by Jean Plaidy
So he had prayed for his uncle and had stayed with him at his bedside while all others had fled; and although his magnificent palace had been sacked and looted, he remained aloof and calm, ready to cast his deciding vote at the Conclave which would follow and which assured Aeneas Sylvius Piccolomini of becoming, as Pius II, the successor of Calixtus.
Pius must be grateful to Roderigo, and indeed he was.
Thus Roderigo came successfully through the first storm of his life and had assured himself that he was able to stand on his own feet, as poor Pedro Luis had not been able to do.
Roderigo collected his brother’s wealth, mourned him bitterly—but briefly, for it was not in Roderigo’s nature to mourn for long—and found himself as powerful as he had ever been, and as hopeful of aspiring to the Papal throne.
Roderigo now wiped his brow with a perfumed kerchief. Those had been times of great danger, and he hoped never again to see the like; yet whenever he looked back on them he was aware of the satisfaction of a man who has discovered that the dangerous moment had not found him lacking in shrewd resourcefulness.
Pius had indeed been his good friend, but there had been times when Pius had found it necessary to reprove him. He could recall now the words of a letter which Pius had sent to him, complaining of Roderigo’s conduct in a certain house where courtesans had been gathered to administer to the pleasures of the guests. And he, young handsome Cardinal Roderigo, had been among those guests.
“We have been informed,” wrote Pius, “that there was unseemly dancing, that no amorous allurements of love were lacking, and that you conducted yourself in a wholly worldly manner.”
Roderigo threw back his head and smiled, remembering the scented garden of Giovanni de Bichis, the dancing, the warm perfumed bodies of women and their seductive glances. He had found them irresistible, as they had him.
And the reproof of Pius had not been serious. Pius understood that a man such as Roderigo must have his mistresses. Pius merely meant: Yes, yes, but no dancing in public with courtesans, Cardinal. The people complain, and it brings the Church into disrepute.
How careless he had been in those days, so certain was he of his ability to win through to his goal. He had determined to have the best of both ways of life. The Church was his career, by means of which he was going to climb to the Papal throne; but he was a sensualist, a man of irrepressible carnal desires. There would always be women in his life. It was not an uncommon foible; there was hardly a priest who seriously took his vows regarding celibacy, and it had been said by one of the wits of Rome that if every child came into the world with its father’s clothes on, they would all be dressed as priests or Cardinals.
Everyone understood; but Roderigo was perhaps more openly promiscuous than most.
Then he had met Vannozza, and he had set her up in a fine house, where now they had their children. Not that he had been faithful to Vannozza; no one would have expected that; but she had remained reigning favorite for many years and he adored their children. And now there was to be another.
It was irksome to wait. He, who was fifty, felt like a young husband of twenty, and if it were not for the fear of hearing Vannozza’s crying in her pain he would have gone to her apartment. But there was no need. Someone was coming to him.
She stood before him, flushed and pretty, Vannozza’s little maid. Even on such an occasion Roderigo was aware of her charms. He would remember her.
She curtseyed. “Your Eminence … the child is born.”
With the grace and agility of a much younger man he had moved to her side and laid beautiful white hands on her shoulders.
“My child, you are breathless. How your heart beats!”
“Yes, my lord. But … the baby is born.”
“Come,” he said, “we will go to your mistress.”
He led the way. The little maid, following, realized suddenly that she had forgotten to tell him the sex of the child, and that he had forgotten to ask.
Read all of Jean Plaidy’s
Novels of the Tudors
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Novels of the Stuarts
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