I, Mona Lisa by Jeanne Kalogridis Read Free Book Online Page A

functions—unless Lorenzo insisted vehemently upon it. (Certainly he had not done so here.) Giuliano had already proclaimed himself unable to attend the luncheon.
    Lorenzo had been thoroughly taken aback the previous day when Giuliano had announced his desire to run off to Rome with a married woman. Up to that point, Giuliano had taken none of his lovers very seriously; he had never spouted such foolishness before and certainly had never spoken of marriage. It had always been understood that,when the time came, Lorenzo would choose his bride and Giuliano would submit.
    But Giuliano had been adamant about getting the woman an annulment—an achievement which, if Cardinal Riario had.
not
come as a papal overture, was well beyond Lorenzo’s grasp.
    Lorenzo was frightened for his younger brother. Giuliano was too trusting, too willing to see the good in others, to realize he had many enemies—enemies who hated him solely for the fact he had been born a Medici. He could not see, as Lorenzo did, that they would use this affair with Anna to tear him down.
    Giuliano, the sweet soul, thought only of love. Though it had been necessary, Lorenzo had not relished being cruel to him. And he could not blame Giuliano for his noble view of the tender sex. At times, he yearned for the freedom his younger brother enjoyed. This morning Lorenzo particularly envied him; would that he could linger in the arms of a beautiful woman and let Giuliano deal with the Pope’s nephew—who was still gazing politely at Lorenzo, waiting to learn the whereabouts of his wayward brother.
    It would be impolitic to tell the Cardinal the truth—that Giuliano had never really intended to come to Mass, or meet Riario—and so instead Lorenzo indulged in a polite lie. “My brother must have been detained. Surely he will be here soon; I know he is eager to meet Your Holiness.”
    Riario blinked; his girlish lips thinned.
    Ah
, Lorenzo thought. Perhaps young Raffaele’s interest was more than superficially diplomatic. Giuliano’s handsomeness was legendary, and he had stirred the passions of at least as many men as women.
    Guglielmo de’ Pazzi leaned across the Archbishop and gave the Cardinal an encouraging pat on the shoulder. “Have no fear, Holiness. He will come. The Medici always treat their guests well.”
    Lorenzo smiled warmly at him; Guglielmo dropped his gaze without meeting Lorenzo’s and gave a quick nod of acknowledgment, but did not return the smile. The gesture seemed odd, but Lorenzo was at once distracted by Francesco Nori’s whisper.
    “
Maestro
. . . . your brother has just arrived.”
    “Alone?”
    Nori glanced briefly to his left, at the north side of the sacristy. “He has come with Francesco de’ Pazzi and Bernardo Baroncelli. I do not like the look of it.”
    Lorenzo frowned; he did not care for it, either. He had already greeted Francesco and Baroncelli when he had first entered the cathedral. His diplomatic instincts took hold of him, however; he inclined his head toward Raffaele Riario and said softly, “You see, Holiness? My brother has indeed come.”
    Beside him, Cardinal Riario leaned forward, looked to his left, and caught sight of Giuliano. He gave Lorenzo an odd, tremulous grin, then with a snap of his head, forced his gaze back to the altar, where the priest was blessing the sacred Host.
    The lad’s movement was so peculiar, so nervous, that Lorenzo felt a faint stirring of anxiety. Florence was always full of rumors, most of which he ignored; but Nori had recently reported that Lorenzo was in danger, that an attack was being planned against him. As usual, Nori could offer no specifics.
    Ridiculous
, Lorenzo had scoffed.
There will always be whispers, but we are the Medici. The Pope himself might insult us, but even he dare not lift his hand against us
.
    Now, he felt a pang of doubt. Beneath the cover of his mantle, he fingered the hilt of his short sword, then gripped it tightly.
    Only seconds later, a shout came