LITMIR.BIZ

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time. You’re enthralled by an emotion; believe me, I understand. But it will ease. Give yourself a fortnight to rethink this idea.’

      Lorenzo’s paternal, dismissive tone only strengthened Giuliano’s resolve. ‘I’ve already arranged the carriage and driver, and sent a message to the servants at the Roman villa to prepare for us. We must seek an annulment,’ he said. ‘I don’t say this lightly, brother. I want to marry Anna. I want her to bear my children.’

      Lorenzo leaned back in his chair and stared intently at his younger brother, as if trying to judge whether he were an impostor. When he was satisfied that the words had been meant, Lorenzo let go a short, bitter laugh. ‘An annulment? Courtesy of our good friend Pope Sixtus, I suppose? He would prefer to see us banished from Italy.’ He pushed himself away from his desk, rose, and reached for his brother; his tone softened. ‘This is a fantasy, Giuliano. I understand that she is a marvellous woman, but … She has been married for some years. Even if I could arrange for an annulment, it would create a scandal. Florence would never accept it.’

      Lorenzo’s hand was almost on his shoulder; Giuliano shifted it back, away from the conciliatory touch. ‘I don’t care what Florence will or won’t accept. We’ll remain in Rome, if we have to.’

      Lorenzo emitted a sharp sigh of frustration. ‘You’ll get no annulment from Sixtus. So give up your romantic ideas: If you can’t live without her, have her – but for God’s sake, do so discreetly.’

      Giuliano flared. ‘How can you speak of her like that? You know Anna, you know she would never consent to deception. And if I can’t have her I won’t have any other woman. You can stop all your match-making efforts right now. If I can’t marry her—’

      Even as he spoke, he felt his argument fail. Lorenzo’s eyes were filled with a peculiar light – furious and fierce, verging on madness – a light that made Giuliano believe his brother capable of true malevolence. He had only seen such a look in Lorenzo’s eyes rarely – never before had it been directed at him – and it chilled him. ‘You’ll do what? Refuse to marry anyone at all?’ Lorenzo shook his head vehemently; his voice grew louder. ‘You have a duty, an obligation to your family. You think you can forget it, go to Rome on a whim, pass our blood on to a litter of bastards? You would stain us with excommunication? Because that’s what would happen, you know – to both of you! Sixtus is in no mood to be generous with us.’

      Giuliano said nothing; the flesh on his cheeks and neck burned. He had expected no less, though he had hoped for more.

      Lorenzo continued; the hand that had reached for his brother now became a jabbing, accusatory finger. ‘Do you have any idea of what will happen to Anna? What people will call her? She’s a decent woman, a good woman. Do you really want to ruin her? You’ll take her to Rome and grow tired of her. You’ll want to come home to Florence. And what will she have left?’

      Angry words scalded Giuliano’s tongue. He wanted to say that though Lorenzo had married a harridan, he, Giuliano, would rather die than live in such loveless misery, that he would never stoop to fathering children upon a woman he despised. But he remained silent; he was unhappy enough. There was no point in making Lorenzo suffer the truth, too.

      Lorenzo emitted a growl of disgust. ‘You’ll never do it. You’ll come to your senses.’

      Giuliano looked at him a long moment. ‘I love you, Lorenzo,’ he said quietly. ‘But I am going.’ He turned and moved to the door.

      ‘Leave with her,’ his brother threatened, ‘and you can forget that I am your brother. Don’t imagine I am joking, Giuliano. I’ll have nothing more to do with you. Leave with her, and you’ll never see me again.’

      Giuliano looked back over his shoulder at Lorenzo, and was suddenly afraid. He and his older brother did not joke with each other when they discussed important matters – and neither could be swayed once he had made up his mind. ‘Please don’t make me choose.’

      Lorenzo’s jaw was set, his gaze cold. ‘You’ll have to.’

      The following evening, Giuliano had waited in Lorenzo’s ground floor apartment until it was time to meet Anna. He had spent the entire day thinking about Lorenzo’s comment about how she would be ruined if she went to Rome. For the first time, he considered what Anna’s life would be like if the Pope refused to grant an annulment.

      She would know disgrace, and censure; she would be forced to give up her family, her friends, her native city. Her children would be called bastards, and be denied their inheritance as Medici heirs.

      He had been selfish. He had been thinking only of himself when he made the offer to Anna. He had spoken too easily of the annulment, in hopes that it would sway her to go with him. And he had not, until that moment, considered that she might reject his offer; the possibility had seemed too painful to contemplate.

      Now he realized that it would save him from making an agonizing choice.

      But when he went to meet her at the door and saw her face in the dying light, he saw that his choice had been made long ago, at the moment when he gave his heart to Anna. Her eyes, her skin, her face and limbs exuded joy; even in the shadowy dusk, she shone. Her movements, which had once been slow, weighed down by unhappy consequence, were now agile and light. The exuberant tilt of her head as she looked up at him, the faint smile that bloomed on her lips, the swift grace with which she lifted her skirts and rushed to him relayed her answer more clearly than words.

      Her presence breathed such hope into him that he moved quickly to her and held her, and let it infuse him. In that instant, Giuliano realized that he could refuse her nothing, that neither of them could escape the turning of the wheel now set in motion. And the tears that threatened him did not spring from joy; they were tears of grief, for Lorenzo.

      He and Anna remained together less than an hour; they spoke little, only enough for Giuliano to convey a time, and a place. No other exchange was needed.

      And when she was gone again – taking the light and Giuliano’s confidence with her – he went back to his own chamber, and called for wine. He drank it sitting on his bed, and thinking of Lorenzo.

      He finally understood the depth of his elder brother’s love and caring for him. When he had first become fascinated with Anna, he had gone to Lorenzo and asked, ‘Have you ever been in love?’ He had always felt pity for his brother, on account of his unhappy marriage.

      Lorenzo had been busy at his desk, but at the sound of his brother’s voice, he had looked up and forced his stern expression to lighten. ‘Of course.’

      ‘No, Lorenzo, I mean desperately, hopelessly in love. So much in love that you would rather die than lose your beloved.’

      Lorenzo sighed with mild impatience. ‘Of course. But the story ends sadly, so what would be the point in its telling?’

      ‘You never want to speak to me of sad things.’ Giuliano said. ‘Just like Father, always trying to protect me, as if I weren’t able to fend for myself.’

      Hidden hurt glimmered in Lorenzo’s eyes as his gaze flickered down and to the side … and into the past. Giuliano realized he was thinking of their father, Piero, and of the day he died. In his last moments, Piero had asked to speak to his eldest son alone; Giuliano had always assumed it had been merely to relate political secrets. But at that instant, seeing the haunted look in Lorenzo’s eyes, Giuliano realized their conversation had dealt with something more important.

      ‘I’m sorry, Lorenzo. I didn’t mean to complain …’

      Lorenzo gave a small, unhappy smile. ‘You’re entitled. But … you’ve already seen enough grief in your short life already, don’t you think?’

      Recalling the conversation, Giuliano swallowed wine without tasting it. Now it seemed like a mockery that God had given him the wonderful gift of Anna’s love, only to have it cause everyone such pain.

      He sat for hours, watching the darkness of night deepen, then slowly fade to grey with the coming of dawn and the day he was to leave

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