"If you have any doubts, dear Madama," Ugolini said, "I will be happy to give you absolution."
That was a nice touch, thought Sophia. If she confessed to him, that would certainly put her under his influence.
But even as they talked, across town the podesta's men might be tearing Daoud's body to pieces. Sophia felt her stomach knot. She shook her head as vigorously as she dared, to drive away the hideous images without attracting attention to herself.
Hurry! Dear God, make them hurry!
"I have no doubts," said the old lady firmly. "Besides, I have my own chaplain. I would not wish another person on earth to know me as well as he does. But I do thank you for your kind thought, Cardinal. I am glad to see that not all the princes of the Church think alike in this matter."
"I am sure Cardinal Piacenza is quite alone," said Ugolini.
The contessa shrugged. "I do not know about that. Since His Holiness left, no one has called on me. I have been feeling quite abandoned."
Now Sophia began to feel a stronger hope than ever. The old lady liked to be flattered by princes of the Church. Perhaps she could be won over after all.
"Surely your guest, Cardinal de Verceuil, attends you often," Ugolini ventured.
The contessa sniffed. "That Frenchman. He is no more civilized than his Tartars. I would rather he left me alone. The French are all rather barbaric. Of course, that fine young Simon de Gobignon—he is most attractive." She grinned with a lasciviousness that startled Sophia. "This palace has not been the same since he went back to France."