Taking Aurelia’s hand, he tugged her away from the angry kitchen help. “Walk with me. I’m certain they’ll do their best to watch the food.”

In the great hall, she stopped and raised pale blue eyes to his. “It’s unseemly to be alone with you. Pino will—”

“Pino is sleeping in his quarters. He’s an old man and missed most of a night’s sleep. I sent his sons to practice swordplay with my garrison.” Bernardo had needed to get her alone since yesterday, but couldn’t get away from his responsibilities. Today he would not be stopped.

He led her into the courtyard where the unseasonably warm fall had brought roses back into bloom. He pulled a blossom and put it to her nose, then kissed her before she could resist.

Smiling, she stepped back and pushed him away with both hands on his chest. “But Lucella—”

“No, per favore. Please don’t.” He thrust a fingertip to her lips. “Call out the devil’s name and she will appear. Come, I want to show you something.”

Where to find a suitable place to enjoy her bountiful body? As he’d hoped, her breasts all but burst out of the low cut gown he’d bought for her. It wouldn’t take much effort to expose them completely. Taking her elbow, he led her across the piazza and nodded to the smirking Antonio as they passed under the gate.

She followed, gaily unaware of his intent. “Come now. Lucella cannot be as terrible as you say. She’s young. I’m sure that once she’s grown, she’ll make a fine wife.”

Bernardo laughed and tugged her close. “You’re far too kind. She’ll no doubt make my life a living hell.”

“Kindness shared, grows like wild flowers upon the meadows.” His angel grinned, warming his insides more than the sun.

He shook his head, led her down the steep slope, and into a mostly abandoned street. Then quickly, he tucked her into a deep stone arch. “You are—”

“Dim-witted? Addle-brained?”

“No. Sweet. As if untouched by the world and all the vipers within.” He stopped and stared at her bruised face. How could someone who’d just endured so much, still be so cheerful? Surely she was part divine.

He drew her into him. “Thank you again for saving my family.”

Her eyes widened, her lips parted, and her chest heaved.

Mio Dio.
Suddenly he was stricken with guilt. Taking her here, against a wall, would be sacrilege. And yet he dared play with fire and risk eternal damnation by covering her mouth with his.

She moaned, responded as she had done in the church in Rome and her fingertips dug into the back of his head.

Completely lost, he deepened the kiss, careful not to injure her. He’d dreamed too long of her in his arms, in his bed, and in his life. And now she was here. He almost pinched himself to make sure it was not a dream. Under his tunic, his lust grew harder and he knew he must stop before he took things too far.

When he broke free, she looked up, lips swollen and eyes glistening with want.

His heart pounded in his ears, almost making him deaf. He wanted her more than life itself but he said, “We cannot.”

“In God’s name, why not?” Her upper cheeks flushed a deep rose, her disappointment evident.

The stone wall cooled his cheek when he rest against it and moaned. She
would
invoke the name of the Almighty. “You’re an innocent. I’d be no better than Borgia.”

“We cannot have sex because I’m a virgin?” Her body was so close and her face so willing. All he needed to do was lift the pile of velvet skirts and sink into her.

He stepped back, about to be eternally burned by the flames of hell. “God’s Blood. Do you need to be so direct with your speech?”

“Scusami?”
The tops of her cheeks darkened further. “So if I was a working whore, we would consummate?”

“You’re beyond infuriating.” He paced the tiny street, praying his lust less painful and her language more pure.

Her face scrunched as if considering a large philosophical discussion. “I don’t believe that I agree with your decision making. You see, whores are generally poxed. Indeed, by bedding them you could die. Although the church professes it is because of the wrath of God, I’ve studied and read some ancient texts. There’s some disease that comes—”

His mouth closed over hers. What else could he do? He’d never be able to let her go even though he couldn’t marry her. A woman like her, alone in the world? He shuddered just to think about it.

She lifted her skirts and pressed her core against his aching need. Her lace underthings were so wet, she dampened his hose all the way to his swollen member.

He’d never claimed to be a saint and all noble thoughts slipped away, replaced by the image of sinking into her soft folds. “Are you sure this is what you want?”

“I want what you want.” She squirmed most innocently against him.

He moaned, totally and completely undone. He slipped both hard nipples out of her low bodice, pressed her against the wall, and suckled while she moaned his name.

Not enough, he released the laces under her arms, and pulled the bodice of her dress to her waist. He kneaded and played with her body while urged on by her nails digging into his waist.

When he reached his hand between her legs, her swollen wet folds made him shiver. He’d never needed to join with a woman so badly.

“Wrap your legs around me.”

Her opening widened and he slipped one finger in.
Christo
. She was so tight, so sweet. And when she bucked repeatedly against him, his small hold on sanity fell away.

He opened the slit in his hose, and held his engorged cock at her entrance so as to slip into her next arch.

She sank onto him hard, shuddering and shaking, taking her pleasure.

When she bit into his shoulder, her orgasm broke free. Wave after wave, her body sucked at him, making him wild. He plunged into her like a mad man. Higher and higher he strained. He’d never been harder nor had a more willing partner. This was heaven.

Jesu. Oh God! Aurelia.
He pushed once more and his seed spilled out giving him ecstasy beyond any he’d ever experienced.

