There was no outburst such as I had almost looked for at the mere
suggestion contained in my faltering words. He looked at me gravely and
sadly out of that stern face of his.
"I would you had given me this advice two weeks ago," he said. "But who
was to have guessed that this pope's bastard would have so prolonged his
visit? For the rest, however, you are mistaken, Agostino. It is not he
who has dared to raise his eyes as you suppose to Bianca. Were such the
case, I should have killed him with my hands were he twenty times the Duke
of Parma. No, no. My Bianca is being honourably wooed by your cousin
Cosimo."
I looked at him, amazed. It could not be. I remembered Giuliana's words.
Giuliana did not love me, and were it as he supposed she would have seen no
cause to intervene. Rather might she have taken a malicious pleasure in
witnessing my own discomfiture, in seeing the sweet maid to whom I had
raised my eyes, snatched away from me by my cousin who already usurped so
much that was my own.
"0, you must be mistaken," I cried.
"Mistaken?" he echoed. He shook his head, smiling bitterly. "There is no
possibility of mistake. I am just come from an interview with the Duke and
his fine captain. Together they sought me out to ask my daughter's hand
for Cosimo d'Anguissola.
Pages:
354
355
356
357
358
359
360
361
362
363
364
365
366
367
368
369
370
371
372
373
374
375
376
377
378