Within his chest, his heart beat wildly and twice more he plunged, exuberant when her inner muscles pulsed back. She’d come again, this time with him.

A better man might’ve apologized. All he could think about was when he might be able to do this again.

He slowly pulled out, suddenly guilty when he saw the blood. He knew she was a virgin and yet took her. Surely he was damned for eternity.

“Did I hurt you?” He found a handkerchief, went to his knees, and wiped his seed off from her, kissing her navel and inner thighs.

Her fingertips caressed his scalp, making him hard again.

“No pain except the one in my heart, wanting to have you again and again and knowing it cannot be so.”

“My love. I’ve no idea how, but I’ll never let you go. But right now, if we don’t show ourselves soon, your uncle and others will surmise what we’ve been about.”

She looked down at her mussed attire and blushed so completely, he almost started to seduce her again. Instead he tucked her delicious breasts into her dress and tied up the sides.

Her swollen lips and I-was-just-ravished face, he hid by tying her cap more tightly until she laughed. Then he walked her out of the alley and into the main street that led to the castle.

Perhaps some cool air would be just the thing for both of them. “The view from the parapets is stunning. Are you up for a climb?”

“I’m not sure if I can manage. Not after what you just did to me.”

Laughing, he said, “We’ll find a way.” The wind would explain the lovely blush upon her cheeks.

He pulled Antonio away from his card game and they wheeled a wooden staircase over to one of the walls. The man knew better than to speak, but nonetheless grinned widely.

She gathered yards of dress material into her arms and ascended the steps. “Much easier than a ladder.” At the top she inhaled sharply. “Oh my. This is beautiful.”

Her linen cap flew off her head and she waved it goodbye as it twisted and turned in the wind. Pale blue eyes sparkled as she took in the scenery and pointed.

“There. That’s the road to Pino’s.”

“Si.” He grinned at her enthusiasm and his want swelled. Instead of quelling his thirst, their joining had only made him want her more.

“And there. Look. There’s another large mound. Is that Vignanello? This is amazing. I’ve never been so high. It’s like being halfway to heaven.”

She paused and pointed out a hill with a tall church and a huge iron circle hanging from rope in a wooden frame. “What’s that?”

“The warning bell of Bastia.”

He stood behind her, pulled her to where he ached most, and pointed out the four others as he spoke into her ear, “See? There’s a ring on each nearby hill. The landowners are integral to our defense.”

“Why do they even care? I would think one land owner much like the rest.”

He wrapped his arms around her chest, and inhaled her scent with his chin on her head. “Not so. Despite how he deals with nobles, Borgia is most fair with the hazelnut farmers of Soriano. He gives them a greater percentage of the wealth than most. That makes for an exceedingly loyal population.”

“How clever. I would’ve expected him to rule by fear.” Her voice went a little tight.

“Some of the rumors about him are vastly overstated. He’s an intelligent man.”

“And used to getting what he wants.” She shivered within his arms and gripped the wall.

Suddenly he remembered her fear of the man. “What an idiot I am! You’re so easy to talk to, I momentarily forgot that he hunts you. Please don’t worry. From now on, I promise, I’ll keep you safe.”

“I’m afraid that’s not possible.” She twisted and stared into his face, her lips still swollen from their loving in the archway.

When her mouth parted, expecting another kiss, he moaned and cupped her cheek. “Promise me you won’t ever leave Soriano. I’ll surely die without your loveliness in my life.”

She blushed and put a hand to her hair. “I used to have a long beautiful braid and ivory skin.” Her small thumb and forefinger pinched the bridge of her nose. “And this may never be straight again.”

“Angel, I love your hair this way and already your injuries heal. But it’s not of that I speak.” He poked at her heart. “In there. Somewhere in there is an amazing woman. Full of caring and goodness but unaware of the world. I worry so for her.”

Long lashes raised and her hand covered his. “Ah. But you shouldn’t. I’m in the hands of God.”

“Where was He when Pierpaolo was kicking the life out of you?” He rolled his eyes. The woman’s faith was irrational.

However, her retort was quick and fierce. “God gives every bird his food but does not throw it into the nest.”

He decided right then to take her to his small home at the foot of the mountain, keep her safe, and make love to her for the rest of the day. And perhaps every day or the rest of her life.

“Don Carvajal? Are you up there?” Lucella’s screeching from below shriveled his lust and he sighed. She was better at that than a long swim in freezing waters.

He put a finger to Aurelia’s lips. “Wait here. Then retreat to your room.”

She smiled, put her hands to the back of his head, and kissed him hard. Then she lifted her skirts, ran the length of the wall, and hopped down a ladder on the far side of the keep with surprising ease.

Lucella’s round frowning face stared up at him from the piazza with hands on her hips. “What’re you doing up there?”

“Inspecting my lands.” He took a deep calming breath.

“Grandmother says you should be delegating more tasks and spending more time with me.”

He glared down, refusing to take offense.

“I saw that woman kiss you.” Her face puckered under a ridiculous pointed hat with scarves that waved like pennants in the breeze.

He would’ve laughed if his life were not so dark and doomed. “Go inside. The sun is making you see things and giving you freckles.”

She looked at her hands and shouted as she ran inside. “Grandmother? Quick. A mirror.”